September 28th 2012 , some ungodly hour in the morning. Hours to Moscow: 0,5.
It’s the last day on the train. Though I’m exhilarated to soon have a decent meal, a hot shower and of course my family and friends I’m a bit sad to leave the train and especially to say goodbye to my new found friend L. the apprentice Shaman.
There’s an air of slightly sleepy excitement in carriage No. 15 when everybody gets up and starts to prep himself or herself to arrive to Moscow, one of the most expensive capitals of the world. Last breakfasts are eaten, left over trash collected and thrown away.
I am a bit scared of how I will get my own luggage down from the compartment over my bunk bed without it crushing me or somebody else to death. My suitcase is an about 30-years old burgundy Samsonite that my dad bought my mum as a present back in the good old days when they were a young more or less happy couple.
I adore the suitcase and it has travelled with me on most of my adventures, however the design of suitcases 30 years ago is not the most practical anymore. The suitcase is so large a tiny person like me could easily fit inside it if I’d fold myself together, however the only way to move it if you can’t carry it is to lift it and drag it on two miniscule wheels. If there’s even the tiniest speck of dust, or god forbid a stone, the giant and usually quite heavy suitcase will tumble to on side or the other. The plastic handle by now looks like it might fall off at any minute and there is a crack on the left side of the case.
To make things just a tad more challenging the way the handle is attached to the suitcase it’s only possible to pull it with the right hand as if you dare try and pull it with the left hand since the right one is starting to blister the suitcase will bump into your legs. I’m not even going to describe what horrors people that are taller than me go through when trying to pull the suitcase.
On the upside, the suitcase is so sturdy that I can sit on it when I’m tired from pulling it (so every five minutes) and as I said, I love this piece of luggage. It hasn’t let me down once in my whole life and about what else can you say that? Well, a few things but certainly not much that was bought.
But back to the journey. My life is not ended by way of suitcase on head since the nice father and son combo help me carry the luggage out of the train. There L.s friend awaits and since Russian friendship means a lot he’s now my friend as well and carries my monster of a suitcase down all the steps that lead us to the Moscow metro.
We are so early the first train of the day hasn’t started yet so we wait with a small crowd of people. L. and her friend bring me to the express train that runs to the airport and help me with my luggage and buying the right ticket. I’m very touched by their kindness and it’s quite sad to say goodbye to L. and with her to the last bit of my Summer adventure. I do hope I’ll see her again…
- Trans-Siberian Railway Diary – Day One (vivianesview.wordpress.com)
- Trans-Siberian Railway Diary – Day Two (vivianesview.wordpress.com)
- Trans-Siberian Diary – Day Three (vivianesview.wordpress.com)
- Woman, 63, takes same train journey to China her grandfather did exactly 100 years ago (swns.com)