It just takes a few days for drunk russians, noodles and creepy kids to be a way of life (posting from the road)

Train life was actually more routine then I realized it would be. The mornings consist of...getting up...instant oatmeal (brought from home)...wash dishes and then try and clean yourself. This is the tricky part. We have found, through trial and error, that the most effective way accomplish this is to completely disrobe in the teeny toilet room...wash yourself with a towel and the cold tap water, supplementing the cleaning process with baby wipes. Doesn't sound so bad...now remember you are on a train that is rocking back and forth while stradelling a hole that is in the center of the floor - this hole leads straight down to the ground and as Tricia has accidentally discovered is the occsaional source of a mysterious baby gyser. It can be an sort of surprise bidet. You must keep your concentration over the constant door knocks and loud Russian calls.

The train stops every 3 -4 hours for approximately 20 min. This is absolutely must know information because you will plan your entire day around it. This is a chance to get off the train, stretch, walk and shop. Cute Babuska women show up with loads of homemade piroshkyies, chicken, cabbage, beets, tomatoes, eggs, bread and smoked fish. But if processed food is what your after...look no further then the platform...oodles of noodles, instant potatoes, beer and pringles are available for consumption. A late morning train stop gives you a chance to purchase lunch. Noodles (the most popular are the Mr. Noodle kind) are definately the most consumed in our group.

Russia would be a nightmare for a Health and Safety worker to travel in...they would be handing out violations like crazy. One place that definatley needs it is the hot water dispenser on the train. At the end of each carriage is a samovar, that dispenses hot water with the turn of a spigot. This is not just hot water...this is scaulding, boiling water that is heated by a fire burning in the base of it. You are expected to get this water into your cup/bowl while the train shakes down the tracks. I am amazed that I escaped withour burns. One other chap was not so lucky.

Will and Sara had a compartment across from the hot water dispenser and when they weren't drinking with us they would often watch people attempt to fill their noodle bowls (I am envious of their prime viewing locale). Will told me a tale about one man whose noodle bowl and all of it's burning hot contents went flying when the train switched tracks. Noodles coated the samovar, the walls and the man. Will dashed out with a cold cloth to try and help the obviously injured man whose primary concern was cleaning up the noodle mess before the Provodnitsa found the mess. I really don't blame him...they can be very scary attendents.

The later afternoons are spent drinking with locals who want to learn English. As a group we tend to spend most of our time with Maxime, a tank Captain from Chita, Russia and his family (Nadia and Katerina) drinking in the dining car. This nice family is returning from a holiday on the west coast - it will take them EIGHT days/nights by train to reach home. In exchange for our time, they supply us with beer and food constantly - despite our protests. They hop off the train at stops to by us piroshky and smoked fish - again despite our STRONG protests. But they are very nice people and I learnt more Russian from Maxime in 30 min then I did with a month of studying previously. Maxime has also given us his contact info in case we have any problems in Russia, he insists that we call him immediately. I don't envision this as being necessary but an army Captain is a good guy to know. (The oddest gift they gave us was a decorative plate that has the different Russian Empires on it...I feel bad as I sure that was intended to be a gift for someone in Chita.)

The rest of the train has quickly replaced us with just spending time with the Lonely Planet phrase book...usually we just loan out the book to the Russians, but sometimes we send young Pete with it. This then leads to Pete returning to the cabin in the middle of the night, completely hammered and wondering where his shirt is.

In their defense it is an amusing book with helpful phrases such as "your hands are too short" and "touch me here".

And there is DaVinci. DaVinci is a Russian boy, maybe eight years of age that just stairs at us...constantly. Sometimes because of the heat we have to sleep with the door open, sure enough, it you wake up early...Davinci will be there...staring at you. He stares at us in the hall, sitting in our cabins, our the window when we are on the platform...when we disappear to the dining car, I think he worries. It's to the point now where I don't know if I'll be able to sleep in the future without some creepy kid staring at me. Now Davicni is photo shy...so I have only been able to catch a quick shot of him...(we call him Davinci because like the artists great masterpieces his eyes follow you whereever you are...)
So that is my entry for now...as rambling as the train itself...looking forward to solid ground in Siberia!