Ron Mitchell's Adventure Blog

I lay on an 18-inch wide lower bunk, in the four-person train cabin. The bottom of Mare’s bunk lies within arm’s reach above me. A young Russian man climbs up and into the top bunk about 18-inches across our aisle. He does not say a word. A business man hangs his sport jacket and looks at me. “Hello.” Then he points to my bench, points to his, and flips down a two-foot mattress to cover it. “Speciba,” (butchered Russian for “Thank You”). We enjoy the best sleep of the trip. A cup of tea in the morning, along with a box of snacks is served. Pull the top from a tin can, and eat what we shall eternally refer to as cat food.


A taxi driver speaks English (nonstop) and whisks us from the Moscow train platform for the drive to our hostel. “Communism was a much better system. I…

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