My journey across Moscow was mental. I was going to call this post ‘Mental Russian Trains’, but decided against it. I did not get a good impression of Moscow as I passed through it and this may have had something to do with it.

My train from Kiev arrived on time and on the correct platform, where me and my fellow passenger departed (another old lady). The compartment could have slept 4 people, but luckily this time it only had the two of us in it and the third passenger was only there temporarily. Having left the platform, I decided to get some cash out, not having any Roubles to buy a metro ticket with. After looking around for a few minutes, I found a sort of Bureau de Change in some sort of medical shop, so I got some of my Euros swapped for Roubles. Then I found the metro station, deciphered the ticket-buying system and found a Moscow metro map. Given that the station for my departing train (to St. Petersburg) was Moskva Oktiabrskaia, I looked at the map and decided that Oktyabrskaya must be it, so got on a train for there. After exiting the metro at that station, it became obvious that they did not have any high-speed Sapsan services to St. Petersburg. I found the ticket office, held up my train ticket against the office window and attempted to communicate with the woman behind the glass that I wanted to get to this particular station. After much shouting, pointing and under-lining, she wrote down the station name in Cyrillic and made a gesture that suggested that I needed to run once I’d got there. I descended back into the metro, got to the station in question and asked a vaguely train-related bloke where this station was. He made hand movements that suggested that it was outside and to the right. I left the station and across the road was the station that the woman had written down earlier. I crossed the road and got into what I thought was the ticket hall, but without any ticket office. There was a train on the departure board that left at the same time as the one that I was booked on, but I wanted to make sure it was the right one before committing to anything. After walking around for 40 minutes, exploring every section of this station and asking numerous people where they thought the ticket office was or whether I’d got the right train, I went next door into the metro station. Another non-English speaking rail-network worker couldn’t really explain what I needed to do, but her and her supervisor came out of the office and her supervisor, who was due on a cigarette break, walked me outside and pointed to another station WITH EXACTLY THE SAME NAME on the other side of the road. At that point I had 20 minutes before the train left and wasn’t sure whether I wanted to risk following another set of instructions with so little time to spare. I think she could see me from where she was having her cigarette, because after about 5 minutes she came over and made it obvious that I needed to cross the road, so I thought I’d give it a go. Once I was there, instead of part of the departure board being in Cyrillic (like the last place), the entire departure board was in Cyrillic (unlike the last place). The only thing not in Cyrillic were the numbers, but I could see there was a train leaving at the right time from the same station. After pacing around for a few minutes, still trying to get someone to tell me whether I was in the right place, I decided to walk though the metal detectors to the area closer to the platforms. There, in all their glory, were the Sapsan trains. I put my stuff though an X-Ray machine and asked the nice woman at the other side if I’d got the right train. She walked me round the corner and pointed to the right one, which I promptly walked to and got on. About 10 minutes later, the train left. Wow.

I think I had my first travelling ‘experience’ last night. After boarding the train in Poland, I found that I was the only passenger in my cabin. There were two beds (like a bunk), but as I had waited for all 4 stops to pass, I assumed that I was going to be the only only passenger there. I figured out how all the bedding worked and started getting ready for bed. We eventually reached the Polish/Ukrainian border, where I had my passport checked. For some reason, the Poles weren’t interested in who entered the country, but wanted to know who was leaving it. After a while, a Ukrainian official appeared at my door, asking for my passport. She had a look and after me trying to explain the reason for my visit, she disappeared with it. Then, the train started moving and we entered a warehouse where the train was raised about 4 or 5 feet off the tracks and (presumably) the width of the bearings were changed. The Ukrainian came back on board and gave me back my passport and not long after that, a lot of other people came on board, including a woman with a lot of stuff. My room was converted into a 3-bed compartment and I went on the second bed, without enough room to sit up straight. More people boarded, until we reached another stop in Ukraine, where someone boarded who thought I was in his seat/bed. The conductor had taken my ticket earlier on, so I couldn’t prove I was in the right place, so we just had to have a conversation in broken English until the conductor was free to come and sort the problem out. Other people tried to solve this in several ways during the meantime, but we eventually figured out that the new passenger was actually in the wrong carriage. He disappeared and I spent a cold night on a parcel shelf that I could not fit onto either vertically or horizontally, along with at least two other passengers and quite a lot of stuff. Eventually we arrived in Kiev and we all departed.

I’m currently in Warsaw. I should be somewhere between Warsaw and Kiev right now, on an overnight sleeper train that I arranged to go on some time ago. Unfortunately I didn’t read the ticket properly and turned up at the wrong station for my departure. The result was that I couldn’t see my train on the departure board and only realised when it was too late. As the taxi driver outside said (when asked if he could get me to the correct station in time); “impossible”. Oh. Dear.

On the plus side, it only cost about 30 Euros to re-arrange and I’m staying in the same hostel in Warsaw, with the same bed. Instead of sharing the room with stinky men, I’m in here with a load of Polish women. Luckily, my connecting train leaves late enough the next day that I only needed to re-arrange the the Warsaw – Kiev train; the Kiev – St. Petersburg train is the original one I booked. Never mind!

The is my first proper post since setting off from London a few days ago. The trip to Berlin went without problems, despite a 25-minute changeover in Brussels being reduced to 18 minutes due to a delay entering the channel tunnel. I spoke to my first fellow traveller on the train from Cologne to Berlin, who was going to spend the week in Berlin. He thought I was German and I just didn’t say anything (that wasn’t German), but it turned out that he had travelled from Nottingham that same day, so had covered even more distance than I had. We had a pleasant conversation about train travel (and how good it was), plus a load of other stuff that I can’t really remember. We departed in Berlin, with him wishing me luck with my travels and me wishing him an enjoyable stay in Berlin.

Night one of my stay in Berlin was spent queuing to get into Berghain, a famous club in the German city. I didn’t get in, but learnt a few things about the queuing process, mainly: don’t queue on Saturday and expect to get in. Parties usually go on until Monday morning, so the best thing to do it to amuse yourself on Saturday night and then go first thing on Sunday morning, trying not to look too much like a tourist. The queue on Saturday night was full of tourists, most with varying degrees of interest in the music being played, but all wanting to get in. After giving up and going home, Sunday was spent on an alternative tour of Berlin’s street art, which was very good. I now know the best place in Berlin to get a kebab and a Currywurst, but also how they both came into existence. The artwork was pretty interesting, too.

On Monday I got on the train in Berlin for Warsaw. I shared the carriage with 4 Polish women, a dog and a baby, but it was very enjoyable. The baby was very ‘hands on’, walking around and grabbing onto things, including one of the womens nacklaces. They all seemed to enjoy it, anyway.

Day one in Warsaw was spent walking around and finding somewhere to eat. I managed to find somewhere listed on one of my favourite websites as ‘belly-busting’, without even knowing it and it was very good. Day 2 was spent walking around on a rooftop garden on top of the university library, plus checking out the Neon Museum, in the nearly impossible-to-find Soho Factory. If you can get there, I highly recommend talking to one of the people on the desk. They’re likely to be either Ilona Karwinska or David Hill, both very passionate about Polish, communist-era neon signs. I got speaking to David and must have been there for another half an hour after the museum closed.

Tomorrow I’ve got planned as a Jewish-fest, in that I’m going to be walking around the old Jewish area, hopefully finding an old section of the ghetto wall and going to the Warsaw Uprising Museum. After that I plan to go to the Photo­plasticon and maybe even watch a film in the Palace of Culture and Science. Who knows!

Links to the places that I was referring to above are as follows:

• The Pod Samsonem [http://www.podsamsonem.pl/en_about-us.html]
• The Neon Museum [http://www.neonmuzeum.org/index_uk.html]
• The Photo­plasticon [http://www.fotoplastikon.stereos.com.pl/fotoplastikon/index-en.html].