It sounded easy. Maria at the front desk of the Budapest Hotel smiled cheerfully when she advised that taking the Metro would be quicker and easy and MUCH cheaper.
Our train to Irkutsk departed at 11:45 pm and we, being compulsively early types, planned on being at the station an hour before departure… Even though we knew the train would not be.
At 9:50 pm we trundled out of our hotel, suitcases in tow, day packs strapped on and headed for the nearest Metro. At 10 pm, it turns out there is no helpful old lady to sell you tickets in broken English. We were forced to use the ticket machine, which displays ONLY in Russian. We were “guessing” pretty well, based on knowing the price of a single ticket, when a young guy took pity on us. He purchased a 3 journey ticket for himself and lead us through the entry gates with him. Another joyous example of Russian kindness, hospitality and generosity. OMG, I am going to miss Moscovites!
A half mile later, up and down escalators and through deep under-Moscow tunnels, we loaded our suitcases and ourselves onto the red line going north. Three stops later and just as promised, our Metro spat us out at/near Yaroslavky Station, however signage in Russian using the “English alphabet” was scarce and it wasn’t too long before we were again befriended by an older Russian gentlemen who informed us it was our lucky day - he’d help us.
For those of you who have traveled as I have, perhaps like me you are immediately suspicious he’d want something in return. No. Not in Russia. In Russia, all that is expected is a friendly conversation and a thank you. It is refreshing, surprising and very humbling.
A Yaroslavsky Station we simply couldn’t find any English (or Russian using English alphabet) info. The departure board was in Russian, the ticket offices closed, the passengers/people milling around spoke zero English. It was now already 11 pm. Forty five minutes to departure. There were 12 really well spaced tracks to choose from and I was struggling to breathe - A delightful combo of my ongoing cough, apparently unregulated vehicle emissions and ludicrous amounts of cigarette smoke that triggered asthma that I had not experienced for almost 10 years. Stress was not helping either.
Just then the departure board changed from Russian alphabet to English alphabet and we recognized “Moscow - Beijing”. 11:45. Track ?
It was agreed that I’d tear through the station getting familiar with the tracks, so when the track # finally appeared, we’d know the quickest way to get there. Mark stayed to guard the luggage and off I went.
Through double doors and out into the night I walked. Just train tickets in hand. I finally located Tracks 1-3 (our best guess for our long distance train) and proceeded to head back inside. PROBLEM! Mine had apparently been a one way journey past security and I found myself being told “no entry” back to the station and instead I had to exit onto the city street and walk around the giant train station to the entry through security on the other side. Crap! No time for that.
Again to the rescue, a lovely young Russian stranger who spoke enough English to translate my “issue” to the guards and make a case for me to go against the flow. One little pat down and scan with bomb-seeking wand later and they made an exception for me. Stroke averted.
Back inside, reunited with Mark, I discovered the track # had been posted. Track 2. And… there was an Anteka (pharmacy) still open at 11:15 pm on a Saturday night! It really was time to find out if asthma inhalers were sold over the counter here, as in other foreign countries. The pharmacist spoke zero English but was amused at my attempts using Google Translate. She rolled her eyes as she put 4 types of inhalers on the counter and asked me to choose one… All were covered in prescription details that were completely foreign to me of course.
If you have never used Google Translate, then you are missing out. I used the camera function to hover over the Russian words and translate them to English on my screen. It’s a bit magical. And the only way to safely determine (educated guess at least) dosages.
Arriving at Track 2, we waited maybe 5 minutes then were boarded. That’s cutting it way to close for both Mark and I to feel comfortable! The train to Beijing (but we get off in Irkutsk) left precisely on time. We were already settled into our room for the next 75 hours.
I was asleep by midnight.
(Nope, no pics this post. I really, really didn't have the time... And besides, in my rush, it never occurred to me to whip out so much as my phone.)
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