Chapter Seven
Down By The Station
Boarding the Trans-Siberian train was a mob scene to warm the heart of any New York subway passenger. After an epoch battle to stow my luggage, I finally crammed the backpack and suitcases into their rightful place. I settled into the aisle seat facing south on the northbound train, the only remaining seat in the compartment.
A couple, apparently husband and wife, sat facing me and a girl of seven or eight, probably their daughter, sat beside me. After the conductor took our tickets, I tried to strike up a conversation, but they didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Russian. Still worn out from my trip, and slightly bored, I dozed off.
I awoke once to go to the restroom. While I walked up the aisle, the afternoon sun put on a brilliant light show, se
