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Slept into Bucharest
We got up in plenty of time in the morning. Had a little breakfast and changed some money with Joniko, then a taxi to the station. We shared a compartment with some nice older folks and managed to sleep the whole way. It was already getting hot in the train by the time we got off around eleven. Bucharest appears to be all of the horror stories and more. I am glad that we decided not to stay there. Many guidebooks and personal tales tell of various rip-off scams that go far beyond my stolen wallet. Just stepping off the train, one is bombarded by many middle-aged men offering taxis and free travel advice. We did our best ignore them. After a while, I started badgering them about taxi rides and "Can I help you" ploys. That seemed to only confuse them though. Anyway, Midori and I shared a pizza and said our goodbyes. I hope she made it out of that town alive.
Twenty-hour Train
The train was pretty toasty when I got on at one, but it was not a boring ride. First, I ended up sharing a compartment with five other foreigners. Together we made even teams of two Americans, two Brits, and two Dutch. We were able to shoot the breeze and pass the time till they switched trains and headed toward the Black Sea beaches. I was alone for a while, so I caught up on some journaling and whatnot. Then these guys from nextdoor decided to come join me. At first I was a little leary of them, but having lost my wallet, there was not much left to steal. All of my valuables are tucked away in a little ziplock bag in my underwear...
Cosmopolitan
In the evening, a couple women from Bulgarian joined me in my room. The six-seat room would convert into six beds for the night, and I was glad to have someone to share the room with. The
Turkish-Romanian guy and his friends next-door came over and we all chatted a bit in no particular language. I told them that my mother was Japanese and my father British, and I wouldn't be surprised if they embellished their family stories a bit too. The guys were headed to work in some textile factories in Turkey, while the women seemed to be prepared to trade vodka and clothing, among other things. They all seemed to have traveled around the east quite a bit. After exhausting our Turkish vocabulary, the crowd dispersed and we made our beds for the night.
Border Police
While Midori flew to Istanbul in about two hours, my train trip would seriously take about twenty. Part of this is just because the trains crawl at about 50-70kmh, but the two border crossings also take a good two hours or more each. Entering Turkey at 2am or so was not the most enjoyable experience. Usually the immigration officials hop on the train and stamp everyone in and out while the train waits. However, to enter Turkey, we all had to jump off and go into the police office. Americans and others then had to go buy a US45 (only payable in dollars) visa and go back to the office. When I got back on the train, I thought I would take a picture for a memory of this beautiful place. Bad Idea.
The police came and took my camera and told me to get off the train. They spent some time discussing what to do about my spy photography. In the end, they took my film out and returned my camera. They also gave US2 to make up for the ruined film. I was free to go back on the train and await that departure that just wouldn't come. Two more officials would come on the train and look at my bags and ask about video cameras before they finally left me alone. I was not really worried about getting in any trouble, but I thought they might pull me off the train just when it started to leave. I think the two Bulgarian traders were more worried that their suspicious goods would be discovered behind my bag. Anyway, the train finally got under way again around 4am and I was able to sleep some more before the arrival in Istanbul.
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