Don’t we look wide-awake in our “luxury” cabin, enjoying our morning coffee? Oh by the way Coulter, that is Starbucks Veranda instant coffee made with the boiling water from the Samovar at the end of our car. I might suggest it over Nescafe, which is available in every supermarket. Starbucks is missing a great opportunity of supplying Russia with some good instant coffee. Meanwhile, the coffee in Russia is fabulous. Each cup is made fresh, no sitting around in coffee pots.

We are on the number ONE train, the luxury train with “deluxe” first class cabins. If you had been on the Mongolia train, which had no first class and frankly a dubious second class, you would agree that this is deluxe. And if you have been on the trains in the U.S. you would also agree that it is deluxe. However, I imagine if you were on one of those Orient Express trips through Russia this would look like second-class or third. But I would not trade any of our cabins for that kind of tour. Even if you meet other people, you are not meeting the local people and having to figure out timetables, how long each stop is, when you get off and how to communicate with people.

Getting on the train, we were stopped by a severe, heavily made up train attendant in a uniform that seemed more fitting serving a Gulag than a train. Lots of back and forth with our ticket and passports, I am thinking that they have our record of “sneaking” into Russia and breaking the “Russian law.” Great, we will be stuck in Irkutsk sweeping the streets in front of Lenin’s sculpture. However, after several heated discussions, we were allowed on the train. They did not even look at Shap’s passport. I wonder why? Once in our cabin we agreed that we were not about to step out of line, not that we could in our few square feet. Ms. Gulag came in and with a slice of her hand pointed to the outlet, the sheets, the towels and with a nod that resembled a salute, she left. Only to be seen each day with the vacuum cleaner violently sweeping the carpet running over our toes if we did not get them out of the way. No recognition, no smile.

This trip was different from the rest. Everyone stayed in his or her cabins, no one conversed and dinner and lunch were brought to us. People did come by selling food, even ice cream but we had loaded up on salami and cheese, water and cookies so we were all set.

Two long days, two nights, this time with more of a cushioned seat and duvets to snuggle in. However, it did nothing to ease my aching hips by morning. Thank God I brought “My Pillow” with us. If you do not know the man with the gold chain around his neck and looking like someone left over from the sixties (think Neil Diamond in the 60’s) who sells “My Pillow” on TV and elsewhere, you have to find one. I bought ours at the craft fair and with it came a travel pillow. This has been our savior for a good nights sleep both at home and traveling. Everything they say about it is true. Shap decided to sleep without his one night on the train and the first thing he said in the morning is “Where is ‘My Pillow?” Ok, enough about the free advertising.

The countryside goes by at a rapid speed with plowed fields, lovely new green grass and acres of white birches. There is no undergrowth. We stop at some small towns and large cities. One town seemed to be underwater as we approached. There was a ditch around the area and when we came to a stop at the train station that portion was dry. After leaving the town area we again ran into the houses under water. I have no idea what that was all about? It is fun to look out the train window and imagine the lives of people. One of my favorite scenes was a little old lady coming out of a small wooden house pushing a cart. She looked just like a fairy tale character.

We are pulling into Ekaterinberg which is where the Romanov family were murdered. I am looking out the window at the stairs, again we have to carry these suitcases up and down. But who is this, the man I keep passing in the aisle every morning, offering to take my suitcase off the train? Wow, the only words we had was for him to show me the timetable and where we were getting off. You never know where small acts of kindness come from, but I was happy.