Day 1 - Frantic Start to Our Journey

Wednesday, June 19, 2019
Moscow, Russian Federation
A FRANTIC BEGINNING TO OUR JOURNEY
Farewell Sochi
If there is one thing we can say about ourselves when we travel - we are super well-organised. In saying that, it doesn't seem to matter one iota. We are always out of control. And yes, this journey was no different.
We had argued at length about the timing of our flight from Sochi to Moscow. I readily admit that I am overly cautious about the timing of our flights - but there is nothing worse than being late, panicking and having to run with baggage to catch transport. And like all travellers, we had done that a few too many times before.... I won the argument with us catching an earlier flight from Sochi that would leave some three hours in Moscow to travel from Sheremetyevo airport to the Yaraslavskiy Railway Station. Yes, it was on the overly generous side with time, especially as we had organised a transfer from Moscow airport through our travel agent at Baikal Nature. Alan shrugged wearily and gave up the battle. But it was not without a few sidelined quips with words such as "paranoia" thrown in.... 
I must admit, we had enjoyed Sochi. A super-modern city with great flare and sophistication, it was a far cry from our usual "off-the-beaten-track" settlements in the extreme remote regions of Siberia and Arctic Russia. Home to the 2014 Winter Olympics, the city had received massive financial resources and the resulting infrastructure was more than impressive. It was as we had to agree, a fine place to chill out after our long travels through the North Caucasus. But whilst it was fun to relax in a good hotel and wander the lovely boulevards lined with semi-tropical parks and gardens, and admire the grandeur of Sochi Harbour - it was for us much like any other beautiful modern city; not all that interesting, nor "our sort of place". It was after all, not much different from being back in Sydney.
The morning of our departure I made a last effort to visit the local supermarket and stock up on goods for our upcoming train journey. I was in fine form. Not only did I need the walk and the shopping, but I was elated that there had been some positive news regarding our missing cat Yekaterina, back home in Australia. Our cat sitter Hazel had messaged through to say the food she had left outside our house had been eaten on two consecutive nights. Whilst not conclusive it was our cat doing the eating, it was the first bit of positive news we had had for weeks. 
And anyone who knows me, understands I am the ultimate Cat Tragic. For the North Caucasus leg of our travels I had driven everyone crazy worrying about Katya; this funny little tabby rescue cat with a wonky back and a broken tail who being dumped with five kittens at our local school, had one the of the worst starts possible for her miserable young life. Perhaps this was good news at long last....
With this unexpected spring in my stride, I extended my walk through some of the lovely surrounding parks, visiting a Kvas* stand and enjoying a last glorious morning in sunny Sochi. Armed with supplies of cheese, biscuits, coffee, coffee whitener, whisky, wine, nuts and sweets, I arrived triumphantly back at our hotel.
*Kvas is a home brewed slightly alcoholic, beer-like beverage made from fermented bread .
Out of Control at Sochi International Airport 
Following a relaxed start to the day, things were looking good. A friendly woman taxi driver arrived on the dot of time, and despite our protestations, insisted on loading our baggage into her car. The coastal road took us through attractive lush semi-tropical rainforest bordered by some super expensive-looking houses, apartments and resorts; the very pleasant trip taking a little over half an hour. 
Sochi Airport was surprisingly user-friendly, testament of course to it being the transport hub for the 2014 winter Olympic Games. Unlike most Russian Airports, signage was in both Russian and English and the check-in staff was friendly and helpful. Perhaps I had been mega-paranoid in catching such an unnecessarily early flight to Moscow....?
Our good fortune soon came to an abrupt ending. Our flight was delayed by some 45 minutes. That was no problem. We had plenty of time. After boarding however, an hour's wait on the tarmac with no air conditioning nor any announcements, things became more than a bit tense. Finally an announcement was made advising that a passenger had fallen ill. And apparently, for security reasons, the entire aircraft would have to be evacuated. The really infuriating news was that we had to re-collect all our checked-in luggage, check-in again and re-board the aircraft. An audible groan from the passengers was universal language. 
Goodness knows what happened to the unfortunate passenger but there were more huge delays. Eventually, we checked-in and boarded the aircraft. By now, we were some three hour's late for our departure. Worried about our transfer vehicle to Moscow's Yaroslavskiy Railway Station, we tried to contact our travel agent Anna. But it was far too late. All staff had left the office for the day. We could only hope that our driver would have some knowledge of our delayed flight and not leave the airport until we arrived. From memorable experience, we knew only too well about the difficulties of foreigners trying to catch taxis from Sheremetyevo Airport.
We arrived at Moscow airport at 10:30 pm. We were relieved that we should have had time to get to Yaroslavskiy Railway, provided our driver was still waiting for us. But then there was no signage to our luggage carousel - and when we did find it, there was the inevitable delay with retrieving luggage. Finally, the constipated machine began to spit out bags - slowly and one by one... Alan's luggage came off relatively quickly but mine was nowhere to be seen. In the end, we decided that it was best for me to grab Alan's luggage and hopefully find our driver, and then wait for him.... 
It worked. Our patient driver was waiting for us. After a very long time an exhausted Alan arrived in a lather of sweat with all my luggage and soon we were speeding off to Yaroslavskiy Railway Station.
During our trip to the station, I noticed that I was unable to pick up the internet on my iPad. I had not realised in the panic of the situation, that our SIM card had stopped working when we left Sochi. And despite the promises from the shop in Makhachkala where Abdullah had so carefully ensured it would be effective for our the duration of our trip, it was obviously not going to work countrywide - I guess not all that surprising for such a huge nation.  
Alan however, was not concerned. "We will buy one at Yaroslavskiy Railway Station" he breezed. Well, we didn't.... By the time we arrived, not only were the SIM card stands closed but also, most of the food shops. It was not a great start.... 
Yaroslavskiy Railway Station
Even in the late hours of the evening, Yaroslavskiy Railway Station was impressive. Well, that is - the exterior of the building. Built in the early 1900's, the classically Russian building was magnificent, adorned with tall elegant turrets and wonderful arches. 
Late in the evening, the traffic outside the station was surprisingly chaotic. There was no parking we could see and travellers struggling with enormous amounts of luggage were quickly bundled out of taxis, which like our transfer car, sped off quickly into a frenzied nightscape.  
The interior of Yaroslavskiy, was far less aesthetic. Like most large transport hubs, the huge station interior was quite confronting with signage, as well as electronic departure and arrival noticeboards seemingly all in Russian. People were moving in all directions, most of whom displayed that certain air of confidence of those who unlike us, knew exactly where they were going.
To our surprise, a kindly, uniformed older official approached us, asking in perfect English as to where we were travelling and which train we were booked upon. After sighting our tickets, he explained very clearly where we should go to find the platform and how to board our train. We were mightily impressed!
An exhausted Alan flopped down with our luggage while I tried to find some food. Thankfully, we had just on half an hour to spare. With my very limited Russian I managed to buy some beer, piroshki and some sweet biscuits. While the piroshki was disgustingly greasy, it did the trick. The beer of course was fabulous.
During my wanders of the railway trying to find out platform, a young Chinese man approached me. Would I look after his luggage while he used the toilet? Fleetingly, but only fleetingly, I thought of terrorists who leave their baggage full of explosives with unsuspecting strangers. Really, it was foolhardy of me to agree. But then again, you have to have some faith in people when you travel. And anyway, I reasoned that if it had contained a bomb, I'd still have my head blown off even if I had walked away. As it happened, the young man was catching the same train as us. He was travelling in a carriage which was reserved for Chinese passengers only - at a much lesser price, he told me. I was to run into this nice young man several times on our long journey to China.
Thankfully, our train was on time. But trying to find the location of the platform was a nightmare. We found the correct signage but there was no platform. OMG! I thought. How much more can go frigg'n wrong? We were saved. A kind passenger on noticing our dilemma, escorted us to a closed plain white door where we walked down a very long enclosed corridor to the platform. I thought later just how scary it would have been to be on your own. Not only was it impossible to find but it was dark and lonely. 
We found the train. The Providnitsa (carriage attendant) on sighting out tickets, smiled and showed us to our carriage - and the astonishing vertical climb a meter or so to the car. Somehow, one case at a time, we manage to heave up all our luggage. Exhausted, we flopped onto our beds. And opened our precious bottle of Scotch Whisky. 
"Why did you buy only one bottle?" asked a very tetchy Alan....

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