Missing the Drop

So, after spending all our togrogs (actually, still got 15 left in anyone fancies them) we headed to the station ready for the next stage in our train ride. We waited by the carriage and watched to see who would be joining us. We heard her before we saw her. A loud booming voice was coming our way singing a song you may have heard in a nightmare Brownie/Scout camp scenario which went: (complete with marching steps) “I had a good home till I left, left, left. My mother told me to write, write, write“ (imitating this in William's vicinity will cause immediate dread ). The marching stopped as she announced her arrival at her appointed carriage – ours. (And soon to be in the compartment next door.)

The carriage was much the same – boiler at one end, crackly mattresses and a small square of material which was allegedly a towel. Will was onto Tea Duty before we had even left the station and breaking into our emergency snack supplies within the hour (a salmon snack-pack and Ritz biscuits).

There was a lot of hustle and bustle in the carriage. Mongolian and Russian people were squirrelling away all sorts of packages of assorted shapes and sizes, into ceiling compartments and trap doors in the floor (very 'Allo 'Allo). One bare chested chap, wearing rather dazzling colourful trousers, seemed to be discussing smuggling options with our Providnista (carriage attendant) as she revealed another hiding place.

As the border approached we watched the bare chested man don as many layers of shirts and jackets as he possibly could in an effort to carry this particular contraband into Russia.

The Mongolian Providnista came to our cabin and by using sbizarrezare role play which involved her stroking her upper lip and pointing to a wedding band we decided she wanted us to smuggle her husband over the border.

The man in question did indeed sit in our cabin while we crossed the border. He explained that he wasn't able to purchase a ticket from Mongolia, but would be able to once we crossed the border into Russia when people got off the train, which he did. For this we got special attention from our Providnista and I even got a chocolate (usually reserved for bribing officials!) – Will was rather put out .

The officials searched the carriage but didn't seem too interested by the hidden goods, or the man in many jackets.

We arrived in Irkutsk, me in my fleece, Will in his T shirt, and were greeted by bright, warm sunshine (and an excessively over-priced transfer). But where were the furry hats? "This is May, Luce."

# posted by William and Lucinda @ 11:33 am