"Blogging isn't journalism, it's graffiti with punctuation."

>sweet about me? nothing sweet about me

>i’m in bucharest now….like i said in the last entry, my train ride was indeed 27-fucking-hours. we never surpassed 120 km’s per hour, and spent 3 hours sitting at the ukranian/romanian border (it took me an hour just to get my passport back!).

the train originated in moscow and it’s last stop was sofia, that’s definitely a long haul train. it was ricketty, shaky, jarring and had me longing for the super fast TGV trains that zoom through france with hardly a dust spec displaced.

at the same time, there was something beautifully endearing about this experience. i shared a sleeper with this old ukranian woman. a kerchief around her hair, long floral dress, a massive growth next to her nose …”the map of her life was written in the lines of her face. “ she sliced up pieces of fresh bread, garden-picked tomatoes, boiled eggs, potatoes, and roast chicken, and sprinkled bits of salt on them while offering me some. she did crosswords and made her bed so perfectly neat before night set in. then, just as i thought she couldn’t get any more old-world-eastern-european, she whipped out her cell phone.

i loved her.

she reminded me of the old warsavian woman i shared i train compartment with back in july of 2006 (which you can read about here, scroll through midway into the entry).

here are some snaps of my journey

with so much time, i managed to journal 28 pages worth…

as night fell, beautiful colours speckled the horizon

blurring the trees

this particular train offered mugs and hot water, if you brought your own tea along (which i did of course…mmmm, lemon green tea)….but i wasn’t expecting this ornate and elaborate glass and holder.

in between cities, it was like time travel. going back 50 years to when people worked in the fields with hoe’s and donkeys

more people working in the fields

and even more people…i love what they’re wearing.

keep in mind, these photos were snapped as we sped by…this guy was a white spec in a restless sea of swaying green

horse-pulled carriages dude! they were everywhere! and they aren’t Amish!

see what i mean by everywhere? i’ve never seen so many horses and cows and sheep and goats and donkeys just chilling like they be owning the joint.

he looked right at me as i sped by. and he’ll never see me again.

i smell like Eau de Czech and desperately need a shower.

romania awaits!


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