We were absolutely fearless when we joined the queue to buy train tickets to Kyiv. Having survived and conquered the Morocco’s bus system and other difficult situations, we thought we were more than equipped to handle the 8 1/2 journey….
Our carriage resembled more of a dorm room with empty beer bottles strewn around the leftovers from a food fight (chicken of course). Our neighbors had obviously been drinking the night before and were now dozing very loudly in time to the train’s melodic sway.
This was literally the width of the “bed” we were given, the least said about it’s length the better. All the windows were locked in the 35ْC afternoon but we kept on smiling…
During the second half of the train journey, our happy neighbors woke up and decided to celebrate again. We were chatted up in Polish and/or Ukrainian half mumbled drunken stupor and were offered what can only be described as Ukrainian moonshine; homemade from plums (apparently), not that it tasted of anything except it’s 70% alcohol content.
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