Belgrade

(I'm actually writing this post on September 27th from an Internet cafe in Belgrade)

It sucks to get up at 5:00 am. Luckily, I made my train. I met Cosmin, another volunteer at the Institute and he got me on the train. Unfortunately, not the right train. Another guy and I hopped off at the last minute and onto the right train just as it started to pull away. Luckily, this was the right train and we just sat in our cabine out of breath. Turns out he was going to Belgrade for a tennis tournament and spoke excellent English.

The train ride was uneventful. We stopped at the border and all the Romanians were made to get off for reasons unknown. I was mostly concerned with getting my passport back. Happily, after about 45 minutes, everyone was let back on the train and we went on with the trip.

The train was almost an hour late. I felt so bad for Rob who was waiting for me at the station. We quickly got in contact with Jane and spent the day touring the city. I got to taste the very famous and very delicious burec. It's basically this greasy meat pastry that you eat with yoghurt. I also got to meet Mike, another Canadian intern as well as an Aussie working at the embassy and Jen, an American doing animation in an orphanage. A great group.

Rob and Jen dropped me off at the station at 9:00 and we waited for almost an hour for the Aussie (can't remember his name). Then they took off at 10:00 pm. My train wasn't until 11:30 pm. I went inside the station and all the destinations were written in Cyrillic. I'm sorry to insult all the Slavs who use that alphabet, but it looks like it was designed by a dislexic four year old. I couldn't even tell which trains were coming and which were going. All I knew was that my train left at 11:30 so I figured out that the CO-(-)-NA meant "Sofia".

I wanted a couchette so I politely asked the ticket controller if he spoke English. Nope, only Serbian. Lovely. Try telling someone who doesn't speak your language that:
a) you want to buy a couchette
b) you need to know the price of said couchette
c) you will *not* surrender your ticket
d) he cannot have your passport

We finally settled on a price of 5 euros which was very reasonably. Especially since he agreed to let me have the couchette to myself. He wanted my ticket which I did not want to leave with him. I still had 4 days of travel left on the pass so I wanted to make sure I got it back. I tried to ask why he wanted it but how do you explain "Why?" is another language. Then I had a brilliant idea. I ran to get my handy Lonely Planet Eastern European Phrase Guide and found "Why" in Serbian. He burst out laughing, which only made me laugh even harder. Finally, I just let him have it. A few minutes later, he returned with extra blankets. Score!

The trip itself was fine. I was able to lock the door and except for the border guards, no one interrupted me. Unfortunately, the curtains didn't cover the whole window so the lights at every stop woke me up. Oh well.

I was supposed to meet two of the Serbian delegates on the train but since there was no way to reach them, I had hoped that we would meet up. We didn't.

When we pulled into the Sofia station, I started talking to another passenger. He worked as a mechanical engineering researcher for the University of Sofia. We spent about 40 minutes talking. I love how I always meet interesting people on trains.

I quickly found Iany and Momir and Peter from the seminar. I was nearly dead from sleep deprivation but they seemed very nice. We went outside and I met up with the rest of the group. We had more than a two hour drive to Kyustendil. I sat withg Adriana, another intern from the Institute and talked with Nicolae, a representative from Bucharest.

Everyone was so nice. The Serbians were crazy. We listened to traditional Bulgarian music and they were dancing in their seats.

In Kyustendil, we found an internet cafe where I was able to publish the above post. We also got lunch. Now I know how Japanese tourists feel.

"What do you want?"
"Uhhhh"

I couldn't even read the menu as it was in Cyrillic.

Or maybe this is how illiterates feel.

I settled on something with chicken and cheese and red peppers. Seemed safe enough. And it was quite tasty.

Then it was back in the bus for the rest of the trip to the hotel.