From Banat to Maramures...

After a hectic Friday, I finally managed to get my ticket to Sighetul Marmaţiei. CFR was hectic as usual.

On a 14 hour train...why aren't there any couchettes?

Why why why?

I decided against my better judgement to get a second class seat. I assumed the train wouldn't be too busy.

I reloaded my Sim card before the trip, ensuring hours of SMS fun.

I climbed on. I forgot about assigned seating and found a nice, empty car. A few minutes later a librarian-ish looking woman came in. She read. I read. I was content.

--
To: Nelu
No fat hairy guys or fat hairy lesbian mosquitos (yet). 30 mins down, 720 to go. These seats suck. I'm such a masochist.
--

In Arad, the car filled up. Turns out I was in someone's seat. And of course, *my* seat was at the opposite end of the train. I had a huge bag with me that I had to lug through the tiny aisles.

So I end up in car #7. I have seat 61. There's a woman in it. The car is full of kids. I tell her I have seat 61. She tells me she does too and is not moving. "Besides, my daughter is here too!" in a sickening "I am entitled to everything because I have children" voice.

"What do I do then? We both have tickets for seat 61."
"I don't know or care. I'm not moving."

I had never once insinuated that she move. Like I wanted to spend the next fourteen hours in a car with four other children. I just wanted to know what to do.

I walk out in a huff and move to the area outside the bathroom. I start furiously texting everyone I can think of to complain.

A few minutes later, a guy runs out and tells me there's a free seat in his car. I'm wary. What if it belongs to someone at the next stop?

"Whatever" I think and follow him.

Unfortunately, the seat is riding backwards. I suffer from horrible motion sickness, but I'm reluctant to ask him to switch with me. However, I decide that asking him to switch will be infinitely less painful than having to contend with a large puddle of vomit. Luckily, he obliges.

--
To: Dario
Went to folk festival last night. Am on train now. 13 hours, no couchettes. I am a masochist. Will be 4 km from the Ukraine. How are you? With friends? What are your plans? Bachee!
--

I spend the next few hours trying to decide if his riding companion is his mother or girlfriend. He looks about 17, she's about 35. They cuddle, giggle, share cigarettes... Anyways, it occupies some of my time. The guy beside me seems to be a posterboy for NAMBLA. The elderly man beside him caresses his leg, he sleeps on his chest, and altogether the situation seems quite unwholesome.

Karla's rules for sane travel:
a) All children must be in their own cars (to prevent them running up the aisles at 4 am, singing nursery rhymes)
b) All old people must be in their own car (because they seem to talk to themselves all night)

I was smooshed in the middle of three people. The people to my right and left were asleep. I contemplated using them as pillows.

--
To: Nelu
Kids and old people should have their own wagons. I just want to sleep damnit! I bet he'll start snoring soon. I need a pillow...and tranquilisers.

To: Johan
Hej! hur mar du? Jag ar pa ett tag och jagaker till norden av Ro! 13-15 timmar! Jag ar med 7 personner. Jag vill bara sover. Saknar dig!
--

I was ready to murder the old man. He insisted on keeping the curtains open all night. Maybe you want to look out at the black country side, but some of us (like the other seven people in the car) want to sleep. And besides, the lights at the stations are *bright*. Especially Cluj's.

At Cluj, we stopped for almost half an hour. We also switched directions. Luckily, I managed to nab the opposite seat, although I panicked the rest of the trip that the train would switch directions again.

Another restless six hours and we got to the subhurbs. Many of the building as cyrillic writing on them. Probably due to the close proximity with the Ukraine. The train passed by a row of trees, going so close that children (and me too) reached out through the windows to grab handfuls of branches and leaves.

Most of the people had left, except for the weird mom/girlfriend. Soon, a young girl got in our car. They seemed to be friends. She brought fresh lemon bread and offered slices all around. I think she was Hungarian because I didn't understand a word she said.

--
To: Nelu
Biochem takes the fun out of bio (cutting things open) and chem (blowing things up). Good luck tomorrow, you're going to kick ass! I <3 Maramures!
--

I arrived safe and sound, albeit a little groggy. The town seemed a little run down and had a dusty, provincial feel to it.

While I waited for Cipri to come pick me up, I started talking to two young French tourists. They wanted to have a tour of the area, so I told them to wait for Cipri and he would be able to arrange everything.

Cipri arrived a few minutes later. I met his guest, Angel, for whom he was giving a tour. What a lovely, lovely lady. She's a sociologist from Indonesia and was in Romania for a conference. Her English was perfect and she was so funny and interesting.