Day nine:

The blood on the mattress was the first sign that something was amiss.

In today's reportage: third class rail travel, and totally hot 19 year old Russian girls! And that blood on the mattress? Yeah, that was on the train. Fucking Russia!

So, Lonely Planet likens third class train travel to living in a refugee camp. Third class is, really, where the poor people of a generally poor country go when they need to get around. The carriages sleep 55 people in a dorm setting.

Pretty awful, that third class. Awful, awful, awful...

Uh... where to begin? Okay, 55 bunks to a carriage. There are bunks at floor level, and there are raised bunks. I was assigned a raised bunk, of course. And there aren't any ladders or anything. One is required to sort of haul and shimmy into the upper bunk. And everyone gets a roll-out mattress to sleep on. Mine, as I mentioned, was bloody. How the fuck does that happen? Passengers are given clean linen to cover the mattress, but I didn't get any, since it's easier for the attendants to just ignore the weird foreigner than to ask if he wants some comfort.

So, anyways, yeah, I spent thirteen hours on my dirty mattress, without enough room to move around. I slept occasionally. And occasionally I was bitten by the bugs that lived in my mattress (really).

I was on the super-cheap train, so I wasn't allowed to leave the carriage to visit the dining car. I just laid down for hours and hours and hours.

Coming up tomorrow, though, is a 31 hour voyage in SECOND class. Luxury!!

But today wasn't entirely bad. See, I met some pretty girls! Upon arriving in Khabarovsk, I set about finding a hotel. That proved difficult... I wandered around and around without finding my preferred cheapie. But after a few hours of wandering, I was approached by some pretty teenage girls who wanted to help me find my way. And then did - they found me a hotel, knocked the price down by half AND booked my next onward train ticket.

Those girls are Carol and Karina, both 19 and blond and language students at the local university. We chatted a bit about this and that:

"Does Khabovosk have a decent cultural scene?"

"Well, we have vodka and borcht."

"No, like youth culture for you guys. Do you have some nice bands?"

"Sort of. We have music, but it's all rock music. We like pop music more."

"Like what sort of music?"

"Well, we APPRECIATE bands like Abba... Duran Duran... George Michaels... but the newer singers are better: Jennifer Lopez, Beyonce, Justin... (dreamily) Oh, Justin forever!"

Eventually, I had to send those girls on their way, so I could do some exploring. I found Lenin Square, eventually. These ex-Soviet cities that I have visited all have wonderful public squares. I only wish that I will be able to see some sort of rally or public even sometime. Maybe May day?

I had a late tea with my new friends just a few moments ago. I kept thinking like I was suppose to like... make a move or something. But I didn't. Apparently, 19 year old Russian girls aren't my bag. And also, I never got around to finishing my Nabokov paperback, so I don't really know how such things turn out.

scorecard: 11:30 train, Vladivostok to Khabarovsk, 13 hours

11:30 pm