To me, Yekaterineburg was all about snowing glitter and an empty backpack. It was so cold that I needed to wear all my clothes at once to conquer the -12 degrees. After Moscow and Kazan, this city left me nothing more than a camera full of monuments and a photo shoot with a local photographer. I have spent my first day in a beautiful theatre wearing animals on my head; all because of the fact that colourful outfits are quite seldom here.

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I really wanted to experience a couple of days on track, so I booked myself - in a timespan of three hours - firstly a wrong and then a modified ticket.
I have never impersonated a train with my hands and matching sounds as much as I did in that station. Oh, they laughed, but I finally managed to explain the date I really needed.
Packed with a bag full of food, music and books I was ready to embark, nevertheless reconsidering my splendid idea. 55 hours?

The provodnitsa checked my passport until she saw the birthmark on my lip actually matched the photo, so I pulled myself up into my new world on wheels.

This time, I was surrounded by families with children, and we silently conversed by sharing food and thanking each other deeply.
Yes! It was a marvellous idea. Gladly I encountered the opposite of the Russian stereotype.
Self satisfied I tuned into my dream world, but understood the morning after that my dorm mates declared me dead. My night-shield consisting of sleeping mask and earplugs made me sleep royally through the noise of the every day life on the rails.

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Just like the landscape, the days glide by. You simply socialize with anyone, because in the end, everybody is bored and wants to get distracted from the long journey ahead. I was occupied for hours trying to figure out the logic after the card games played, however I still strongly believe they were just throwing some cards and cheering on random moments.

Don't take the train with a friend, because everyone on track is already your friend.

These days have been a paragon of the real Russian culture to me, living and tasting it, whilst being transported to another destination.
These days have been triggering my imagination when I was wandering through a forest of hands and feet, being haunted by snoring people.

You are living your life without having any idea what time it is. You are crossing time zones, but life goes slower than it proceeds. You can walk in the opposite direction than you are actually moving forward to.

The train is all about opening and closing doors, it allows you to simply be.

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Between the lines I would like to share with you that it is very important to look carefully to the images on the labels in the supermarket. I wanted to fill up my food containers with a delicious pasta, but while preparing it, my mushrooms turned out to be beans. I sincerely apologize for the noses harmed in the taking of this train.

If you need to fart, just fart, it could be anyone.

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