Night Train to Ukraine

My destination was the Ukrainian border, because for some reason that was the logical next step.  I didn't go to Bucharest, and I didn't go to Moldova, and I didn't even do a Bulgarian dip, as I am often so wont to do.  In fact, I felt rather limited in that I was waiting for my work permit to clear and always wanted to be within Budapest's one-day-train-ride ambit.  Moldova is not in that ambit.  Moldova does't fall into very many ambits, if I'm honest.*  

The train itself was kind of freaky because it was a newish style of train, in which there were no cabins and instead was very open.  It made for difficulties in sleeping, but I did get to talk to some old women and watch some hot young babes get kicked off the train in the middle of the night.  I'm not sure what that was all about.  But I had pizza and beer, and is there any other way to maximize your potential when you're unemployed and highly mobile?  If there is, I don't want to hear about it.  

Apparently this was an actual stop.  

In any case, I woke up in Cluj Napoca feeling groggy and dissheveled (2007 throwback) and forced to de-train and get into a much more enjoyable regional carrier.  You know, the ones with the pleather seating covers and the individual cabins.  My bread and butter.  I couldn't wait to get in and collapse onto a seat and sleep for several hours as the train inched through the Carpathians at a excruciatingly slow pace.  Which it did.  And I loved it. 

Romania is so beautiful.  And the Carpathians are so nice in the fall that I found myself actually preferring to spend my time watching the scenery go past with my head out the window like a dog rather than actually sleep.  We snaked through valleys and past charming villages, one with a group of small children waiting by the tracks to wave--and then flip the bird--at the passengers.  It really was a pleasant experience.  The closer we got to the Ukrainian border, the more multilingual the signs on the train stations became and the more stunning the scenery.  

By about 11am I was in Sighetu Marmatiei and I was able, this time, to walk across the border, because evidently that's all everyone else was doing.  I feel like in this region, people are constantly just walking across border, with those burlap sacks, as if to suggest there are different goods on either side of the border.  I'll be the first to admit that the cookies are better in Ukraine, but apart from that things are pretty similar.  

I crossed into Solotvino and discovered I had just missed the train to Lviv so I decided that this was a perfect time to really soak up all that Solotvino had to offer.  After 15 minutes passed, I decided that all I really wanted was a huge dish of perogies and I had some of the best ones I've ever eaten at a little restaurant nearby.  Then I ran back to the depot, discovered that the only tickets left were the second class ones, and I thought, well, I only live once and I'm on vacation, so why not split a berth with 4 other people?  And I did.  

*Don't worry, Moldova, it's not you.  It's Western notions of ethnocentric territorial nationalism.   Don't ever change.