Insult to injury.
October 8th 2005 We squeezed into the minibus at 7 this evening, and set off for Kazan. The 850 kilometres of road was all bumpy and uncomfortable, and twelve seats for ten people didn't leave much room to sleep in. There were pot-holes everywhere that threw us around, and we even drove through two fields near Ivanovo when the driver got lost. Ivanovo in the dark was a frightening place, the fog and eerily silent
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