Life on the train
July 17th 2012 The guy who drove us to the station was the same one who picked us up when we arrived from St Petersburg, still as grumpy as before so it wasn't down to the early start as I'd assumed. Still, although he didn't speak a word of English he was able to get the message across about which train we should catch, which platform it would leave from and what time we could board - most of which
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