China by train

Having had a very late night and not having to catch the train until nearly midnight we elected to have a good lie-in followed by an easy morning. The check-out time for the hostel was midday but as is often the case, they were happy to let us leave our bags all day. A local delicatesssan provided us with lunch and after a chat with some of the young people of the hostel we headed out to do a little shopping. Both Lila and I had left our sunglasses at home and having had only a short time in any one place between journies we had not had a chance to do any laundry. I wanted to buy a fresh T-shirt as I was worried for my fellow travellers. I had noticed whilst exploring the area on Google Maps for likely places to eat that we were not far from a Decathlon. For my UK based readers who have not experienced the empire building of this French chain, it is a sports shop which sells all manner of practical goods for outdoorsy types. Mt family and many others I know are largely clothed from this establishment, as it provides decent quality at affordable prices (this blog is not sponsored, but is open to offers). I know they have been trading in the UK for some while now butwas a little surprised to see them in Moscow. We found it easily enough, a short walkfrom the hostel, in a shopping complex dedicated to French chain stores. Auchan and Leroy Merlin had oulets in the building, these being household names in France. Barring the absence of a very few items the stock was exactly the same as might be found in Auch, but many things were significantly cheaper. Much to my annoyance we found that the shirts and trousers we had bought at some significant expense especially for the journey were here at half the price.
This marked the beginning of what was to become the most hurrumphing afternoon thus far.
We headed for the metro and on to Red Square. The Moscow metro is very cheap by Western standards, being the equivalent of 50 Eurocents per trip, no matter where. This is the same for all public transort in Moscow as far as I could work out. Although I had managed to cope well with the ticket offices on the previous day, today was to be rather different. I thought I had succesfully bought a return tickets for the three of us and understood that there were three fares on each of the two tickets I had been issued, one for each direction. On reaching the gate it turned out that the first ticket had only 2 fares, on producing my receipt for the guard he waved us through, rather for an easy life than through mutual comprehension I think. We arrived at the center of Moscow in the drizzle and after several days of sight-seeing with rather aching feet. It is a magnificent area and it isimpossible not to be impressed but we had left it too late in the day to make the most of it and were feeling a little jaded. An emergency ice-cream in the rain gave us the strength to enter Red Square where the harumph-o-meter hit critical levels. Not only was the Lenin Mausoleum shut for works but FIFA had erected enormous marquees in the centre of the suare, ruining the ensemble with gaudy ephemera. My usual ambivalent tolerance of the "beautiful game" was being tried once more. We had arrived too late to enter St. Basil's and I had also to abandon my ideas of visiting the Bolshoi Theatre. We shall return to Moscow though I think the Bolshoi will be closed to visitors by then, but at least FIFA will be gone. We did manage to enter the Temple of Mammon which is GUM, where the toilets cost 200 roubles a pee and the windows display the trappings of the oligarchs. In fairness Lila and I were much taken with the dresses of Bosco which for their workmanship and beauty did not seem overpriced.
Footsore, hungry and overwhelmed by a full week of intensive tourism and travel we set off back to the hostel for dinner and a few hours of relaxation before boarding the Trans-Mongolian Express. It was upon reaching the now crowded late-afternoon metro that the earlier muddle with the tickets came back to haunt us with a vengance. I had naively hoped that our earlier problems were due to my lack of understanding and that our remaining ticket would have three fares on it. Suspecting that this might!not in fact be the case I sent the children through the gates first, with instructions that if I should not be able to pass they should wait until had bought another ticket. Having indeed been stopped I joined a queue and reaching the front foolishly tried to explain, through production of my receipts and tickets, that I had been incorrectly credited. My well-travelled and world-wise readership will recognise this immediately as an idiotic course and one doomed to failure. Having too belatedly decided to cut my losses I now tried to explain to the lady that I should like to buy a single ticket and handed over the smallest denomination I had, a 500 rouble note. By this time I had completely befuddled the poor woman and she had great difficulty in understanding my request to now be a very simple one. By the time we had established my meaning through the use of a calculator we were both starting to lose what little patience we had started out with. This is where the trouble started. The cashier duly produced my 55 rouble ticket and asked me for the money. I indicated that I had already given her a 500 rouble note. She rather tetchily demonstrated that I had not. I am sorry to say that I may have joined in with the tetchiness in my rebuttle. Things from there, as they say, escalated quckly. I have no idea of precisely what she was shouting but I definitely got the gist, as it was well emphasised by the banging onto the counter of various objects. Feeling that this had gone too far for my delicate sensibilities and aware of the children waiting patiently for me the other side of the barrier I made placatory gestures and waved more money at her, in attempt to put all this ghastliness behind us. She however would have none of it. The ticket booth was closed and the long line of tourists and commuters behind me were directed to the end of one of the only other two long lines. I believe I must have been the most actively disliked Englishman in Moscow. Boris Johnson might well have felt some unknown psychic burden lift from him at that very moment. The lady refused all entreaties and headed for a telephone, made her call and stood staring at me with arms folded and a look of outrage. It was then that to my left I noticed, at the furthest booth, written in clear and bold type, "WE SPEAK ENGLISH". "Look before you leap" is not the least of the lessons to be gleaned from the sorry incident. There was no going back now though, some authority had been summoned, the other queue was long and slow, due largely to our stand-off and it was likely that I would be refused service there anyway. And so we waited, and waited, a policeman approached and to my relief passed by without interest. Half-remembered legends of the interminabiliity of Russian burocracy insinuated themselves into my mind. I left briefly to explain the situation to my weary offspring who had been told by some official that sitting down was forbidden. I returned and still we waited. After some long while a supervisor appeared, the situation was discussed and she sat down to count the day's takings. I tried once more to pay for an individual ticket but was abruptly and loudly told off. There was nothing to do but to stand and watch the counting of thousands upon thousands of roubles in all denominations as they were tallied with the receipts. The minutes passed and self-doubt welled within me. Had she in fact handed back the cash at some point in the confused discussion? Would I be ejected from the station for having accused this poor woman of negligence? As the count drew to a close the faces of the two ladies evidenced the fact that I had not been mistaken. There was no pleasure in seeing the poor woman's face , only a faint relief. She had wronged a tourist, shouted at him, detained his chidren, during the World Cup and worse, she had called her supervisor to witness and be drawn into the affair. The look was of bewilderment and horror. Fullsome apologies were offered by the supervisor, entreaties that I should forgive them both and understand that eveyone was very tired. I was certainly very happy to let the matter drop and all move on with our lives but was still a little peeved that after all this I was still expected to pay for my onward ticket.Læs mere