The frozen wait

From the airport to the train station

I see the airport; I have the impression of being at the entrance of an abandoned cave. But once inside to pick up the luggage, I find myself in a very modern universe and I remember that many great things today began in a garage, like Google, Apple or the Rolling Stones. I wait for my bags but since they don’t arrive, I’m a little worried. Finally they come. Dad sees a taxi driver and asks him how much it would cost to go to the station. The driver writes him something on a piece of paper, but dad finds it too expensive so he asks Sacha how much it costs and he tells him to wait. A few minutes later, he comes back and tells us that he’ll accompany us with his wife. We talk and he tells us to be careful because there is a lot of criminality and theft in Russia, we thank him. We finally arrive at the train station and we thank Sacha and his wife. We go in the station and dad tells me to wait. He’s going to find a place for us to rest. In the meantime, I sit and observe this crowded station. It reminds me of Gare du Nord in Paris, filled with people of different colors. Here, in this station, people must come from all the small Republics or former Republics of the USSR, places they are returning to. Finally, dad returns and tells me that it’s on the 8th floor with no elevator. We have to bring up the entire luggage, or else there’s a sort of VIP room with seats, so I tell him I prefer the second solution. We settle in a place where the people are exhausted and the woman at the reception is mean and cold. Dad charges the electronics. I watch a Russian television series about war and dad calls Paris. I call a few people and I’m happy. We wait for hours in this cold place before hearing “Astrakhan” and tell ourselves: “that’s us”.