Epic adventure...get comfortable. It's long.

Reader's Digest version:
Kat and I had to jump on an (almost) moving train.

J.R.R. Tolkein version:
Have you ever re-read a book or re-watched a movie and- despite knowing exactly what's going to happen- you still tense up and start to worry that the hero is going to die or that the guy and the girl won't actually get together? Take that feeling, multiply it by 42, and that was my day yesterday.

Boy, do I have a mental image for you.

Yesterday, unfortunately, was Kat's departure day. The plan was to take the 7:40 am train, arrive in Kiev at 12:10, and get to the airport a little after 1:00, so she could make her flight by 3:30. Straightforward. Or...it should have been...

My friend who normally orders taxis for me was out of town this week, so I steeled myself to make the call to the taxi company myself. I had rehearsed it several times by the time Sunday rolled around. Apparently, Taxi Friend was quite worried about the taxi company actually understanding my request and sending a taxi at the right time. She asked Friend #2 to call for me. So, on Sunday, Friend #2 asked me for all of the information and said she'd take care of me. I was quite relieved.

I sent a text message on Tuesday to confirm the time, etc. Things were looking good for us to get into a taxi at 7:15 Wednesday morning.

Kat and I were totally ready and waiting BEFORE 7:15. I kept peeking outside to see if our taxi had shown up. I kept waiting, trying to be calm. I'd allowed 25 travel minutes for a trip that only takes 10, but you never know.

At 7:20, I called Friend #2, who said that the taxi should be there soon. We waited and waited. I was getting QUITE antsy. At 7:25, I had to do something. I looked down the street and saw a taxi waiting. Kat and I booked it down and across the street, and I got us the taxi.

Of course this would be the one taxi driver in the whole city who doesn't drive with the gas pedal slammed all the way to the floorboard, and of course, we caught every red light between my house and the train station. I must have looked at my watch 387 times. Halfway there, I created a contingency plan; I gave Kat her train ticket and told her that when we got there, she might need to head out to the platform and stall until I could pay the driver. I felt a little silly, a little paranoid, but I thought it was better to be prepared.

A few agonizingly long minutes later, Kat asked, "How long until our train leaves?" I told her that it was about two minutes. She followed that with, "How much longer until we get there?" I told her that the answer to that was also "about two minutes." Yikes. I was starting to sweat.

We pulled up at the train station, and Kat started getting out, while I handled issues with the driver. He took up some of my precious time by trying to make change for me. I kind of yelled at him, telling him to keep the change (yes, that phrase I totally know in Russian).

Kat noticed that our train was still there, obviously taking comfort in that fact. I told myself to calm down, but something in my head told me to RUN! I started running into the train station, through the station, and out onto the platform...poor Kat having to keep up with approximately 3785 lbs on her back.

Our Day of Reckoning came when we reached the platform. Yes, technically the train was still there, but we noticed a few other details:
1. The steps into each car had already been stored.
2. The cabin attendants for each car were all holding out their "all-clear" signals for the conductor.
3. The engine was starting up.

I glanced at Kat's ticket and realized with dread that our car was the first one...and we were near the end of the train! I spat that information out to Kat, who then snapped into action.

"PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!" Kat started yelling in English, running at the closest car. All the attendants seemed to realize what was happening and started yelling at us in Russian. Thank the Lord, I understood what they were saying. One very kind soul was telling us just to jump into her car. Kat bounded up into the car (with her huge backpack), and I jumped up after her...AS THE TRAIN BEGAN PULLING OUT! I am not even exaggerating about this: my foot left the ground, and the train started moving.

I fumbled for my ticket but could barely get it out because my hands were shaking so badly. I finally found it, and Kat and I were able to begin our journey from the back of the train to the front. You know how train cars are held together? We got to maneuver across many of them to reach our seats.

For the rest of the day, we continued to feel that dread of "Are we going to make the train??"- despite the obvious fact that we were, in fact, traveling via train. Thankfully, the rest of our travels were way more boring than our morning's journeys. I think I aged 6 years, though.

It was quite a day. For Kat's account: kataroundeurope.blogspot.com