Day 35: Two Hours to Kill in Nizhny Novgorod, Russia

Buying train tickets in Russia was one of my biggest challenges. Even with a Russian SIM card in my phone, combined with the Google Translate app, I felt like a deaf-mute. I always tried to get my next train ticket as soon as I figured out where and when I wanted to travel next.

So I went into the Kazan train station with this message on my iPhone:

I showed it to the woman at the information desk, but of course she spoke no English. She pointed to the station master's office. I held up my phone to the woman in charge. She also spoke no English, but made a phone call for me to someone who did know English. First of all, I was in the wrong ticket office. So she directed me over the phone to the Long Distance ticket office. And she explained that there are no direct trains to Vladimir from Kazan. I would have to change from my night train to a shorter day train in some place called Nizhny Novgorod, with a 2-1/2 hour layover.

A few buildings away, I found the Long Distance ticket office. I picked the window with the shortest line, but still it took a long while to work my way to the front. They have to stare at their computer screen a long time, star at your passport or ID card, then type in your name, passport number, date of birth and other information into the computer so it prints on your ticket. By the time I finally got to the front of the line, the woman pointed to a sign in Russian and slammed the window shut and pulled down a shade. I looked at the sign. Apparently, it showed the times of her breaks.

All I could do was get into another line and start over. I checked and double checked this agent's break times to be sure I had time to get my ticket. When it was finally my turn, the woman started talking to me in Russian. If I hadn't been coached ahead of time about the change of trains, I may have thought tickets weren't available to Vladimir. I held up two fingers and said "Yes, yes, two trains," which seemed to console the agent, because she asked for my passport and began processing my tickets. Goal achieved.

After a good night's sleep on the train, I stepped out at dawn from the Nizhny Novgorod train station, an ugly Soviet-style building. I wondered how I would pass two hours in this nowhere town. Turns out, but I didn't know at the time, Novgorod has a population of over a million, and supposedly has a nice historic district, tourism on the Volga River, and a cable car ride providing a great view of the area.

Not knowing which direction to go, I chose one. I ended up in a marketplace. The people setting up their clothing stalls had fun joking with me and asking me where I'm from. Well, I assume that's what they were asking because when they got nothing but a smile from me, they would start guessing places like Australia, Germany, England, until I said "California." Then they'd ask me something else in Russian, with the same result. So they'd start pointing to themselves and other vendors and saying their names. One guy got really excited to learn that my name is Chelsea because he had a knit cap for sale with the name "Chelsea Football Club" on it. He thought for sure I'd buy one, but the word Chelsea was too small for my liking.

Out on the street, there were more vendors, probably from Kazakhstan or Uzbekistan. They seem to be like Mexicans in California, immigrating one way or the other to do the jobs that the Russians don't want to do. I bought some great cashews from a friendly guy, really crunchy and not salty. And some dried apricots and dried figs, also very good and not too expensive. I walked around the neighborhood. Kind of a run-down area. 

I passed by the marketplace on my way back to the train station. By now most of the stalls were open. Seems like everyone wanted their picture taken. One funny guy wanted a picture with me and handed my camera to a friend of his. I saw some fur caps and casually asked the prices since my friend Daniel asked for one. 2000 rubles ($32) sounded like a lot until I realized they're real fur, not fake. When I asked, the guy what kind of fur, he knew the word in English: mink. He had fox furs and tails hanging also. My Italian friend Diego had already told me that the Russians have no hesitation to kill animals and wear their furs. When in Rome....no, I still couldn't imagine me wearing a dead animal or buying one for a friend. The cap would have to wait.

Nizhny Novgorod rail station has a big freight yard. Seemed like an ugly industrial city.

This whimsical statue is across from the ugly train station building, on the right with a clock on it. During the Soviet era many building classical buildings were destroyed and replaced with concrete boxes.

Across from the train station.

Street vendors were already up and waiting for business.

I went down a side street to get away from the traffic noise. I found many older, attractive buildings covered in advertising.

These ads cover the windows.

I was happy to find the outdoor market and people. This is the guy with the Chelsea Football Club knit cap.

The vendor next to him wanted his photo taken also. I can't tell. Are they brothers or cousins maybe? I think all these vendors are from Kazakhstan or Uzbekistan.

At first I couldn't figure out what these things are for, then I realized it's for canning. Most Americans don't can anymore, but it's still popular in Russia.

Felt inserts for boots, like the ones I bought in Kazan. Canning jars on the top right. Natural fiber brooms actually work better than the plastic ones made in China and sold in the U.S.

Everyone I saw seemed to be rushing to get to work, whether in a car or on foot.

The neighborhood seemed a bit run down.

A water pump made me wonder if there are still houses in the area without city water.

Russia, like China, is famous for their circuses. I've changed my attitude toward circuses and can't support the abuse of animals, but I thought this poster was pretty cool because the animals seemed integrated with the human performers.

The same poster on a bus. I was surprised how rundown the buses seemed when in general the buses and trains in Russia are quite nice.

I recognize this sign says "24 hours," just in case you have a flower emergency in the middle of the night.

After eating half of the cashews I'd bought earlier, I decided to swing back around by the market to get more. This guy seemed to be jealous that I'd taken photos of other vendors but not him (yet).

All these dried fruits looked so good and fresh and didn't taste of sulphur or any preservatives.

I bought some from him too, just to share the wealth.

The fruit looked good too, but I didn't want to carry too much. The vendor came running up as I was walking away. They're very trusting and honest.

This is the guy with the mink hats. Notice the fox pelts and tails behind him.

I think these are cheaper synthetic caps.

This guy insisted I take a photo of this woman. She didn't seem to mind.

Here's the guy who wanted us to have a picture together.

Then he made this funny pose.

Kind of a strange look, even on a mannequin. Winter coats with bare legs and feet. Brrrrr.

School uniforms, I assume.

When I saw this guy across the street, I thought the kid was real. Then I realized it was a mannequin.  Well, time to head back to the station to get my train to Vladimir.