Thursday, 19 April 2012

Freemen.

We are free!!


Russia FINALLY let us go at 11:30am this morning (10 hours after we arrived) we then had to drag our bags to the bus station where we caught the bus to Tallin. YAY EU!


We are now safe in our hostel (although we are unsure if we are ever going to be allowed back into Russia, part of us is sad about that, part of is couldn't give two hoots) and we are still trying to process what happened. It all feels a bit like a really weird dream. The range of emotions that we went through would have been suitable only for a Jerry Springer show. There was anger, there was rage, there was worry, there was sadness, there was fear, there was complete unadulterated hysteria, there was tiredness, there was adrenaline and then dear readers there was the crash...


We are unsure if any of you have been in a situation where you have been so tired you wanted to vomit. We had only been allowed to sleep for eight hours in forty eight and after realising and coming to terms with the fact that we were now prisoners in Russia, the most extreme tiredness came over us. We couldn't talk to each other and all we could was try to sleep on a stone cold floor with (homemade) blindfolds on to block out the brightest lights in the world. Once we got on the Tallinn bus we completely zonked out. 


We will write an interesting, thought provoking blog later but for now it's quite clearly time to sleep. 


1 comment:

  1. If Russian red-tape is anything like the Polish, the problems end with filling in the paperwork. Once its done, it disappears in piles and piles of other paperwork in a filing cabinet in a basement halfway between Moskva and no where.

    Remember the Polish tax department calling me in, rifling through an A5 notebook - yes, a lined notebook like the ones we used in kindergarten - only to inform me that my tax went to the wrong (1st and not 3rd) window of the department LOCATED IN THE SAME BUILDING, so I had to retrieve it from window 1 and march it the 1.5 meters to window 3!!! Now that notebook is heaven knows where and there is virtually no record of me lodging my tax return in the first place!!

    That's act four in the theatre of the absurd. Must love not-so-former delinquent post-communist Europe.

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