On the train to Xian.

Xian is a short journey from Shanghai, or a long journey. I chose the latter.  20 hours seems a lot, yet I enjoyed those hours on the train. Sometimes not being able to talk much is a blessing.   I was happy to lie on my bottom bunk and doze and read or smile at the others in the area.  A young woman dressed in some ghastly outfit that made me think of Betty Davis in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane  was distressed as it turned out the two young women sporting eye operation bandages had occupied her compartment.  She almost fainted away at the sight, but nevertheless wanted a selfie with me, which helped pacify her a tad.

Old style trains. 

Surprisingly quiet most of the time. 

Note the kettle so I could make tea

 It amused me that despite the numerous staff who had gone round to use all individually that none of them had realised the wounded were in the wrong place.   After that most of us settled down.  The woman in the other bottom bunk had come well prepared with enough instant meals for lunch dinner and breakfast.  She was very worried that I had not eaten, but what I could not get across to her was that I had headed down to the canteen, in turned out later at the wrong time, which may explain the dismissive treatment I got from the steward who dug out a remaining lunch and sat on an empty table whilst the workers relaxed.  There were set times to eat, but I had not realised that. The food was delicious, but the pains after in my stomach, suggest that perhaps the rice had sat too long before I ate it and fo rthat reason I was not at all keen to have anything more, until in the morning I finally accepted a couple of plain slices of bread from my neighbour, who shared pictures with me of her grandson.    It was a nice peaceful start to my trip to Xian.