Train to Moscow and then fly, baby, fly

I woke up on the train to my own alarm at noon. I fell asleep a few more times, but the train was already buzzing with daytime activity, so I simply lay there reading a book. At lunchtime I got up, ordered a coffee with chocolates - this was my lunch :)

The closer we get to Moscow, the more snow there is on the ground and on the trees. The villages look gloomy and untidy. Somehow everything is so sad and not at all majestic. The people on the train are gloomy too, and some are downright hostile. There was even a small conflict, caused purely by one woman's rudeness, tactlessness, and lack of manners.
I'm swollen, but keep smiling :)

We arrived in Moscow on schedule. Luckily for me, the Aeroexpress from Belorussky Railway Station went straight to Sheremetyevo. So I got off one train to catch another :) Happy, I'm smiling all the time, but of course everyone around me was serious and gloomy. At the airport I wandered around for another 2 hours looking for glue (to stick a photograph to the application form — spoiler: I didn't need it) and nail polish remover — my toenails looked absolutely terrible — and I washed them off right there.

An unforgettable experience of flying with an illness

Finally, check-in and the plane, filled with Asians :) The guy sitting next to me with a family couple spoke a little Russian — that was unusual :) Flight attendants served us food quickly — even brought me a special requested meal without salt :) and I was already watching a movie when suddenly I felt ill: my stomach, as usual :( But this time it decided to hurt as much as possible! My pills were in my luggage, so I asked the flight attendant, but they didn't have anything useful. After a while I had to almost crawl to the back, where all the flight attendants and the male flight attendant were, to ask for any kind of pill because I was losing consciousness from the pain. But they reacted far too strongly — it got to the point where they with the plane captain were considering landing the plane in Delhi and taking me to a local hospital — I flatly refused: just the thought of an Indian hospital and its sanitary standards made me start itching all over. I'd rather lie down here and die on the spot. But fortunately it passed — the pain gradually eased and became much less severe, although they still checked on me every hour after moving me to the back of the plane (by the window!). It was awkward, but also pleasant at the same time — what an intense experience :D