Как добраться из Шереметьево до Казанского вокзала за 1 час

Расстояние от аэропорта Шереметьево до Казанского вокзала составляет 47 км. Время в пути без учета пробок 2  часа. Эту информацию  я нашла в интернете. А мы добрались за 1 час.
Cкажете это нереально в Москве - городе, где половина жизни горожан проходит в пробках. Могу рассказать, как мы с мужем с чемоданами наперевес пронеслись от аэропорта Шереметьево до Казанского вокзала за один час. И это реально, особенно когда есть хорошая мотивация.
Маленькая предыстория. Новогодние каникулы 2011-2012гг мы с мужем решили провести в России в Нижнем Новгороде с моей мамой. Конечно же заблаговременно купили билеты на самолет и поезд.

Рассписание нашего маршрута было примерно таким:
23 декабря в 11:50 вылетаем из Бангалора прилетаем в Дели в 14:45 (В Индии время индийское, в России - российское разница 1,5 часа).
Из Дели самолет вылетает 24 декабря в 00:25, а прилетает в Москву в 05:30.
Далее отправление поезда из Москвы в 12:40 и в Нижнем Новгороде мы уже в 19 часов вечера. Этот поезд был самым ранним, на который бы мы успевали, следующие отпралялись уже в пятом часу вечера и позднее.

Trip to the village

I just want to describe one memorable day on our short fortnight visit to Russia this year 2012. This was the first time when Jignesh visited Russia in winter. Actually, it was his dream to experience cold weather conditions and see the snow. 

Generally, the best places to experience ample amount of white snow are outskirts of the city and country side. These are the only places where the nature is untouched by heavy traffic and dogs with their yellow marks prominently visible every hundred meters. 

Public transport stories

  Traffic jams in a rush hour are usual on my way to the office and back home. And it is not uncommon that public transport breaks down on the way causing more troubles for the traffic. So the events which accompany such cases are worth describing for acute observers.

  Every day I take the same route to reach my office. First I go by tram which takes passengers to the upper central part of the city across the bridge and the hill. And then I catch any route taxi to the bus stop near my office. Though I have direct transport from home, it is almost impossible to get on it in a rush hour. The feeling of terror overwhelms as you see chock-full buses with protruding doors holding pressed parts of clothes, bags and smashed faces behind the glass -those are passengers  who were "lucky" to be the very last to enter.
  However once you manage to push into, you are condemned to have a “sardines in a can” experience. It is when you are travelling squeezed in a cramped bus all the way through the traffic jam hanging or lying in a standing position on somebody’s back, shoulders, even head with elbows or fur hoods of the neighbors’ coats right in front of your face tickling your nose, and you have to spit out the hairs after every sufficient jerk of the bus. At the same time, the tension grows up with the whole body massage by elbows, bags and umbrellas. And when you elbow your way towards the exit and finally get off and hungrily gasp a fresh air with torn away buttons and crushed shoes and feeling as if you had being chewed.

  So just to avoid pleasure from experiencing community closeness I take the tram. The one very unpleasant drawback is that they break too often and it usually happens on the bridge just near the foot of the hill.

So passengers face a dilemma: go back across the whole bridge to the nearest bus stop or to the equally near stop up the hill passing by  a picturesque view over the Great Russian river Oka and the lower part of the city.

  Finally, here is the description of the whole process. Near the foot of the hill the tram breaks down. After a few attempts to start the machine the driver make an announcement that the tram is broken and will head off for the depot for repairmen. At the same time, doors open and a flow of angry people pours on a cramped road blocking the way and leaping among isles of a tight car lines meeting mutually angry faces of drivers. 
Some enthusiasts stay in the tram in anticipation that they will be ignored and the tram will start off. But our drivers and conductors always "care" about every passenger. Initially comes the first warning with three exclamation marks to leave the tram. Here the conductor comments that they cannot break the rule and go on to move with people on-board. 
   Those who lost the faith get off, and only bold enthusiasts leave to see the focal part of the drama around the tram sensing the tenseness of the situation. 
Then comes the second warning of the driver who is on the verge of hysteria asking all passengers to leave the tram accompanied by hostile comments of the conductor that driver has no rights to risk lives of the passengers, and only two of them can sacrifice themselves due to their responsibilities.
   Then noticing that some passengers are still not touched by the tram drivers’ dangerous fate, the driver personally meet those brave hearts and for the sake of considering all the precaution measures and armed with noble virtues of saving human lives they shove the rest of the passengers on the automobile road, a female driver can even ask for the help of liable passengers who left the tram but still puzzled what to do. So once excited passengers on the road they are like rebellions become the masters of the traffic apart from those who without hesitation started to mount the hill. So traffic masters begin to stop any passing buses or even cars.

  Of course you realize that passengers from the following trams on the same tracks are experiencing more or less the same situation with the only difference that nobody is shoved out. However sometimes there is a possibility that the broken tram will be fixed or drown to the depot quite soon after the first announcement. In that case those who stayed, enjoy spacious travel with any kinds of seats available in the carriage, and generous and caring drivers pick up exhausted rock climbers on their way.
  That is why I always prefer bicycling whenever it is possible.

First trip to India

Needless to say I was thinking about traveling to India, but after browsing in the Internet and looking though all the tourist reviews I gave up that idea. But my pen friend from India had a really tempting offer to be a guest at the Indian wedding. Apart from this he proposed to travel to other places for sightseeing. So I made up my mind and went to India on my vacations.

December 6, 2008

 My first day in India. I arrived early in Delhi. I had to take a domestic flight from Delhi to reach Ahmedabad, where my friend met me and we went to Vododara by car. On the motorway there were booths for paying fares, where traffic officers gave sweets along with the change. On our arrival we had little time to get prepared before the wedding began. After checking in at the hotel with an interesting name “Kalyan” meaning wellbeing, prosperity, we went to buy ethnic clothes for me.

The shop seemed to be small but the variety of clothes there was huge because all the walls were cramped with colorful layers of clothes. One can spend there hours sitting on comfortable low seats with cushions watching how shop assistants unwrap one packet after another.

So after all preparations we were on the spot. It was a wide ground in the schoolyard covered with decorated tent to protect from the scorching sun. As my friend told me there should be about 300 people where the majority was relatives. Men were dressed casually but women were fantastic in colorful saris with lots of jewellery and bangles on their hands gathered in a unique design to match colors of clothes. Their hands and even palms were also painted in natural colors of henna.