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[lucky]

As travelers, we've all been in situations which were a little dodgy while we were on the road.

Either a mugging, a dark alley, lost in a new city?

Tell us all about it... what's your dodgiest travel story?

[bretch]

Was in Holland for the Dynamo festival... found a place to meet up with my friends to get the bus back at the end of the night to our camp-site. End of the night came, no-one to be seen. So I try and find the bus stop that I got off at, but couldn't, so got on the first bus I see, asking the cus driver if he knew my campsite, which I couldn't even pronance, he spoke little english, I speak now dutch. The bus came to the end of the line and I asked for the next bus back as this station was no-where near I needed to be, 'No more bus today' came the reply Damn. Figured I'd wait until the morning for the bus back. Then I see some bill boards that I see while the day before when driving about. I estimated i took 1/2 hour to drive so a 2 hour walk... in a general direction (please note that I was in Holland and if you know some of their laws...). I started walking. about 1 1/2 hours later, I walked into a town we had visited... all the 'cafes' were shut,put an end to a night of hot choc n . carried on walking, then I get to the outskirts of the town.... a road, very dark, with forests either side. I no choice and was sure this was the I was meant to take. Decided on a coffee at a 'normal' cafe first, asking the where abouts of my campsite without luck. Then I set off down this road, can't remember seeing any cars, but after about 3 hours (it's now about 4am), came across some young lads in a kind of layby, asked again and one told me he'd take me there on his 'bike'. I was really tired, so for some reason I agreed. After about 5 minutes a guy comes along on a moped/scooter thing, on he jumps, tells me to jump on the back and off we go. Now in Holland they ride bikes on the pavement, I had no helmet, was in shorts and a t-shirt and this maniac was steaming along, up n down kurbs at top speed, OK, only about 30-40 mph, but I still thought my days would end up in lying in a ditch under a moped . Thankfully after 10 minutes of sheer hell, I see my camp site, jumped off and after 5 hours of not knowing if I was lost or not, found my tent.....

[bretch]

Oh, my other, not so dodgy story is pretty simple. Charlotte, my Very dodgy transit van, with just about everything modified by a bunch of monkeys, broke down in Exmouth, just outside the national park, about 1/2 hour from the local town. Not too bad, but... my flight out from Oz was Sydney. Exmouth is, according to the maps, the furthest place from Syndey, I had no money, now no transport, and 3 travellers I picked up in Perth. The van was too ricky to have a bodge job repair.. and we then had 7 people to get in 2 cars, without the space of the back of my van. It was a big dilemma for me.... and I had to leave my poor Charlotte at a the back of the fire station, where they practise with their cutting gear....

[radsolv]

4 Mar 05
Really surprised there are so few entries in this category. Surely there must be lots of dodgey or dicey situations you've all been in.

I think 'lucky' s experience in Sri Lanka near the Tamil Tigers border qualifies.

Check out my 22 July 2002 entry in my Travelogue 'radsolv'.
Running with the 'terrorists', and let me know whether or not this qualifies as dodgey or not.

Have a few more old incidents of curiosity that might qualify.

[bretch]

Well Radsolv, where were you when it happened??? In the area = V dodgy/dangerous. if no-where near the incendent, just sad for the effected people.

Whats Lucky's experience, minds are curious......

[radsolv]

5 March 05

As to where was I during the incident referred to, I have updated the entry of July 21, 02 to my Log, radsolv. Also added a photo.

Would be very interested in any comments about this event and my comments on it. How about the entry above on the near collision in a Boeing.

You can read about Lucky's dodgey encounter in his own Log of his 11 months travel in 2002 under Sri Lanka.

[Dane]

We paid for what we thought was a really nice overnight bus ride from Pisco, Peru to Cusco. The super wow bus I referred to was actually called ¨Royal Class¨. AC, bathroom, double decker, smooth ride, food, and pretty much just for tourists. The woman that sold us the tickets showed us a picture of the bus on a poster in the station. It was an amazing bus. But that bus didn't pick us up. That bus may not even exist.

Our bus slowed down just enough on the highway to throw our bags on and let us jump in. As we walked in the darkened seating area, we noticed immediately that things were amiss. First of all, it smelled less than Royal. It smelled like sweat and feet and hard labor. All of which I have a powerful aversion to. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I noticed that there were a lot more people on the bus than I had expected. Mostly because there were more people than seats. Now I've ridden chicken busses in Central America. I don't have a problem with it. I just like to know ahead of time what I'm getting into. And after $20 for a ticket and being promised a king's chariot, I was less than thrilled with my ride. So as we walked back in search of our seats we found that they were already taken. By four people. I felt a little guilty as the woman who worked on the bus woke up the family camping in our seats and ushered them off to sit in the aisle in the back of the bus. But that went away as I watched the woman thoroughly dust off our seats after they moved. What was she wiping off? What did they do to our seats? And how long before whatever they left there burrowed its way into my body and nested in my small intestines? These are questions I would have 20 hours to brood over.

So it was 80 degrees outside. It was 85 inside. And every window on the bus was closed. I was baffled. And nauseous. And livid. So I opened the window next to me that I also shared with the woman sitting in front of me. The seats reclined nicely so I could see her and knew that she was asleep. I also knew how many moles she had, what her hair smelled like and was in the perfect position for me to perform dental work. She was so sound asleep that she was snoring audibly and in the pale moonlight I could see her mustache dance in the air exiting her nose. She was lovely.

Well as soon as I opened the window she woke up and closed it. I assumed she thought she had accidently left it open and the fresh air was disturbing her. Some people can only sleep well when surrounded by the smell of urine and rancid fruit. Well as soon as I opened it she closed it. So I explained that we were hot and opened it. She closed it. I opened, closed, etc. Finally I opened it and held it open while she tried with all her might and both hands to close it. She yelled at me in Spanish. I answered in half Spanish, 1/3 English, 1/4 French, and touch of gibberish. I knew I was bigger and stronger than her and refused to let go of the window. She turned and glared at me and yelled what I can only assume were horrible things. Beverley pretended to sleep. So as she yelled at me I realized she was half my size, but also had half as many teeth. Somehow that gave her an edge. I shrank back and she cackled at me. She closed the window. The bus which consisted of 47 Peruvians and 4 tourists stared at me. I pretended to sleep.

So we went through this hellatious ride through the dessert, sharp turns, bumpy roads, stifling heat, oppressive smells. I slept 10 or 12 minutes that night. Finally at about 4:00 am I got up the nerve to complain to the woman working on the bus. I told her we had been promised Royal Class. She smiled and said that none existed. I told her how much we paid, she laughed and told the driver to turn on the AC. So the bus had AC, but needed a request in order to utilize it. So they turned on the AC just as we turned and headed into the Andes. I woke up at 5:30 shivering. We had gone up a couple of thousand feet in elevation. It was cold. My teeth were chattering. And the woman in front of me had opened her window.

I spent the next 14 hours plotting her death. Out loud. She didn't understand me, but the Dutch guys on the bus did. They wouldn't speak to or look at Bev and I the entire trip. We were outcasts.

Well the bus ride was prolonged by several stops. We all got out at 6:00 am to pee on the side of the road. EVERYONE. Bev peed behind a rock that was entirely too small and forced us to be better acquainted than we ever wanted to be. Everyone else didn't seem to care. Public urination among strangers? No big deal.

I'll fast forward through the next 10 hours. 12 stops, 1 for gas, 1 for a meal, 10 to fix the bus. A little girl threw up 2 feet away from me. No one blinked. Vomit on the floor? No worries. Then they closed the bathroom because it smelled too bad. I demanded they let me in or I was peeing out of the closed window I shared with the toothless wonder. They let me in. It did smell too bad. And I got in there just as we hit a dirt road in the Andes. I peed everywhere but the toilet. It was all over the place. So I went back to my seat and changed shoes. And shirts. And hats. But somehow Bev and I managed to stay good sports about it the whole time. Very fortunate.

There were more incidents like this. Check out my travel pod for all the details.

[The Firm]

Well, here's my dodgiest travel story. I was travelling to Belize to go onboard a liveaboard (a yacht outfitted for scuba diving charters) for a week of diving and fun with my buddy Glenn. (Side comment - the liveaboard was the Wavedancer, which was lost in a hurricane a year later, along with 19 passengers and 1 crew).

Anyway, the trip started going wrong when the day before departure, I found out that TACA (a South American airline) had cancelled my connecting flight from Miami a month earlier, and booked my onto an earlier connecting flight to Guatamala. The travel agency had not informed me of this though. Unfortunately, the connecting flight was over an hour earlier, so I would only have 40 minutes to get my luggage and make the connecting in Miami.

And then a passenger on the Ottawa to Miami flight has a cardiac event as the plane is pulling away from the terminal, and we have to go back. And wait while the paramedics treat the guy, then take him off the plane. And then wait while the guy's luggage is located and removed. So, needless to say, when I get to Miami, my flight is gone. There's no sign of my dive buddy, who was going to meet me in Miami and take the flight to Belize. And the airline doesn't know if he got on the flight. So, I end up having to spend the day in Miami, and TACA puts me up in a cheap hotel in Little Havana, where nobody speaks English but me and the manager.

Anyway, after an hour on the phone, I find out from the Peter Hughes office (this is the company providing the liveaboard charter) that my buddy Glenn contacted them, and he is in Guatamala because the connecting flight to Belize never happened. By the way, we had to be in Belize that day because the boat leaves the dock at 6:00 pm, so we've literally missed the boat. But all is not lost, if we can get to Belize by noon, Peter Hughes' local agent can hire us a motor boat to take us out to where the yacht will be for the afternoon.

So next morning, I'm back at the airport, trying to renoegotiate a flight because the TACA flight they booked me on will get there in the evening, but I do manage to get a seat on an American Airlines flight that gets in at 11:00. This is the first thing that worked out right for the whole trip. I have to give the AA manager and staff in Miami credit for giving me priority seating on an overbooked flight just so I would get there on time, and I wasn't even their client to begin with.

So I finally arrive in Belize, a day late, and thank god, my dive buddy and the local agent are at the airport waiting for me. We get down to the waterfront, and there's this big cigar boat waiting, with a villanous looking local at the wheel, and the two biggest outboard motors I've ever seen strapped on the back. We throw in the gear and off we go. After about half an hour of experiencing the wind and spray of a sixty knot flight (I figure we airborne most of the time, just skipping across the tops of waves), I decide to go below decks before I suffer terminal wind burn. Well, below decks is a big open room in the bow, with no furniture, just dozens of cleats, and a cardboard box full of bungee cords. The whole area reeks of grass, so at this point I've now figured out that this boat probably isn't used for racing (unless you count outrunning the coast guard while delivering drugs or illegal immigrants to the U.S.A. as racing).

So I head back on deck, and there seems to be somewhat of a discussion going on. It seems that there has been a "misunderstanding", and that the $200 we were supposed to pay for the boat ride was actually $200 dollars each. Well, the local agent is apologetic, but what can he do? I figure he's probably in on the scam, and is going to get a cut.

Glenn and I talk it over, and we figure we have to pay up. I mean, we're fifty miles out to sea, with a central American drug dealer, and I'm pretty sure I've spotted a pistol inside his jacket. So our only real choice is to pay $400, and the best alternative is we pay the original $200, and he takes us back to shore. And, and more likely alternative is we swim back, and we don't have to worry about our luggage, and probably not our wallets and passports, as this guy will kindly take care of them for us.

So, a day late, red faced from windburn and $400 poorer, we finally found our liveaboard. The rest of the trip was fantastic, but those first two days were an adventure.

[Joseph]

I think my dodgiest experience was probably my entire trip to Dalian, China (I was there to teach ESL).

The first night I was there, I spent the majority of the time just kind of walking around trying to figure out landmarks around the apartment where I was staying - nice and low key. But I ened up arriving at a bar the local expatriates called "Dave's Bar" (I have no idea why - the owner isn't Dave, the bartender isn't Dave - in fact, there's no one there named Dave at all). I hook up with this young Canadian Lady and a couple other locals and start talking about finding out what's interesting in the local area.

The Chinese guys, in very poor English start asking us if we like roast meat. Barbeque. Cooked meat - confused we say yeah and they tell us they know the best place for roast meat, so offwe go is a rickety taxi whipping through squalid suburbs at breakneck speeds, till we all pile out at the mouth of a dingy alley. I was sure we were going to be kidnapped or killed. But sure enough, the alley smelled of roasting meat!

Going down the alley was like a bit out of a movie - stepping over chicken crates and bags of garbage, there was even some dogs barking in the distance and laundry hanging over head. In the far end was a little turkish place where the swarthy crew out front were roasting skewers of goat - we indulged, then they broke out the packballs - fist-sized balls of hash as if it were nothing.

They all started eyeing us up as they brought out the water pipes and divying up the stuff...

Long story short, my yound lady friend and I quickly left and had to walk for a good hour before we found a road with enough traffic to pick up a taxi.

Talk about warm welcomes

[bigjim]

My dodgiest story! Mmmmm!
Whilst in Canada (Vancouver) i was sitting by the water ffront minding my own business having a smoke, when a local woman druunk came up to me and wanted to 'bum a smoke". I don't think she had heard about peoples personal spaces and she was practically sitting on my lap and trying to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. After about 5 minutes of this i was spotted by a local policeman and he approached me to see if i was o.k. At this point my new "friend" told him that i was trying too sell her drugs. WHAT!!! I coildn't believe it, next minute i was escorted to the nearest station and then asked to empty my pockets. After seeing no evidence of drugs i was then taken back outside and while the oofficer kept an eye on me, his partner scoured the area for my illegal packages. this seach went on for about 1 hour, with me wondering where i would be sspending the evening??? I've learnt my lesson, next time a firm but polite NO will be said.

[Guest_eddakath]

IT'S LONG BUT WORTH THE READ!

My most horrible experience was on board the Trans Siberian!

I was befriended by two rather large & burley Russian soldiers on their way to the Chechnyian (I’m unsure how to spell it) War! Not far from Irkutsh hundreds of Russian soldiers bordered the train. It was an amazing sight, one I’m sure I remember for along time. Infact, what was to happen over the next 12 or so hours is something I’ll never forget. They did everything from light my smokes to paying for my beer and food for me.

Then came the other Russian!

Soon we had a fourth person in our cabin, another Russian, not a soldier and who for some reason didn’t like me. He just didn’t like me at all. Why, well, one of the world’s oldest reasons not to like someone...religion! I didn't have a cross on me so he took an instant dislike to me. This only got worse as time went by. I couldn’t understand anything he said about me as they all had no English and I no Russian. Throughout the day when we were in the same cabin he would sit and glare at me. He would then yell something and walk out of the cabin. The two soldiers who followed me everywhere would just pat me on the shoulder and say OK.

Around 6pm or so he said began yelling something and then began screaming in my face. He then spat in my face and stormed out of the cabin. The soldiers once again pat me on the shoulder and said OK. This time he was followed firstly by the largest soldier and soon after the second soldier. I heard screaming from the end of the corridor and glass breaking. The man soon returned covered in blood and a two huge bloody eyes. His face was ripped open as was his scalp. Maybe they also had Religious differences! I couldn't believe what had happened. He was kneeling before me with his hands together saying something to me. I kept saying its ok and tried to wipe some of the blood from his face. There was glass sticking out of his face and when I pulled it out more blood would cover him. He kept putting his hands to his face and head then looking at his bloody hands. He soon fell forward and passed out on the floor. I shook his shoulder and woke him and tried to give him water. My hands were shaking through fear and shock; I could see his cheek bones and skull.

Soon the Russian Military Police and a doctor boarded the train to ask questions and take the man from the train. I finally got to go for a walk and found two thick double paned windows smashed with blood everywhere in the smoking area between the carriages. Needless to say, I felt horrible and very very sick! One military policeman found me and in his best broken English told me they had taken the man from the train. I still had no idea what was going on and why it all happened, but for now it had ended...for now!

Throughout the day and into the night we moved from cabin to cabin drinking beer and vodka. In friendship I was given the big burley Russian Soldiers 'Dog Tags' (to remember him by. Just in case I guess! Well, they were going to war after all). I was well looked after but was still pretty shaken. The alcohol numbed my senses and soon the warm comfort took over and I forgot what had happened.

The soldiers onboard the Trans Siberian were ‘unarmed’. What this really meant was they didn’t have machine guns. What they did have was everything else. Broadswords, pistols, rifles, knives and other assorted goodies. So as you drunkenly walked down the corridor they would drunkenly jump out at you and hold a pistol to your temple or a sword to your throat and giggle their arse off. They did this not too me, they were also doing it to each other. For some reason this gave me comfort. As you stood there with a huge sword at your throat your first thoughts were, this guy is really drunk, if he even trips a little this blade will go through my windpipe. Then thoughts of one of his drunken buddies jumping on him from behind would enter my head and then thoughts about where my head end up once it left my body. I tried on several occasions to go back to the safety of my room and sleep but minutes later it was filled with soldiers carrying me back to which ever cabin was the loudest and smokiest at the time.

Later, I'm unsure how long it was, the train was stopped and the Russian Military Police once again boarded. They found and entered the party cabin; hand cuffed my two cabin mates and escorted them from the train. I never actually found out what happened to the ‘victim’, but one has to wonder, for them to stop the train and escort them off handcuffed, one wonders if the fellow died due to his injuries. I mean these guys were going to war for godsake!

I awoke the next morning to find myself in my own cabin. It had been cleaned and even had a fresh kind of smell about it. I have no idea how they cleaned such a mess without me waking. Infact, I don’t even remember how I got back to my own bed. I was soon joined by a rather cute Russian News Journalist who asked me about what happened the previous night. I didn’t say much more than I was too drunk to remember much at all. She seemed a bit taken back but accepted my answer. We then spent two beautiful days and beautiful nights playing chess, reading and chatting over beer her newspaper paid for. The entire time though, in the back of my mind I was worrying about leaving the train and who would be there waiting for me. Revenge can be sweet!

Finally Moscow arrived and after gathering my things and say a sad good by to the train staff I left the Trans Siberian. Worried, yeah I was worried. Thoughts of what if he is dead and his family and friends blame me etc were going through my mind. I watched everybody around me as I made my way through the underground. I found some stairs and climbed them into the sunlight. ……WHAT THE! I quickly ran back down stairs. Bottles were being thrown at me by a bunch of drunken guys sitting on seats across from the exit. They were smashing on the steps above me. After what had happened on the train I was pretty worried as to who was throwing the bottles. I quickly returned to the underground and found another exit. I had no idea where I was but when I turned around the majestic sight of St Basils was before me. I knew the hotel I had booked was on the other side of St Basils so I almost ran past it not giving it the time it deserved.

Now for the grand finale of things that always happen in threes! So far it was the train situation, then the bottles. I was pretty worried by now and thought maybe I would hide in my room for a few days. I arrived at the Rosia Hotel and gave them my passport. The lady entered the details into the computer and then stopped. She looked at me and said ‘YOU MUST GO DIRECTLY TO THE POLICE! AT ONCE GO!’ What The…almost came out of my mouth. Why I continued to ask. She just gave me a piece of paper in Russian and almost pushed me out the door. By now fear had set in. My god, the ‘victim’ was dead and they are going to blame me. What do I do!

I found the police station and gave them my name and passport. The officer entered my details into the computer and then stopped and looked at me just as the lady at the hotel had. Without saying a word, he stood and grabbed my arm and began to lead me to the cell in the corner. He got his keys out and motioned his hand towards the lock. By now I was about to wet myself. No one had any idea what had happed or where I was. I was going to be locked up in Russia and never allowed to leave. I was pretty much shaking! He then began to laugh and in English said ‘You no show passport in three days being Russia’. F*%$! I almost had heart failure there on the spot.

The bottles I found out later were pretty much normal this time of year for anyone whom leaves the underground with a backpack on in the beer garden that Red Square becomes in summer. I also found out that Russian Visas are always stapled into your passport the wrong way so you have no idea that you have to show your passport within a time limit. So, I ever so happily paid my fine of 20 rubles or what ever it was and then hurried back to the safety of my room where I sat and emptied the fridge of beer and spirit bottles.

[eddakath]

IT'S LONG BUT WORTH THE READ!

                My most horrible experience was on board the Trans Siberian!
 
 

I forgot to log in...www.travelpod.com/members/eddakath

[Guest_Heather_*]

I guess we have just been really lucky in a weird way in the past year...

We were in Thailand when the Tsunami hit.

A bomb went off in Bali on the day we left.

Bombs went off in England 2 weeks after we left.

The same plane we took in Cyprus crashed a week or so after we left.

A bomb went off in Egypt on the day we left.. IN the airport.

Then we finally decided to settle in Honduras, and experienced an eartquake and Hurricane Wilma while here.

So... I guess we have been real lucky so far!
Who KNOWS what is next for us?

[jenipa]

I guess we have just been really lucky in a weird way in the past year...

We were in Thailand when the Tsunami hit.

A bomb went off in Bali on the day we left.

Bombs went off in England 2 weeks after we left.

The same plane we took in Cyprus crashed a week or so after we left.

A bomb went off in Egypt on the day we left.. IN the airport.

Then we finally decided to settle in Honduras, and experienced an eartquake and Hurricane Wilma while here.

So... I guess we have been real lucky so far!
Who KNOWS what is next for us?

Where are you now and where are you going next...
Just so we're prepared!!!

Forgot to add though...

Glad you are ok.

xx

[beardsley]

I just finished #13's post and I just have to say, that sounds like complete horse-puckey. Broadswords? I have been on the Trans-Sib twice, and you are a nutter if you think that this is going to happen there. On the OP I have to admit that my worst is a bit more mundane, I woke up in fruit vendors porch covered with wasps, mild mannered, friendly wasps, crawling all over my face, but it was a bit off-putting. That having been said, 13 just doesn't pass the 'this is legit' standard.

[kris]

ok.. i think it was my second day in cuba.. i was walking around old havana, i was there to meet an old school friend but emailing to meet up can be pretty slow..
so i'm on my own and a jintero (local who wants to scam money off tourists) comes up to me.. after a little bit of talking we agree to go to a bar for an ice cold beer...

..old havana basically looks like a demolition site, so i was walking down numerous sidestreets just following the lead of this young cuban guy.. we turn down this road with a pile of rubble right in the middle (normal).. so we have to walk round it.. now he is going round in his sandals standing in sewage (normal) which is coming down the side of the street.. his toes are getting quite wet and me thinking sod that, i'm not gonna get crap all over my toes starts to navigate over the rubble...

.. *CRASH* ..a massive iron girder falls directly in front of me.. i could feel the air pressure as it went past.. i'm frozen to the spot, i look up and see some cuban 'builders' on the top of this three story building shouting swear words in spanish at me.. all the locals were looking at me like 'idiot!'..

so my jintero grabbed me by the wrists to get me off this ever increasing pile of rubble and we go to have one of the nicest beers i've ever had.. i think the jintero didn't go for a scam that day as he felt sorry for me..

[lraleigh]

The dodgiest travel story I know happened over ten years ago in Africa. A friend was camping in the East African plains when they awoke to lions surrounding their tent. She and the guide, barely peering out from the tent to scout the scene picked a tree in the distance: "lions don't climb trees, right?"

So she made a break for the tree. The guide followed right behind and had soon overtaken her--the slowest runner is the first to be eaten. They climbed the tree just in time to watch the tent get destroyed by the lions.

As the adrenaline died down, however, they found themselves stuck in an acacia tree, with large thorns impaling them.

After hours of being stuck in the acacia tree, the lions finally left.

[zzz_Washingtonian3]

We arrived at the Pudong International Airport in Shanghai in plenty of time to catch our late night flight to Sanya, the resort city at the southernmost tip of Hainan Island. I am from the U.S. and my traveling companion Merry, is from Shanghai.

The check-in was clumsy and bothersome, as usual. When I checked the readerboard and found that our flight was on time, we proceeded to the waiting area to relax. About a half-hour later I noticed that our flight status had changed to "delayed." This was the beginning of a very eventful night.

I asked Merry to check with the brawny flight representative what the problem was. She told me "don't worry," it is just a little late. For about a half hour I waited nervously, but still no plane. Suddenly, a big argument broke out between a loud, wiry
fellow with hair falling in his eyes and the brawny airline representative. I couldn't understand a word, but the verbal battle was ringing throughout the waiting area.

The wiry guy was really spitting fire, but finally broke off to cool down with his family. He threw his hands in the air and yelled to no one in particular. Merry told me that our plane had not even left Tokyo, meaning we had to wait more than two more hours. Meanwhile, as if to placate the unruly crowd, the airline passed out blankets and lukewarm meal trays.

Faced with a long wait, I tried to get a little shut eye. After a couple of hours, a muffled cheer went up from our crowd of passengers. "What happened,?" I asked. "Our plane has landed, but we are going on strike," Merry answered. "We are not getting on board." I was dumbfounded.

The loadspeaker announced that our plane was now boarding, but no one moved. The second notice was announced, but no one got up. I was getting pretty nervous, but Merry acted like this was a typical passenger revolt.

More negotions. More yelling. Suddently, a loud cheer broke out and all the restive passengers gathered their belongings and moved briskly to the boarding gate. "What's going on," I inquired. "We won the strike," Merry answered joyfully. "So, what does that mean?," I asked. Merry looked at me with a puzzled smile and responded, "it means we get compensation."

As we found our seats and settled in, the big flight representative, looking disheveled and defeated, pulled out a huge wad of 100 yuan bills and counted out three of them for every adult passenger. It wasn't a lot of money, but it sure felt good to win the strike and finally be on our way.

[eddakath]

I just finished #13's post and I just have to say, that sounds like complete horse-puckey. Broadswords? I have been on the Trans-Sib twice, and you are a nutter if you think that this is going to happen there. On the OP I have to admit that my worst is a bit more mundane, I woke up in fruit vendors porch covered with wasps, mild mannered, friendly wasps, crawling all over my face, but it was a bit off-putting. That having been said, 13 just doesn't pass the 'this is legit' standard.

__________________________________________
hello mark, this is Eddakath..yes #13..until you have actually travelled accross Russia with a train full of russian soldiers going to war I would rather you didn't pass comment on what is 'ligit' or not. and as for passing your 'ligit' standard, maybe you should also wait until something other than a wasp is in your face. Sometimes my friend, people experience 'things' that maybe don't pass your standard of REAL. Funny thing is where i live and go out to see bands in Melbourne Australia the Lonely Planet guide suggests NOT to go afterdark due to 'safety' reasons. I've never seen or been part of anything to fear there. When I'm home I'm out seeing bands and at not to nice places every weekend. You've been on the Trans Siberian twice you say. Did you go during war? Obviously NOT.

It's also not up to me to question the LP's guide to safety. I've never been harrassed, mugged or beaten in these areas of Melbourne. BUT, working close with Police for the last 15 years, some of these areas are very unsafe places to be after dark. Even they question my actions sometimes.

I wish you a safe journey on your next journey on board the Trans Siberian. But yes, broadswords and everything in my entry was real and the fear factor was very high. I'm unsure how your travel, be it tours etc but please, take note of what your fellow travellers, friends and govt say. Mine emailed me and told me NOT to board the train. I chose not to listen. Large knives and alcohol do not mix in any way shape or form. Would I do it again given the same info...NO. Would I board the Trans Siberian and head accross Russia again. You bet ya I would mate.
A million 'LIGIT' happenings and vodkas full of smiles to ya buddy...eddakath

[Caro!]

LEt's talk about a bad experience while visiting Amsterdam. I tried to take pictures in the red light distric, stupid decision, I know. So I got in a fight with the pimps and they almost kick my ASS, but the police saved me. So please be smart while traveling. Although I knew it is prohibited to take pics of the "ladies" I tried to be smart, but it was not worth it! I was really scared and my night was ruined.