Expect the cup of yoghurt that I bought a day before (unbelievably) I managed not to add to the list that includes items I forget to pack after leaving hostels (Amsterdam - Mr. Nice book, Helsinki - metal mug). Eventhough I was quite low on social energy in the past days I tried to be friendly to everyone I met. And I had the foreigner card, and being a giant... people kinda remembered me and my leaving was a thing to the hostel. At least for the first time...

I caught the bus that would have been taken to a few subway stops from the train station, but my plan was taking it only to Aviamotornaya as I was way more comfortable with the subway than with the ground transportation.

Although I didn't lose anything to my room or locker, I left my food beg at the reception... Went back for one more time (with significantly lesser impact) and took the footbus(walk) to Aviamotornaya. Yellow line to Marksistkaya and from there the brown one to Komsomolskaya. Easy! It was all signed to the train station(s). There were two(at least I am not sure about it). One's name really reminded me to Lenin and the one what I was looking for, the Yaroslavsky.

I haven't checked my weight since my flatmate moved back to Hungary and took the scale but if I had to guess it, I'd say that I was under my racing weight. The idea was a bit too late to eat as much as I can and store the energy in fat for the trip, but I ordered a pizza and a Kebab.

Ordering one stuff with Google translate is a thing, but thanks to the glitches in the matrix ordering two things are exponentially more complicated. The cashier quickly got frustrated, the lady in the queue behind me was also impatient, and the guy who was making the foods also turn towards the situation. The air was glowing.

An other girl got into the shop, she interrupted the whole wild west vibe.

She was ginger, slim, already a bit taller than the average, but her shoes also had at least 5" soles(Seriously don't know why I pay so much attention to women's shoes on this travel), was very generous with the black eyeliner to her eyes and looked like she was dressing only from thos hippie souvenir shops. Seemly she wasn't too attached the our world. I had the feeling that her presence was even more unusual than mine as I tried to order with Google translate.

Everyone calmed down they get their hands away from the guns, took my money and served the next customer. When the girl's turn came she ordered probably the most customized kebab that I've ever witnessed. She kept talking to the guy who made it and pointed at ingredients signing with her hands how much she wants making jingling sounds with her bracelets with every movement she made. She even made a taichi style movement showing how and how much sauces she'd like to have.

For the time she ordered I already finished my kebab. It was time to find the train station. I still wasn't sure which one is mine. After a bit if hesitation I asked the only one person around who I didn't have any "bad" experience with. I typed in Google translate "just for the record, is it the Yaroslavsky station?" Shown it to the girl with the jingling bracelets and pointed at the building 10 meters away, front of the restaurant. She read my phone thoroughly, while had a big bite of her kebab then shown an expression like she shouldn't have bitten it, she just didn't realize that I'm asking something relevant. Few seconds later she started to talk in English:

 -Do you speak English? Yes? I mean yes! You typed in English! Give me a few seconds I collect my friend.

She run out from the restaurant and  went crazy waving at the crowd.

An other girl at the same time didn't see her, so just put her baggages down on the ground and start looking at her phone.

The one from the restaurant was just a few degrees out of her sight, but she decided to go 280° around her and tap her shoulder. They get back to the restaurant and turned towards me:

 - Let me finish my food and I take you to the train station.

She finished the Kebab jumped up:

 - I am ready. You got your stuff? You ready?

I nodded.

She grabbed my arm and run out from the restaurant. We run about literally three meters when we stopped, it was a bit sudden I almost bumped into her:

 - that one over there - she pointed at an other station - is the one with the local or short distance trains. And this one... - she stopped, wrinkled her forehead. - where are you traveling by the way?

 - Vladivostok. - I answered.

 -weeeeeell.... , I think it isn't the short distance one. You will need this one - pointed at the exact same building that I shown her for the first time. What she could just shown from the restaurant as it was the closest man made thing around or just say 'Da' or anything with less effort. In that case I probably wouldn't mention her. I was thankful for the experience.

I got in. Like in every train station in Russia where I have been I had to send my packages through some security scanner and walk through a security frame.

In the station the escalator was... Fucked. I' would like to swear less, but the expression "out of service" wouldn't describe it's condition properly. They'd really be better to get a new one than fixing it. Only a 4 people elevator took us to upstairs where the trains were departing from. People were pushing eachother for the places. I hate intrusion so I decided to go for a walk checking the shops downstairs and come back when the crowd is gone. It actually turned out to be a good decision because in a souvenir shop I could buy a new metal mug. It was smaller than the one I left in Helsinki, but it had some Moscow graphic on the side. I also bought some water and first time in my life I found apple taste Fanta. I really like this about Russia. I think the first place I've ever visited that provided the variety and range of products that I was happy with. It's not just I love shopping that much(I like it a lot) but I don't like to pay for something just because I have no other options. I'd rather go for things I find 100% satisfying. Anyways! It was just a can of Fanta and my satisfactory requirements were just a tiny bit above of having some liquid with sugar.

I felt ready af, but the crowd just grown bigger around the elevator. What I really hate about intrusion is that people are uncomfortably close and sometimes they even touch me. That stuff is not for the strangers sorry. I wasn't gonna be a dick but people were way too cheeky. If I let a few inches of place just for not getting too intimate in a queue some took that place so I had to use my own tricks. I get my thumbs under the straps of my backpack so my elbows were same level as most people's head. Noone wants an elbow in the face, so I had my place and my priority elevator.

I got to the stairs found a sit and some free WiFi, put some music on and experimentally turned tinder on. I'm saying experimentally, because meet someone online really doesn't suit me. But sometimes I just turn the app on when I'm really bored and want to be distracted. To see what given cities females are like. The striking difference between Moscow girls and the girls from England, Hungary or Sweden was that they had significantly fewer group photos. It is mostly interesting, because that is my second most reliable match indicator. The first is individualism. I have never had a match with a girl who had a bio like "❤️food, travel❤️". (There's no problem if someone likes to travel and eat delicious stuff, it just doesn't tell too much about a person and 3 out of 4 has that bio.)

After a few minutes seemly my theory turned out to be proven; I don't know if the Moscow senoritas had something for me or for Google translate, but the same profile that had two matches in a whole day in Stockholm almost made my phone crash because of the amount of notifications.(okay my phone is over it's pride and it is a bit exaggerated, but still) The only difference was what I put in my bio:

"Love doesn't have borders, but I have Google translate just in case." - It is probably just the Google translate... but

the scientific conclusion of the experiment is that Russia is ace. Although I liked the feed back, and how science was working, I quickly got concerned about the devushki(girls) who might hope that their black haired Hungarian/Chinese/Chestrian Google translate knight will text and ride them away on a roadbike's handlebar towards the horizon(when I surely won't), so I turned the heartbreaker application off and tried to download some music. I couldn't find a torrent file for the one I was looking for and the magnet was not working so I run out of ideas what to do with my internet access, I already said goodbye to everyone. So I was about getting lost in my thoughts when the platform number appeared on the time table.

End of chapter 3