It's morning in Belgrade and I stepped off a train almost three hours ago. The hostel manager picked me up at the station (free service!) and brought me to my home for a day, basically an apartment that has a bedroom loaded with bunk beds. Even if I weren't the only one staying here tonight, I don't think it would be uncomfortably crowded at all. I've showered and put my clothes in the wash so I'll type until I need to hang them up, after which I'll get out of here and explore this city (birthplace of one Novak Djokovic).

Yesterday, the train stopped for nine hours in Sofia, Bulgaria. I spent the afternoon on a self-guided walking tour with a Brazilian (who looks like a Russian hockey player), an Australian, and an older Swedish gentleman, all of whom I met on or en route to the train. We got a little lost at times, at one point needing to ask a large congregation of smoking teenaged girls, a businessman just returned from work, a man in a tweed jacket, and then a very kind woman for directions to a cathedral. The latter ultimately walked us to our destination and told us that she was defending her doctoral thesis the next day and was just out for a long walk to relax.

As regards Istanbul, I suppose I can say a little more about it now. I arrived in the afternoon and took public transit to my hostel, walking past the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia on my way. I had intended to save the Hagia Sophia for last, actually, to see it with Chris, but I could not keep myself away and the line was very short. This might be the point at which I'd advise anyone going to Istanbul that you really should try to leave this site for your last. It sets too high a standard for sightseeing in general. If I weren't meeting Alyssa in Vienna, I might just go home now.

On the second day, we really packed in as much as we could. We visited Topkapi Palace. Incidentally, Chris had a bit of a surprise for me when he arrived: he'd learned Turkish, well enough to pass as a local as long as he didn't talk too much. As a game, he decided to see if he could get us into Topkapi as Turkish nationals who had lost our museum cards as a result of our wallets being stolen. The combination of his seeming a little daft and my submissive silence somehow worked and we were waved through security without paying a cent. I still wanted some sort of souvenir, so I just grabbed one of the random tickets lying on the counter - no one needs it after entry.

We went to the Grand Bazaar next and totally won the haggling game. I've had a lot of practice, after many summers with my grandmother in China, and Chris had the local language. Our attack was in two steps. First, I would go and bring the price for whatever was being sold down to half. I would be reaching for my money when Chris would swoop in and demand to know how much money I was wasting on said object. In disgust, he would tell the vendor in Turkish that he would never allow me to spend that kind of money on anything. Then he would pay whatever price the vendor told him would be acceptable - usually a third less. I got the scarf I wanted for about 6 Turkish Lira, down from 30.

I've become a total pro at wrapping that scarf around my head and shoulders. At final count, we saw five mosques, all of which are lined with lovely blue and white tiles of various designs, have an oddly familiar smell of something floral and feet, and are tremendously cool within. This last was pretty important in hot, humid Istanbul. We actually went to the Blue Mosque twice because it was so comfortable to sit inside.

Train travel from Istanbul has been eventful. As previously mentioned, I met three men, with whom I toured Sofia. In my cabin were two Polish girls returning to Warsaw from Istanbul. Marta and Magdalena spoke enough English to communicate to me that they would sleep in the bunks opposite me, they would close the window after smoking, and that they would drink a lot of beer before going to sleep. I loved them immediately. We were invited by two very tall, handsome men to play cards with them, which we did until 3 a.m. waiting for the border because no one wanted to be woken up to go through immigration. Unfortunately, crossing the Turkish-Bulgarian border is apparently a long process because after leaving Turkey, I went to sleep only to be periodically woken up for passport, ticket, and visa checks until 6:30. At least they stamped in both countries.

On the second leg, from Sofia to Belgrade, Marta informed me that she and Magda had boarded the train without tickets. The conductor seemed willing to allow this for 20 euros but then told them to move their luggage to his cabin. Then, it would seem things went poorly because Marta returned to tell me that they were buying tickets because the conductor was "a disgusting man." I didn't see either girl (both are at least four years older than I am but look 19) until disembarking this morning. At the border, my Brazilian walking friend, Lucas, was deported back to Sofia because he didn't have a visa to enter Serbia. It wasn't entirely distressing because we knew he'd be fine - hostels in Sofia are cheap and he knew how to get to one of them very easily - but I felt uneasy because I hadn't ever checked if I needed a visa for Serbia either. It could just as easily have been me getting booted from the train. However, my passport was returned to me, so I locked my cabin, of which I was suddenly the sole inhabitant, drew all the curtains, and slept until we arrived in Belgrade.

It's now 10:30 a.m. I'm going to get dressed, get some local currency, and then explore a bit. Also, Alyssa flies to London tomorrow, so there may soon be posts written by someone other than me.