William Reardon’s Blog

Leaving Budapest, we took an overnight 14-hour train ride to Bucharest, the capital of Romania. Dan got us a private 2-person car, which ended up being a really good call. I was really worried about this part of the trip – I could see it being an utter fiasco, especially after the experience on the trip from Vienna to Budapest. I could see getting our luggage stolen, uncomfortable seats, etc. but all that concern for naught. It was a decent sized room, maybe the size of a small dorm room.

About two hours into the trip, somewhere after midnight, we were officially in Romania. The train stops at the first station for customs agents to come on board & do an inspection. Going room to room, he arrives at ours, enters, says something in Romanian, which only Dan understands. He says a few more things and points to a couple of bags overhead, which Dan pulls down for him. There’s an additional bay with our bags over above the door, so not wanting it to look like we’re hiding anything, I start pulling bags down from there for him. He stares at me suspiciously while I do so, and then, when I’m done, looks at me with a stone scowl on his face. Not sure what to make of it, I look at Dan who’s glaring at me.

Not sure what I did wrong, I watch from the top bunk as he starts to go through our bags. He finds some Kellog’s breakfast bars in mine. A concerned/confused look on his face, he holds it closely to his face as he slowly turns it around, sniffs it. He says something curt to Dan, at which point I’m having visions of Midnight Express in my head. While wondering how for how long I’ll have to pimp Dan out in a Romanian prison in order to get enough money for a bribe, Dan says a one word answer back to the customs agent. He puts the breakfast bar back into my bag, digs deeper, and pulls out some chocolates I had bought in Vienna.

He seems surprised by this as well, holds it to his face and starts to examine it very closely. Thinking he doesn’t know what it is, I look at him and say, loudly and slowly, “Chocolate”, making a gesture of one taking & eating a piece of chocolate. Staying completely silent, he looks at me for what felt like an eternity, then puts the box back in my bag. Confused again, I look at Dan, who’s glaring at me again. What the fuck?

The inspector asks some more questions, apparently about who we are and why we’re visiting. He finds two bottles of alcohol in Dan’s bag, a problem since you’re only allowed one. Dan takes one out puts it in my bag, saying we’re each bringing in one. Seems good enough for the agent, and without a word, he leaves the room.

Door shut, I ask Dan what I did wrong. “Ssshh…” he says, “just wait for the train to start moving again.”

15 minutes or so latter, train underway, I ask Dan again.

Bill: What was wrong will pulling the bags over the door? He wanted them.
Dan: No, he only wanted the ones he pointed at.
Bill: I figured if he saw the others he might think we were hiding them.
Dan: It’s the opposite. People who are smuggling things try to be friendly by offering the bags they want the inspectors to look at. Like, “Here, here. Check out this bag” in hopes they don’t look at the others.
Bill: Ahh… so what was the deal with chocolate?
Dan: You were acting like he was moron, you dumbass. The thing has chocolate written on it in fucking 14 different languages and here you are saying “chocolate”, like he wouldn’t know because he’s not as smart as Americans. He knew what it was; he was making sure it wasn’t drugs.
Bill: Ahhh…
Dan: Yeah… ‘night Bill.
Bill: ‘night Dan