The middle of nowhere

A dart thrown at the world map predetermines where I meet each New Year. In 2011 the fate dispassionately chose the Motherland of Rubik’s Cube. Visa obtained, route planned, backpack put up, dog bowed out and here I am on the Chop-Záhony train crossing the Hungarian border peacefully enjoying snowflakes attacking the train window to the accompaniment of Budapest audio guide in my headphones. The customs clearance procedure lasted much longer than usually, mainly because Ukrainian babushkas-smugglers scotch taped lots of cigarettes beneath their clothes hoping to get some illegal cash on the New Year’s Eve. As a result, I was late for my train to Budapest with the next one departing the next morning. No hostels in Záhony and railway station building closed for the night.
Cold real-life 8 hours "Ultimate survival" series started. I guess I was the first and only tourist in the 3rd millennium, who decided to enjoy the picturesque landscapes of Záhony. In one hour I was already listening to instrumental hits on the lonely banch trying to disengage myself from freeze, drowsiness and rage. Suddenly something laid down on my shoulder. Frightened to death, I threw the walkman somewhere in the bushes and sprang to my feet with the unnatural scream, but instead of a maniac I noticed a woman with a charming toothless smile in a ragged red coat that could be appropriate in the times of the Renaissance. Mutely she just beckoned to follow her. Like a baby duck I silently obeyed the random woman. We have reached the oldest lonely carriage at the station, and my anxiety level boosted up. We entered the carriage and the stench inside it almost knocked me down. Muttering "Our Father, who art in heaven.." under my breath I was preparing for the worst thing. I discerned a company of three homeless people instead, who welcomed me to have a seat nicely mumbling in Hungarian. The oldest man in the fake Ray-Bans in broken English explained me that they invited me so I did not perish from the frost. Yes, at times the most miserable are the most humane. Next four hours were the most impressive, the warmest and the sincerest I have ever experienced. We made a deal: I shared all the food I had and they shared their lifestories in exchange. Unfortunately, time passed way too fast and here I am in the Zahony-Budapest morning train waving good bye to my new homeless friends who have not only saved my life but surely immortalised theirs.