Where's Hercule Poirot?

Hercule Poirot left Bagdá to answer a urgent case in London. A group of young ran to Lviv Railway Station to take a train to Kiev. These stories – one involving a murderer and another a social project – have a charm because of the transportation, a train.
The cars described in the lines of “A Murder on the Orient Express” are fancy, but the feeling to sleep in a train was the same for the AIESEC’s interns. I was there. Little snowflakes were crossing my lazy steps. I couldn’t imagine that one day in my life I would be in a long street in Ukraine, at 2 am, walking with four Brazilians, two Mexicans and one Ukrainian. We entered excited and were divided in our chairs – more than this: beds.
The hinges with old aspect, red leather of the mattress and white sheets with blue lines helped to remember that trip like the same described in Agatha Christie’s book. If we hadn’t had the constant sound of the rails, we had imagined that we were in Titanic. Where’s Leonardo DiCaprio?
The fearful could even tell that the courtains and the dark aisles without passengers indicated that a murder would happen in a few hours. Fortunately, this part of my imagination stayed only in the book.
The trip was calm. Everybody slept and all were awakened for a old woman screaming in Ukrainian: “Half hour to arrive in Kiev!”. That scream might have woken up my parents in Brazil, probably. Before we left the train, we had had our coffee served in a cup with the Ukraine flag and metallic support. That remembered me all the old books that I’ve read in all my life.
After I had left the train, just magic days in Kiev. A historical city, a center of the recent changes in Ukraine and the most curious: a lot of Ukrainian people that prefers to speak Russian. Anyway, this mix of different cultures and the travelling by train give a eternal sensation that I miss everyday: It’s so hard to feeling of fiction and reality at the same time and these moments will stay forever in my memories.