Breakfast in dining car - eggs, sausage bits and tomato, coffee. The scene outside my window is magical for one who lives in usually snowless England; untouched snow, birches, firs all in a pinky early light. So, apart from the bad cold, bad hip, appalling loneliness and uncertainty about the next bed in the next town, it's all good.
I thought the provdnista had a lover as she has uniform and there is a plump girl in her cabin in a nightie but , of course, they are sharing the job and one sleeps (in nightie) while the other works (in uniform).
As time goes on - by my calculation it takes 12 hours - people become smiley and want to talk. Diana is six and irrepressible. I am not sure she understands that I don't speak her language as she will come up to me and ask questions and chatter, oblivious to my gibberish replies. She is the nicest little girl and makes friends with most people in our car.