We were shown to our seats by our Hungarian conductor, Joe. I wanted to quickly assess our accomodations situation for our long journey, so I asked Joe if the train to Istanbul was going to be full. To our delight, he answered, "NO", without giving any indication of the number of passengers/neighbors we could expect. Only later did we realize that the Transbalkan Express had pulled away with only 2 passengers - Dana and myself. We made ourselves at home, spreading our belongings all over our cabin and playing one of our many games during our trip of GIN. At about 11pm we converted our sitting room into a honeymoon suite, flipping the seats over and making our beds.

Our trip was uneventful until we reached Bucharest, Romania, some 16 hours after our departure. As our train was being rearranged with several Romanian cars, a local authority came around to check our tickets. In a bit of broken English and a lot of angry Romanian, this gentleman explained to us that our reservation for the sleeper car we had "moved into" was only valid from Budapest to Bucharest. He insisted that we collect our things and follow him to a much less luxurious car with open seating and no provisions for sleeping. Concerned not only for our comfort but also for our safety, I beckoned for Joe to assist in my plea for mercy. It finally became clear that the Romanian authority was asking for us to make an additional payment in order to keep our current cabin. Joe insisted on our behalf that we had made the proper payment in Budapest for our reservation to be valid all the way to Istanbul. The Romanian authority pushed Joe numerous times and spit every time he mentioned "Budapest" during his volatile outburst. Dana and I huddled together in our cabin not only to pray for a positive outcome but also because we were downright afraid of the maniac Romanian. Once the commotion died down, I worked up the nerve to find Joe and ask what had become of our fate. He explained that a bribe of 2 beers was all that was necessary for the Romanian to move on. Disgusted but relieved, Dana and I thanked Joe for his intervention. Little did we know that Joe's good deeds would not end in Bucharest.

We crossed the Bulgarian-Turkish border at about 2am on 6/14. We were awakened several times by many different officials checking our tickets and passports. At 4:30am a man instructed us to exit a train and get our passport stamped. Worried that the train might depart without us, Dana and I ran into the brisk night air and found the Turkish passport authorities. They told us that we needed a visa first, so we ran across the courtyard to get the bureaucratic ball rolling. To our surprise, each visa cost $45 and the only acceptable method of payment was American Dollars - CASH ONLY! We ran back across the courtyard to the passport authorities and explained that we only had traveller's checks. We awakened the supervisor on duty from a drunken stupor only to be instructed to remove our belongings from the train and wait for the local bank to open to obtain US currency. We were then told that the next train to Istanbul from "Butt Fuck", Turkey was 24hours later. Not knowing where to turn next, we ran onto the train and told Joe of our latest dilemma. Very matter-of-factly he reached for a briefcase and pulled out a huge wad of American Dollars. Dana and I could not believe our eyes. We were speechless. Joe spotted us the $90 we needed for our visas, and within 3 minutes we had cut through all of the red-tape and returned to the safety of our cabin. Disappointed in my preparation and research, I quickly turned to the "Visas" section in our Lonely Planet (LP) guide book to see who in fact was to blame - ME or LP. Sure enough, I was the one at fault! Having learned our lesson the hard way, Dana and I laughed ourselves to sleep eternally grateful to Joe.