Rail connections between Veliko Turnovo, Bulgaria and Bucharest, Romania are good, but there is one little problem. Maybe it is not a problem. Maybe it is a wonderful opportunity.

The train was clickity-clacking north from Veliko Turnovo through the Bulgarian countryside toward the Romanian border. The sun was warm and the breeze fresh. Our first-class car was mostly empty except for pair of conductors in a compartment at one end and pair of policemen in a compartment at the other end. We were half asleep. The perfect way to travel. But I thought this was too good to last.

As we approcached the train station in Russe, the last town on the Bulgarian side of the border, Mary gasped, "what are all of those people doing on the platform?". Before the train came to a complete stop several hundred people tried to board our car. They were coming through the windows and running up and down the corridor. The first ones aboard, young guys, were commandering compartments. A couple of guys staked out our compartment without so much as a sideways glance at us. This didn't look or sound good. The guys were followed by women and their "luggage", actually boxes and bales mostly loaded through the windows. Our six seat compartment was rapidly filled with 10 people and 25 boxes. We made it known that we wanted one seat for each of us and space for our feet. They agreed, sort of.

A young guy sitting next to me eventually started to speak in English - which he said he learned exclusively from video tapes of American movies. We began to realize we were watching international "free" trade and entreprenurial spirit in action. Some goods, such as pirated Nike sweat suits, were available for a slightly lower price in Bulgaria. These people were able to earn a modest living by bringing them into Romania.

As we shared some cookies and information our apprehensions subsided. It was a festive atmosphere. The people in our compartment treated each other like family but their hair and skin colors were different. Some looked like Slavs, some Greeks, Arabs, Gypsies. Some brought soda pop to sell to the others. There was a lot of cash being distributed back and forth but no squabbling. They trusted one another. They were uptight when loading the train, relaxed during the ride and then uptight again as we neared Bucharest. We think they were worried about Bulgarian police restricting their activity at the start and Romanian police grabbing them at the end in Bucharest. In fact, somebody pulled the emergency stop cord when we were outside of Bucharest and a bunch of people unloaded their stuff into the fields — I wonder if there were any drugs in those bales? What we saw were obviously consumer goods, appliances, running suits with pirated labels, cellulose sponges, etc.