Natasha and Iryna and I have a beautiful big room.

Robert and Bruce share a small room they call a "cell."
Our train ride to the penninsula on the Black Sea called the Crimea, is much different than our last. We board at night, and people are already asleep. There are no sleeping cabins, just open cots. It is hot and people are half covered with no privacy. The single bathroom is, well, not so clean. The train slows down and stops along the way. The curtains flap, at least letting me know air is indeed moving through the window. We manage to sleep, and arrive early in the morning at our destination, where friends of Iryna are there to greet us and take us to the place we will rent.