enter the zone

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You jump on one of this bus lines that cross Europe and end up in Moscow or St.Petersburg. The travelers are a middle aged couple, some very black and very blond colored Russian speaking ladies on high heels, some older ladies who don't care anymore about their appearance, two young guys, tough and broad shouldered, tattoos on their arms, watching videos or tracking their mobiles, later sitting with open mouth as some forgotten dentist clients in the hopping bus chairs. The ride from Tallinn to Narva, the boarder town far northeast, crosses endless woods and fields. Accurate farming, European standards, with flocks of dark shaped cows on fat green canvas. Exactly at 12.12 your bus stops in a rainy red bricked town and you look through a close-meshed fence on the chrome steel water of Narva river. The bus driver gives instructions and reminds you to follow always the green line if you have nothing to declare. And you have better nothing to declare, if you want to be in time at your destination. All passengers get out of the bus and line up in front of two desks inside a tall functional building made for entering the zone. Nobody had anything to declare, the customs officer was a friendly young lady who does some corrections in your migration form and reminds you before handing over your migration card, not to leave the zone any minute later as your permission is valid. 

Under constant rain the bus jumps on the trail again heading to st.petersburg.