Yaroslavsky Station
Před čtením
Před čtením
Yaroslavsky Station in Moscow looked, from the air, like a cake decorated by an enthusiast. Green and white turrets. Pointed roofs. Gold trim where you might not expect it. The architect, Fyodor Shekhtel, had designed it in 1902 in a style called Russian Revival, which mostly meant looking like an old Russian wooden church but built of stone and three times the size.
Polly came in low through the city haze. Moscow in June was warm and bright, the long evenings of a northern summer just beginning. She circled the station once and landed on the iron canopy over the main entrance.
The Trans-Siberian Railway begins here. It runs east for 9,289 kilometres, the length of the entire Eurasian landmass, ending at Vladivostok on the Pacific. The line was completed in 1916. It is still the longest railway line in the world. The flagship train, the Rossiya, leaves Yaroslavsky Station every other day at one in the afternoon. It arrives in Vladivostok seven days, seven time zones, and one continent later.
Polly had a window seat. Or, more precisely, she had been promised a window berth in second class compartment 7, by a conductor who had taken one look at her glasses and her clipboard and decided, sensibly, that this was not his problem.
Her compartment was a small wood-panelled room with two upper and two lower bunks, a small folding table between them, and a heavy curtained window. Two of the bunks were already taken. One belonged to a quiet, retired woman in a beige cardigan, reading. The other belonged to a young man in his twenties with a beard and a laptop, who looked up, saw Polly, said "OK," and went back to typing.
Polly hopped onto the table and looked out the window. The platform was full of motion. A family was hugging a son goodbye. A conductor was checking a clipboard in green ink. A samovar in the corner of the carriage hissed quietly.
At exactly one o'clock, the train moved.
It did not feel like a beginning. It felt like the conclusion of something that had been arranging itself for many years. The wheels found their rhythm in the first two minutes and held it. The platform slid away. The station became a shape against the sky. Then it was gone.
Within half an hour, Moscow had thinned to suburbs. Within an hour, the suburbs had thinned to dachas, small wooden summer houses with neat gardens. Within two hours, the dachas had thinned to forest. Polly looked at her glasses in the reflection of the window and tilted them straight against her beak.
The quiet woman in the beige cardigan looked up from her book. "First time?" she said in careful English. Polly tilted her red head. The woman smiled. "It is a long way. Settle in."
To je celý příběh.
Právě jste slyšeli Polly
Chcete slyšet, jak zníte VY?
Přečtěte nahlas jeden řádek příběhu. Vaše nahrávka zůstane ve vašem zařízení a nikdy se nenahrává na server.
Není to špatné, že? V aplikaci PollyStop přesně tohle Polly poslouchá a hned vás ohodnotí.
Koučování, uložená slovíčka, opakování v odstupech a každý den nový příběh.
Získat PollyStop zdarmaVáš AI lektor
Teď to řekněte nahlas. Popovídejte si o tomto příběhu s Polly.
Polly je hlasová lektorka aplikace PollyStop. Povídá si s vámi nahlas o příbězích, jako je tento.
Získejte PollyStop zdarma.
- Každý den nový příběh podle úrovně, se zvukem.
- Ukládejte si slovíčka, na která narazíte, a procvičujte je později.
- Procvičování mluvení se zpětnou vazbou.
- Polly, hlasová lektorka, se otevírá dalším studentům.
Pokračujte na úrovni: C1
Další příběhy
Přečtěte si tento příběh v jiném jazyce.
Stejný příběh, jiný jazyk. Porovnejte stavbu a rytmus, aniž byste ztratili nit.
Učte se dál s PollyStop
Poslouchejte, ukládejte slovíčka, procvičujte