We've made it as far as Ulan Bator and the trip has been pretty interesting so far. Although I could write for hours (when was the last time an Internet cafe charged $3.00 per hour) I'll give you a brief synopsis of the days and tell you about any interesting observations (well at least interestingly me) I've found along the the way.
Day 2 - Moscow to Nizhny Novgorod: Spend day schelping around Moscow avoiding the rain and furry hat sellers, then had last grand dinner (caviar...mmmnnnnnnn) and set off for train. Wait in one station and then tour guide takes us around the back to get on Train 2 - Moscow to Irkutsk. It's dark and cold and but we have a nice 'provanitska' (train attendant) and follow rule number one in our bible - the TranSib guide and tip her well.
The train is very new and clean, and by British standards...tall! There's not much room between the beds on either side (about a metre if that), but at least we're not sharing with anyone.
With a big clatter and sudden lurch we're off!
There is a Tyanet (vague attempt at spelling the Russian word for toilet) at each end...and after a few thwarted attempts, the kindly Russian lady at the cabin at the end points out that the red light goes on in the corridor when someone's in there or it's locked cos we're stopping at a station...duhhhhh -how many planes have you really been on Hazel!
The toilet is about as cold and smelly as you would imagine a railway toilet that does not have a holding tank to be...but at least the paper does not run out until day 4.
- The benefits of sitting on a toilet that is not moving are not to be disregarded lightly
Day 3 - Vyatka to Yekaterinburg: gaze at scenery, start eating contents of coolie bag, Hazel has a cold and the train is kept really hot, with no windows to open, M learns to point for food.
It's clear and bright and there is lots of snow around. People look cold when we pass them, and most favor the black coat and high furry hat look, quite sensible too.
We master the use of the water boiler down the end and get stuck into the soup. M makes several successful forays out onto the station and brings back salami (venison and almost as good as Paul's home made variety), diet coke, cough lozenges, cheese and a yummy bread. People sell very interesting stuff at the smaller stations, wizened little grandmothers with what looks like beetroot or cabbage in sourcream in little tubs, fish on a stick, newspapers and Russian romance novels. Each area we pass through seems to have a different specialty...we never did find the really great gingerbread we bought one one station...though we manfully sampled several other types of cake along the way.
- the window is the coldest place in the train and ties for the curtain make an excellent cheese holder
- fur is worn guilt free in Russia, and women have the amazing ability to walk on slippery ice with the skinniest stiletto boots
Day 4 - Tyumen to Bogotol: Hazel coughs a lot, M almost gets left behind, more soup gets eaten and we see some interesting factories.
Although I'm getting very used to lying around, eating, reading and gazing out the window inbetween coughing and blowing my nose, I make the effort to go out onto one of the stations to purchase some provisions, including orange to drink with our vodka (not quite up to the neat stuff yet). I manage to bring back two lots of yoghurt instead(well it did have fruit on the front and come in a carton), but rather than make a new and possibly quite interesting cocktail, we eat it as desert..though meal separation has become somewhat neglected in favor of grazing anytime we're bored. M discovers a new breakfast alternative and eats large plain cookies covered with peanut butter, whilst I plump for the ever popular marmite and cheese.
The countryside has hills and water and trees and we're still laughing at the fact that it looks like Wisconsin woods, given that we've spent all this money and time to get here...I think this could be more of a novelty to me than M. The silver birch and pine seem especially gloomy in the twilight, but we haven't gone through as much forest as flat plains and small hills, with lots of clumps of Dacha everywhere. Sergei (the Moscow guide) explained that this is what every Russian wants, a small place (and some of them are very small - no bigger than garden sheds) with a patch of land for gardening around. They are not quite allotments as the garden only forms part of the land, more like the back garden to a house...with the front being an apartment somewhere else in another town or city. Not very many are in use, as you can't do much digging this time of year, but they must be nice little communities, with the dacha being passed down between family member. They seem quite lonely, here next to the tracks waiting for spring.
- climbing UNDER a stationary train to get to the platform to sell stuff is quite safe as long as you are over 60 and short, it's just a little scary to watch
- never say the words chicken and soup too far apart in a sentence or you'll end up with the soup and the roast chicken...both very tasty, but not conducive to fitting back through the skinny doors between the carriages on the walk back to the cabin.
Day 5 - aching 1 to Irkutsk: cold reduced to coughing and less frequent nose blowing, Siberia gets progressively cold and more beautiful, M beats Hazel at scrabble again and we prepare to leave the train.
The towns have been less frequent and the tiny villages more so, with the odd huge messy city (Omsk etc), full of looming factories (well the train was never going to go thorough the nice part of town was it!) and peeling apartment blocks. There are less old ladies and a few more Mongolian and Chinese (I can just about tell the difference) selling things on the platform. Most stuff is sold out of little stores and Coke fridges (I bet Coke doesn't know their brand covers smoked fish and cigarettes - yes folks, I think you keep the cigarettes warm in fridges in Siberia). We're glad to be getting off the train and dying to stretch our legs.
- remember when you learnt to use the abacus as school? some of the storekeepers still use an abacus to work out the total, then type it into a calculator for us to understand. There's something ironic about someone using an abacus to calcuate something for someone with a wireless PDA in his pocket....more so when you consider the blackberry doesn't get a signal to transmit!
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