Irkutsk, Siberia, Russian Federation
October 15, 2013
So the big day finally arrived and to say I was excited is an understatement, boarding the Trans-Siberian line train number 044 to head off across the vast wilderness of Russia. This line eventually splits at Irkutsk with one train heading off to Vladivostok and the other to Ulan-Bator so essentially this is the Trans-Mongolian train.
I think I have everything sorted and am on top of things, train ticket is there, passport, taxi is booked for 11pm and my train doesn’t leave until 00:35 the following morning. I have been told to be at the station at least an hour before it departs otherwise I may be refused boarding the train. But I’ve checked and a taxi at 11pm is ample time to make sure I am there ahead of 11:35pm.
So I sit waiting, excitement building. 10:55pm and no taxi yet, that’s fine just my eager anticipation, if the taxis are anything like the trains in Russia it will arrive and we will head off exactly at 11:00pm. 11:00pm, no taxi…again fine it’ll be here any second…..11:10pm, still not here. I check with the lad downstairs where I am staying “oh it’s fine, it’s booked, he will ring me when he’s outside”. Ok I sit back down….11:15pm….11:20pm……hmm this will be cutting it fine. I go back to the lad a little more nervous now, it’s not like missing a metro and I can hop on the next one in 12 minutes, time this is the Trans-Siberian express that I will be traveling on non-stop on for the next 4 days, if I miss this it’s game over. The lad rings and there is no answer, so he wanders to the door and looks outside. I’ve seen a car parked there since 10:50pm but thought nothing of it, it’s not a taxi, no markings, just a guy stood next to his car smoking a cigarette. The lad comes back in “yes this is your taxi, he has been waiting”. Oh grief, well at least he’s here and if he drives like the people I have seen in Moscow he will get me there in minutes. I haggle my price down to 550 Roubles, confirm we are going to the right station, Yaroslavsky as there are several stations in Moscow and then finally we are off zooming through the streets of Moscow. 15 minutes later we pull up outside the station, its 11:40pm….I’ve made it, hopefully not too late. I pay the driver and check for the last time as I point at the building in front of me “Yaroslavsky?” ….”ya…ya” he replies and points at the door. Great, so bags in hand I run towards the doors only to be confronted by a fight breaking out between the local station drunken bums. I have no time to size this up though and pick my way through the crowd oblivious to the lunatics swinging haymakers at each other and reeking of cheap Vodka. I bundle my bags as quickly as I can through the x-ray machine, the guard checks my ticket and passport and I quickly check the illuminated board in front of me. Train 044? No, can’t see it. So I scamper towards the platforms and take a look around. One train at a platform. I can’t read Russian but it’s easy to make out it’s destined for the Airport. I check another board next to the platform, maybe the train number has changed, what leaves at 12:35am? If I find that one then it must be mine. I scan down quickly through the dozen or so trains on the board, nothing at all is leaving at that time. So I start asking people. Security, Policeman, other passengers destined for the airport…..they all shake their heads as I show my ticket to them and without looking they say a few words in Russian and walk off. Damn it, whats gone wrong, where is my train? Unsure I head back through the station asking yet more people but to no avail.
I rush out of the doors to try and check the name of the station on the front, obviously in Russian I’m not sure how it’s spelt so I’m clueless and lost and feel as if I’m watching this dream slowly ebb away from me. A Taxi driver beckons me over obviously having watched me fly through the doors into the street. Motioning with his hands as all taxi drivers in the world do to indicate do I need a lift…..either that or he’s asking if I would like to go and milk the family cow. I show him my ticket and he studies it long and hard. “Oh, Yaroslavsky!” He exclaims. He motions that it is the other side of the city “Long way” he shouts. Ah grief, I’ll never catch it now, that’s it game over, it’s approaching 12pm now, only 35 minutes till it leaves and I have no idea how long it takes to get to wherever this other station is. “Quick, quick” he shouts as he opens the door on the taxi. I throw my bags in and ask how much. He draws on his dusty window, 1,200 roubles. That’s the best part of £30. I have no time to display my best haggling skills though, so I quickly agree a round number of 1,000 roubles and jump in the car. We speed away, he knows I am in rush…….and we drive all of 50 yards and stop at lights……and sit and wait…..and wait some more. Come on change damn you….but they don’t. He edges forward a little, and then suddenly he just floors it, jumping the lights and screeching off up the road. Good lad, this guys on my side. It feels like the longest taxi ride of my life, the fastest speed, but definitely the longest journey. Eventually we screech to a halt outside another station. I’ve already paid the man and hastily grab my bags and start running. In the distance behind me I hear his shout of “Good luck”. If I catch this train that man is definitely going on my Christmas card list this year.
I clatter through the doors and am confronted by yet again the usual x-ray machine and armed guard sat there. This one is probably the most docile guard I have met yet and he studies my ticket for what feels like an eternity before motioning in a direction behind him. As I run through the station I glance up at a board. Number 044, there it is….further across the board shows the time it departs, 00:35am. That’s the one…..further across still, the current time 00:20am!!!
Now Yaroslavsky must have about 12 platforms. I have clocked on that board that I need platform 2. Why they didn’t have platform numbers in St Petersburg is beyond me, but I’m certainly relieved Yaroslavsky has. I go through some more doors, another guard and some barriers to swipe through. I show my ticket and again he studies it as if it’s the declaration of independence in all its glory. Come on I need this train! He points back outside and to the right and I’m off and running again. Platform 9….8…..7…so on and so on…..3……then a massive gap and a building. Where is 2? Who stole platforms 1 &2? I see people running with bags, and dragging cases so I follow them round the building and there it is, possibly the best sight I’ve seen in Russia so far. Its platform 2 of Yaroslavsky train station. My train slumbering there like a long metallic snake, smoke rising from the engine and a flurry of people running up the platform. I find my carriage, number 7 and show my ticket and passport to the surly woman guarding the open carriage door. I’ve made it, with literally a minute to spare. I climb on board and before I’ve even had a chance to take my bag off my back and sit down the train clunks and groans and we slowly move off into the night. I let out a massive sigh of relief and stretch my feet out, at last the Trans-Siberian train journey begins.
The cabin I am in is what’s called a soft sleeper with 4 bunks and I’m happy to see I am on the lower bunk so I get my pillow and mattress out from the chest underneath the bunk and prepare to settle in for the night. The carriage I am in is relatively quiet. Four Russian women in a cabin a few doors down, one Russian lad a few cabins the other way and that is it, bar the surly guard who looks after our carriage and has her own little room at the end. I have the cabin to myself and I’m not sure if I’m happy or not as I want to meet people on this journey and get to know the Russians a bit more but given the night I have had and lack of sleep lately I am grateful and lock the door, settle in and drift off for some well-earned sleep.
I have a good sleep, if not a little too warm but I wake and feel more refreshed. I get myself ready and go for a look around. Now the Trans-Siberian isn’t what most people would imagine. It isn’t some luxury train like the Orient Express, it’s a very basic train. It does a job, it ferries Russians backwards and forwards from one town to the next. No mod-cons as such. Basic bunk beds, no running water in the toilets (if you ever get on this train, baby wipes are your best friend!) but it does the job well, it’s punctual and good enough. The train reminds me very much of one I got in Vietnam last year from Hanoi to Hue. It looks like it was built in the seventies from wood effect Formica and cheap soft metal furnishings that probably go dull after a matter of weeks, but it’s comfortable and the guard ensures she looks after her carriage and keeps it tidy and organised. As I move from my carriage to the next I realise I am next to the restaurant car which consists of the same wood Formica as my carriage but this time its formed into the shape of basic tables lining each side with purple table cloths and some sort of a small shop at the far end selling everything from beer to Pringles as well as a small selection of soft toys for any little ones on board. The two women who are working there, sat tapping away on their phones look over and one walks over with a menu. Now I paid for what’s called ‘services’ on this train which apparently includes very basic meals each day but at least that way I knew I would get fed the bare minimum and not starve over the next four days. I’ve taken my ticket stub with me, written in Russian but I’m hoping some part of it indicates that I’m entitled to these meals so I show my ticket and the lady studies and points to one of three sandwich options on the menu. I pick the one that seems to suggest meat, although with no knowledge of Russian it could be anything from carrots to marmite and I also order a coffee to wake me up a bit more. Two minutes later I’m served some slices of salami on the smallest piece of bread known to man and a small cuppa. As I finish my coffee the lady returns, calculator in hand, taps a few numbers and shows me its 134 roubles that I now owe. It’s about £2.20 but I can’t really question these supposed ‘services’ when I am the only non-Russian around and communication is a definite issue. So I pay and saunter back to my cabin and relax with a book and type up last night’s taxi shenanigans to save for the next time I can get online.
I pop for a cigarette and return to find a small brown paper bag on the table containing a bottle of water, a plastic cup with some instant coffee and a plastic bag with what appears to be crusts cut off a loaf of bread. Ah brilliant…..these must be my services. I make my coffee from the boiling water machine near the guard’s room but decide to leave my crusts for another time just in case salami supplies run dry in the next day or two. I then lay back pop some music on and doze off again. I start to stir at the smell of food and look up to find that more services have arrived. I only dozed for 10 minutes but there is now a steaming bowl of vegetable broth that someone has brought in for me and popped on my table…..now that’s a bit more like it I think so I tuck in and use the crusts I thought were my breakfast originally and enjoy the meal.
Now when I originally booked this train I knew it stopped along the way and I had options of about a dozen places to get off and stay at along the way. I only chose the one stop in Irkutsk to go and see Lake Baikal but the line is a service used by many Russians for traversing to various points across their massive country. What I didn’t expect is how often the train actually does stop. It is only 4pm but we must have stopped at around 10 places so far…..no wonder it takes four days to get to Irkutsk. Not all of these stops are to let people on and off either, sometimes it will stop at the smallest of hamlets for only a few minutes to let the little old ladies trundle along excitedly with their buckets of berries and fruit for sale before moving on again. It’s interesting to see and something I had read about when I booked my train.
I don’t manage to get many more pages into my book when yet more ‘services’ arrive in my room. I’m impressed, the Russians are trying to fatten me up at this rate! This time I’m given some nice hot buttered chicken with herbs and approximately 8 very cold and small peas in a polystyrene container. Once finished I settle into my book again only for the surly guard to appear. She speaks not a word of English but I can tell she is asking where I am from and after trying to say England, the UK, the United Kingdom, Great Britain….she says ‘passport’ so I show her only for her to exclaim ‘England!’ ….yes that’s what I just said, is it my accent? but she is laughing and seems to be warming to me. We try to talk for 5 minutes, not understanding a word of each other but it’s good friendly fun all the same trying and nice that she has taken the time to make me feel a bit more welcome. As soon as she has left one of the ladies in the next cabin pops her head in and points to the plastic bag hanging above my bunk that I haven’t opened yet but looks like it just contains a towel and a toothbrush and toothpaste. I nod my head, but again she keeps pointing a little more animated this time. I nod, I am fine, I have my own towel and toothbrush but I’m now a bit worried as she is persistent about this bag and it’s contents, what have I done or not done? The more I shrug my shoulders as if to suggest I don’t understand the more animated she becomes. Until she tears the bag open, pulls the contents out and proceeds to make my bed for me!!! Ahhh I hadn’t realised there were disposable sheets, pillow case and a quilt cover type of thing. So she helps me a bit like a mam and together we make the bed properly. It’s quite funny as I obviously stand out as the only non-Russian around and as animated as the people can be they really do seem to be trying to keep me right with how things run on this train and are trying to help me where they can. It’s nice and I feel a lot warmer towards these people than I did in say Moscow. I had heard they are friendly folk in Siberia and it certainly seems like it from what I have seen so far on this first day aboard the train.
….it’s now 9:30pm local time according to the clock in the restaurant car and checking my phone we must have already rattled through 2 time zone since I boarded the train. It’s getting noticeably colder the further East we travel as well and for the past few hours there has been more and more snow appearing, clinging to the trees and roof tops of the small communities we pass. We have just stopped at a fairly big town and the carriage is starting to fill up a lot more. I now have a companion in my room who although doesn’t speak English is pleasant enough. Looks like a business man type and he has a striking resemblance to Robert Duvall. I’ve made another new friend on board as well a few cabins up purely based on the fact he has needed to borrow my lighter a few times and although at first glance appeared a fairly scary character, a very burly man with all his teeth capped in silver, and does not speak a word of English we chat away at each other in different tongues and try and use hand signals to communicate. He’s just bought me a coffee and a Vodka so yet again my skills for obtaining free beverages are not just the reserve of Stockholm.
My new Russian comrade has not long left when I meet my next new friends…….Steve and Jackie from London. It’s nice to be able to sit and hold a conversation and share some stories together. Both in their fifties, Jackie and Steve are retired so they have taken 3 months off to go traveling, the Trans-Siberian being the first part of their trip before also heading to Beijing and then flying on to Hanoi in Vietnam. Jackie looks a bit like an even more jaded version of Cherrie Blair if such a thing is possible and Steve, well Steve just looks like the ex-council worker he is. It wasn’t hard to spot they were British just from their looks so I spend the next half hour chatting away about travel and experiences before finally heading back to my cabin to bed down opposite the Russian Robert Duvall. It’s been an interesting first day aboard the Trans-Siberian.
