TRANS-SIBERIAN RAILWAY
BEIJING, CHINA TO MOSCOW, RUSSIA 24 – 29 SEPTEMBER 2003

24 Sep 2003, Day 1 on Train.
Wednesday, 24 September, it is an overcast morning as we have our last great breakfast in the Jinglun Hotel. A ten-minute cab ride got us to the Beijing Railway Station, well almost to it. The driver dropped us, and our ever growing collection of baggage (read that as Betty’s “money saving” purchases), across from the Station. Only by piling smaller bags on top of the two largest bags that have rollers, can we move the entire lot in a single portage. About 12 lanes of hectic traffic separated us from the station. The pedestrian overpass has a series of stairs that do not handle rollers well. About one thousand Chinese were entertained on their way to work as we made our way over this obstacle. The hour and a half lead time we had planned was now down to 20 minutes and we still were not absolutely sure this was even the correct train station, Beijing has six. And, if this is the right place, we had no idea of where we were to go within this mammoth station. As we pass thorough one of the many entryways, our luggage goes onto an Xray conveyor belt. Hundreds of uniformed employees and security police are stationed throughout the large station entry. They asked to see our tickets and we are efficiently bounced from one to the next until we see Train #3 in front of us. Their system works! The conductor could care less how many bags we push onto car #9.

The floor and bunks of our compartment were completely covered with luggage as we crammed in to make room for others passing down the narrow hallway. Amazingly, the storage compartments under the lower bunk and over the door absorbed all of our stuff and we had a very livable little two-berth compartment. About ten minutes later the train is moving and we are on our way to Moscow, we think.

Our compartment has two narrow bunks. The top bunk folds up so the lower one can be used as a sofa during the day. A small table is at the window. Good news, we share a shower and wash basin with the adjoining compartment, we had heard the only way to bathe was to pour water over our heads in the common toilet area at the end of the car. Actually, this arrangement is a closet with a wash basin and doors into both compartments. The faucet spout can be extended to use as a showerhead, similar to some kitchen sink faucets. A drain in the floor and a metal shield to prevent water from spraying on any clothes or towels on the clothes hook complete this closet shower. The bad news is that there is only cold water, the good news: it only runs at a slow trickle, so is doesn’t really matter much if it is cold water.

This is one of the better-equipped trains on the Trans-Siberian Route. Train #3 runs from Beijing to Moscow once per week, while Train #4 makes the weekly return trip. There are only about 15 cars, including an engine (two in the mountains), a few baggage cars and a dining car. Two of the passenger cars are configured with two-berth compartments and the remaining passenger cars have 4-berth compartments. Other trains that run this five to seven day route have open seating with dozens of people spreading their gear and food as they make camp near a reclining seat. We have talked with people who told us it was like being locked in a zoo cage (with the animals) for a week and to avoid it at all costs. Others say it is the only way to go. They love meeting so many different people, the friendly group tastings of local beer and vodka, and the conversations and songs that last through the nights.

Our shower-sharing neighbor is Vicente from Spain. He is my age and is on a “round-the-world-by-train” adventure. So far he has taken trains across: Canada, Japan, Korea and through China to Beijing. He will continue from Moscow, by train, back to his home north of Madrid. Vicente Macho is also a trekker and a runner. We have hiked some of the same trails, including some in Nepal and we have both run the Berlin Marathon.

The compartment on the other side of us is occupied by Jerry Cohen from Seattle. He is probably in his forties, has traveled lots and is very well read, especially concerning world politics and events. As luck would have it, Vicente’ and Jerry share my quest in search of the world’s best beer. It is good to have professional help with such an important mission.

The Chinese conductor for our car, Jin, speaks only Chinese but keeps a close watch on all that enter and leave this car. Our door only locks from the inside so it is good to know he is watching while we are in the dining car or walking around the stations during brief stops. He also keeps a charcoal-fired samovar filled with boiling water. Everyday he fills a large thermos in each compartment. We use the hot water for bathing, making coffee, ramen, cup-of-soup, etc.

When the train departed Beijing, we saw a much different view of China. Crowded conditions in poor ghetto-like areas were in sharp contrast to the modern glitz of downtown Beijing. The villages we passed in rural areas are obviously depressed economically and about 60 years behind the western world. Streets were not paved and there were few automobiles. Most of the buildings, especially the larger ones are in serious disrepair. Many of the older people still wear subdued colors, mostly blue and gray, many still wear Mao jackets.

At 8:40pm, we stopped at a railroad yard for a bogie change. The wheels under each train car are removed and replaced with ones which are 2 inches narrower so that they are compatible with the tracks in Mongolia and Russia. This interesting operation took about an hour. They disconnect each car, remove the bogie pins, lift the car with large hydraulic jacks, roll the wheels down the track and out from under the car, then roll the proper sized ones in from the other end and lower the car onto them. They also swapped the Chinese dining car and galley staff with a Mongolian car and staff. Crossing the border stations out of China and into Mongolia was purely administrative but took three times as long as it took to change the wheels. We had uniformed officials of first China then Mongolia in and out of our compartment until after 1am.

25 Sep 2003, Day 2 on train,
This morning I was the only customer in the Mongolian dining car for nearly an hour. They were serving egg and onion omelets and crepe pancakes. Wonderful! What a change from the Chinese dining car yesterday when we had pork-fat with gristle for lunch and beef-fat with gristle for dinner. At least the portions were small.

We have been passing through the Gobi desert of Mongolia for hundreds of miles. It is dry, mostly flat landscape with sparse vegetation not more than a few inches high – no trees. It is similar to the arid sunlands of New Mexico and Arizona. There are only a few small villages and they have mostly tiny homes constructed of homemade mud bricks. Generally they have no windows on the north and west sides, possibly due to prevailing winds. Occasionally, one or more gers or yurts (a round insulated felt tent with a stovepipe sticking out of the roof and a small wooden door) are seen. The gers are homes for nomadic herders of cattle, sheep or goats. Sometimes we see cowboys on their small Mongolian horses herding several dozen cows. Camels seem to be rare, but we have seen a few grazing in remote areas.

What little farming we’ve seen has used mules or burrows and a lot of manual labor. Tractors are scarce and the few we’ve seen were probably over 30 years old. There has been some heavy equipment working on a road construction project that parallels the railroad. It is eerie looking across this harsh barren land and knowing that Ghengis Khan and his Mongol warriors began here and went on to dominate Asia and most of Europe.

Finally we left the Gobi behind us and entered a region of low mountains. Ulan Baatar looked interesting. Too bad we were only there a few minutes.

Our train crossed from Mongolia into Russia during the night. It was another three hour episode: train stops, uniformed bureaucrats board, doors open, lights on, train backs up, everyone waits, more uniforms to take passports, everyone waits, train moves forward, etc. About 2AM our passports were returned and we were on our way again.

26 Sep 2003, Day 3 on train.
It was a beautiful sunrise over the Russian countryside. The Russian villages are much different than those in both China and Mongolia. Most of the houses are constructed of wood. There are more automobiles and the inhabitants are primarily Caucasian. The larger towns show signs of industry and more economic activity.

The railroad goes along the southern shore of beautiful Lake Baikal. This is the deepest lake in the world, over 4,000 feet. It holds one fifth of all the fresh water on earth, more than all five of our Great Lakes combined. And, it is amazingly clear. The beauty of the lake and the low mountains along much of its shore make it a remote vacation area.

The city of Irkutsk is a few miles west of Lake Baikal. Many of its residents were exiled aristocrats sent to “Siberia”. This area and the great expanse to the northeast had the Gulag work camps that swallowed 20 million Russian citizens under Stalin. Irkutsk was a major departure point for expeditions in the 1700’s. Some were probing the arctic and others the vast expanse to the northeast. The merchant trader George Shelekhov made expeditions across the Bering Sea into Alaska, then known as the American District of Irkutsk.

About six hours beyond Irkutsk is the city of Krasnoyarsk and the Yensey River, which flows from above the Arctic Circle. This also was a base for expeditions into the far north.

The dining car doubles as the “club car”. Apparently, an international group of guys have decided to party their way across Siberia. Members of the group come and go, but the core seems to include: a Czech, two Russians (Alex I and Alex II), a young Swiss named Simon, Tim who is an American, and a few others. Vicente, Jerry and I have a beer or a shot of Vodka with them when we happen to be in the dining car, but we quickly find a reason to get back to our own car. The past couple of nights we have gathered in our compartment for a couple of beers and listen to each other’s travel stories.

27 Sep 2003, Day 4 on the train.
This morning we awake to see a light cover of snow on the ground. Fortunately, our train car is heated by a coal-fired boiler. Each car has a boiler at one end. The hot water is circulated through baseboard heaters in each compartment and along the hall. At one stop today, a small truck hauling coal drove down the platform stopping at each car to shovel a few scoops into the bins near each boiler.

This afternoon we were visited by a Japanese couple we met a couple of days ago. Itaru and Shoko live near Yokohama and also have a home in Tokyo. They shared a bottle of Japanese wine with us, so Betty dug out the only bottle of wine that we brought with us. Jerry joined us and we had a good time sharing travel experiences. Three years ago Shoko and Itaru went by train from Vladivodstok, Russia to Lake Baikal.

About dark we stopped in Novosibirsk, the largest city since departing Beijing. As at most stops several older women are on the platform selling homemade food, beer, cigarettes, etc. The “babushkas” are some hard looking women who speak only Russian and never smile.

28 Sep 2003, Day 5 on the train.
The dawn brought us a great day. It has become our routine to start the day by filling the two-liter thermos with hot water from the samovar at the end of our car. Then we have instant coffee with either granola bars or pastries we’ve bought from the babushkas on a station platform.

Later, I managed a limited workout in the minimal floor space of our compartment then it was the shower drill. When we entered Russia a couple of days ago, the Mongolian dining car was swapped for a Russian car and kitchen staff; that was a bad trade. Almost no one eats there more than once. Recently our meals have consisted of ramen, soups and snacks that we brought with us and whatever we purchase at the stops. The good news is that the Russian dining car has an endless supply of beer and vodka.

We have now departed Siberia. As we move westward the towns are larger, more modern and more industrial. Our last stop was at Yekaterinberg with nearly 1 ½ million people. It was near here that Gary Powers was shot down in a U-2 “Spy Plane” in the 1960’s.

Just before entering the Ural Mountains we passed an obelisk that marks the dividing line between Europe and Asia. Shoko, Itaru, Vicente, Jerry, Betty and I all watched for it with our cameras ready. At this point, the Urals are not much more than rolling hills but the fall colors are impressive on this sunny day. The coal mining towns here look much like those in the hills of West Virginia.

Vincente announced that the gathering tonight would be in his compartment. At a stop, I bought a couple of two-liter plastic bottles of local beer. This and the several smaller glass bottles that we have will be our contribution to the celebration of our last night on the Trans-Siberian.

The party was subdued but great, Tim and Simon were there as were Jerry and Itaru. The seven of us were crammed into the small compartment. Betty was the only female there, evidently Shoko was sleepy after having a little plum wine with dinner. Jerry brought his guitar and Vicente sang several songs, we all liked his version of “Ole Man River”. We talked of places past and places planned; it was a gathering of kindred spirits.

29 Sep 2003, Day 6 on the train.
We were up by 6:30AM to see the Volga River as we crossed over it. The Volga is the longest river in Europe. Just the name of it conjures up visions of accordion music, passengers from many European countries and good cheer as a riverboat cruises by green hillside farms and little villages. Maybe another time?

The Volga was about a half-mile wide and at this hour only a few small boats were out fishing. It passed quickly. We had breakfast and packed our gear. Shoko and Itaru brought their plum wine down for a toast just before arriving in Moscow. They also invited Jerry and Vicente. We exchanged addresses and since we were all staying in the Rossiya Hotel, agreed to meet there at 10PM to have a beer and compare notes.

29 Sep 2003, Day 1 in Moscow.
Our travel agency had arranged for someone to meet us, take us to the hotel and insure that the hotel registration went well. Victor was waiting for us. As he careened through heavy city traffic to the hotel, he provided lots of information about Moscow. Our hotel, the Rossiya, is said to be the largest in Europe with about one thousand rooms. It has several entrances and registration lobbies. It was a zoo getting registered. Victor said good-bye and Moscow was ours to explore. Our room looked like a poor replica of a cheap motel room in the early 1950’s. Of course, Betty assumed that the room was bugged and had two-way mirrors. We walked by the colorful and strikingly beautiful St. Basil’s Cathedral on the way to Red Square. A large portion of Red Square, including the part with Lenin’s Mausoleum was cordoned off and temporarily closed. The many cathedrals, the Square and the Kremlin behind it were all colorful, beautiful and impressive. We found a chic shopping mall (GUM) with three levels and had lunch/dinner.

Moscow is a very “European” city, grand old buildings, busy people, lots of traffic and a cosmopolitan/ international flair, but still somewhat low key and relaxed in many ways.

At 10PM in the evening the “Trans-Sib” group gathered in one of the many hotel bars for a beer and to exchange tips and info about seeing the sights of Moscow.

30 Sep 2003, Day 2 in Moscow.
It seemed unusual to sleep all night without intermittent clanging, the growling of metal wheels on metal tracks, rocking and rolling motion and unexplainable stopping and starting. We normally don’t eat in large European hotel restaurants because they are generally ridiculously overpriced, but it looked very convenient this morning. The result: US$19 for two very small cups of coffee and two slivers of a tasty breakfast cake. Some of life’s lessons must be refreshed from time to time.

We decided to search for an English speaking tour of the Kremlin and possibly of the Armory and the Diamond Fund. After wandering about the cobblestone streets near Red Square in search of a tour vendor we had seen the day prior, we gave up and set off to stumble through the Kremlin, et al, on our own. As we joined the long line waiting to enter through the Kremlin walls, a Russian lady approached us and we struck a deal to have her guide us through the Armory, then the Diamond Fund and, lastly the Kremlin. Dalalya spoke English with a heavy Russian accent and much of the information she provided was lost. She organized the next five hours so that we could see each area according to their seemingly sporadic schedules.

First, we toured the Armory, a magnificent repository of State treasures and gifts covering the past eight hundred years or so. The opulent world of the Tsar’s and other royal leaders made it clear why the poor workers of the country revolted or fled.

Next, we entered the very secure area of the Diamond Fund. This extensive collection of gold, diamonds and other rare jewels was assembled for exhibition in the 1970’s. Tens, maybe hundreds, of thousands of diamonds are behind glass in lighted displays. One of the largest diamonds in the world, the 190 carat Orlov Diamond is mounted on the handle of a scepter. Over a thousand diamonds were in some of the crowns.

Finally, we walked through the grounds of the Kremlin. “Kreml” means fortress in Russian. A wood wall was built in the 12th century and replaced with limestone walls in about 1360. It was the headquarters of the Russian Orthodox Church and since has been the seat of power for Tsars, communist dictators and now democratic presidents. The high walls enclose a triangle and the total distance around is 2 ¼ kms. President Putin’s office is inside the walls, Red Square is outside the east wall and the Moscow River is outside the south wall. During Stalin’s dictatorship ordinary citizens of Russia were not permitted in the Kremlin. If they were within the Kremlin walls it was because they were being executed.

As we returned to the hotel, Itaru and Shoko Dekio, our Japanese friends, were waiting for their ride to the airport. In less than ten hours, including a stop in Seoul, they would be home in Japan. It took them over ten days to get to Moscow, first by ferry then by train. Our Trans-Sib friends are quickly going in all directions. We thought Tim and Simon were in our hotel but they have disappeared and are off on their next travel adventures. Jerry is the gourmet of our remaining Trans-Sib group and, in a guidebook, he found the name of a restaurant that looked like it might be good. He, Vicente, Betty and I took a $15 cab ride, which dropped us in a seedy part of the city after driving around for 45 minutes searching. It was not the right place. A young security guard lead us on a one kilometer walk to a real sleazy hotel that contained the restaurant on an upper floor of the adjoining building. Vicente’s “red flags” were telling us to depart the area. Jerry went to check it out while we mingled with hundreds of rough and grungy looking people, mostly men probably from the Kazakistan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan area. They looked like Afgan refugees in their rag clothes and some with turbans. When Jerry returned, we did not wait for his report but quickly headed for the nearest subway entrance. About twenty cents each got us back to the vicinity of our hotel and to a quiet place with good food that Vicente had found previously.

1 Oct 2003, Day 3 in Moscow.
We packed, wrote some post cards, shopped for some last minute items and took a cab to the Belarus Train Station. This is a smaller station than the one the Trans-Siberian train brought us to a few days earlier. Some lunch and a couple of beers at an outdoor café help pass the hours until our train arrived.

Our compartment on this train was nicer and more modern than on the Trans-Sib train. However, it was smaller and for some reason there was a problem with the water. None to the wash basin in any of the compartments, and worse, none to the common latrine at the end of the car.

It was another night with many interruptions. We departed Russia and entered Belarus without notice and stopped for 20 minutes at about 2AM in Minsk, Belarus. Then about dawn just before crossing into Poland, the various border officials took our passports, collected customs forms, searched our compartment, etc. During this time the train moved into a covered depot and the bogie wheel assemblies on each car were changed.

2 Oct 2003, Day 1 in Warsaw.
About mid-morning, we arrived in Warsaw and were met by Riata, the representative arranged by Sundowners Travel Agency. She spoke excellent English and agreed to guide us through the sites of Warsaw after we checked in to our hotel. The Orbis Hotel Grand was clean, modern and has a friendly staff. We showered, had a snack and met Riata. She drove us to several beautiful and peaceful city parks. She captivated us for five hours with the proud but sometimes tragic history of this unique country and its capital. From times of both good and bad kings, to the march on Moscow with Napoleon in 1812, the collapse and dissolution of their country in the 19th century, its re-establishment after WWI, their defeat of a Russian invasion in 1920, the near total elimination of their Jewish population and the deliberate and near total destruction of Warsaw by the Nazis during WWII, including the loss of 16,000 citizen soldiers and 150,000 civilians in the uprising of 1944 against Nazi occupation near the end of the war. This while the Russian Army stood nearby for 63 days with orders not to assist the Polish resistance fighters who were under siege. For 2 months after the Nazis regained control they torched and dynamited the city. The story of all this and more is told in the parks, at the monuments and displays throughout the rebuilt city. You cannot help but love this city and admire its people.

In the evening we walked to the Dyspensa Restaurant. It was quiet, with Old World charm and the pork cutlets with sauerkraut were delicious.

3 Oct 2003, Day 2 in Warsaw.
A great buffet breakfast came with the price of the room. It was a European breakfast with extras. The typical hard rolls, cheeses, and jams were there and also boiled and poached eggs, sausages, herring, an omelet bar, and much more. After breakfast we packed and stored our luggage with the hotel so we could do some more sightseeing.

We took a taxi to the Old Town, an area we visited yesterday. It has been carefully restored as the city was reconstructed. It is the only such site to be on UNESCO’s list of World Historical Places. A museum, historical film, some idle walking and snapshots, a couple of beers and a bite to eat then there was just enough time to walk back to the hotel. The 2120 train will take us to Prague. We will again be traveling through the night and will have a sleeping compartment.

4 Oct 2003, Day 1 in Prague.
A rap at the door of our train compartment woke us at about 1AM. We were departing Poland and crossing into Czechoslovakia. A uniformed official said, “Good Morning, could we see your passports please?” As I shook cobwebs of the night from my head, I thought either I am dreaming or these guys are impostors trying to steal our passports. They were very courteous, as were the customs officials and others that soon followed. The last lady, who stamped our documents, actually told us that the checks were complete and we could go back to sleep, then she closed our door. Usually, we wait for nearly an hour expecting yet one more demanding official.

It was 7:30AM as we rolled into the Prague main station. We expected to meet our transfer agent and get a “brain dump” of information about the city as we rode to our hotel. We had dozens of questions and hoped to hire the agent as our guide for the afternoon, as we had done in Warsaw. Betty took her rolling luggage down the platform to find the transfer agent as I wrestled with the heavy stuff. Good news, a young guy carrying a sign with our names was waiting. Bad news, his English was no better than our Czech, that’s zero. More bad news, he drove about 30 minutes out of the city and left us at the curb in front of the Dum Hotel. This gets worse, it is a few minutes after 8AM but we cannot register until 2PM. Betty tries to talk them into allowing us to get into our room, any room, long enough to shower and leave our bags. Nothing doing! This is a hotel of 200 rooms. It doesn’t matter whether a room is ready earlier than 2PM – 2PM is the check in time! The result, our bags went into a secured luggage room and we waited until 1250PM when we were picked up for a group tour of Prague. Betty insisted that we sit directly in front of the little registration desk to remind them how inconvenienced we were. It didn’t work.

The Prague tour included a windshield tour of the city and a walk through the castle, St. Vitas Church, lots of palaces and the “changing of the guard”. The tour terminated in the “Old Town Square”, a beautiful and busy place that we had visited when we were here in 1989. Now we walked a mile or so in the direction of the main train station to buy tickets to get us to Germany tomorrow. That done, it was time to look for a neat place for dinner. Ah, a Czech restaurant with a no-smoking area tucked away in the kellar. The Czech potato soup, goulash and herb steak were all good, the portions large and the goulash spicy. After a couple of beers and a little wine it seemed like a good time to see if we could find a way back to our hotel via subway and bus. It worked, at 930PM with a little help from a stranger and some luck, we were ready to register at the hotel, claim our baggage and get a few hours sleep before a 5AM wake up.

5 Oct 2003 Czech to Germany and Tiph’s.
It’s dark, five o’clock on a Sunday morning and the clock radio in our room just happens to be set on a country music station. Johnny Cash provides the wake up call with “I Am Sam”. This is somewhat appropriate, the one time we saw Johnny Cash perform was in Germany about 30 years ago. Today we are bound for Germany.

Since we were departing prior to the Dum Hotel’s complimentary breakfast, they gave us a “bag breakfast” to go. The cab was precisely on time and we shot through the deserted streets and along the Vlata River and through Prague to the Main Station. Our train had “day compartments” and we had one designed for six passengers, all to ourselves. On the way through the city of Pilzen we had a 13-minute stop, just long enough to hustle across the platform to a small kiosk and ask for two pilzen pivos. Great, two half-liter bottles of Pilzen Urquell appear.

The border crossing out of Czechoslovakia and into Germany was very civilized; a glance at our passports by the Czech, then by the German officials and it was over, no questions, no stamps, just a smile and a nod.
We changed trains in Swandorf and were off to Weiden. Betty sent Tiphanie a message this morning telling her that we would be in Weiden at 1344 and make arrangements from there to Vilseck where Tiph lives. When we got to Weiden, Tiph was waiting for us. She whisked us off to her beautiful German home in Vilseck. After getting settled in, and visiting, Tiph took us out to a wonderful German meal. Wow – this is living!!!

 

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