Sunday 1 July 2012

Passing Forty Hours On a Train The Russian Way...



Outside my window, the birch-filled Siberian marshland is whizzing past me, vibrant green from the recent rainfall. It looks like we left the sunshine behind in Khabarovsk. As I write, Patrick flicks through the Lonely Planet, figuring out our plans for the next 20 days, and our three kupe companions- two ladies and the tiniest dog in the world (more on them later) are watching what sounds like a gruesome Russian war mini-series.

We're 30 hours into our 40- hour train ride to Chita. This is the longest train ride either of us have taken; the long train ride to Beijing last November only took 37. The two of us seem to be on here for the shortest time; one of our new Russian friends, Dima, will have been on here for 62 hours when e reaches his stop!

So, how do you spend your time on a lengthy Trans-Siberian train? Well, you've gotta get comfy first...the first thing any Russian passenger will do is hang up their outside clothes, and change into slouchy clothes for the long journey ahead. Patrick was ordered of our kupe while the ladies changed...they weren't going to change elsewhere! But after you've changed into the train attire? You pass the time in true Russian style of course- by making new friends over shots of vodka and giving gifts!

When we first entered our kupe at Khabarovsk, we saw a dog basket on one of the bunks. Surely someone hasn't brought a dog on a 40 hour plus train journey? Surely they had...a Russian lady with braided hair and long pink sparkly nails. She is clearly a lady that keeps up with the latest fashion trends, as demonstrated on the dog...so far, we've seen the dog dressed up gangster style, complete with hood and little pink headphones, and in a classier number comprising of a black-sequined top! and zebra print trousers. I'm looking forward to seeing what else is in Little Doggy's wardrobe.

Our kupe friends have been lovely though. After they admired my many bangles, I gave the dog's owner one as a souvenir. I was thinking of asking for the dog in return- I've kinda fallen in love with it, and she could easily fit into my handbag- but instead she kindly gave me a cool dangly trinket for my phone. I also got a pirate keyring from a little Russian boy; I reciprocated with an English pound and Fijian 50 cent coin. It seems strange to give gifts so suddenly to strangers, but it's a great way to be friendly and open when you both cannot speak the other's language.

As I mentioned before, the other way to a Russian's heart- the other mutually understood language- is vodka. As lovely as our kupe friends are, we knew we had to venture further afield to find some vodka friends- the dining cart being a good bet. Located three carriages away, heading to the dining cart is an interesting experience in itself. The metal floor connectors between the carriages have gaps either side onto the tracks beneath, and are ever so slightly pivotal...keeping your balance and opening the heavy door into the next carriage has become an art!

Once reaching the dining cart, we started off tamely...just a few Baltika no. 7s, a meat plate (including beef tongue), and a smoked Siberian salmon salad. We've heard mixed reviews about the Trans-Siberian food, but those two dishes were pretty good...even if Patrick was a little suspicious about the tongue! It was only when I got up to get us a shot of vodka for the road that some army guys on the table next to us started talking to Patrick in Russian. Next thing I know, they're asking to have photos taken with us, and we're drinking that shot with them. They were certainly an interesting lot...some were topless, some were toothless, one wore an army hat, and one wore football shorts with the pockets pulled inside out. Only one of them, called Andrew, spoke any English, and despite his assertions that he had only drunk 'small alcohol', his inability to remember Patrick's name, and his continual outbursts of 'Stop, stop, stop, stop.....shut up', we begged to differ about his sobriety.

These Army guys were not offensive at all, but our young, pony-tailed waitress was not afraid to give them a good finger-wagging on our behalf. Pretty impressive for a small 20-something girl to stand up to a group of Army guys like that...I wouldn't have fancied it! One of them did teach us a new way of taking vodka shots...tipping it upside down onto your palm, lifting up the bottom slightly, and slurping out the vodka while it drips down your arm. Don't try that one at home, folks...needless to say we left it to the Army guy to show us how it's done.

The guy I spoke of before, Dima, was not connected to the army guys, but spoke considerably better English. The best way to describe him...a railway track-layer rock-star wannabe with a mullet, as well as a pessimistic attitude to being Russian. His dream is to move to Europe, where people have 'more expression on their faces'. In light of his comment, his claim that I look more Russian than Patrick is slightly worrying! Maybe I should try and get more expression on my face...

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That's as far as I got with my blog entry on the train; I'm finishing up in a hotel room in Chita. Shortly after writing that part, Dima poked his head around the door and invited us to join him for a few last beers. So, after a few in the dining cart, we bought a bigger beer bottle during one of our station stops- a small village with wooden houses and beautiful surrounding hills. Dima then invited us back to his kupe, where we met his older kupe companion- a older Russian gas-man with a kind face and no English.

As you can imagine, being woken up at 2am by the providinik after all that beer was not such fun. Hence why we're catching some shut eye now. We certainly can't complain about not getting the full Russian train experience though...here's to more on our next crazily- long trip!

Our next journey is not so bad. Just a day in Chita for us, then another overnight train to Ulan-Ude- this time in plaskart (3rd class open carriages of 54 beds!). After that? Depending on transport available, either Lake Baikal- the deepest lake in the world- or.... MONGOLIA! Stay tuned, folks...and thanks for sticking with me in this loooong blog post!


























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