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Vilnius to Saint Petersburg
The train stood a clear 9ft tall and a million miles long as we climbed from the subterranean locker room to the platform at Vilnius station. This was the train I had been waiting for. Well, I mean, we’d waited for plenty of trains up till now but for me this was the kind of train which would make this whole experience. Making a carriage your home for however long you have to is a real skill on the transiberian. This relatively short stint, approximately 14 hours, would decide if I could enjoy this kind of ordeal or if we would wilt under the pressure of close confinement.
The silver and red colours made the train look like a sleak 50’s American relic. The roof of all the cars, stretching far off into the Lithuanian night as far as the eye could see, were snow capped and the walls plastered thick with ice. Each wagons chimney belching thick black soot into the purple evening sky as the deep roar of the diesel engines echoed around the empty station.
Each carriage has it’s own attendant and ours was a large cosy looking woman. She beckoned us forward and asked each of us our nationality in turn. She quickly scanned the tickets and passports and showed us aboard. Our backpacks barely fitted through the tiny train corridors as we brushed past the business end of the coach and fairly ran towards the seats assigned us for the night. After some initial excited wrong turns we found our places were the very first births as we entered the train.
On the left a four birth open cabin shared space with a slim corridor and two extra bunks aligned with the small passage way. We were lying in the corridor beds.
All the blankets for the wagon (grey and red heavy wool items ideal for the subzero climate) were piled on my bed. The upper bunk of the two corridor births. We had to wait for the other travelers to collect them before we could fully move in. Me and James sat hunched beneath the expertly engineered platform of my bed and slowly acclimatised our selves with our much anticipated surroundings.
The four birth cabin opposite housed a Lithuanian couple with enough luggage to fill a shop, we concluded they were either emigrating or off on an extended holiday in Russia. The boarder guards would enjoy quizzing them. Also here was a middle aged woman who seemed intent on sleeping the entire journey. We moved all the blankets obstructing our bunks onto the upper bed on the sleepy woman’s side of the four birth, and made up our beds. Crisp linen folded carefully over firm but fair benches and the luxurious wool blankets made for a very inviting bed.
Behind us the wagons offices and toilet were expertly nestled in the smallest possible spaces, allowing only a small private sleeping cabin for the original attendant. She never seemed to use this room, instead preferring to march the length of the carriage serving tea and coffee. In there was also a younger Russian version who would tend to these duties beyond the boarder. She would display a very different, very Russian style of service, all scorn and annoyance.
Me and James walked the train, as we tend to do now once we get settled. We marvelled at everything; the WC’s at either end of our wagon, the smoking areas beyond both and the open link way at the very ends of each coach, with their noise and growing frost and disturbing view down to the speeding rails below. Our journey took us from our 2nd class cabin through the seated class and into first. The carriage housing the restaurant was small and filled with tables and chairs all and conversation. The whole train was buzzing with communication between strangers and it felt warm and homely. First class was quiet and sterile and we attracted some strange looks on our way back to our beds.
I watched the very nice and kind woman in the next compartment answer her grand daughters questions about the foreigners sleeping in the beds next door and was rocked to sleep by the motion of the train.
A boarder patrol guard woke me with a grab of my leg and asked for my passport. I handed it over and fell back to sleep. I had sat through long boarder crossings before and knew there was nothing to be done but enjoy the time in my warm bunk. I was woke again to receive my documents back and then again inside Russia where a guard would search all the baggage storage bins for stowaways using an ancient military lamp as a guide. The crossing wasn’t half as distressing as we had read it could be.
I love this train, the warmth, the sense of belonging, the smells and the adventure, the water boiler and the attendants (even the moody ones hvae their good points). 2nd sleeper class is defiantly a first class way to travel.
click for larger images
“Donner, Titzen and Rick!”
So Christmas is done, the turkey all has been gobbled and all the lovingly wrapped presents lay scattered about the house in many various bits and pieces but I’m awake typing out my merry memories and travel plans just for you.
This house which has seemed so large and empty every day for the past month is now bursting at the seems. All the beds have been taken and I am relegated to the sofa in the front room with the opened toy boxes and discarded sweet wrappers, where I have no chance of any sleep. I wouldn’t want it any other way. My nan (mothers side), Louise, Rob and Lewis (who provided the quote above over dinner when reciting Santa’s reindeer helpers in song - just one of many times he would reduce all of us to tears of laughter during the day) joing me, mum and dad for a great day taking in all of the festive traditions. We ate our weights tore open all manor of gifts, took loads of pictures, played games, shared great old stories, got a wee bit drunk, watched loads of telly and even followed a pirate treasure hunt around the house to find a buried/locked chest. One of the best.
I took the chance to update the Map page with our full projected route, taking in not only our travel plans across mainland Europe Eastward into Russia but also now the Trans Siberian train route leaving Moscow towards Ulan-Udewhere we jump track and switch onto the Trans Mongolian trains which take us all the way to Beijing. Here the plans go a little fuzzy. I’d love to head North to take in Harbin but realise time is short and with such a large expanse of country still to explore before our thirty day single entry tourist visas expire, I probably should plan to head South, exploring the busy coastal regions, eventually jumping the boarder to head for Thailand and work (James may be able to secure jobs teaching in China which will change all this. We wait on confirmation).
It’s been a busy old holiday. I’ve also had my stitches out although of the five sewn in, only two remained. I didn’t even notice them beingtorn from my rippling neck. Superman! I took the opportunity, while visiting the health centre to visit my nurse one last time to review my inoculation record pre-travels. A clean bill of health and a good luck hand shake where issued. I re-packed my mega bag choosing to jettison a pair of shorts, my belt, one of the two towels and three socks (a pair and one of my Liverpool football club socks for our Champions league winning season – the one with the hole. I’m usingthe other as external hard drive protection. I just had to keep it on board somehow). Now my boots fit inside my bag and the whole mess feels alot more manageable. I also started on reading Catch-22, which I am completely enjoying. A minority opinion I share with but one person I have questioned regarding the work. I plough on undeterred. I also took in a great movie I was saving for a special occasion ‘Soylent Green’. I really can’t speak highly enough of this dark distopian vision. Heaston leads a fine cast who all turn in worthy and believable performances. The future vision is not too distant as to be over fantastical (Startrek) but still with farsighted gloomy signposts of societies disturbing trends (furniture girls). A beautiful flick which has dated like a fine wine, truly a test of the sci-figenre and testament to the strength of the inevitable plodding story. Good soundtrack too. I am a geek for this kind of thing though.
Amongst all this good stuff was a real stinking sprout of a phone call for one – Mr. Shortball. It seems I won’t be able to squeeze my load onto his back seat. I was going to hitch a ride down south with his mother but now it looks as if I’ll be hauling ass in cargo class on the mega bus. This does have the benefit of giving me two extra days at home, relaxing the last minute rush I’ve had my self in seemingly for the past four weeks. But on the downside I’ll be traveling on the day of the Eurostar connection thus removing any safety net time and also costing me a whole £15. Worst of all I won’t get to relax with my budski’s before the away and do all the last night big idea-ing, having the best kind of pie-in-the-ski-what-might-be kind of dreams. Never mind, we’ve got months for all of that bunkum and claptrap.
Also as a little aside, I have sliptinto a very strange sleep pattern. A two day off, one day on kind of shift thing which allows me to go for long periods with out feeling as though I require any sleep at all ultimately paid for with a swift and very definite return to earth and beyond. I party hard in the land of Nod. I don’t go often but when I go, I go big time – mad, vivid dreams et al.
Sorry if this is too flowery and wordy I’ll try and return to a sharper prose style and nice easy thumbnails asap – there started already.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS
