The Train Kept A-Rollin'

World Adventurer (September 5, 2003 Chautauqua)

    My favorite comedy group is "Monty Python's Flying Circus." One of their sketches takes us to a university in Australia, where all of the professors are named "Bruce." When a new instructor from England arrives, the main question they have for him is:

   "Here, is your name not Bruce?"

  "No, it's Michael." he replies.

   "That's going to cause a little confusion. Mind if we call you 'Bruce' to keep it clear?"

"G-day, Bruce!"

   I felt a little like that English professor as I contemplated my travelling companions on the "Russia" train on the Trans-Siberian railway.

   I had met Alek I in the dining car. He spoke English. It turned out that he was a businessman who had just closed up shop in Vladivostok, and was going home to Moscow along with his mother.

   We enjoyed some Russian beer, and then some vodka.     There were quite a few other people in the car, enjoying the local spirits, as well. There were quite a few Japanese, as the Russian Far East is quite a business and recreation area for them. They got off the train the next day, lined up and led away by their tour guides like POWs.

   Alek II joined the train a few hours after we  left Vladivostok. He was an older gentleman, long retired. I was fascinated to hear (through Alek I) that he had joined the Red Army in 1944 (17 years old!), fought the Germans, and then travelled east (along this same route) to fight the Japanese.

   Alek III came into the compartment in the middle of that first night. He was a major in the Russian army, commanding a unit of tanks. All through this trip, soldiers were coming and going, on the way to their various assignments.

   Next door to my compartment, a young family was travelling. The parents stuck close to their compartment, but their twin girls were in and out of almost all the others in their search for something to do. Their names were "Katya" and "Nastia." I had left all of my teaching toys in Korea, but I tried to entertain them as best I could. They were more comfortable hanging out with Alek III, and were constantly imploring him for something or other, using him as a jungle gym, and so on.

   Just down the way, a young Japanese girl shared a compartment with three soldiers. Her name was Masako, and she was going to Moscow, St. Petersburg, and the Baltic countries before heading into Poland.

   The soldier that lasted longest in her compartment was named Sergei (What? Not "Alek?" That's going to cause...)

   Anyway, we were all travelling in the 2nd class, or kupeyny, carriage, which has nine enclosed compartments. Each has four berths, a fold-down table, and just enough room to turn around. First class compartments differ only in the number of berths - two. The lowest class of accommodation is platskartny, which is a carriage with no compartments, just bunks ranged along the walls. Privacy is out of the question, and as many as 60 people get used to sharing the space like one big, BIG family.

   In my own car, there were two washrooms (one at each end), with a light in the corridor to show if they were occupied. I usually rose at about 8:00, and had no trouble finding an unoccupied lavatory. There is no hot water in the washroom. It's  found in a samovar next to the  providnitsa's compartment. It was basically a medium-sized water heater. (The providnitsa was the attendant.) I would fill a thermos, and that would do for my morning wash. There is no plug for the basin, so I improvised one from a paperweight I had. My last month or so in Korea was spent haunting hardware stores, looking for a universal plug. No luck, though.

   The other indispensable necessity that you must not forget to bring is toilet paper. I had heard that the washroom smell could be a problem, but the providnitsa's kept it pretty clean.

   The train had begun its journey at 5:30 PM on Monday, April 28th.

   Time is a relative concept, and no more so than on this trip. There is a schedule posted in each car, but all of the times are Moscow time, which is seven hours ahead of Vladivostok. As we travelled west, we have to adjust to the different times almost every day (sometimes twice in one day). It makes it a little confusing, and if you are not careful, you can become disoriented.

   There is an amusing story in the "Lonely Planet" guide about how the writer tried to find out when a train would depart, Moscow or local time. The clerk was an example of a typical bureaucrat, who gave answers that solved nothing.

   Vladivostok is 9,289 km from Moscow, and we would be passing through 7 time zones. I would have to adjust my watch almost every day (sometimes twice) besides keeping track of the mileage. Knowing where you were comes in handy when you are looking forward to a station stop that would allow for some time off the train.

   112 km out of Vladivostok, we passed through Ussuriysk (9,177 km from Moscow). This town had formerly been named Nikolskoe, in honour of the Tsar's 1891 visit. At that time it was quite a bit bigger and more important than Vladivostok. There is a twice-weekly train to Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea, from here.

   The first major stop was going to be at 7:30 AM on the second day of our journey, when we passed through Khabarovsk (8,531 km from Moscow). The "Lonely Planet" describes the crossing of the Amur River as something not to be missed. The train passes over on a 2.5 km bridge, the longest such on the trip. I was up at approximately the right time, but I missed out on the bridge completely. Maybe we were early, or maybe the Russians changed the crossing. We did go through an inordinately long tunnel.

   Up until this time, we had been traveling north. We now turned west, skirting the Chinese border, sometimes coming within 50 km. In earlier, more suspicious times, western travellers would have their blinds drawn and secured so as to prevent any view into China.

   The countryside we passed through now reminded me quite a bit of Alberta, or maybe I was just homesick. There were a lot of birch and fir trees, and would be all the way across Russia. The land was still emerging from winter. There was a chill in the air, the grass was brown, and there was still a lot of ice on the rivers. There were also a lot of tussocks along the way. These grassy clumps were all over the land like a rash.

   44 km from Khabarovsk, we passed through Volochaevka (8,487 km from Moscow). This was the site of the final battle of the civil war, when the Soviets established control over the Far East.

   129 km further along, we made a short stop in Birobidzhan (8358 km from Moscow), the capital of the Jewish Autonomous Region. Stalin had tried to get the Jews to concentrate in this area, promising them a "homeland" of sorts. The place is a swamp, and many of the "settlers" refused to stay. Today they only comprise 7% of the population.

   173 km further along we passed from the Russian Far East into Eastern Siberia, and came one time zone closer to Moscow (still 8,185 km away).

   About 12:30, we made our first extended stop at Obouchbe, for about 20 minutes. It was my first opportunity to "raid" the locals for food and drink. There were quite a few set up along the side of the track, selling various packaged products, as well as local produce. I bought some grilled chicken and some dumplings. This was pretty much what I was going to live on. There was also ramen (Cup o' Noodles) and pozy, which are like meat-filled pastry. Besides bottled water, I also stocked up on beer, which came in plastic litre bottles. Very cheap, and very good.

The Belogorsk terminal, with locals selling their wares

   There was another long stop at Belogorsk (7,873 km from Moscow), at about 5:30 PM, and another at 11:30, at Mogocha. At this stop, I nearly froze my heinie off. It was COLD! but I did not hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity to get off the train. There was not going to be much of that on this trip.