The Trans-Siberian Railway

World Adventurer (August 15, 2003 Chautauqua)

   The Trans-Siberian Railway is the world's longest, and most impressive, train ride. It crosses eight time zones, covering 9,289 kilometres through taiga, steppe, and desert.

   There are three different main lines and numerous trains running on what is generically called the Trans-Siberian. I had chosen to ride from Vladivostok to Moscow, but you can also travel through Mongolia and China.

   The main line starts from Yaroslavl station in Moscow, departing every other day on a 6 and a half day journey. The Trans-Mongolian follows the main route as far as Lake Baikal, where it turns south to reach the Chinese capital of Beijing via Ulan Bataar, the capital of Mongolia.

   The Trans-Manchurian leaves the line further east, at Tarskaya, to reach Beijing via Harbin and northeastern China.

   Russia's initial conquest of Siberia was via its rivers, but the burgeoning population and the covetous eyes of neighbours pointed out the need for better communication links.

   The Americans had completed their railway in 1869, and we Canadians had done it in 1885. The Russians finally began theirs in 1891.  The right of way was cut through and across taiga and steppe with hand tools. The work force was made up of convicts, imported Chinese, exiles, and soldiers. Thanks to the terrain, climate, floods, landslides, disease, war, bandit attacks, and not to mention bad planning, it took 26 years to complete. It remains a brilliant feat of engineering. The railway was divided into six sections so that work could be done simultaneously.

   For the longest time, the hole on the track was around Lake Baikal. Trains were taken across by ship, and tracks were laid across in winter, when the lake froze. The initial test of this track met with failure, and a hole 22km long was left where there had been a train. The Russians merely disassembled the trains and pulled them across with horse power.

   It was finally possible to travel from one end to the other in 1904, via a line through Manchuria.  The last link was finished in 1916, a bridge over the Amur River at Khabarovsk.

   The railway came to be the major link that held Russia together through years of war and revolution. Even the rise of air travel and the demise of the Soviet system has not diminished its importance. There is still no road that cars and trucks can take through Siberia, and rail remains the only viable option for heavy freight.

   For the first four days travel out of Moscow, all three lines follow the same double-track main line through the Urals and into western Siberia, over the Yenisey River (which marks the border of eastern Siberia) and on to Irkutsk. The fifth day sees the train rounding the southern tip of Lake Baikal. This is where the Trans-Mongolian branches off, heading for the border 250 km away. The Trans-Manchurian stays with the main line for another 12 hours, until it too heads south-east for Zaibaikalsk, 368 km distant.

   Every carriage has a timetable in Cyrillic, the Russian alphabet. I got pretty good at deciphering the place names, so that I could tell when we were approaching any significant stops.  This is important if you want to eat and drink cheaply. The timetables are not set in stone, and a stop may be shortened if the train is running late.

   The provodnik or conductor, will usually keep an eye out for the passengers riding in his/her car, and herd them aboard when departure time rolls around.

   Usually the train stops for about 15 or 20 minutes, allowing time to stretch the legs and raid the kiosks for food. There are small white kilometre posts along the railway line, marking the distance from Moscow.

The Vladivostok Terminal

   My Vladivostok travel agent picked me up at my hotel, and took me down to the train station for the 5:30 PM departure time.

A local Vladivostok commuter train

The Trans-Siberian's locomotive

West-bound train on the left,

east-bound on the right.

   The train itself is very colourful. It is painted to resemble the Russian flag: white on top, then blue and finally red. Each car has the name of the train "Russia" (in Cyrillic) emblazoned at the top. My ticket cost 6, 045 rubles (about $200 US). I boarded car 20, and met the providnitsa, the two (female) attendants, who would work 12 hour shifts, turn and about, to look after everyone on the car.    I was taken to compartment VIII, which had four berths. It was fairly narrow, but there was more than enough room for my two bags in a bin under my berth.  Anyone trying to steal my stuff while I slept would have to lift up the place where I was sleeping.

   My berth was number 17, which was the lower one towards the front of the train. It meant that, while sitting, I would be facing towards the places we had come from. Jerry Seinfeld enjoys sitting like this. He says it's like going back in time.

   I was alone in the compartment when the train departed (bang on time), and I amused myself by watching Vladivostok pass by. Soon we were heading north, with Amursky Bay on the left, and rolling farmland on the right.

The train leaving Vladivostok

   The "Lonely Planet" guide warned me to beware of the dining car's high prices and poor quality, but I nevertheless made my way there for my first meal. I was seated at a table with another gentleman, who introduced himself as Alec (or Oleg). We chatted while I ate, and I counted myself fortunate to run into someone who spoke English. After a bit we retired to my compartment to imbibe a little of the local vodka. We found another passenger installed in the bunk opposite mine. He was an older gentleman, and his name turned out to be, coincidentally, Alec. He had no English, but the first Alec was happy enough to act as translator.

   Soon it was time to retire. The providnitsa had supplied sheets, a pillow, a blanket, and a towel (for a nominal cost). I had brought my own, but was unable to face up to the formidable "Russian" face when I was asked to fork over the bread.

   I was awakened during the middle of the night by the arrival of another passenger, who was making up one of the upper berths. In the morning he introduced himself as - Alec. I had met three Russian men on this train, and all three had the same name.  

   This was going to be a very interesting trip.