Ok, Newsflash.. we have decided at the last minute to change our route and head to new lands!
Our plan was to head to the furthest Russian city of Vladivostok and into China from there, but due to a number of reasons (visa problems - we would have to stay in vlad for 6 days, cost - accommodation is beaucoup $$$, and distance - 3.5 days on the train which we didnt mind but just to visit another Russian city we could use the cash for better things)
Although we would have liked to go we feel that the cost involved is disproportionate to what we would get out from the trip. We were only really going because I wanted to say we have travelled the whole distance on the railway and to visit the Russian far East. We have realised that Russia's beauty more often that not lies in its countryside and not its cities! The Cities have been fun but its a long way to go just to visit another one!
Now we are heading South from Ulan Ude into the land of Ghengis Khan. Tomorrow we will visit the Mongolian Consulate (a great big purple building with some kind of domed hat shaped roof) to pick up our visas and will catch a bus to the boarder on Tuesday Morning. Hopefully by the evening we will have made it to Ulan Baator, Mongolia's Capitol, where we will find our bearings and head out to the famous countryside and hopefully the big bad Gobi!
More to follow...
Sunday, 24 February 2008
This picture was kindly sent to us by Pieter who we met in Lviv... Taken on our all night drinking trip to the bunker... This picture is the best because you can see the two strange randoms we picked up in the night. One, the big hairy man on the far left of the table was some kind of hypersensitve IRA member who although had completely 'out there' opinions would move table and sit on his own if he thought he had offended someone. But only after spending half an hour trying to apologise in a very thick drunk Irish accent. It was quite annoying, we called him hagrid. The other man was from Ukraine and loved JR Tolkein, he had every available recording of it on his phone. He also seemed to know absolutely everything about the history of the UK which was quite impressive, but overall was equally as weird as the Irish man. We also had a man from Barrow the furthest town north in Alaska, A girl from Croatia, an American then Pieter and Julia from Belgium and Germany who were all very nice!
It was a funny night!
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Arrival at Ulan Ude
Hi All. We have made it to Ulan Ude which was a quick 8 hour journey from Irkutsk. The views were amazing as the train followed the Southern Shores of the lake before travelling up a vast river valley. Many large bridges and for the first time so far some tunnels.
We had a bit of a mission finding somewhere to stay, not for a lack of hotels, but because they were all charging extortionate rates. They are all vast concrete blocks with awful interiors but were expecting a minium of 50 pounds per night, this of course is because we are English. We managed to find a hotel with a single room for a more sensible amount, the room is like a museum piece. Our favorate item is the radio - it only has an on off switch so you have no choice of radio station, only the one it is pre-set to!
There is not too much in Ulan Ude but its a nice place (if you ignore the huge smoking chimneys on the horizon). We have spent the afternoon admiring the worlds biggest Lenin head (its huge) and fur shopping. We have just tried to brave the hectic Russian Post office but couldnt make any sense of the 'system' they were using so will try again tomorrow morning when it is hopefully more quiet.
Today is 'Mens Day' where the country celabrates people who have been in the military (we think) and who still are. We also think (if we have read the sign properly) that there will be some kind of military parade tomorrow which should be interesting. We are now off to find the Buryat history museum and a museum about Russia in Afghanistan.
Tomorrow evening we have our 3.5 day journey to Vladivostok where we will 10 hours ahead of the UK which is a strange thought!
We had a bit of a mission finding somewhere to stay, not for a lack of hotels, but because they were all charging extortionate rates. They are all vast concrete blocks with awful interiors but were expecting a minium of 50 pounds per night, this of course is because we are English. We managed to find a hotel with a single room for a more sensible amount, the room is like a museum piece. Our favorate item is the radio - it only has an on off switch so you have no choice of radio station, only the one it is pre-set to!
There is not too much in Ulan Ude but its a nice place (if you ignore the huge smoking chimneys on the horizon). We have spent the afternoon admiring the worlds biggest Lenin head (its huge) and fur shopping. We have just tried to brave the hectic Russian Post office but couldnt make any sense of the 'system' they were using so will try again tomorrow morning when it is hopefully more quiet.
Today is 'Mens Day' where the country celabrates people who have been in the military (we think) and who still are. We also think (if we have read the sign properly) that there will be some kind of military parade tomorrow which should be interesting. We are now off to find the Buryat history museum and a museum about Russia in Afghanistan.
Tomorrow evening we have our 3.5 day journey to Vladivostok where we will 10 hours ahead of the UK which is a strange thought!
Our best friend Roman
This is our friend Roman from Kazakstan. We had a really fun night with him... please note the lack of items on the table as they are now strewn about the floor. This was one of the few times he was facing the wall and had his legs together!
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
Quick update!
Hi All, we have just uploaded a few (slight understatment) pictures onto the flickr page if you want to check them out. Also we both appologise about the essays we have written on this page, you'll be happy to know we will be out of touch again for a week or two as we head further East into Russia and then hopefully across into China at some point (this part we have not quite figured out yet!), so you have plenty of time to read it all!
We hope you are all very well!
Love Samrah xx
We hope you are all very well!
Love Samrah xx
Irkutsk - Lake Baikal
Luckily we had learnt from Hotel Iren and had good directions to our hostel Irkutsk, which we found no problems. Arriving in the hostel, we were the only ones there. There was another (Italian) guy staying but he was out for the evening. We dumped our stuff and went out on the hunt for some food. We found a Cafe/Bar that we went to, only to find it was the most expensive, trendy bar we have been in so far. A swift beer later we made an exit and continued our search. There were 24 hr off-licenses and 24 hr flower shops but no 24 hr eateries anywhere near. So we stopped of at the local shop and brought some weird sandwiches and two small pizzas which got made luke warm in a rubbish microwave before we took them back. The Italian turned up at 6am, a slight stumble into bed. At about 10am the Italian was up again for breakfast. His name was Paolo.
Our first day in Irkutsk and we went for a wander, down to the main street – Karl Marx street (We are surprised that the cities still keep these names. There is still a Karl Max street and Lenin street in every city, always in the centre). Irkutsk is supposed the be the ‘Paris of Siberia’ and I can see what they mean, lovely architecture and Ulitsa Karl Marx is a big tree lined boulevard with trendy, expensive shops and boutiques. We came across a Blini vendor so enjoyed a cheese blini (the only relevant food word we could remember). Blini is a Russian version of crepes, so think thin pancake loaded with melted cheese – tasty! The good thing about this was the receipt listed all the possible ingredients with the cheese circled.
We then continued around past a large stadium and down the river. This was very pretty, and with the sides still frozen people were walking their dogs or just relaxing out on this snowy frozen river front. We then walked back along the river to our hostel. We stopped off in an underground bar just by the hostel for a few cheeky beers, we also got out our blini receipt and translated all the ingredients, in preparation for tomorrows lunch – Shashlik, chocolate pasta, ham, nuts, raisins, ground meat, tar-tar sauce to name but a few. Not a vegetable or salad in sight.
We headed back to the hostel. Another guy and arrived in this time, an American by the name of David. Paolo had persuaded him out to a local nightclub, and pretty soon persuaded us too. So a quick change and a couple more beers later we set off.
The club was a strange place, there was a pen of chickens with some locals dressed in traditional attire at the entrance followed by a super complicated method of paying for drinks which involved paying a woman in a kiosk to get credits to hand over for your drinks. The club itself was hilarious with Russians doing some very crazy dancing and odd interludes for strippers, which was a bit of a shock. We had unfortunately all decided to spend the night looking flash and drinking Russian champagne (£2.00 a bottle) which really screwed us over the next day! Anyway, much randomness occurred in this establishment, and the walk home was exceedingly cold, at least -20. Sarah and I took a walk along the edge of the frozen river, really amazing as the whole area was choked by a thick fog, it wasn’t possible to see the river and all you could hear were the ice bergs creaking and grating as they flowed past.
Day two in Irkutsk started slowly as we were all suffering the after effects of awful Russian Champagne, just an easy walk in the afternoon to gather supplies for our trip to Baikal and check out some of the old buildings. Traditional Siberian houses are made of wood and don’t seem to age too well! Irkutsk has many traditional old wooden buildings and many of them have sunk into the ground in some cases up to the windows. Some have only sunk on one side so the house is wonky, one house we saw the stairs were almost at a 45 degree angle, some have sunk to the point they have fallen apart. Many of the wooden houses have beautiful carved windows and doors with bright painted trim – a complete contrast to the many Stalinist concrete blocks. We haven’t figured out why the buildings would have sunk as we are not in a permafrost area where the heat of the building melts the frozen ground beneath making it sink or collapse.
Day three we were up early to catch a bus to the tiny village of Litvyanka, about an hour from Irkutsk and on the shores of Lake Baikal. Truly amazing.
Ok, so first the facts… The lake itself is bigger than Belgium and Denmark, its 1.6km deep at its deepest part (worlds deepest lake), it contains 20% of the worlds freshwater, it contains more water than all 5 of the US great lakes combined, its 636 km long, 60km wide, contains over 1000 flora and fauna species of which 80% are endemic including the only freshwater seals… blah blah blah, we could go on forever.
Without stating the obvious its really huge! At the moment its completely frozen, the ice is at least a meter thick so you could in theory walk or drive from one side to the other. From the shore though it looked as if only parts were frozen, but when we jumped down onto the ice the parts that looked as if they were not frozen were in fact crystal clear ice. So clear that you could see all the way to the bottom which must have been over 10 meters until it became too dark. It really was an amazing feeling standing on the completely frozen lake, looking out over what could have been the Arctic, just endless ice with ridges and chunks sticking up all over the place, boats frozen in situ until the Spring.
As we arrived on Sunday there were quite a few Russians day tripping from Irkutsk which gave the village a real sea side/ beach feel. People were pick-nicking (despite the -12 temp) and playing on the ice as if it were a beach. It was also possible to drive directly onto the ice so many Russian men were drinking and driving up and down spinning their cars out of control etc… It was also possible to hire skidoo’s or quads to drive up and down.
The novelty really didn’t wear off all day, we walked about three miles one way past a frozen small port with old abandoned boats and then three miles the other way to the village museum all along the ice, constantly skidding, sliding, jumping and smashing chunks of ice. Every now and then there would be an almighty cracking or groaning sound as the ice expanded. It was absolutely amazing.
We (Myself, Sarah, David & two other English guys) managed to organise a home stay in an old wooden house, we were lucky as the owners lived elsewhere so we were really renting a small cottage in a sleepy little valley. The cottage was essentially a log cabin and was about as rustic as you could get. It had a cooker but only two rings worked, when you turned them on the single electric light dimmed. There was fortunately an inside toilet (the temp plummeted at night) and a fire which helped heat the two bedrooms and main room of the hut. The front room was so cold that our beers all froze overnight and the plates had to be de-frosted before we could use them! We actually had to de-frost all the plates as they had all stuck together, amazing.
The second day in the village was so quiet. We really had the place to ourselves and the weather was stunning – deep blue skies but still freezing cold. We spent this day walking up into the woods and generally exploring and taking photos. After another night in the log cabin the weather had started to take its toll on our health, everyone has painful coughs and dry throats and blocked noses, so today we decided to come back to Irkutsk. The buddies Sarah mentioned before have left today for either Moscow or Ulan Ude leaving us on our own once again in the hostel.
Tomorrow is a day of washing and sorting things out before out next rail adventures. All our fingers and toes are crossed that we have decent cabin buddies!
Our first day in Irkutsk and we went for a wander, down to the main street – Karl Marx street (We are surprised that the cities still keep these names. There is still a Karl Max street and Lenin street in every city, always in the centre). Irkutsk is supposed the be the ‘Paris of Siberia’ and I can see what they mean, lovely architecture and Ulitsa Karl Marx is a big tree lined boulevard with trendy, expensive shops and boutiques. We came across a Blini vendor so enjoyed a cheese blini (the only relevant food word we could remember). Blini is a Russian version of crepes, so think thin pancake loaded with melted cheese – tasty! The good thing about this was the receipt listed all the possible ingredients with the cheese circled.
We then continued around past a large stadium and down the river. This was very pretty, and with the sides still frozen people were walking their dogs or just relaxing out on this snowy frozen river front. We then walked back along the river to our hostel. We stopped off in an underground bar just by the hostel for a few cheeky beers, we also got out our blini receipt and translated all the ingredients, in preparation for tomorrows lunch – Shashlik, chocolate pasta, ham, nuts, raisins, ground meat, tar-tar sauce to name but a few. Not a vegetable or salad in sight.
We headed back to the hostel. Another guy and arrived in this time, an American by the name of David. Paolo had persuaded him out to a local nightclub, and pretty soon persuaded us too. So a quick change and a couple more beers later we set off.
The club was a strange place, there was a pen of chickens with some locals dressed in traditional attire at the entrance followed by a super complicated method of paying for drinks which involved paying a woman in a kiosk to get credits to hand over for your drinks. The club itself was hilarious with Russians doing some very crazy dancing and odd interludes for strippers, which was a bit of a shock. We had unfortunately all decided to spend the night looking flash and drinking Russian champagne (£2.00 a bottle) which really screwed us over the next day! Anyway, much randomness occurred in this establishment, and the walk home was exceedingly cold, at least -20. Sarah and I took a walk along the edge of the frozen river, really amazing as the whole area was choked by a thick fog, it wasn’t possible to see the river and all you could hear were the ice bergs creaking and grating as they flowed past.
Day two in Irkutsk started slowly as we were all suffering the after effects of awful Russian Champagne, just an easy walk in the afternoon to gather supplies for our trip to Baikal and check out some of the old buildings. Traditional Siberian houses are made of wood and don’t seem to age too well! Irkutsk has many traditional old wooden buildings and many of them have sunk into the ground in some cases up to the windows. Some have only sunk on one side so the house is wonky, one house we saw the stairs were almost at a 45 degree angle, some have sunk to the point they have fallen apart. Many of the wooden houses have beautiful carved windows and doors with bright painted trim – a complete contrast to the many Stalinist concrete blocks. We haven’t figured out why the buildings would have sunk as we are not in a permafrost area where the heat of the building melts the frozen ground beneath making it sink or collapse.
Day three we were up early to catch a bus to the tiny village of Litvyanka, about an hour from Irkutsk and on the shores of Lake Baikal. Truly amazing.
Ok, so first the facts… The lake itself is bigger than Belgium and Denmark, its 1.6km deep at its deepest part (worlds deepest lake), it contains 20% of the worlds freshwater, it contains more water than all 5 of the US great lakes combined, its 636 km long, 60km wide, contains over 1000 flora and fauna species of which 80% are endemic including the only freshwater seals… blah blah blah, we could go on forever.
Without stating the obvious its really huge! At the moment its completely frozen, the ice is at least a meter thick so you could in theory walk or drive from one side to the other. From the shore though it looked as if only parts were frozen, but when we jumped down onto the ice the parts that looked as if they were not frozen were in fact crystal clear ice. So clear that you could see all the way to the bottom which must have been over 10 meters until it became too dark. It really was an amazing feeling standing on the completely frozen lake, looking out over what could have been the Arctic, just endless ice with ridges and chunks sticking up all over the place, boats frozen in situ until the Spring.
As we arrived on Sunday there were quite a few Russians day tripping from Irkutsk which gave the village a real sea side/ beach feel. People were pick-nicking (despite the -12 temp) and playing on the ice as if it were a beach. It was also possible to drive directly onto the ice so many Russian men were drinking and driving up and down spinning their cars out of control etc… It was also possible to hire skidoo’s or quads to drive up and down.
The novelty really didn’t wear off all day, we walked about three miles one way past a frozen small port with old abandoned boats and then three miles the other way to the village museum all along the ice, constantly skidding, sliding, jumping and smashing chunks of ice. Every now and then there would be an almighty cracking or groaning sound as the ice expanded. It was absolutely amazing.
We (Myself, Sarah, David & two other English guys) managed to organise a home stay in an old wooden house, we were lucky as the owners lived elsewhere so we were really renting a small cottage in a sleepy little valley. The cottage was essentially a log cabin and was about as rustic as you could get. It had a cooker but only two rings worked, when you turned them on the single electric light dimmed. There was fortunately an inside toilet (the temp plummeted at night) and a fire which helped heat the two bedrooms and main room of the hut. The front room was so cold that our beers all froze overnight and the plates had to be de-frosted before we could use them! We actually had to de-frost all the plates as they had all stuck together, amazing.
The second day in the village was so quiet. We really had the place to ourselves and the weather was stunning – deep blue skies but still freezing cold. We spent this day walking up into the woods and generally exploring and taking photos. After another night in the log cabin the weather had started to take its toll on our health, everyone has painful coughs and dry throats and blocked noses, so today we decided to come back to Irkutsk. The buddies Sarah mentioned before have left today for either Moscow or Ulan Ude leaving us on our own once again in the hostel.
Tomorrow is a day of washing and sorting things out before out next rail adventures. All our fingers and toes are crossed that we have decent cabin buddies!
Kungur and the Ice Caves
Our arrival at Kungur was definitely our first real step outside our comfort zone. The local time was 07:46. There was no sign of daylight in the sky. Due to the darkness and the hour (considering we wanted to find and check into the hotel) we decided to hang around in the station waiting room for an hour or so. We plonked ourselves down only to find we were looking at a sea of staring faces. We did manage to attract the attention however of one person. Another drunk. It was about 8am and this guy stunk of vodka. He must have been about our age, and after some drunken ramblings we gathered that his sister was in France, she went to a lot of countries (European air hostess perhaps?) and he was either a student or woodcutter. We were hoping student, as he was either off to drunkenly sit in a class or operate heavy machinery… We escaped to the train station café to get a good old cup of tea to start us off for the day. This was also the café for the dregs who needed their 8am beer before slurring their way out of the train station and heading off to work.
We had instructions to find Hotel Iren; get on bus number one for two stops, get off and it should be there. Armed with these detailed instructions and no map we loaded ourselves onto minibus no 1 (taking up most of the room with all our stuff). We bundled off, much to the relief of the cramped locals, at the second stop. As the bus drove away we both had the rising sense that this was too easy. There was now more light in the sky as Sam and I headed off down the street looking for Hotel Iren. It was a cold wind, snowing and very icy. We walked up and down for a bit, I then went to ask directions and got a short description, which I took to mean ‘down that way and there is a big sign above it’. So with renewed vigour we set off again. To no avail. We then go into the supermarket to ask. I managed to pick the most yokel person; she understood what I said but when she set of with her toothless Russian directions I was totally lost, I understood nothing! Apart from there is a sign above it (made clear by arm waving). We were by this point getting pretty cold and had blue fingers. So Sam left me with the bags in the supermarket and set out down the street again, asking someone else on the way back, with not much luck either. In the end we found a taxi and jumped in. No wonder we couldn’t bloody find it, it was a good couple of km away down a big hill, a few left and rights and there it was (with a small sign next to the door). The next challenge on this day was getting our room for the correct price. The dragon behind the desk was started off charging us R1200 - more expensive than the price list - on the desk - in front of us. So Sam had a moan, more calculator tapping R1280, louder moaning, ‘tap-tap-tap’ R1500!! By this point Sam was blue in the face and was too angry to speak. Eventually we wrestled the price back down to R1040 (which was still R250 more than the price printed directly in front of us, but because this was the only joint in town we had no choice, something she clearly knew) and so we gave her R1020 before walking off with the key and listening out for the soviet tutting and sighing.
Russian hotels, to put it bluntly, are really really crap. We realise that’s a sweeping statement, and I’m sure there are great ones in Moscow and St Petersburg, but the vast majority are rubbish. For a start there is a complete lack of, or care, for customer service. You walk into the reception (same in the shops) and the woman behind the desk will just sit and stare at the computer. They try their hardest to imagine that you are not there… no movement, no blinking - look dead ahead now… if I cant see them then they cant see me! When they do acknowledge you its with a stare and not words. Then there is the pricing, overcharged as foreigners even if the price is written in black and white in front of you and the amount you pay even as a Russian is no way relative to the quality, they are grossly overpriced for what you get. Russian hotels, even if they are empty, will not bargain on price, they would rather the room was empty than offer it at a reduced rate.
Once you have paid you then have the effort of getting the key. If you are lucky the grumpy cow at the reception desk gives it to you, otherwise you are given a small piece of paper which you have to exchange with the floor babushka, another grumpy miserable woman who is the protector of your floor.
Then what really put Russian hotels above all other hotels is the décor. Russian hotel designers really are crazy cats… they manage to pair colours and fabrics that no sane person would ever dare attempt. I can’t really begin to describe the shocking interior of this particular establishment (unfortunately we didn’t take photos) but it involved bright lime green walls, bright red furniture with a really wild leopard skin blanket complete with large picture of a leopard in the middle. Also the amount of static in the place is enough to start an electrical storm. If you were to think of the wildest most disgusting interior design plans gone wrong, then there is probably a hotel in Russia that looks like it.
Staying in hotels in Russia is defiantly an experience.
After catching up on a few Z’s (after our previous sleepless night on the train with stinky guy) we donned the long johns for the first time and head out to check what Kungur was like. It seemed to be market day and the streets were busy with fur-clad locals milling around. The goods on offer were very different to what we had been seeing in Moscow, most stalls were selling old Lada parts, basic foodstuffs or what looked like junk from people’s attics. The town was established as a trading town in the 17th Century and at the time was quite important, with grand wooden buildings. The town now has about 63000 people (Guildford has 66000 apparently) and is quiet with a run down feel to it. It spans a river that was completely frozen over. Although the population is close to Guildford size, the amount of shops and commerce area is much less, and the few shops that were there were not labelled or signed so you had no idea what was about. Our first impressions where what the hell are we doing here in this hick town… we couldn’t find anywhere to eat and the locals seemed a little hostile. Most frustratingly it took ages to find a bar!
Kungur definitely grew on us. After waking up the following morning with a bit of a hangover we showered (last one for three days!) and left our bags at reception. Bus number 9 took us out to the edge of town and the conductor kicked us out in the middle of nowhere, pointing to the other side of the road, which we assumed was where the ice caves must be. A short walk down a hill and we came across hotel stalagmite, a huge communist style monster of a hotel right next to the entrance of the ice caves. We stopped off for a quick cuppa in the deserted hotel (which charges over $200 to stay) before heading off in the direction of the caves. After paying we were taken down into the caves by the site engineer who could speak a small amount of English. The ice crystals were formed by (relatively) warm air coming out of the cave and hitting cool air entering, the formations and shapes were amazing, as was the fact that it doesn’t change all year. The cave also has numerous stalactites and mites made of ice and a large frozen waterfall, all of which remain frozen year round. The cave system was about 10km in total of which we were able to explore about 2km, some on our hands and knees through some tight squeezes! Deeper underground the temperature remained at a constant 9oC with the water forming huge crystal clear lakes, all very beautiful. We were shown a laser show in one of the larger grottos that explained the formation on the ice caves (battle between the god of water and god of the mountain) and its more recent history. After this actually pretty good show we were then proudly introduced to a fully decked out Christmas tree, which had been proudly sitting underground for seven years! Due to the cold and clean air is hadn’t decayed (just gone a sickly pale green and was looking a bit worse for wear).
After our short term as cave dwelling creatures we caught the bus back into town to grab some food before our train at 2am.
In the restaurant/bar that evening Sarah and I discussed many things, one of which being how Russian women don’t seem to drink much and that we hadn’t seen any drunk. Once again we had spoken too soon as we noticed the three mature women on the table behind us were not having a relaxing time drinking mineral water as we had originally thought but were in fact knocking back whole water glasses of vodka. By 17.30 they were so drunk they were missing their mouths and stumbling all over the place. One feature of every Russian restaurant we have been to so far is they all have a dance floor or an area that can be cleaned to act as a dance floor, and some huge speakers with disco lights. Often when we go out to eat we are blasted by stupidly loud awful music. The music usually starts a little later in the evening and always happens regardless of how few people there are and regardless if they clearly want to sit and talk. The women who were blind drunk asked for the music to be turned up to a stupid volume and proceeded to dance some crazy moves up and down between the tables even though there was only us and one other table of people in the room. It was very funny but annoying if you are trying to eat, especially as every two minutes they were trying to get me to dance with them. One of these dancers clearly thought she was a cheerleader or pole dancer as she was gyrating her pelvis all around us, which wasn’t the nicest thing.
After a long wait at the station we boarded our train, unfortunately yet again we were with another person who had clearly drunk far too much. Our tickets were third class as it was only a 10 hour journey; our roomy for this journey truly was the most disgusting person in the world. He was so drunk he couldn’t see and smelt so bad it was unreal. If you imagine the smell you get when you walk past the local village tramp, someone who clearly hasn’t washed in months and really smells like they have soiled themselves then you are halfway there. It was my turn for the bottom bunk and to endure the stench of this vile person. The guy also happened to have some kind of bronchitis or chest problem, so every five minutes he would erupt into fits of hacking and coughing which would blow the most putrid air in our direction. This vile person kept trying to drink, smoked all night despite his obvious health problems and was truly an awful person. We have never been kept up all night just by a smell before so this was a first. It really was another level having to sleep so close to someone that was so disgusting and clearly didn’t care about himself. At one point I was going to throw his shoes out of the window. The stench, the burping, the hacking his diseased air over us, the obscene drunkenness and the smell of his soiled clothes really made it a bad night. At 6am he was still drinking. Fortunately the stop 3 hours before ours was a big city, most of the carriage departed the train so we went and found clean bunks in a nice smelling area.
We had a day in Tuymen, which was ok. Not really much there but we had a chance to stock up on fast food at a KFC type establishment and check out some ice sculptures in the town square. We just wasted time waiting for our train at 20.00.
Fortunately our roommates on the next journey were friendly, clean and sober people. The second day we had the cabin all to ourselves, which was very nice and relaxing. The journey was the longest so far, 46 hours, but the time fly’s’ - games of cards, chess, eating, having a beer, amusing the provodniks with our bad Russian, watching the scenery and reading.
At 22.45 local time, 5 hours ahead of Moscow and 8 hours ahead of London we stepped onto Irkutsk station and breathed in the -16 degree air… ouch!
We had instructions to find Hotel Iren; get on bus number one for two stops, get off and it should be there. Armed with these detailed instructions and no map we loaded ourselves onto minibus no 1 (taking up most of the room with all our stuff). We bundled off, much to the relief of the cramped locals, at the second stop. As the bus drove away we both had the rising sense that this was too easy. There was now more light in the sky as Sam and I headed off down the street looking for Hotel Iren. It was a cold wind, snowing and very icy. We walked up and down for a bit, I then went to ask directions and got a short description, which I took to mean ‘down that way and there is a big sign above it’. So with renewed vigour we set off again. To no avail. We then go into the supermarket to ask. I managed to pick the most yokel person; she understood what I said but when she set of with her toothless Russian directions I was totally lost, I understood nothing! Apart from there is a sign above it (made clear by arm waving). We were by this point getting pretty cold and had blue fingers. So Sam left me with the bags in the supermarket and set out down the street again, asking someone else on the way back, with not much luck either. In the end we found a taxi and jumped in. No wonder we couldn’t bloody find it, it was a good couple of km away down a big hill, a few left and rights and there it was (with a small sign next to the door). The next challenge on this day was getting our room for the correct price. The dragon behind the desk was started off charging us R1200 - more expensive than the price list - on the desk - in front of us. So Sam had a moan, more calculator tapping R1280, louder moaning, ‘tap-tap-tap’ R1500!! By this point Sam was blue in the face and was too angry to speak. Eventually we wrestled the price back down to R1040 (which was still R250 more than the price printed directly in front of us, but because this was the only joint in town we had no choice, something she clearly knew) and so we gave her R1020 before walking off with the key and listening out for the soviet tutting and sighing.
Russian hotels, to put it bluntly, are really really crap. We realise that’s a sweeping statement, and I’m sure there are great ones in Moscow and St Petersburg, but the vast majority are rubbish. For a start there is a complete lack of, or care, for customer service. You walk into the reception (same in the shops) and the woman behind the desk will just sit and stare at the computer. They try their hardest to imagine that you are not there… no movement, no blinking - look dead ahead now… if I cant see them then they cant see me! When they do acknowledge you its with a stare and not words. Then there is the pricing, overcharged as foreigners even if the price is written in black and white in front of you and the amount you pay even as a Russian is no way relative to the quality, they are grossly overpriced for what you get. Russian hotels, even if they are empty, will not bargain on price, they would rather the room was empty than offer it at a reduced rate.
Once you have paid you then have the effort of getting the key. If you are lucky the grumpy cow at the reception desk gives it to you, otherwise you are given a small piece of paper which you have to exchange with the floor babushka, another grumpy miserable woman who is the protector of your floor.
Then what really put Russian hotels above all other hotels is the décor. Russian hotel designers really are crazy cats… they manage to pair colours and fabrics that no sane person would ever dare attempt. I can’t really begin to describe the shocking interior of this particular establishment (unfortunately we didn’t take photos) but it involved bright lime green walls, bright red furniture with a really wild leopard skin blanket complete with large picture of a leopard in the middle. Also the amount of static in the place is enough to start an electrical storm. If you were to think of the wildest most disgusting interior design plans gone wrong, then there is probably a hotel in Russia that looks like it.
Staying in hotels in Russia is defiantly an experience.
After catching up on a few Z’s (after our previous sleepless night on the train with stinky guy) we donned the long johns for the first time and head out to check what Kungur was like. It seemed to be market day and the streets were busy with fur-clad locals milling around. The goods on offer were very different to what we had been seeing in Moscow, most stalls were selling old Lada parts, basic foodstuffs or what looked like junk from people’s attics. The town was established as a trading town in the 17th Century and at the time was quite important, with grand wooden buildings. The town now has about 63000 people (Guildford has 66000 apparently) and is quiet with a run down feel to it. It spans a river that was completely frozen over. Although the population is close to Guildford size, the amount of shops and commerce area is much less, and the few shops that were there were not labelled or signed so you had no idea what was about. Our first impressions where what the hell are we doing here in this hick town… we couldn’t find anywhere to eat and the locals seemed a little hostile. Most frustratingly it took ages to find a bar!
Kungur definitely grew on us. After waking up the following morning with a bit of a hangover we showered (last one for three days!) and left our bags at reception. Bus number 9 took us out to the edge of town and the conductor kicked us out in the middle of nowhere, pointing to the other side of the road, which we assumed was where the ice caves must be. A short walk down a hill and we came across hotel stalagmite, a huge communist style monster of a hotel right next to the entrance of the ice caves. We stopped off for a quick cuppa in the deserted hotel (which charges over $200 to stay) before heading off in the direction of the caves. After paying we were taken down into the caves by the site engineer who could speak a small amount of English. The ice crystals were formed by (relatively) warm air coming out of the cave and hitting cool air entering, the formations and shapes were amazing, as was the fact that it doesn’t change all year. The cave also has numerous stalactites and mites made of ice and a large frozen waterfall, all of which remain frozen year round. The cave system was about 10km in total of which we were able to explore about 2km, some on our hands and knees through some tight squeezes! Deeper underground the temperature remained at a constant 9oC with the water forming huge crystal clear lakes, all very beautiful. We were shown a laser show in one of the larger grottos that explained the formation on the ice caves (battle between the god of water and god of the mountain) and its more recent history. After this actually pretty good show we were then proudly introduced to a fully decked out Christmas tree, which had been proudly sitting underground for seven years! Due to the cold and clean air is hadn’t decayed (just gone a sickly pale green and was looking a bit worse for wear).
After our short term as cave dwelling creatures we caught the bus back into town to grab some food before our train at 2am.
In the restaurant/bar that evening Sarah and I discussed many things, one of which being how Russian women don’t seem to drink much and that we hadn’t seen any drunk. Once again we had spoken too soon as we noticed the three mature women on the table behind us were not having a relaxing time drinking mineral water as we had originally thought but were in fact knocking back whole water glasses of vodka. By 17.30 they were so drunk they were missing their mouths and stumbling all over the place. One feature of every Russian restaurant we have been to so far is they all have a dance floor or an area that can be cleaned to act as a dance floor, and some huge speakers with disco lights. Often when we go out to eat we are blasted by stupidly loud awful music. The music usually starts a little later in the evening and always happens regardless of how few people there are and regardless if they clearly want to sit and talk. The women who were blind drunk asked for the music to be turned up to a stupid volume and proceeded to dance some crazy moves up and down between the tables even though there was only us and one other table of people in the room. It was very funny but annoying if you are trying to eat, especially as every two minutes they were trying to get me to dance with them. One of these dancers clearly thought she was a cheerleader or pole dancer as she was gyrating her pelvis all around us, which wasn’t the nicest thing.
After a long wait at the station we boarded our train, unfortunately yet again we were with another person who had clearly drunk far too much. Our tickets were third class as it was only a 10 hour journey; our roomy for this journey truly was the most disgusting person in the world. He was so drunk he couldn’t see and smelt so bad it was unreal. If you imagine the smell you get when you walk past the local village tramp, someone who clearly hasn’t washed in months and really smells like they have soiled themselves then you are halfway there. It was my turn for the bottom bunk and to endure the stench of this vile person. The guy also happened to have some kind of bronchitis or chest problem, so every five minutes he would erupt into fits of hacking and coughing which would blow the most putrid air in our direction. This vile person kept trying to drink, smoked all night despite his obvious health problems and was truly an awful person. We have never been kept up all night just by a smell before so this was a first. It really was another level having to sleep so close to someone that was so disgusting and clearly didn’t care about himself. At one point I was going to throw his shoes out of the window. The stench, the burping, the hacking his diseased air over us, the obscene drunkenness and the smell of his soiled clothes really made it a bad night. At 6am he was still drinking. Fortunately the stop 3 hours before ours was a big city, most of the carriage departed the train so we went and found clean bunks in a nice smelling area.
We had a day in Tuymen, which was ok. Not really much there but we had a chance to stock up on fast food at a KFC type establishment and check out some ice sculptures in the town square. We just wasted time waiting for our train at 20.00.
Fortunately our roommates on the next journey were friendly, clean and sober people. The second day we had the cabin all to ourselves, which was very nice and relaxing. The journey was the longest so far, 46 hours, but the time fly’s’ - games of cards, chess, eating, having a beer, amusing the provodniks with our bad Russian, watching the scenery and reading.
At 22.45 local time, 5 hours ahead of Moscow and 8 hours ahead of London we stepped onto Irkutsk station and breathed in the -16 degree air… ouch!
Moscow to Kungur – two’s company, three is a stinking cabin.
Our train was leaving Moscow at 00.35, so after a frantic rush to leave the hostel and say our goodbyes to the people we got to know we decided to jump into a taxi and not wrestle with the metro one last time.
We had, that morning, much to the arm waving (really she was) shouting and annoyance of the ticket lady, upgraded our tickets to Kupe for this first leg of our journey. Kupe is second class, so instead of sharing with 50 people, you are in separated cabins of 4 berths, and because the Kupe ticket is more than twice the price of the Platz (third class) ticket you should, in theory, have a more comfortable ride…. We had decided to upgrade because a) we had some money to spare after being so under budget on our 1st leg, and b) just wanted to be able to enjoy the journey a little more, relax and take in the scenery, which is all a little more difficult in the more hectic Platz class… oh if only we knew what we had in store for us and what a nightmare it was going to be.
After arriving at the station we picked up some supplies at a shop (beer, instant mashed potatoes, instant noodles… a combination which has unfortunately become a bit of a staple diet..), found our train (A very smart train heading all the way to Ulan Ude), showed out ticket to get past the growling Provodnick before finally squeezing down the corridor to our cabin. After stowing our bags we sat down to introduce ourselves to the third person in our cabin; Roman from Kazakstan (Yashamash!) who we think was a travelling salesman. He took goods to St Petersburg then travelled back to start the process again, the journey from Kazakstan to St.P’burg is about 5-6 days, how the man had any money left when he got home we have no idea. We had been drinking a few beers before the train, as had Roman so conversation via the phrasebook flowed freely aided by another beer or two. We learnt that Roman had been making this commute for 7 years, his wife didn’t like it too much, he had two sons one which had played Canada at ice hockey at some point (he had a treasured Canada maple leaf biro… something that would play a part in later events).
Eventualy when we were all bored of grunting sounds at each other we made our beds and settled down. Although the carriage still only had soviet style heating, one temeperature - damn hot, it was much more comfortable and quiet than the Platz carriage. People were not walking past every two minutes banging doors and we could control the lights. There were some violent stops that sent bottles flying and some snoring which, Sarah said was coming from both Roman and I but I’m not sure if she’s telling the truth.
Day two of the journey. The combination of the extreme heat and beers last night meant that Sarah and I were feeling a little groggy when we woke up, Roman on the other hand was sat up drinking his first beer of the day trying to make conversation with us. It quickly got a little frustrating though as his enthusiasm didn’t seem to diminish even thought we could only say about five words to each other, we couldn’t look out of the window or attempt to read our books without playing a game of charades, a game we had no idea if we were winning or loosing. With nothing else to do Sarah and I both ended up falling asleep again.
We woke an hour or two later with beautiful snowy scenes outside our carriage. The train was passing huge forests and allowing occasional glimpses at sleepy wooden villages and noisy industrial complexes, perfect for sitting and gazing at thoughtfully. Unfortunately in the past two hours it seems that Roman had been sneaking in a couple more cheeky Piva’s (beer) and was even more desperate to have unintellagable conversations with us not giving us more than twenty seconds of silence.
Whilst I’m sure some of you will be reading this thinking ‘oh but come on guys, isn’t travel all about meeting interesting locals and interacting with them?’ this man was becoming more and more errr… well disgusting by the minute. (Bear in mind we are writing this knowing what was about to happen later in the day) We had said everything we were able to say to each other, and whilst we would have been happy to carry on having brief conversations with him we were getting a little annoyed. Luckily he smoked so every 30 mins we were given a 5 minute break.
It was clear quite early in the day that Roman had no interest in the newspaper he bought; by about lunchtime I would have been surprised if he could have focused on the pictures let alone read the print. No, this man from Kazakstan was truly on a mission. Beer after beer was consumed as was a packet of chesterfield cigarettes. Unfortunately in such tightly packed hot living quarters a by product of the larger man drinking is he starts to sweat profucley, this, combined with the Kazakstan diet of packets of stinking wet fish meant that Roman started to pong a little and was panting like a hot dog. At this early stage in the day Sarah and I were only just trying to have our pot noodles and look out the scenery.
Fortunately at about 4 O’clock Roman got bored and staggered off to find some new buddies to have a drink and talk to, giving Sarah and I a chance to open the door and attempt to cleanse the air a little (which was futile). At last we could finally relax and talk to each other without the impossible task of having to explain everything. Unfortunately, unknown to us at this time Roman had met four people considerably younger than him who must have been having a bit of a Vodka binge in the last compartment. He was all over this like a nun sandwich. They were also getting off the train some time before us and Roman.
He was very nice and would keep coming back to make sure it was ok he was off drinking with these other people and not us, and to tell us we are all friends etc etc. We didn’t mind. As the afternoon was turning to evening these check ups would take longer and longer until the inevitable ‘I love you guys’ was pointed out into the phrasebook. Great, not only was he drunk but he had reached the ‘telling strangers I love you stage’
Sarah and I had to leave the train at 04.46 when the train was to stop for only 2 minutes in Kungur so we were quite keen to get a little rest before the morning. Romans Vodka buddies left the train so he was back with us with a full on sweat, desperate to talk about is favourite films. Imagine Borat say I Larve buuuce williiis (Yashamash!) ok, so we all spend some time trying to decipher what film he is talking about, the only problem is films in Russian are often given different titles than English. For example, lock stock and two smoking barrels is called Money, Poker and two guns in Russian. Roman in his pissed state couldn’t grasp this and kept on talking about a guy richie film and acting it out falling all over the place, it was getting later and later and more and more annoying (he was still drinking). All this time he is talking in Russian, so except names and a few basic words we have no real idea what he is saying and same the other way. Dealing with someone at the ‘I love you stage’ when they speak your language is bad enough, but this was getting worse and worse. We got forceful and told him we had to go to bed, so he disappeared again and we fell asleep. Sarah on the bottom bunk and I was on the top.
An hour or two later we were both woken by the sound, and I’m being deadly serious, that could only really compare to the sound of a demented camel giving birth. Roman was back, he had been drinking more and there was something seriously wrong with him. He was in bed writhing around and shouting out random words at the top of his voice and making these un-human camel birthing sounds. Clearly this freaked us out a bit, but more so Sarah as she was next to him on the bottom bunk. We were both unsure if he was awake, or if each other was, and so didn’t say anything so we didn’t have to converse with him. Roman became more and more agitated, yelling out and taking all his covers off, possibly uncomfortable at his extreme drunkeness. At this point I became more and more worried about Sarah and was watching ready to pounce down from above if he moved her way. I looked down and whispered Sarahs name to check if she was awake… no reply, so I leaned down and tapped her arm which caused her to leap and scream! Woops sorry Sarah! She was awake and crapping herself (you must realise at this point there’s still a writhing shouting Kazak in the bed next to her saying incompreshensible nothingness loudly). Sarah jumped up to the bed opposite me and we watch as Roman then took all his clothes off (bar the bright red hot pants he was wearing) and over the next hour whilst groaning and shouting managed to fall out of bed no less that 10 times, 9 feet first but once head first pulling down the table cloth and sending everything flying from the table! He was then lying under the table, which clearly confused him because he couldn’t get out again. Lucky Sarah moved because after falling out of bed he then would try to stand up and twice crashed down where Sarah had previously been sleeping.
When we were both safely up on the top all we could do was laugh as we couldn’t sleep, this continued all the way until we had to get off the train at Kungur. We managed to get a couple of pictures of him sprawling his fat belly all over our carriage but unfortunately it was to dark for video. Please also note and remember, the smell – we jumped off at Perm station for a breath of fresh icy air. When we got back on we cautiously peered into our cabin only to be met with a wall of stink! 12+ hrs of beer drinking, the final four hours of knocking back the vodka, cigarettes, fishy sweat, general sweat, we suspect some vomit and the fact he was nearly naked with sweat matted hairy back – it was disgusting. Please don’t forget this as this adds a new dimension to our suffering; and we had upgraded our ticket for this!
Stepping off the train in Kungur at 04.46 (+2 hours local time) was like arriving at some Antarctic research station. The train pulled away and we were left on an empty barren windswept platform, knee deep in snow in the dark.
We had, that morning, much to the arm waving (really she was) shouting and annoyance of the ticket lady, upgraded our tickets to Kupe for this first leg of our journey. Kupe is second class, so instead of sharing with 50 people, you are in separated cabins of 4 berths, and because the Kupe ticket is more than twice the price of the Platz (third class) ticket you should, in theory, have a more comfortable ride…. We had decided to upgrade because a) we had some money to spare after being so under budget on our 1st leg, and b) just wanted to be able to enjoy the journey a little more, relax and take in the scenery, which is all a little more difficult in the more hectic Platz class… oh if only we knew what we had in store for us and what a nightmare it was going to be.
After arriving at the station we picked up some supplies at a shop (beer, instant mashed potatoes, instant noodles… a combination which has unfortunately become a bit of a staple diet..), found our train (A very smart train heading all the way to Ulan Ude), showed out ticket to get past the growling Provodnick before finally squeezing down the corridor to our cabin. After stowing our bags we sat down to introduce ourselves to the third person in our cabin; Roman from Kazakstan (Yashamash!) who we think was a travelling salesman. He took goods to St Petersburg then travelled back to start the process again, the journey from Kazakstan to St.P’burg is about 5-6 days, how the man had any money left when he got home we have no idea. We had been drinking a few beers before the train, as had Roman so conversation via the phrasebook flowed freely aided by another beer or two. We learnt that Roman had been making this commute for 7 years, his wife didn’t like it too much, he had two sons one which had played Canada at ice hockey at some point (he had a treasured Canada maple leaf biro… something that would play a part in later events).
Eventualy when we were all bored of grunting sounds at each other we made our beds and settled down. Although the carriage still only had soviet style heating, one temeperature - damn hot, it was much more comfortable and quiet than the Platz carriage. People were not walking past every two minutes banging doors and we could control the lights. There were some violent stops that sent bottles flying and some snoring which, Sarah said was coming from both Roman and I but I’m not sure if she’s telling the truth.
Day two of the journey. The combination of the extreme heat and beers last night meant that Sarah and I were feeling a little groggy when we woke up, Roman on the other hand was sat up drinking his first beer of the day trying to make conversation with us. It quickly got a little frustrating though as his enthusiasm didn’t seem to diminish even thought we could only say about five words to each other, we couldn’t look out of the window or attempt to read our books without playing a game of charades, a game we had no idea if we were winning or loosing. With nothing else to do Sarah and I both ended up falling asleep again.
We woke an hour or two later with beautiful snowy scenes outside our carriage. The train was passing huge forests and allowing occasional glimpses at sleepy wooden villages and noisy industrial complexes, perfect for sitting and gazing at thoughtfully. Unfortunately in the past two hours it seems that Roman had been sneaking in a couple more cheeky Piva’s (beer) and was even more desperate to have unintellagable conversations with us not giving us more than twenty seconds of silence.
Whilst I’m sure some of you will be reading this thinking ‘oh but come on guys, isn’t travel all about meeting interesting locals and interacting with them?’ this man was becoming more and more errr… well disgusting by the minute. (Bear in mind we are writing this knowing what was about to happen later in the day) We had said everything we were able to say to each other, and whilst we would have been happy to carry on having brief conversations with him we were getting a little annoyed. Luckily he smoked so every 30 mins we were given a 5 minute break.
It was clear quite early in the day that Roman had no interest in the newspaper he bought; by about lunchtime I would have been surprised if he could have focused on the pictures let alone read the print. No, this man from Kazakstan was truly on a mission. Beer after beer was consumed as was a packet of chesterfield cigarettes. Unfortunately in such tightly packed hot living quarters a by product of the larger man drinking is he starts to sweat profucley, this, combined with the Kazakstan diet of packets of stinking wet fish meant that Roman started to pong a little and was panting like a hot dog. At this early stage in the day Sarah and I were only just trying to have our pot noodles and look out the scenery.
Fortunately at about 4 O’clock Roman got bored and staggered off to find some new buddies to have a drink and talk to, giving Sarah and I a chance to open the door and attempt to cleanse the air a little (which was futile). At last we could finally relax and talk to each other without the impossible task of having to explain everything. Unfortunately, unknown to us at this time Roman had met four people considerably younger than him who must have been having a bit of a Vodka binge in the last compartment. He was all over this like a nun sandwich. They were also getting off the train some time before us and Roman.
He was very nice and would keep coming back to make sure it was ok he was off drinking with these other people and not us, and to tell us we are all friends etc etc. We didn’t mind. As the afternoon was turning to evening these check ups would take longer and longer until the inevitable ‘I love you guys’ was pointed out into the phrasebook. Great, not only was he drunk but he had reached the ‘telling strangers I love you stage’
Sarah and I had to leave the train at 04.46 when the train was to stop for only 2 minutes in Kungur so we were quite keen to get a little rest before the morning. Romans Vodka buddies left the train so he was back with us with a full on sweat, desperate to talk about is favourite films. Imagine Borat say I Larve buuuce williiis (Yashamash!) ok, so we all spend some time trying to decipher what film he is talking about, the only problem is films in Russian are often given different titles than English. For example, lock stock and two smoking barrels is called Money, Poker and two guns in Russian. Roman in his pissed state couldn’t grasp this and kept on talking about a guy richie film and acting it out falling all over the place, it was getting later and later and more and more annoying (he was still drinking). All this time he is talking in Russian, so except names and a few basic words we have no real idea what he is saying and same the other way. Dealing with someone at the ‘I love you stage’ when they speak your language is bad enough, but this was getting worse and worse. We got forceful and told him we had to go to bed, so he disappeared again and we fell asleep. Sarah on the bottom bunk and I was on the top.
An hour or two later we were both woken by the sound, and I’m being deadly serious, that could only really compare to the sound of a demented camel giving birth. Roman was back, he had been drinking more and there was something seriously wrong with him. He was in bed writhing around and shouting out random words at the top of his voice and making these un-human camel birthing sounds. Clearly this freaked us out a bit, but more so Sarah as she was next to him on the bottom bunk. We were both unsure if he was awake, or if each other was, and so didn’t say anything so we didn’t have to converse with him. Roman became more and more agitated, yelling out and taking all his covers off, possibly uncomfortable at his extreme drunkeness. At this point I became more and more worried about Sarah and was watching ready to pounce down from above if he moved her way. I looked down and whispered Sarahs name to check if she was awake… no reply, so I leaned down and tapped her arm which caused her to leap and scream! Woops sorry Sarah! She was awake and crapping herself (you must realise at this point there’s still a writhing shouting Kazak in the bed next to her saying incompreshensible nothingness loudly). Sarah jumped up to the bed opposite me and we watch as Roman then took all his clothes off (bar the bright red hot pants he was wearing) and over the next hour whilst groaning and shouting managed to fall out of bed no less that 10 times, 9 feet first but once head first pulling down the table cloth and sending everything flying from the table! He was then lying under the table, which clearly confused him because he couldn’t get out again. Lucky Sarah moved because after falling out of bed he then would try to stand up and twice crashed down where Sarah had previously been sleeping.
When we were both safely up on the top all we could do was laugh as we couldn’t sleep, this continued all the way until we had to get off the train at Kungur. We managed to get a couple of pictures of him sprawling his fat belly all over our carriage but unfortunately it was to dark for video. Please also note and remember, the smell – we jumped off at Perm station for a breath of fresh icy air. When we got back on we cautiously peered into our cabin only to be met with a wall of stink! 12+ hrs of beer drinking, the final four hours of knocking back the vodka, cigarettes, fishy sweat, general sweat, we suspect some vomit and the fact he was nearly naked with sweat matted hairy back – it was disgusting. Please don’t forget this as this adds a new dimension to our suffering; and we had upgraded our ticket for this!
Stepping off the train in Kungur at 04.46 (+2 hours local time) was like arriving at some Antarctic research station. The train pulled away and we were left on an empty barren windswept platform, knee deep in snow in the dark.
Friday, 8 February 2008
MOSCOW
NEWS FLASH: 'SPA messes up enemas' - People visiting a health resort received a crude shock when a nurse used hydrogen peroxide instead of water to give them enemas! SEVENTEEN tourists in the spa town had to be admitted to hospital after receiving this new treatment. The 'therapist' claims that the mix up was easy as water and hydrogen peroxide look the same! What a pain in the bum!
MOSCOW; The city of contradictions, beautiful people against poor, loitering alcoholics; communist architecture against elaborate buildings huddled next to extravagant religious buildings; huge new 'chelsea tractors'' next to ladas; travellers hiking boots next to leather/fur, high heeled boots.
This has been an amazing city and we have not had nearly enough time to see it all. We spent the first day strolling around the VDNKH, a totally over the top collection of huge buildings which made up the communist ideal of their social achievements. Now it is filled with the tacky, chinese made electronics, russian dolls and guns, which something they wanted to avoid in the first place (another contradiction). We then went on a rusty ferris wheel at the side of the VDNKH which was ALOT higher than it looked. However it was blue skies in early evening and the views were amazing down the 'over the top' buildings and the cosmonaut memorial. Sam also spotted the MacDonalds... After this we got the metro to red square, by now it was dusk and the seven glowing red stars above the kremlin looked lovely against the deepening blue skies. We then walked back to the hostel and started on a few beers. The arrival of Igor the Russian actor changed it all... a magnum of cizanno, bottle of martini blanco, vodka, countless beers and several lengthy russian toasts later it was early on our second day.
Our second day involved recovering on the sofas, but managing to get out to the supermarket in the evening for one of the italian girls to cook potato & tomato risotto. The thing about Moscow is the cost, someone else in the hostel had a jar of jam costing £17, Strawberrys are at a cost of £2.50 per strawberry, fresh fruit is extremely expensive and eating out - well, its our last night and we haven't even attempted it yet. Against this though cabbage must be about 3 roubles a ton and dill - of all herbs, gets put in everything free of charge - almost a public health attempt at getting your greens.
Our third and final day was an early start to to the train station to swap our email confirmation tickets for real ones. However, out time in moscow changed our minds slightly about our trip. We wanted to upgrade to second class for a couple of the longer trips, cancel one ticket totally. We managed to get the russian receptionist to write down exactly what we wanted to do. So with this statement and our email confirmations we slip it all under the glass..... we were met with much head shaking, russian arm waving and yabbing. Luckily our blank faces and silence reluctantly pushed her to give up and do what we wanted. 45 minutes later and a long queue behind us we got all our shiny new tickets!!!! We also went to the Russian armed forces museum, none of which was in english but it was very good and we got to slip and slide around a park filled with fighter jets, tanks, totally huge vehicles and other random military paraphinallia.
Our train is at 00:35 and we may well be out of web access for some time. We are heading to some more 'outback' regions of the trans-siberian and the likely-hood of internet access is slim. We will be sending an up-date and more pictures as soon as possible but this may be the last time until china which will be at the beginning of march!
SO UNTIL THEN COMRADES THIS REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE ACCESSIBLE
MOSCOW; The city of contradictions, beautiful people against poor, loitering alcoholics; communist architecture against elaborate buildings huddled next to extravagant religious buildings; huge new 'chelsea tractors'' next to ladas; travellers hiking boots next to leather/fur, high heeled boots.
This has been an amazing city and we have not had nearly enough time to see it all. We spent the first day strolling around the VDNKH, a totally over the top collection of huge buildings which made up the communist ideal of their social achievements. Now it is filled with the tacky, chinese made electronics, russian dolls and guns, which something they wanted to avoid in the first place (another contradiction). We then went on a rusty ferris wheel at the side of the VDNKH which was ALOT higher than it looked. However it was blue skies in early evening and the views were amazing down the 'over the top' buildings and the cosmonaut memorial. Sam also spotted the MacDonalds... After this we got the metro to red square, by now it was dusk and the seven glowing red stars above the kremlin looked lovely against the deepening blue skies. We then walked back to the hostel and started on a few beers. The arrival of Igor the Russian actor changed it all... a magnum of cizanno, bottle of martini blanco, vodka, countless beers and several lengthy russian toasts later it was early on our second day.
Our second day involved recovering on the sofas, but managing to get out to the supermarket in the evening for one of the italian girls to cook potato & tomato risotto. The thing about Moscow is the cost, someone else in the hostel had a jar of jam costing £17, Strawberrys are at a cost of £2.50 per strawberry, fresh fruit is extremely expensive and eating out - well, its our last night and we haven't even attempted it yet. Against this though cabbage must be about 3 roubles a ton and dill - of all herbs, gets put in everything free of charge - almost a public health attempt at getting your greens.
Our third and final day was an early start to to the train station to swap our email confirmation tickets for real ones. However, out time in moscow changed our minds slightly about our trip. We wanted to upgrade to second class for a couple of the longer trips, cancel one ticket totally. We managed to get the russian receptionist to write down exactly what we wanted to do. So with this statement and our email confirmations we slip it all under the glass..... we were met with much head shaking, russian arm waving and yabbing. Luckily our blank faces and silence reluctantly pushed her to give up and do what we wanted. 45 minutes later and a long queue behind us we got all our shiny new tickets!!!! We also went to the Russian armed forces museum, none of which was in english but it was very good and we got to slip and slide around a park filled with fighter jets, tanks, totally huge vehicles and other random military paraphinallia.
Our train is at 00:35 and we may well be out of web access for some time. We are heading to some more 'outback' regions of the trans-siberian and the likely-hood of internet access is slim. We will be sending an up-date and more pictures as soon as possible but this may be the last time until china which will be at the beginning of march!
SO UNTIL THEN COMRADES THIS REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE ACCESSIBLE
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
The last 5 days...
Hmmm,.. what have we been up to?? LOTS!
ok, in brief, we left poland and headed to the great expanse of Ukraine, not without shits and giggles on the way. First off we had a 6 hour train journey from Krakow to Przemysl, which is the Polish town closest to the Ukraine boarder - everything nice and easy there. We then took a bus which was to take us to Lviv. The bus was instantly ukranian, from the dodgy pink flowery curtains to the diesel fume filled insides and the big flat caped farmer driver who, it seemed, was a smuggler of fridges and freezers (and other things in small packages passed onto people upon our arrival). With the first stage short and with curtains strictly closed we rocked up at the hectic boarder swiftly... Exit poland... fine... enter Ukraine? oh no, not that easily... Please mr you come with us... it seems upon closer inspection (via a huge machine which can magnify small parts of ones passport) Sams passport has been tampered with. Sams gorgeous face is coming away from the passport! So off the bus he goes with Ukranian guard in tow.
Mr, please explain why you have changed your picture. Well, thats me, ive not changed it. Ok, what is your date of birth and why do you look so different to your picture? (they were looking at the side of my head over and over?? you cant see that in the passport). Its an antique.. anyway lots of questions followed and then they asked to see my wallet and more id.. which i couldnt show because the fake student id with the different date of birth would have made them wet their pants. After many questions and 20 odd mins later we were back on the bus and into Ukraine!
Oh, Ukraine it was like stepping back 3 years! Babushkas with headscarves pulling ploughs in fields, all the old soviet cars that we did not see at all in Poland were everywhere in Ukraine. The road felt like it had been transplanted from the moon with deep craters and holes, all roads leading off the main road were mud tracks being totted along by completely untastefull and unfazed women in knee high patent red leather/plastic boots and white tiny skirts! This was it. We had clearly stepped out of Europe and into the randomness of the former soviet union...
Lviv was a beautiful city, really untouched so far by tourism but just as amazing (if not more so) than Prague or Krakow. Everything is in Cyrillic so it was the first chance we had to test out our skills... which it seems are lacking slightly! The first night rocked.. we met up with a few other people and were taken to a bar called the 'bunker'. This place was unreal, to enter you had to knock on a completely unmarked door, at which point a tiny shutter was opened and a password was demanded (??). Once given a Ukrainian policeman (not real) and castro look a like (not real) let you in (if they wanted) and led you downstairs to a room completely decked out as a kind of rebel hideaway... It was dedicated to the Ukrayins’ka Povstans’ka Armiya.. people who fought the germans then carried on fighting the russians up until 1970 in the woods around Lviv. Helmets, knives weapons all over the joint, pictures of the rebels and all the staff in uniforms. All underground in a bunker type building.. we didnt leave until 7am! The best thing about Ukraine is everytime you buy something you think they have undercharged you! Our whole night in the bunker for ten people drinking all night... the total tab for the whole night?? £13.10. unreal! the beers in the bar were less than 20p.
After Lviv and its exceptionally cheap beer, great buildings and atmosphere we caught our 1st real long distance train to Moscow! Third class all the way and for 25 hours. It was busy, noisy, cramped and hectic - all things we could cope with, the only problem believe it or not was the HEAT!! Oh my, it was -3 outside but in the train was well over +30c.. it was hell! We were both in shorts and t shirts but all we could do was lie down and sweat for the whole journey!
Anyway, now we are in Moscow, this afternoon we checked out Red Square and had a quick sneaky peaky at the Kremlin. More than anything it feels like we are in a James Bond story. You only live once!
ok, in brief, we left poland and headed to the great expanse of Ukraine, not without shits and giggles on the way. First off we had a 6 hour train journey from Krakow to Przemysl, which is the Polish town closest to the Ukraine boarder - everything nice and easy there. We then took a bus which was to take us to Lviv. The bus was instantly ukranian, from the dodgy pink flowery curtains to the diesel fume filled insides and the big flat caped farmer driver who, it seemed, was a smuggler of fridges and freezers (and other things in small packages passed onto people upon our arrival). With the first stage short and with curtains strictly closed we rocked up at the hectic boarder swiftly... Exit poland... fine... enter Ukraine? oh no, not that easily... Please mr you come with us... it seems upon closer inspection (via a huge machine which can magnify small parts of ones passport) Sams passport has been tampered with. Sams gorgeous face is coming away from the passport! So off the bus he goes with Ukranian guard in tow.
Mr, please explain why you have changed your picture. Well, thats me, ive not changed it. Ok, what is your date of birth and why do you look so different to your picture? (they were looking at the side of my head over and over?? you cant see that in the passport). Its an antique.. anyway lots of questions followed and then they asked to see my wallet and more id.. which i couldnt show because the fake student id with the different date of birth would have made them wet their pants. After many questions and 20 odd mins later we were back on the bus and into Ukraine!
Oh, Ukraine it was like stepping back 3 years! Babushkas with headscarves pulling ploughs in fields, all the old soviet cars that we did not see at all in Poland were everywhere in Ukraine. The road felt like it had been transplanted from the moon with deep craters and holes, all roads leading off the main road were mud tracks being totted along by completely untastefull and unfazed women in knee high patent red leather/plastic boots and white tiny skirts! This was it. We had clearly stepped out of Europe and into the randomness of the former soviet union...
Lviv was a beautiful city, really untouched so far by tourism but just as amazing (if not more so) than Prague or Krakow. Everything is in Cyrillic so it was the first chance we had to test out our skills... which it seems are lacking slightly! The first night rocked.. we met up with a few other people and were taken to a bar called the 'bunker'. This place was unreal, to enter you had to knock on a completely unmarked door, at which point a tiny shutter was opened and a password was demanded (??). Once given a Ukrainian policeman (not real) and castro look a like (not real) let you in (if they wanted) and led you downstairs to a room completely decked out as a kind of rebel hideaway... It was dedicated to the Ukrayins’ka Povstans’ka Armiya.. people who fought the germans then carried on fighting the russians up until 1970 in the woods around Lviv. Helmets, knives weapons all over the joint, pictures of the rebels and all the staff in uniforms. All underground in a bunker type building.. we didnt leave until 7am! The best thing about Ukraine is everytime you buy something you think they have undercharged you! Our whole night in the bunker for ten people drinking all night... the total tab for the whole night?? £13.10. unreal! the beers in the bar were less than 20p.
After Lviv and its exceptionally cheap beer, great buildings and atmosphere we caught our 1st real long distance train to Moscow! Third class all the way and for 25 hours. It was busy, noisy, cramped and hectic - all things we could cope with, the only problem believe it or not was the HEAT!! Oh my, it was -3 outside but in the train was well over +30c.. it was hell! We were both in shorts and t shirts but all we could do was lie down and sweat for the whole journey!
Anyway, now we are in Moscow, this afternoon we checked out Red Square and had a quick sneaky peaky at the Kremlin. More than anything it feels like we are in a James Bond story. You only live once!
Saturday, 2 February 2008
A Fun day at the death camps
Today was the day we had set aside for our visit to Auschwitz and the Birkenau death camps, unfortunately it was the same day that 20 coaches of uber annoying Italian school kids had chosen. Auschwitz is the German name for the town of Oświęcim and was also the name of the work camp built on a captured Polish barracks, originally set up for Polish political prisoners and Soviet pows. At whatever point along the line when the nazis went completely nuts they set up Birkenau the super efficient bmw factory of death on the edge of the town. Auschwitz itself was smaller than we had imagined but very chilling with its familiar front gate and triple barbed wire fences, the buildings themselves are filled with displays and images of the horrors that took place. After spending some time here getting annoyed with the millions of italians that managed to stand in the way of every door we walked the 3km to the edge of town to Birkenau. Birkenau was a different cuttle of fish - purpose built for one thing, just to sort, murder and dispose of thousands of people. It really was shocking how efficent the process was, a long building with a changing room, gas chamber then incinerator all in one line all under one roof. People in one end ash from the other. It was hard to believe that at no point did someone say 'hey henrich isn't this all just a little bit f.up?' The size and purpose built nature of it all really rammed home how savage the whole thing was. It was also strange to see people houses backing onto the site, people who probably have a bedroom window view looking out over the gas chambers. 'I live down at number 23' 'oh is that the one next door to the death camp?'. The day also made us aware of how shafted Poland was during the war, with over 20% being wiped out. Hitler specifcally ordering the destruction of Poland and its people, then invasion by Russia followed by a lovely bit of forced communism for the next 5o odd years.
After all this fun and joy we caught a train back to krakow which was hillarious, the train seemed to expend more energy moving up and down left and right instead of going forwards, the broken door made conversation almost impossible with the screeching and banging. We then stopped off at our local for a few beers and a trip to the supermarket to stock up on oven pizzas and packing for our early start tomorrow!
After all this fun and joy we caught a train back to krakow which was hillarious, the train seemed to expend more energy moving up and down left and right instead of going forwards, the broken door made conversation almost impossible with the screeching and banging. We then stopped off at our local for a few beers and a trip to the supermarket to stock up on oven pizzas and packing for our early start tomorrow!
We're goin' deeper underground...
Hello all! Just though we would fill you in all the juicy details of our hectic past couple of days!
On Wednesday, our second day in Krakow, we decided to visit the Salt mines of Wieliczka, a small town about 45 mins outside Krakow. Up nice and early with our pre made sandwiches to catch one of the many crazy minibuses which drive to various destinations written on a small card in the front window. You have to keep your eye out for one going in your direction then wave franticly to get the driver to stop, all very hectic as you cant see where they are going until the last minute.
The mines are apparently the oldest industrial workings in Poland, opening in the 13th Century and still being used today. Its compulsory to take a tour, luckily there was an English tour starting 20 minutes after we turned up which consisted of just us, a group of not too bright Americans and some old people from yorkshire. The tour started with a very long set of wooden stairs all the way down to 90 meters.. 360 steps all in all which doesn't sound like much, but they were in sets of 6 before you had to change direction. Six steps - turn around, six steps turn around... makes you very dizzy!
The tour took us through various chambers and sites, the highlight being a huge church chiseled from the rock salt (see the pictures). All very crazy, especially the salt statues of the Pope and the musical salt dwarf show we were made to watch. Although the whole time underground you didn't really feel like you were in a mine as you passed many shops, a resturant, toilets and even a big function room?! Well up until the end when they take you to what they call a lift, which is in fact a tiny coffin sized box they squidge 9 people in completely crammed together for quite a hair raising journey back up.
Caught the train back to Krakow and visited the old Communist suburb of town with huge steelworks, purpose built to encourage more worker types to the town of intelectuals and artists. We had read that the place was horrible and grey filled with tower blocks and ugly buildings but we found it was completly the opposite... large tree lined bolevards, a grand square with impressive building etc. All very nice with an interesting tram journey there and back.
Then back to the hostel to cook our dinner, make tomorrows lunch and enjoy more cheap beer!
On Wednesday, our second day in Krakow, we decided to visit the Salt mines of Wieliczka, a small town about 45 mins outside Krakow. Up nice and early with our pre made sandwiches to catch one of the many crazy minibuses which drive to various destinations written on a small card in the front window. You have to keep your eye out for one going in your direction then wave franticly to get the driver to stop, all very hectic as you cant see where they are going until the last minute.
The mines are apparently the oldest industrial workings in Poland, opening in the 13th Century and still being used today. Its compulsory to take a tour, luckily there was an English tour starting 20 minutes after we turned up which consisted of just us, a group of not too bright Americans and some old people from yorkshire. The tour started with a very long set of wooden stairs all the way down to 90 meters.. 360 steps all in all which doesn't sound like much, but they were in sets of 6 before you had to change direction. Six steps - turn around, six steps turn around... makes you very dizzy!
The tour took us through various chambers and sites, the highlight being a huge church chiseled from the rock salt (see the pictures). All very crazy, especially the salt statues of the Pope and the musical salt dwarf show we were made to watch. Although the whole time underground you didn't really feel like you were in a mine as you passed many shops, a resturant, toilets and even a big function room?! Well up until the end when they take you to what they call a lift, which is in fact a tiny coffin sized box they squidge 9 people in completely crammed together for quite a hair raising journey back up.
Caught the train back to Krakow and visited the old Communist suburb of town with huge steelworks, purpose built to encourage more worker types to the town of intelectuals and artists. We had read that the place was horrible and grey filled with tower blocks and ugly buildings but we found it was completly the opposite... large tree lined bolevards, a grand square with impressive building etc. All very nice with an interesting tram journey there and back.
Then back to the hostel to cook our dinner, make tomorrows lunch and enjoy more cheap beer!
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