This train, in fact:
By chance a young woman came up to me on the station while I was waiting for the train and started speaking Russian to me. When she realised I was English she told me about 3 other Brits and introduced us. Luckily I had some advice beforehand about Jaroslavl station and sure enough it turns out the 3 Brits had had a bag of theirs stolen at the station containing their train tickets, amongst other things. It turns out the young Russian woman and her partner had not only helped them file a police complaint and buy new tickets, but they'd even put
them up for the night when they were unable to find a hotel vacancy. Acts of friendliness and altruism like this don't seem uncommon out here; since my last update I had one final day in Moscow before boarding my Irkutsk bound train at 11pm. Instead of going back into the city centre, I decided to check out a more local market place and get a feel for everyday Muscovite life. While the market was a lot like simple street markets back home, they sold a lot of old communist gear; everything from hats to uniforms to badges to flags to posters. I was trying to buy something but could find nobody by the stall and few most people
speak little or no English. A man came up to me and asked me something in Russian. I sort of shrugged and muttered under my breath 'I dunno' to which he started speaking English. It turns out he was a Quebecan living in Moscow. He then not only helped me look for what I wanted but also haggled and translated for me with the shopkeeper.
By a huge coincidence the 3 Brits and I are in the same carriage, but in different sleepers. Sleepers are small compartments with two tiers of beds either side of a small table.
My home for the next 3 days.
The 3 people in my sleeper with me were all Russian and spoke no English so besides a few words being exchanged nothing much was said. They have however, been very helpful when I have had problems as they are clearly more experienced at this than I.
That night the 3 Brits and I decided to have a celebratory drink. After downing half a bottle of Polish vodka they had on them we went to the bar and ended up drinking 1 and three quarter bottles of vodka between us.
Most of the next day was spent in bed.
In the evening, after the standard 'never drinking again' agreement we went to the bar to order some dinner. I ordered Stolianka, meat soup, while one of the others ordered salted fish, which hilariously turned out to be a tiny slab of raw fish on a dish the size of a butter plate under a mound of onions.
Mine was not much better, though. When my flavoured water arrived I found it contained everything from olives to a lemon slice. I'm pretty convinced instead of meat soup they simply threw whatever they could find into the pot. I also learnt it's a bad idea to try to eat soup on a moving train.
After dinner we went back to their sleeper and played cards for a bit before exchanging phone numbers and email addresses as they left that night at Ekaterinburg. So too, it turns out, did my sleeper companions which left me with the entire sleeper to myself for the night.
Whilst on my own during the morning of the next day I took some shots from the train, which passes by some amazing scenery. I have plenty of video footage too, but that will have to wait till I arrive home as I doubt I'll find an Internet connection
fast enough out here to upload them.
A Russian village tucked away in the middle of nowhere.
It's nice to know the Russians have special train cabins for their less fortunate.
Mid afternoon that day a man joined my sleeper as the train stopped at Omsk. At first he started speaking Russian to me but I attempted telling him I didn't know what he was saying. I showed him my Russian phrasebook, which he took and began looking through. Soon enough we were exchanging the book between us, he using the Russian > English dictionary at the back and I are English > Russian. Though both of us spoke little of each other's languages, I learnt his name was Sergei, he was 50 years old and was travelling on the train
for a business trip; he was in the oil industry. He had two sons and a wife, who spoke English and even put me on the phone to her where she wished me all the luck in the world with my trip, University and the future in general.
As we continued chatting he offered me some Russian chocolates and some herbal tea using dried herbs he'd hand picked in a local forest. I don't really like tea but I enjoyed it. Unfortunately I didn't really have anything English to offer back as I'm travelling lightly. I gave him some Twix, which they don't have in Russia but I'm not sure if he liked chocolate.
After some more dictionary exchanging and him trying to recall his English eduction of 35 years ago, we stopped at a station he had told me about, Barabinsk. Here they sold fish freshly caght from the lake nearby. He then bought two fish each and a beer to split. When we got back to the train he even got his wife on the phone to warn me the fish contained small bones so I had to be careful.
Both fish were freshly caught and whole; head, fin and everything. He told me the names of them but naturally in Russian so I don't know what they were. The fish was smoked and the second salted but raw; both were good.
After supper we spoke some more and since topics that are taboo between strangers over here such as politics isn't so in Russia, the conversation soon swayed to life in the Soviet Union. He had only been in oil for 5 years and for 25 years prior he was an officer in the military. It's humbling to think had the orders
been given the man who would have shot my countrymen was laughing and joking with me and buying me fish for supper.
I had gone to Russia with the impression of growing anti-wester sentiments, a disdain of foreigners and worsening British-Russian relations. However I have found no evidence of this on
my travels and have found Russians to be an exceedingly friendly people. The relations between governments has no bearing on the people of the government. By the time I woke up the next morning, Sergei had gone but I found a Russian chocolate he had left of the table. Truly one of the nicest people I have ever met.
Nothing of much interest happened socially on the third day as nobody joined my sleeper so I had it to myself for the entire day, though I did pass some spectular scenery as the train weaved through the mountains.
...Well you try to take a picture from a moving train.
Over the Angara river.
4,100km from Moscow.
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