My Journal

Tues 16 Dec 2008
It’s finally here. My departure day. I can hardly believe it. After what seems like nearly two and a half years immersed in my work, the picture framing industry – especially in my shop – I’m suddenly free. Travel. How liberating. This feels all new again. Though I do remember just a few short years ago when travel was a chore. Different career, different life. But for now the weeks ahead seem unreal. On the brink of what might best be described as an odd odyssey.

For the past few months I have been patiently working on every little section of this trip. Not just the tickets and visas and not just the usual list of items to pack, but right down to the minutest of detail; I asked myself what would be the most ideal pair of headphones to listen to my music?, the most appropriate for this trip, which by the way turned out to be the noise cancelling Bose QC-2. They’re quite pricey, but turned out to be such worthwhile item. As for the most appropriate clothes, I imagined myself on the train at different times of the day and wondered what would be the ideal thing to wear at any one time while satisfying all the requirements. i.e. light but warm. etc. Then went out and packed it or bought it if I didn’t have it. Top tip: track-suits are easy and versatile on trains. How would I shave? A battery operated shaver, which one? The Phillips with its double AA batteries. Which bag, which camera (Panasonic TZ-4 with its 10x optical zoom and super Leica lens), etc etc, . Every day has been thought through. Using the internet, I’ve read stories, seen pictures and watched videos. Its been fun and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the research. Its almost been too much. Enough of it all. Its time to go.

21:45
I’ve just checked in here at Brisbane international airport. Quite remarkable. While hundreds of people were queuing up at the half dozen or so check-in counters available, I noticed, quite by chance that slotted between economy and first class check-in were two other counters, each with their signs displaying ‘Internet Only’. There was only one person in this line. Having already checked in on the internet myself, all part of my overly detailed preparation, I simply presented myself with my ‘printed-at-home’ boarding pass and they checked my bag in, checked my passport, asked the mandatory security questions and that was it. The whole process took no more than a few minutes. I was amazed. So off to the departure lounge.

My flight departs at 11:45pm. Its quiet here. Around me, other travellers are typical from what I recall of departure lounges. Families, couples, friends. Mostly on holiday. A few Business people. Tonight though, I notice another type of traveller. A type of traveller that, well, looks a little like me. White male, Mid to late forties. One over there a little older, perhaps mid fifties. We all look alike. By that I mean we are dressed in that same casual, smart, conservative, non hippie way, each supporting our compact baggage. Look at this, we all have the same type of bags! How could that be? I spent ages going though all the options on bags, drilling down to the one and only that I finally selected. I was too old for a back-pack, and anyway its not that type of a trip. A suitcase was wrong too. It needed to be small, on wheels, light but strong. I eventually found what I was looking for. There are a few variations on this theme, and here I was looking at them all over again on these other white male’s bags. How very curious… I hope they are all not going to London on the train via Hồ Chí Minh City… (Saigon)

Wed 17 Dec 7:03am
There is a familiar smell here at Singapore’s Changi airport. It reminds me of passing through here during my corporate days. The memories flood back of the levels of excitement and stress on those events I used to get involved in. Most, if not all of these were probably to the middle east, Bahrain and Dubai. But now I’m here just for me. I’m still trying to get used to it. It’s me time now, living for the now.. 🙂

9:35am
Now I’m in new territory. I’ve never been to Hồ Chí Minh City (Saigon) before and here it is sprawled out in front of me.
I changed a bit over a hundred AU dollars into local currency and received a million something Vietnamese Dong (VD). I don’t know if I can spend a million VD in the short few days I am here but at least I’m happy in the knowledge that for this moment I’m carrying a million in cash on my person.
From the airport a taxi driver ‘found’ me and we haggled the price a little before settling on 300,000VD, (about AU$30). I surprised myself with my unfamiliarity in the haggling game. Something I used to be quite confident with. Will work on that no doubt.

We arrived at the small office of Discovery Indochina. They tell me their main office is in Hanoi. I was shocked by the amount of traffic on the streets and the so many near misses we had on the way. Its like China but worse, or have I just forgotten.
At Discovery Indochina I picked up my first two train tickets (Saigon-Hanoi and Hanoi-Beijing) and the voucher for the day hotel in Hanoi. The staff here, two people perhaps in the mid twenties are really nice and helpful.

Now its late morning and my train departs about 7pm this evening so I arrange to leave my bag with the good people from Discovery Indochina and go sight-seeing. They introduced me to a chap on a moped who could give me a lift into town. I donned his spare helmet and then what followed was one of the most hell raising experiences I can ever recall in my life. This fellow was super fast and took the most outrages risks. On several occasions I thought I was going to skin my kneecaps off on passing traffic. In a rush of memories I felt I had experienced this before, but my mind was racing. This feeling, this experience. This is culture shock. It’s magnificent! An almost overload of all the senses all at once. Memories of Indonesia, some 20 odd years ago, my first trip away from home, came flooding back in which I went through a similar experience.

Its not just the sights and sounds, but the smells too. A particular scent has triggered further flashbacks from my past which I have yet to identify exactly, some bazaar combination of rotting food with garbage and shit. On the other hand it may possibly be some kind of food.

Anyway the journey finally came to an end some 20 or so minutes later and I paid him a little more than he expected as despite nearly killing the both of us it was what could only be described as an extreme adventure worthy of good money in any western environment. I was left a bit of a nervous wreck for the next hour or two. No, that’s not quite true, I was very much a bit of a wreck, literally shacking and had to go and sit down in the shade for a moment to recover.

The heat here in Saigon is exhausting, not necessarily super hot, perhaps 30c but the humidity is stifling. It makes walking around in a pair of jeans quite exhausting especially when its not the sort of thing I would do at home anyway, despite having similar temperatures. I tramped around a few of their architectural feats, all I believe built when the French were here. You will have to read-up yourself on that one. I decided to eat safely rather than try the weasel and chicken’s penises or whatever I said I would eat and chose a rather western looking version of a restaurant for lunch, then let myself be attracted to one of the many mopeds that were offering themselves as taxi services. I just couldn’t resist another go at this.

We arranged to go to a couple of museums but when arriving at the first one we found it closed for lunch, so instead he offered to take me to the Cu Chi tunnels, about an hours drive away. At first I was apprehensive, it would mean leaving the city, and my first train departure was this evening, I didn’t wish to miss that. However I didn’t fancy much more walking around and it might be good to get out of the city anyway, so I agreed. This driver was far more reserved with his driving style however, after about 30 minutes I began not to feel too good. The road was rough, and we were forever swerving left, right, stopping, starting etc. On top of that the sun was relentless. When we stopped to fill up with petrol, I realised I was quite ill and had to sit it out in the shade for a while.

Despite that, the journey was quite exhilarating to say the least. What a return to culture shock. Coming face to face with the poverty and squalor is a rush on the senses after a good few years in the west.
We eventually arrived at the tunnels. It is in this location during the Vietnam war that the Vietcong dug miles of tunnels, set traps and lived underground. This is a museum to that means. Almost immediately I had a guide and we were off around a set track in the woods, discovering ‘concealed’ entrances and other remarkable leftovers from this period. Towards the end we came across a gun shooting range, where for only a few thousand local dong you would be given a loaded AK47 or an M16 and invited to shoot a target. I had never shot a machine gun before, in fact had never shot or even held a loaded gun before, so curiosity got the better of me and I gave it a go. I should clarify here that they don’t literally hand you a loaded weapon, rather the weapon was quite firmly fixed to a support at shoulder height, allowing the user to move it only about 20 or 30 degrees in either a horizontal or vertical direction.. Still it was an interesting experience. The sound alone is impressive.

The guide forced me to get into the tunnels for photo opportunities, which I’m glad he did as in my somewhat culture shocked frame of mind I would have missed them.

It was a long hour and something journey back into town on the back of his moped. The traffic had, incredibly, increased in volume from earlier, so now there was a lot more weaving in and out of all the other vehicles and ever so many more near misses, but strangely enough I found myself more tolerant of the situation, I let myself go and went with the flow. I even thought he missed a narrow slot between two cars that I would have taken had I been driving.

We got back to the travel agency and said our goodbyes. I gave him a few extra thousand for getting me back alive. He laughed but I new he didn’t get it.
The moped was not an option to take myself and my bag to the train station so I caught a taxi instead. This was quite a juxtaposition to the form of transport I had just come off. Now I found myself inside a late model air-conditioned 7 seater people mover, this object of pure luxury just glided along. By now it was around 5pm and the traffic was at its peak. The main road to the station was almost at a gridlock. Never have I seen such a concentration of vehicles all with no regard to traffic signals or any rules of the road. What they did have was a sense of fair play and a longing to get to their destination by whatever means. Therefore driving through red lights seemed ok, driving on any side of the road, even the footpath was also deemed acceptable. All sorts and everyone travelled by small motorbike, or large moped. Also popular in southern med countries and other parts of the world. Its quite a picture to see them stack up so high so much luggage of any form. Also families, Dad on the front, Mum on the back and the young nipper squeezed in between them.

We finally made it to the station, I posted some postcards and bought some food and got on the train.
The train left at 7:40pm precisely, and I think I was asleep at 7:45 What an extraordinary 24 hour period.

 

Thur 18 Dec 2008 – 7:22am
I have bunk number 7, the top bunk. I requested the top bunk as I read it on a web site that its favoured as you can always have your own space. Its true I can confirm. To sit, it is understood that all occupants of the cabin sit on the lower bunks. The seat closest to the window belong to the person designated to the lower bunk. This ‘soft class’ carriage contains 8 cabins, each cabin with 4 bunks. A bathroom is at each end, one western, the other Asian. The hard class carriages looks about the same but each cabin has 6 bunks. The difference of course is the 2 extra humans occupying the same amount of space. When it comes to snoring and body oder that does make a difference.

 

The breakfast trolley came around and for a few tens of thousands of VD I bought a bowl of dry rice with a sparse topping of small mushrooms, onions and some slightly green vegetable, accompanied by two hard boiled eggs and washed down with a cup of coffee. It all tasted great. Thanks to the baptism by fire yesterday I was already into the swing of things.
I should mention that the only thing that they got right about the coffee was that it was wet and hot. From there the similarity to real coffee ended and local culture took over. But somehow it tasted great.

Thu 18 Dec 6:55pm
My first 24 hour period on the train and its been terrific. A continual rolling scenery going past, passengers to chat to, in somewhat broken English, plus my music collection, my books, taking a few photos and even email and internet became available through my mobile phone. So, plenty to keep me occupied. I can send photos directly from my camera to my web site blog. That is just so clever. I could send text too, but I simply find the phone keypad too time consuming. Well, ok, I have the time, but its just so frustrating I’d rather not. One other advantage of these ‘1st/soft class cabins is that they each come with a power outlet, handy for charging up my phone etc.

Friday 19 December, 7:51am
Happy Birthday Louise. Wish you were here, though I expect this is not your cup of tea.
Some other foreigners, a single man and a couple, boarded the train last night, and got off this morning. Apart from them I have been the only foreigner aboard. I spoke briefly to a young Australian man, I’d guess in his late twenties. He is back packing around indo-china until the 12 Jan before he needs to return home to Australia. He asked me about my travel plans and I told him of my journey to London. He was amazed. I guess its not the normal hippy back-packer type of trip. Last night I explained through maps and numbers about my journey to the Vietnamese fellows I share the cabin with. They seemed to find it difficult to believe, and I got the feeling they thought I was crazy. Maybe I am.

Arrival in Hanoi: oops, I missed the exact time but it was close enough to say spot on.
I took a taxi to the Victory Hotel, just a few blocks from the station and had a shower. I feel great. Well rested, refreshed and clean. I still have about half a million Vietnamese Dong on me so I must go and spend it. I went to the old quarter of the city, which lived up nicely to its reputation. Purchased some artwork, ate, drank, took lots of photos and purchased a watch. I explained to the shop assistant that I was was going somewhere where I needed a watch that displayed the date.
I returned to the hotel late in the afternoon and by early evening I was on a new train bound for Beijing.

Sat 20 Dec 8:46am
I’m writing this perched up here coincidently in berth number 7 again.  I’m in my comfort zone, quietly pleased that my bag fits comfortably in the slot at the end of the bunk, while thankful that I had the foresight to pack such things as this pocket computer to keep notes, my phone that can surf the net, sends and receives emails and SMS’s, and that great feature of sending photos direct to my blog. And so far there has been a good phone signal all the way since Saigon. Plus the bonus that there is a power outlet, not in our cabin this time, but just outside across the passageway. How good is that? So, I think I’ll just sit back, put on my superb Bose QC2 headphones and listen to a few of the several hundred songs I transferred to my MP3 player while watching the scenery of the Chinese landscape go past. Or maybe I’ll choose one of my excellent travel books from my small library I’m carrying with me. wait up a bit, a Chinese fellow in a blue uniform with a trolley of fresh fruit has just arrived at our cabin… can life get any better than this?

This is the second train I, along with all the other passengers have travelled in since departing Hanoi yesterday evening. The procedure on leaving Hanoi was simple enough. I walked from the Victory hotel to the station as it was just around the corner. At 6:30pm exactly, the train pulled out of Hanoi station. It was a sleeper, the same design as the one up from Saigon. However, there were no pillows or blankets and we were told that we would be changing trains at the border.

I shared a few local beers with my new Singaporean cabin-mate, William, a 50 year old photography teacher at one of the universities who had simply taken some time out to travel by train to Moscow. It was a little of a surprise for us to discover that we both had very similar plans. They differ a little upon arrival in Moscow as he is still deciding if he will continue to Europe or return home to Singapore. He does not have a ticket for the trans-Mongolian despite his desire to be on the same train as me, i.e. the 24 Dec. It will be curious to see if there is availability. He is relying on the history that there are not so many travellers over the winter period.

Also on this journey are two young Dutch girls, an older American chap who works in the mining industry, has lived in China for 12 years and now lives with his Vietnamese girl-friend in Ho Chi Min City. Plus two stocky Mongolian ladies who have come down from Mongolia to stock up on goods either unavailable or much cheaper than in Mongolia. They have 4 or 5 large bags between them packed full of mostly over the counter style medicines.
At the border, around 11:00pm we all were encouraged to take our bags and proceed to a very large building to go through Vietnamese exit formalities.
Including the above mentioned people there were about 16 or so of us, the others were either Vietnamese or Chinese nationals.

After this predicable delay we went back to the train to discover that it had been swapped over for a Chinese train. Also the same design inside. but with a nicer finish than the Vietnamese version. Once underway, the Chinese immigration came through the train and went through their formalities. They also informed us that at 6 oclock in the morning we would need to get off, but leave our bags behind, and go to a waiting room to rest until 9:15am then return to the train. Indeed this did happen, but why? -this whole palaver was very much a topic of conversation amongst us foreigners while waiting in their very grand waiting room. But we also chatted about a range of subjects and our experiences to use up the time. When we returned to the train we found that many other carriages had been added to it, including a dining carriage.

I received an SMS from Louise yesterday, responding to my birthday wish to her yesterday. She says they are “stuck in Pheonix and are hoping to make it to the UK b4 Xmas”. I can only guess that the weather is holding things up, though not sure if they have been to Florida as yet.

Sunday 21 Dec
The train arrived at Beijing at about 12:30pm, much earlier than the scheduled 1:38pm as displayed in the timetables. As we were expecting, it was cold outside. What we didn’t realise is just how cold. Unbeknown to us a sudden cold front had come in from the north. We bundled out of the train and was faced with temperatures of between minus 12 and minus 7. Yikes! – I’m not kidding, this was even big news in Beijing today as I discovered by watching the TV later in the evening. Add to that a ferocious icy wind that just tore right through whatever we were wearing. What a shock!

To add to this, there was a deafening noise on the platform, people trying to shout above the wind and the din of the trolley carts running over the platform. What a chaotic place. People everywhere. It was very exciting.

A small group of us literally followed the crowd off the platform. I stuck with the Dutch girls as they needed to find an ATM to pay me back some money I had lent them earlier. Then we parted company, taking taxis to our different hotels. I checked into the Haoyuan Hotel and managed an upgrade on the way through based on their low occupancy and that their web site was offering a lower rate that the one they had charged me months earlier when I booked it over the internet. So now here I sit in the Delux suite. I recognize it from the photos on the internet. Its old style Chinese décor is really nice, though not really practical, i.e. the light is very dim. no bedside table, furniture, as impressive as it is, is not in a very practical position. Still it doesn’t really matter as I’m not here on business. I walked around a little this afternoon, not fully aware of the prevailing temperature – I found out later on local English station tv: CCTV – and anyway, others were walking around outside, so thought I just need to acclimatise…

But it was cold, really super cold, colder than I had felt for many years. In the upmarket shopping malls of Beijing’s central shopping district I bought a scarf and a pair of gloves, a necessity. By the time I got back to the hotel my fingers and toes had no feeling in them, unless one could consider pain a feeling.

Monday 22 Dec 6:31pm
I’m in the restaurant of the Huayan hotel in Beijing and I’ve needed to turn on the backlight of this screen to properly see what I’m typing. This is in part due to my poor eyesight, though the poor lighting in here doesn’t help. I’m the only one here and I notice that the lights above the other tables are turned off, thereby effecting the amount of light in the room in general. So, pleased that in eating here this evening I am reducing the carbon footprint of this place on the planet while at the same time enjoying a Tsingtao beer while waiting for my dinner.

Today I was part of a tour together with five others (Chinese, Canadian and Australian) to the Great Wall of China. A location that has always inspired me, with much the same iconic value as the pyramids. I was suitably impressed. As the great wall loomed up behind the guide as we approached, I felt the anticipation of seeing one of the great iconic landmarks of the world.

Me wrapped up from the severe cold on the Great Wall.

I wasn’t disappointed. It lived up to its name, but with a few unexpected extras.
Firstly I must mention the somewhat unusual if not novel way of getting us tourists to the wall. Something they call a ‘sled’ which, true to its name is a sled on a rail system that conveys tourists at a rather smart rate up to this particular portion of the wall. It reminded me of the initial part of the ‘Space Mountain’ ride at Disneyland some years ago. One was given the option to climb up the mountainside, but I considered the ‘sled’ another form of train travel so I went for that option instead.

Tuesday 23 Dec 20008 – 7:06pm
It was still cold today, though the extreme cold front has reportedly moved south leaving us with temperatures of about zero. In the sun it felt a little warmer, though in the shade with a little wind it could easily be lower. I went to the famed Forbidden City. As with yesterday on the wall, there are still quite a number of tourists, almost all Chinese. It must be unbearable in the summer. After an hour or so with the recorded electronic tour guide – I loved its auto location detect feature – I left and strolled past Tienanmen square. I then ventured into the local subway system. I had heard it was relatively easy for westerners to use, though as I tried to navigate the map and the ticket vending machine I was beginning to wonder… However, it all came good in the end and now I would confess in joining the ranks of those who say that the Beijing subway is easy and convenient way around the city.

I’ve checked out and ordered a taxi for tomorrow morning’s 6:15am departure. I’ve had the girls on the front desk write the name of the train station in Chinese on a card for the benefit of the taxi driver so I guess I’m all set. After gorging myself on a variety of Chinese food these past few days, I opted for a bowl of do-it-yourself noodles this evening, especially as last night I felt uncomfortable and had a restless sleep as a result of too much food. The noodles make a great little meal. they are very light, perfect for on the train as one doesn’t need a lot of heavy food. I noticed that with a regular intake, say one a day combined with other locally prepared ‘train food’ that my bowels were less worked.

Wed 24 Dec 2008 – 8:50am
I arrived at the station about 6:30 this morning. It was still dark and at this hour the traffic was tame and the crowds relatively small. There was an airport style baggage x-ray to go through, much like that on the underground yesterday. After a little wait with about a hundred or so others – I noticed only two other foreigners (back-packers) – we moved through to the platform and found my carriage; number 10.

Its great, I’m so pleased I opted for first class, this carriage certainly lives up to its class namesake. Just like the descriptions and photos on the internet but better in that I am actually standing here for real. Fully carpeted, with all wood panelling, just two bunks, one above the other, and as requested I’m allocated to the upper bunk. There is a table together with a single armchair opposite. It has its own private bathroom (shared with the next-door cabin) which includes a shower. I’m impressed.

There is a visitors book in the corridor. One of the entries says: “…I lived in this cabin for six days, it was home for me, nice and warm memories…” I agree already. There were also many nice entries about the conductors which bodes well. I’m sharing with a middle aged well dressed Chinese man who is going to Ulaan Batar. With only one other in the cabin the place is roomy and quiet. Just perfect. I’m very pleased to be back on the train again, especially this one. Hold on a min, there’s someone tapping on our door… The conductor just brought in some free meal tickets for lunch and dinner. This is getting better all the time!

Beijing was interesting but tiresome. The cold weather made it tough work to walk around and see the sights. I was beginning to feel restless. Its good to be back on the trains.

The scenery is quite dramatic. Mountainous with deep gorges. the train entering long tunnels at times. The land is vary sparse and brown.
I’m reading Paul Theroux’s ‘Freash Air Fiend’ Paul is a train travelling fanatic so its a perfect train travelling book.
Lunch in the dining car was a bustle of activity. Lunch itself consisted of rice with a type of scrambled egg side dish. Another plate which we thought was diced apple or pear perhaps turned out to be a squash like vegetable.

I ate with the two Americans from the cabin next door, Linda and Ted. They appear to be in the mid 50s, from Seattle WA, very well travelled people. A pleasure to be with. I also met William, the Singaporean from the Hanoi-Beijing train. He had managed to buy a ticket and was now travelling in 2nd class through to Moscow. It was great to see him again. The Americans get off at Ulan-Bator, Mongolia.

With the MP3 player set to shuffle it keeps me amused with its selection, from comedy to classics, rock to pop. Had a great view of the great wall after lunch. It was on our eastern side running in the foothills of the mountains.

Thur 25 Dec 2008 – 10:18am
As I had secretly hoped, Christmas day and not a murmur of it anywhere. Neither the Mongols or the Chinese celebrate this Christian affair and the few westerners aboard seem content to let the whole thing go by. The weather is of more interest, with my cabin neighbour discovering from his blackberry that the local temperature outside is -28 degrees C. There is a light snow over the flat and arid landscape. This is the very north western part of the Gobi desert. The sun is out in a cloudless sky so its quite deceptive as we sit here in our comfortably heated cabins.

Last night was fascinating in that we went through Chinese and Mongolian immigration formalities together with the task of waiting for the locals to swap each and every carriage’s bogis (wheels) over to the slightly wider size to suit the Mongolian and eventually Russian train tracks. This sounds a mammoth task but its done with such regularity that they make it look easy. Simply jacking up all the carriages and then sliding the old wheels out, and the new in. It took nearly 2 hours plus another hour or three with immigration. There was no anxiety in all this as is sometimes the case with travellers when confronted with what appears to be extended delays. It is well documented and the arrivals and departure times are posted up on the wall of each carriage. We eventually departed into Mongolia at about 1:40 in the morning.

In last nights border crossing they changed over the dining carriage too. The colourful Mongolian version is far more attractive then the Chinese counterpart.
I had my first shower on board today, to complete my morning ablutions.

I can’t wait for the next stop to get outside and have a taste of this weather.
This happened not long later in Ulan-Bator. It was cold but bearable. Not quite the minus 30s that it been reported recently but certainly minus 10 or 20, its a little difficult for me to tell at this range.
I had a walk around the station and bought a watercolour from a local chap, also got quite a good photo of him too.
I have a new cabin mate now. Though all the other cabins on my carriage are empty they have placed this person with me – go figure… This well dressed Mongolian turns out to be, well lets just say someone with a bit of political clout in Irkisk. He slept most of the afternoon while I listened to music and admired the changing scenery, collecting photographs along the way. You will need to read a guide book for description of the scenery. If you ever do this trip, its best to clean your own carriage windows on the outside when you stop at the stations.

Later that day we got chatting and he pulled out a tin containing pieces of meat. He offered one to me, asking if I had ever eaten horse meat. I don’t recall doing so and gratefully accepted his offer. Its a strong flavoured meat, quite nice and seamed appropriate for this weather. He asked me what I thought of it. I said I felt more in control of a horse when eating it than when riding one.

Later we went down to the dining carriage. We met William there, he now has not only a cabin to himself, but the entire carriage. There are so few people on the train I’m thinking of calling it the ghost train.

Mongolian beer is a pleasant 4.3% surprise. Its a rich taste and I quite happily put a few away. For dinner I asked the waitress if the dining car had any horse meat to eat, alas they didn’t but when my diplomat friend heard I was after horse meat he very generously sent one of the staff up to our cabin to retrieve his tin of horse meat. I didn’t really wish to eat his horse but didn’t wish offend either, so I ended up eating most of his horse through the remainder of the evening.

At around 9pm the dining car staff finished up but joined an adjacent table and chatted to my diplomat friend who was by now getting steadily plastered on the vodka. Inevitably the offer of the Mongolian vodka was extended and while I had quietly promised myself prior to this trip that I would steer clear of this stuff, I now found myself happily accepting a glass.    

I’m very glad I did as its delicious, it reminded me of the high end Polish vodka. As the evening progressed on the diplomat managed to get some vodka into the girls and the singing started. Somewhere later through the evening I found myself standing on a chair singing a chorus of Walzting Matilda as is the protocol of such customs.

Despite the Christmas decoration set up on the ceiling of the dining carriage, (or was that always like that?) my diplomat friend had no idea today was Christmas day. He had heard of Christmas, vaguely, and it soon became the cause for a toast to our custom, other than that he was amazed that Christmas was just one day.

All in all a nice close to the day which I may even have some good video footage of too. However, this was not the end of the evening and after we returned to our cabins around 10 or 11pm we were confronted first with the Mongolian exit officials and then the Russian entry immigration and customs. My diplomat friend, now highly toxic on the vodka was keen to display some power and began by inviting the Russian immigration into our cabin and poured him a shot of vodka. He used my empty coffee cup which I made a note to myself to remember to wash it out thoroughly before my coffee tomorrow morning.

It is not often you see a Russian immigration officer drinking vodka while collecting your passport, but there it was, indeed the body language alone revealed that the Mongolian diplomat was higher ranking than the Russian officer.
It was just turning midnight when we finished with all the formalities. Our total time in Mongolia was just an hour or so over a day. Christmas day.

Friday 26 December 2008 – 13:07
I had a restless sleep due to the vodka in my brain. Waking up several times with a let us say moderate headache. However I finally awoke around 8:40am feeling quite dehydrated,   but otherwise mostly fine. I notice that the diplomat has pretty much finished off all my mandarins, thats fair enough I guess as I ate most of his horse last night.

We were at Ulan Ude, This is where the Trans-Mongolian tracks join with the Trans-Siberian tracks. The stop was for 30 minutes, I stood at the open door in a shirt and slippers. Despite my aching head, I felt the extreme cold. The conductor reported the outside temperature was at minus 32. Certainly I could agree that it was very cold, though I could not even guess that it was that temperature.

Now the Mongolian dining car has been replaced with the Russian dining car. Its right at the end of the train, about 4 or 5 carriages from me. I think I am about in the centre of the train. The train has about 10 or so carriages in total, the best I can judge as we go round the bends.

I met up with William and Emanuel, an Indian gentleman, also from Singapore. He is in the other first class carriage in front of me. Quite an interesting fellow, he travels quite a lot as he reports to be in the banking/publishing industry. One of his degrees is in law, as he said in passing during one of our conversations. Reminds me of Paul Thereox’s comments on this style of placing several or more boasts into a single sentence.

We had beefsteak with a fried egg, chips and a bit of a salad. That’s Russian isn’t it? For $15 it was quite good, certainly a bit of a life saver meal after last night. The clock on the wall in the dining car is set to Moscow time, a five hour time difference from our current time. We determined that we will need to adjust our clocks back an hour and a quarter each day to keep local time relevant to our position. It is noted that the timetable posted on the wall in our carriage is only based on Moscow time, one really needs to have two time pieces if one wishes to keep in touch with everything.

We have sided up to lake Baikal, the infamous deepest freshwater lake in the world. It is certainly large, looks like an ocean from here, i.e.no land on the horizon. Despite a good layer of snow on the ground, the lake is quite clearly water, (I expected it to be frozen over) though I notice chunks of ice bobbing up and down in the waves, its a little choppy due to the wind.

A cup of green tea was the perfect accompaniment to a little more music as we coast our way through this frozen vista.

One curious mindset I noticed is that of people’s appearance. As we have been travelling through the countries I’ve come to expect and anticipate the differences in the looks of the local people. I had never seen a Mongol before so that was interesting. Their eyes are amazing. However upon reaching Russia, that final country and frontier, this, its eastern and southerly region, the Siberian Russia, I was anticipating the change, but instead I was met by people who looked, well, just like me. The customs lady could have been a girl I would pass in the street back home. This caught me off balance a little, a kind of inverse culture shock. These Russians are Caucasians, well of course they are everyone knows that and I’ve been to Moscow before so I should have known. I guess I was just caught unaware, thinking that coming into Russia via the back door so to speak I would encounter something different on this side, but no.

17:12
We stopped at Irtusk, and my diplomat friend, who has spent the entire afternoon consuming even more vodka has left the train. Actually some people came onto the train and practically carried him off. Now I not only have the cabin to myself, but with others leaving, the entire carriage. The conductor and I cleaned the cabin up and now I can truly spread out here, put my feet up on the seat opposite and settle down to a nice cup of green tea. Now where’s my slippers. It’s an odd feeling sitting here in the warmth of this cabin, looking out on the freezing landscape. People huddling from the cold, displayed as -16 at Irkutsk station tower.

It’s 5:30pm now and its nearly dark. I believe William and Emanual are in a similar situation, i.e. they have their own cabin and their own carriage each to themselves. There are so few people on this train. The ghost train from the east. Just a smattering of Russians and three foreigners.

We stopped in the early evening at Zima, about halfway from Lake Baika to Krosnoyarsk. Its not marked on most of our maps. It was a fair size station and the stop was for 20minutes. The temperature as displayed on the digital sign was minus -22 celcius. Of course we went outside. How could you miss this? There were a few small small shops open selling the usual assortment of noodles, biscuits, cold meat, bread and alcohol.

Saturday 27 December 2008
Day four, still in Siberia, still a rolling scenery of birch trees, snow and more snow. Dotted along the way with small towns. Generally not a soul in sight.
I’ve changed my watch to Moscow time. As the timetable on the wall is in Moscow time, its far easier to predict where one is and when the next stop will be and for how long. The local time is constantly changing. Yes, I know time is constantly changing, but this time is changing at a different rate, think of it as a type of time travel thing going on here. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that its not necessary to know the exact time. Morning, afternoon or evening is easily enough information. My watch that displays the date is more useful. At the time of writing, with the aid of my Russian map with the time zones on it, I know I am about four and a bit hours ahead of Moscow time. Which in itself turned out to be not such a useful piece of information anyway.

William dropped by and we went down to the dining car together for a breakfast of bread, cheese and coffee. I changed some US dollars to Rubals at an exchange rate of 23 to the dollar. I imagine thats not the bank rate but I’m not particularly bothered.

I’m following the route in the Lonely Planet guide book and note that we have just passed the half way mark between Beijing and Moscow at km 3,932.

 
At the station we’ve just stopped at, Malinsk I got off, along with the others to buy from the old ladies, affectionately known as Babushkas. (grandmothers) They sell ‘train swag’ by that I mean bread, meat, fish (it looks like I’ve bought some dried trout) plus sausage meat and all types of beer. The first beer (I’ve bought several varieties) I’m trying out right now is rated at 11%. Surprisingly it tastes quite like beer, I was fearing that it may be syrupy. I recall from the last stop is that despite the temperature sitting at -16, they still had the beer in a fridge. This was worth a laugh at first but then when I picked up a bottle of water from another Babushka (without a fridge) later on I noticed that it was frozen solid. I then realized that had they not kept the beer in the fridge, effectively warming it up, then it too would also be frozen and for those of you who have left a beer in your freezer overnight, this is not an ideal method of storage.

It struck me earlier today that maybe I do need a visa for Poland. I can’t recall if I ever looked that up. It seems strange that I would miss that. Did I just assumed that I didn’t? The last time I went to Poland I needed a visa, albeit that was 1997, could it be any different now, after all, I needed a visa for every other country on this trip east of Germany. Of course thoughts then race ahead to the scenario of being turned away at the border and the subsequent actions or options that I would need to do. Rather than sleep on these unpleasant scenarios over the next few days I started to make some inquiries. With my mobile still showing a few bars if signal strength I tried phoning the Australian embassy in Moscow to find out, I had their number in the guide book. However, I couldn’t get through. The guide book does mention pending changes to area codes prefixes, so that may be an issue. I tried calling RealRussia in London (a visa agency) but couldn’t get through there either. In the end, useing the internet feature of my phone, I opened my Opera browser and googled ‘australian visa poland’ fortunately, the search returned a first listing of a site that clearly announced that as of late 2007 Australians no longer required a visa.. whew … all back to normal. Thank you to internet technology and Mr Google.

Its now five hours until the next stop. With nobody else around on this ghost train I think I’ll pour myself a drink, chill out, sit back and enjoy the scenery with some lively soundtracks from my MP3 player and these amazing QC2 headphones. I’ve yet to hear the same piece of music twice as yet.
One of the over-riding memories I will take away from this place is the snow. In fact if anyone ever asks me what I viewed from the train I will be able to say I remember a lot of snow. Snow over the land, on trees, buildings, rivers, bridges, other trains. Everything with a layer of snow over it. That will be how I remember the views from the Trans-Mongolian.

Its towards the close of day four and almost to my surprise I’m nearly bored with this big old journey across Russia. That’s good, I haven’t been bored for years. I still like the adventure of the train journey, and most probably I will feel a sense of achievement at the end of this section, but just now I looked around and said to myself: “hmmmm” Not that I have run out of things to do, there are still more songs to listen to, more books to read, and if the creativity is there, something more to write. It must be said though that we are very short of people on this train.

I’ve chosen very train travel related books for this trip. including:
Lonely Planet – Trans-Siberian Railway
V.S. Naipaul – A Bend in The River
Paul Theroux – Sunrise With SeaMonsters
Paul Theroux – Fresh Air Fiend
Paul Theroux – Ghost Train To The Eastern Star
Colin Thurbon – In Siberia

Sunday 28 December 2008
6:29am Moscow time, about 8:30am local time. (maybe)
We are about an hour’s travel from Tyumen. I was awake over an hour ago and realized that I had been in bed for the best part of 8 or so hours so that was enough. I’ve showered and shaved, and eaten some bread and mandarins purchased from the Babushkas yesterday. Followed by a lovely cup of green tea. One of the bread rolls had a filling of semi mashed potatoes, very nice touch.

Dawn is just now starting to emerge revealing, surprise surprise, snow covered ground, trees etc etc. This is day five and the enormity of the journey is sinking in. This train is my life, my routine. Every day I live to the sound of train over tracks.  We arrive in Moscow tomorrow afternoon. This compartment in this train seems to be my normal life now. Any change will bound to be unsettling.

9:16am
There is definitely a noticeable difference with the layer of snow outside. Proof that we are not going around in endless circles. There is less of it, its still on the ground, but not hanging in the trees. It was noticeably warmer at the last station too. Whoa, hang on bit, I’ve just seen more snow clinging to the branches of the birch trees, weighing them down. Maybe nothing has changed. Maybe we are going around in circles…

Soon, accordingly to the guide book, we will be leaving Siberia.
I changed US$40 with a taxi driver at one of the stations and bought bread, beer, fish, noodles and more mandarins. You can get a lot done on these longer 30 minute stops. Purchasing direct off the station stalls is  much cheaper and more variety than the dining car. I’m all set for the afternoon.

I sent Louise and Sebastian an SMS letting them know that “…I have just crossed the Euro/Asia line, some 1700km east of Moscow…’ and that I miss them “…soooo much!…” She responded almost immediately with similar emotions.

Its snowing quite heavily outside. As the train moves through the snow, the snow appears to be moving horizontally. A layer of snow on everything, birch trees forever. Yes, I know I’ve already mentioned the snow.
There are two types of scenery, items close up, which is fatiguing to try to observe and the far off wide spaced panoramic, which are a pleasure to view. There are of course the midways, i.e. scenery set back from the tracks about 40ft or so, if you position yourself to see forward (or back) a little these images are ok.

The Russians, by the way show great dexterity on this train. They prepare their own food, and from what I can glance as I pass by are quite substantial meals. They also have their extension power cables, plugs, adapters and converters to either power up or charge up their equipment (everything from mobile phones to ghetto blasters)
My phone has reverted to a message stated: ’emergency calls only’ which suggests that is for the most part out of range. I have as yet not heard back from Louise following my request to her to send flowers to my mother for her birthday. Something I meant to arrange in advance before I departed.

I do often wonder how things are with Louise and Sebastian. I miss them more than I anticipated. Not that I didn’t think that I would miss them but at that time my mind was looking forward to the space and difference that comes with the long distance travel that I had planned. This at the expense of closer to the heart domestic affairs.

I should add here that I carry with me a profound image, that of Louise and Sebastian making their way, walking into the international terminal at Brisbane. I had just dropped them off and I lingered in the car to see them through…… – or – as I waited for a break in the traffic to pull out.. I saw the two of them walk in through those over sized doors that make for the entrance to the airport and the gateway to other parts of the world. It seemed so humbling to see those two figures, seemingly so innocent, that mean so much to me dwarfed by those huge doors, and that huge building. What have I done! – let the two most precious people in my life walk off into such uncertainty. But wait, lets remind ourselves, this is a scheduled flight from Brisbane to LA. In the bigger picture of life, no more uncertain or mysterious than the journey I was about to undertake in the following week. None-the-less it is a haunting if not memorable image that I suspect will stay with me forever.

I believe I can finally say that Siberia is over. In fact Asia is over. Long live Europe. Though, despite the landmarks that dictate such statements, I really see no difference to the outside scenery at all.

I’ve just been informed that this train of eleven carriages, currently has on board 22 conductors and 14 passengers. This official count is from Dyion, the conductor for the carriage I am occupying. Dyion is from Beijing and will have a day off in Moscow then back to work on the return journey to Beijing.

As I gaze out upon the scenery, I wonder to myself if I have ever seen so much snow? its seems so never ending. Sometimes the train would travel by a steep bank of snow, offering a blur of a wall of snow, hardly useful viewing.

21:40
Just departed Perm, home of Gulag. At just -8 c. it seemed quite mild compared to what we have been experiencing. Next station three hours away…
Decided to have an evening staying in tonight. I imagine the other travellers (the other two of them that speak English) thought the same as nobody dropped by. I feel for the poor family running the dining car this evening as I imagine they had no business at all. At any rate, I had some quality time reading, writing and listing to music. Went to sleep early, around 7:30pm Moscow time, say around 9 local time.

Monday 29 Dec 2008, 7:49am Moscow time
Day 6 on the Trans-Mongolian express, the six and a half day 6 billion mile journey across a third of the planet. I wrote that down just to remind myself why I keep waking up every day on a train, it  seems like some reoccurring dream. Didn’t I just do all this yesterday? I woke early around 5:00am Moscow time. It was still dark outside while I had my morning cup of green tea, which I love. Later, I ate my ‘train food’ as purchased from the little stalls at the stops yesterday, bread rolls with mashed potato inside, mandarins, regular bread and black coffee.

The view outside is still snow covered everything. I notice I’m getting low on cash. Strangely I have not brought my ATM card along, what could I have been thinking?  – relying on cash and credit cards instead. Though the credit card is as good as useless on this train and at the station stalls.

Its the last day of this train journey today. Its due to arrive at 2:19 this afternoon. The plan is to go into Moscow central to see some sights but the lateness of the day, the cold weather and the logistics of navigating the Metro with my bags may be too much.

The train arrived in Moscow at 2.30pm, eight minutes early. How did they do that?
William and I finally decided that we should and will get a metro to the red square, so off we trudged into the cold and sludge. The main reason we agreed to get the metro rather than a taxi was that my guide book said it was ‘quick and easy’. However, we found that it was anything but. Certainly the metro map had the phonetic version of each word next to the Cyrillic, but it was just as unpronounceable. I addition, after buying a ticket, it was then almost impossible to determine which platform to go to. Again, one needed to be fluent in Cyrillic to get any further. Imagine too the chaos of the crowds down here. The guide book says 8 million people a day use the Moscow metro, from my current position I wouldn’t argue with that at all.

The interesting thing was that in times of utter bewilderment, we always found a way out, either someone came up to us or we went up to them as was the case when two young American men came up to us when we were looking at our first metro map. They had only been here for a few days days but that was clearly an advantage. Their best piece of advise was to take a photo of the metro map, coincidently he had the same camera as me, and then you could refer to it at any time, or zoom in on the location you wanted to go to and go show it to someone, who could at least point you into the right direction. This feature I used several times.

The Red Square with the Kremlin and St Basils Cathedral was great to see, a real milestone. Objective accomplished, achievement realised. And to think I nearly didn’t  take this little metro journey because of the ‘hassle’ – oh good grief…

After eating fried pork in a restaurant near the station I am now waiting in a very uninviting waiting room for my 21:30 train to Cologne.

Eventually the time came by and despite making no sense out of the electronic display board or from anyone I tried to ask by showing them my ticket together with a look of helplessness, I ended up outside looking for something that may help identify the train I’m looking for.
I soon began to see the system, a different notice board with departure times and train numbers. My ticket had a departure time of 21:09 and was train #11. So by this means I found my train. The reason no one could help me was that my train was going through to Amsterdam, so it was posted up as an Amsterdam train, not Cologne.

Another 1st class cabin for the next few days. Two to a compartment. Its quite a full train. Quite a different scene to that of the past week. My travelling companion’s name is Igor. He is Russian, but either lives or spends a lot of time in Hanover. He is scared of flying Aeroflot and says Lufthansa is very expensive. 42 years of age, well presented as is the case with all 1st class passengers on my journey. He has almost no English but through a few words of English, German and sign language etc we have managed basic communication. He is well prepared with food having brought a loaf of black bread, and sealed plastic wraps of salmon and mixed hams. He is very generous and courteous.

Tue30 Dec 2008 – 9:20am
This carriage is traveling the other way around when compared to the previous train, therefore the orientation of direction is reversed, giving the feeling that we are traveling east.

Curiously, I’m not sick of train travel yet! I thought this might be the difficult (mentally) part of the journey, but its not, in fact I’m loving it madly. Its so relaxing. I eat, read, write, chat, listen to music and sleep.

We crossed the border into Poland at Terespol. It doesn’t appear that much has changed in Poland since I left it some 10 or so years ago (that’s not true at all as I know really lots have changed, but I guess not much here in Terespol train station).

Here the bogies are being changed over to the narrower (4’8″) from the Larger (5′ /1.5m) Russian versions. The process was exactly the same as that on the Chinese/Mongolian border, same equipment etc, must be all russian made.
I bought some food from the local babushkas, bread, chicken & potatoes. good on them 🙂
After lengthy, but expected delays with the border crossing we finally got on our way again. My cabin mate, Igor, produced a bottle of bourdoux and we shared it and all the food we had.
As Igor was due to get off in Hannover at 2:30am, and myself not too much later at 6:14, we turned in quite early, about 7:30pm

Wed 31dec
Relative to the past two weeks, this is to be a very busy day. There are four train changes I need to make with the last train being the final one in England, some 818km from here. I will admit that there is some anxiety here associated with all the trains running to time to allow me to make my connections.  Family in Worcester are meeting me at their local station at 3:59pm this very afternoon, so I really feel I need to make it. Getting to Worcester from this far away is only possible with the two high speed trains I’m about to catch, the first being the Thalys train, then the Eurostar.

As expected I was woken by Igor as he was getting off, around 2:30am and never really got back to sleep again, but thats ok, I reminded myself about the past 14 days, noting that tonight was my last night on a sleeper train.

We arrived in Cologne to the minute, that’s German efficiency for you. The Thalys high speed train platform at Cologne was easy to find, I even had time to go outside and go into the Cathedral for a look around.

The Thalys train really is quite fast. After weeks of 50 to 80 km/hour through Asia/Russia we are now travelling at an astonishing 300 km/hour. (I’m not kidding: three hundred km/h)

The change-over at Brussels was just as easy, picking my ticket up from the counter as expected. That too was purchased over the internet about a month ago.

My mind is starting to focus on scenery that I’m more familiar with now. Belgium, northern France. It seems preposterous that I am actually here as I somehow feel that I got onto this train in Asia not so long ago, so, I feel should be in Asia somewhere -ish but outside, well, this is Europe somewhere – ish. Gosh, I think that’s remarkable.

The Eurostar is just as fast with speeds up to 300km/hour. Like the Thalys, its such a smooth ride, you would never guess the speed but for the fact that when we came alongside a motorway we were at least double the speed of the fastest cars. I’ve been pushed into the 21t century. The train is full, the festivities of Christmas and new year are lingering. I’ll be with family myself soon.

St Pancreas Station, London. Now, Eurostar not only goes under the English channel but also goes right under London.  It wasn’t like that when I was here last.

Out of the train and onto the platform. Everything is suddenly very English.
This is England!
I’ve just come off the train from Vietnam, though no-one’s asking.
I’m determined to keep my schedule. Now its really important to me. I’m so close. Every train so far has been either on time or early. Just one tube and one more train to complete this odyssey.

The station is packed, with cues for tickets a mile long in every direction. Finally I’m on the tube bound for Paddington. I’ve lost a lot of time waiting in the cues and the last train connection looks nearly unreachable. Memories of my life during the time I lived here flood back. Nothing much inside this tube carriage has changed, and why should it, its fine as it is. We stop at Edgware road, I used to travel here everyday for work at one stage in the past. At Paddington I exit the train turn right and make my way up the steps. It’s as though I was here yesterday, very curious thoughts.

Time is running out, its like one of those ridiculous reality TV shows – “Will he make it in time?!” I collect my pre-paid ticket from a vending machine. “Insert the card you used to make the purchase for verification” – Lucky I bought that one with me as it goes…

I literally run onto the platform with just minutes to spare before the train departs. I find my reserved seat and as the train pulls out of the station I sit down. Outside the scenery starts to roll by once again, but this time its very familiar. This really is England. Of course its I know its England. I planned this myself.  This is the very last train ride on this trip.  The enormity of the trip starts to sink in. I find myself repeating the same thing in slightly varying ways:

I’ve just travelled two weeks almost continually on trains from the southern tip of mainland Asia to arrive here, in England.

Oh my…

I’m met at Worcester Shrub Hill by Louise, Sebastian, Maureen and Paddy. Together with a photographer and reporter  from the local newspaper.  Louise tipped me off  about an hour ago, so I had time to prepare some answers to the expected questions.

As at 12 Jan  2009:

The trip is complete, thanks go out to all those people who helped along the way.
It all went precisely as planned. I was quite surprised really. If anything trains arrived early rather than late, and everyone one of them departed on the minute.

I’ll update this site with some pictures if I get the time, email me if you would like to know any info.

The local press was alerted to my arrival in Worcester.

Worcester News

or pdf version here: Back safe from Vietnam – 10,000 miles by train | Worcester News

and the other is in this PDF file: here: Worcester Standard