This was the stuff of travel programmes, old fashioned
novels and views from coffee table books.
I couldn't believe we were finally boarding the train, a journey of five
and a half days that would take us out from Beijing across China to Mongolia,
where we would cross great plains and vast open spaces before eventually
arriving in Moscow. Of course we could
have flown, but that's not what great journeys are about is it.
Buying our tickets at some back of beyond travel agency
in Shanghai meant we were doing the trip ourselves. Letters of 'invitation' had been downloaded from
a promising website, and now two pristine full page visa stickers graced our
passports, our official permission to enter two of the most closed and intriguing
countries at the time.
We had a compartment back in second class, bunks enough
for four, the three of us and an unsuspecting young Chinese man 'Fu' who was
leaving China for the first time and was to be an interesting travelling
companion. Unlike the Chinese trains we
had been travelling on with their open corridors of bunks, our room even had a
lockable door and the first class facilities of a mirror, bed lights and a
small table fixed to the wall. This was
to be our space for the best part of a week.
The train pulled out of the station at 7.40am, we celebrated
with an iced coffee as we stared out of the window as the train past the Great
Wall. Sitting by the window just looking
would take up much of our time over the next few days. Magnificent views were not hard to come by on
this trip, remote farmland, vast open spaces with the occasional isolated
settlement, horses galloping across the plains, cattle grazing, a yurt in the
middle of nothingness. Forests, fields,
train stations in places with no signs of human habitation, and the vast lakes
of southern Russia. Just one day of this
would have been awesome, 5 days seemed over indulgent somehow. What a privilege to be able to see all of
these things.
Of course sitting on a train for 5 and a half days does
sometimes get tiresome. We created
activities to keep us occupied. Reading,
diary writing, cards, a Chinese board game and thinking ahead we had even
brought a guitar.
But a lot of our entertainment came from our fellow
passengers, we were the only Westerners on board. The rest of the train was full of Chinese and
Russian men, travelling to and from work contracts. The Chinese quickly settled in, we must have
missed the memo, as soon as we pulled out of Beijing station travel pyjamas
appeared on all and were to remain until Moscow. We also missed the bit of info about bringing
a lot of food on board. Many, many pot
noodles were consumed on the train and the smell of instant noodles became our
constant travelling companion. Of course
with the number of Russians on board there was also a fair amount of
drinking. The Chinese with their Baijiu
and the Russians with bottles of Vodka and as the journey progressed the mixing
of both as new found friends invited each other for parties in their cabins.
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| Changing the 'bogies' at the border |
Our new cabin friend 'Fu', allowed out for the first
time took the opportunity to get involved with these activities. Late one night he sneaked in like a naughty child
sneaking home late and trying not to wake his parents, something he failed in
spectacularly as he threw up all over the floor. His devastation of the night before was
obvious the following morning and we spent the rest of the day turning down constant
offers of noodles and feed. We were
slightly pleased that it didn't stop his enthusiasm the following evening, a
break out from the constrains and expectations of being a Chinese man in a
sometimes controlling society.
We sometimes ate in the dining car with its yellowing 'lace'
curtains, Formica tables and formidable waitress. It was never full, food here was not tasty or
particularly cheap. Strangely we could
see the appeal of the noodles. Instead
we took the opportunity to jump off the train at its daily stop where ever that
may be and buy items from the ladies that had baskets of goods, their offerings
changing at each different stops. Meals
were created with bread, dumplings and potatoes, all brought hot from the
baskets.
The time passed with surprising speed as the days fell
into an easy routine of sleep, eat, look, play.
And before we knew it we were approaching the outskirts of Moscow and
the next stage in our journey the long way home. Would I do this journey again? in a shot if I
got the chance. It's rare to find the
time in this life just to sit and stare and there's no better place to do this
than from the carriage of a train ,with its constant and reassuring noise as
the train winds its way across great distances into the horizon of bright blue
vast open skies ahead.
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