Life aboard the Trans-European Express

The train just before departing Paris.

With a clunking of pistons my train jolted its way out of Paris; and I began to fill with a little excitement, thinking of the coming journeys and experiences of the months ahead. I was all alone, and rolling out east like I had been planning for months, no, years. My compartment had three forward facing seats, a little table in the corner, a fold down seat, a cupboard with what looked like a whiskey decanter set inside, and a luggage rack. The carriage attendant shortly came along and dropped down one of the bunk-beds hidden in the wall above the row of seats and said something to me in Russian, at which I nodded but did not understand. The train seemed empty, I only saw a couple of people boarding when I did, and they were much further along the platform. I wasn't aware of anyone else in my carriage, apart from the attendant, and thought it unviable for a train to run across Europe with only a handful of passengers on board.

My compartment on the Paris - Moscow
sleeper train.

We hadn't got far when a shadow filled my door, and a mountain of a man grinned down at me, before settling himself on the seat next to me and introduced himself as Igor Voronov. He spoke almost no English, (but much more than I could Russian) but we communicated through a spattering of English mixed with German, but he mostly spoke Russian and nodded with an expectant smile that I would understand what he said. I gathered that he was a mechanic on the trains, and spent his life traveling across Europe on the railways, as he listed cities spanning the whole of the continent. I showed him the few photos I had on my laptop, some of my family taken in Peterborough before I left, and some of my work as I had my website files on my desktop. He showed me pictures of his family in Moscow, and played me a video of his disabled son being given a massage on a bed, which I found slightly unusual viewing at 8am with a stranger. I explained to him about my trip, and I think he understood the majority of it, and then he left as abruptly as he arrived. I settled down on my bunk and dozed off to the tapping and rattling of the fixtures and fittings, as the train gently rocked and rolled its way across France.

I'd started reading a book on the Eurostar that my dad had given me before I left, Don McCullin's autobiography, 'Unreasonable Behaviour', about his life and experiences as a war photographer. I'd finished the book by the time I was halfway across Germany; not because I had nothing else on the train to do, but because I couldn't put it down. I'd recommend it to almost anyone, as it's a really snappy and adrenaline filled read, and I plan to read it on my next journey, before perhaps trading it with someone for something new. 

A few more people boarded the train in Mannheim and Frankfurt, nearly all men, but still the carriage was very quiet. There were a few Deutsche Bahn staff aboard the train, and I made enough acquaintances with them for them to invite to invite me along for a cigarette in between the carriages, despite all the no smoking signs. I then sat alone in the restaurant car, and was served a spaghetti carbonara and a beer by a camp Russian waiter with a shy smile. In Hanover I got off the train for a few minutes, and the station was throbbing with expectantly jubilant German football fans, who would later that evening lose 2-0 to Italy in the Euro 2012 semi final. In Berlin the train really filled up, and an old Russian owl-woman scowled her way into my compartment, along with several large cases of luggage. There were many people from Belarus and Russia now aboard, and their unfamiliar language filled the air. Somewhere in Poland it became bed time, and a polite Belarusian lady climbed in the bunk above me, and the miserable old owl-woman snored and farted below me. 

I woke up just before entering Belarus, as shortly after the Polish passport control guards came along inspecting passports, and not long after the Belarusian guards collected mine for inspection and stamping. There wasn't much to see out of the window, the little civilisation I did see looked rickety and crumbly. Small 19th century looking cottages perforated the landscape, with old women in headscarves hunched over vegetable plots. Most of the way it was forested, lots of birch and pine flashing by the window with the odd meadow in a clearing. We stopped at one station, and I got out for a brief explore with Igor from the day before, but then dozed and listened to music the remainder of the way to Moscow.

A station in Belarus. I have no idea where it was, if you can read cyrillic you will know.

Inside the station in Belarus, with what I think was a painting of Lenin giving a speech hanging in the main foyer.

I couldn't pronounce this. 

One night in Paris

I left London with more lethargy than excitement. I was quite hungover having rolled in at dawn, after leaving drinks with my friends in Hackney turned into more serious boozing in a bar on Mare Street, before three of us ended up in a taxi heading to a flat in Islington with three women in their 30s whom we had only just met around the pool table. Waking up back at my friend's flat, all I wanted to do was sit around all day eating take away and watching shit television, but I had a Eurostar to Paris to catch.

I arrived at Gare du Nord at around 7pm, and directly outside a French film company were set up to shoot a scene which provided some mild interest whilst I gathered my bearings. I walked for 10 minutes to Gare de l'Est, where my train to Moscow would be departing from 12 hours later, so I wouldn't have to find it for the first time in the bleary eyed dawn. I then took the Metro a few stops and walked to my hostel to check in. I made some small talk with some Australian girls in my room, before heading out on foot to find some recognisable tourist landmark. I made it up to Montmartre, and the steps up to the top of the hill stank as it was more of a memorial fountain to public pissing than the staircase to a basilica. Still, the atmosphere at the top was really chilled, with street music and immigrants selling beers it was nice to sit and enjoy the scene, and I waited for the sun to set to take some photos as the hill gave a great panorama of Paris. 

The view from Montmartre, looking south across Paris.

I walked back east across Paris to my hostel, getting in around midnight, before settling down in my dorm I shared with Australians and New Zealanders, all traveling around Europe for the summer on some bus tour. I woke up at 6am, quietly slipped out of my room, checked out and hopped on the Metro to my station. I could've had another half an hour in bed, but I had about 38 hours on the train so figured catching up on sleep would not be a problem. I bought some breakfast in Gare de l'Est, and was grunted at by a fierce looking Russian guard as he took my ticket and escorted me to my cabin on the train.

Early morning commuters in Gare de l'Est, Paris.

Visas and sofas.

One week from today I'll be on the train from Paris direct to Moscow, but currently I am surrounded by stacks of boxes as I pack everything up in my flat to move out. My passport has been returned to me today, with the Belarus, Russia and Mongolia visas completed, but I was unable to obtain a Chinese visa. At first I applied for a double entry visa, but this was reduced to a single entry visa on account of me foolishly putting my former employers details correctly on there; they really don't like journalists. I then received a second phone call saying the embassy would not process my visa, as I would not be entering China in the next 30 days, and to reapply closer to the time. I wish to enter China within the next 45 days give-or-take, and the information on their website stated you should apply within 3 months of arrival in China. I thought there might be a bump in the road somewhere along the line. Now all I can do is apply for the visa in Ulaanbaatar, which I've read is riddled with difficulties, but I've learnt some lessons from this first experience. For one I won't reference anything to do with my occupation or former employer, but instead tick unemployed, which will be true, and hopefully not considered too much of a threat to the Chinese authorities. I've also retained some false travel bookings, returned with my passport by the Real Russia travel agency who I was using. These will be very useful for the Chinese application, showing entry and exit ticket bookings, which don't actually exist, but are necessary to obtain the visa.

My train tickets, visas and other documents. I hope I don't forget anything. 

I'm also intending to couch surf whilst in Moscow, through the couchsurfing.org website. This will be a bit more of an adventure than staying in a hostel, I'll get insider local knowledge from a host who is happy to show me their city and hopefully a different perspective on the Russian capital, rather than through purely my tourist eyes. I sent a message out on the site the other day, and have had about 5 responses from different people offering me a place to stay or to show me around. I'll give it another day or two, to see if I receive any other invites, and then choose the most interesting one.

Planning Part 2

Two weeks from today, I depart on the Eurostar from London St Pancras to Paris Gare du Nord, the first of the three trains, which will take me from the UK, across eastern Europe and Russian Siberia to Mongolia, before continuing to Beijing, China. I'm only spending one brief night in Paris, for which I need to book a hostel, before taking the train from Gare de l'Est in Paris direct to Moscow, taking about 35 hours or so. This will be a warm up for the 5 day train journey from Moscow to Mongolia, I will be taking 3 days later. The Eurostar ticket was £56, the Paris to Moscow ticket was just over £300 and Moscow to Mongolia cost £280, and they have all been delivered so the only thing I am really waiting for now are my visas.

Typically, I left my visas until almost the last minute, and initially applied for Belarus transit visa (£77), a Russian two week tourist visa (£138) and a 30 day Mongolian visa (£94), through the visa services of RealRussia.co.uk. I chose to use a visa service as supporting documents were required for my Russian visa, which I did not have and they would be able to provide for me. Currently I am awaiting the Belarus visa, having had the Russian and Mongolian visas already processed. Since initially applying for the visas, I read that obtaining a Chinese visa from the embassy in Mongolia would not be as easy as I had first heard, and so have decided to quickly apply for my Chinese visa here in London, before I go. If all goes to plan, my passport should be ready a few days before I leave, so fingers crossed there's no fuck ups.

I still need to move all of my stuff out of my flat, cancel my standing orders, redirect my post, get a few things I need for the trip and stock up on medicines, which I imagine will be done next week, as this week I am busy from photographing weddings, with one more this coming Saturday.