Trans Siberian Part 8 - Zabaykalsk

Zabaykalsk station

A Real Russian Welcome

Dawn on a Monday, the 10th of December. The tiny ramshackle border town of Zabaykalsk.  Down at the station, heavy with snow, the trans Siberian has just chugged in.  Tired passengers slowly drift down from the cooling train.  For the next six hours the train will be shunted back and forth between the platform and a long warehouse sitting between the station and the Chinese border,  here the carriages will be lifted up by yellow machines, shaped like inverted 'n's.  The wheels will be rolled out, and new wheels will be rolled in, upon which the carriages will then be lowered.  This is necessary as the rail gauge in Russia is narrower then that in China, and indeed to that of the rest of Europe.  This proved of use to the USSR during the Hitlers failed invasion during second world war.  A strategic accident however, American contractors constructing what was the most ambitious railway project of all time back in the early 1900s, had, in a very American way, built Russian rails to an American standard.  In other words, too wide.

Andrei and Alexi

So, thanks to some Americans, long dead, I got to see quite a bit of Zabaykalsk.

It was luck really.

Then there was Andrei and Alexi.  This was also luck.

I can't entirely recall exactly how we met these two.  Alexi was in the Chinese dining car the night before, during our Chinese chess / cheap booze party.  Andrei was his partner.  Both were musicians on their way back from Beijing for something like the 3rd time this year, they specialised in live music mixing, or something, and so had a carriage load of musical tech, thus it was easier to travel with it via train.  The other 2(?) members of their band had flown, they would meet them in Novosibirsk, a few days hence.

It was Alexi I had followed to the shop the night before, now, a few sleepless hours later, as we pulled into Russia they invited us to a celebratory dinner.  This was a tradition of theirs, with which they mark every return to the homeland.

First however we had to pass through the Russian border.  Andrei and Alexi had warned us about these guys, real dickheads they said, always made you empty your bags, made a real fuss of everything.  There was brief worry about whether or not Wolf's vitamin pills would pass muster.

I was writing in my journal when they came aboard.

"3 of them, 2 women and a man hovering over them to the left with what I think was a small digital camera with its bright light in my face.  The two women, one older, holding the passport, got me to stand, glancing down and up, down and up,  the younger girl, peering in over the older woman's shoulder - for literally 2 minutes at least, eyes down, up, down, up, straight into mine.  I almost giggled and I swear to God the younger girl almost did too - then she snapped at me to straighten up."

Then it was off to get a very early dinner.

I lingered a bit on the platform, looked back along the train.  But there was no sign of Petra.  So it was over the footbridge with Wolf, Alexi and Andrei.

Looking back at the train, note the dual gauge rails

Wolf is unimpressed

 Upon reaching the other side of the footbridge I found Andrei had already hailed us a cab, well a car anyway, in to the old jalopy we hopped, and off we went.  Not far though.

It wasn't a very big town.  We turned a corner, and out hopped Andrei, into a little door. Two minutes later, there he was again, with a bottle of Vodka.  Necessary apparently.

I was giggling to myself with the randomness of it all.  Wolf greeted it in his usual way: a tired sigh and a slightly put upon look.

However he did have valid concerns.  He was a vegan.  Something quite difficult to explain in most countries without inadvertently causing offense.  In fact he ended up having to eat egg as our Russian hosts mistook his dietary explanations for ingratitude.

It was again a short drive to Zabaykalsk's top restaurant.  I'm still not entirely sure it was a restaurant.  It was a little way towards China.  It had no signs of any kind.   It sat in a large squalid enclosure, a terrified dog pranced alternatively towards and away from us.

The restaurant.  That large thing in the distance is the Chinese border

"In we went - the men heading into the kitchen to talk to the women who ran the place about our meals.  Then we sat.

We were the only people there.  But it didn't matter, this was tradition.  Particularly for Andrei.

He is the older of the two, heavier with grey shaggy hair, however he has a good air about him, a friendly bear hug sort of man.

Alex is younger, blondish brown hair, rather craggy face, sort of the face of a pugilist, but he is a very considerate man with a fairly dirty sense of humour - he is the 'green man' I mentioned earlier."

The 'restaurant'

 "Both spoke English, Alex far more proficiently then Andrei - of the two, only Andrei drank vodka.  And so did Wolf and I, though one feels Wolf's heart rend at the indignity.

before each considerable shot Andrei would toast and we would down the shot in one, chasing it with half a glass of multi fruit juice.  

Dinner/breakfast/lunch began with a sort of egg salad thing, then a soup in a fairly huge bowl with strips of meat in.  Finally sort of meat parcels with what seemed to be tartar sauce.  All fairly nice.  Well, it was a but weird but..

Andrei insisted on paying for it all. It was very Russian way to start the day and, oddly, despite being quite tired, I don't feel at all worse for wear, despite having about 5 shots - one had been replaced with water by Alex and the ensuing surprise from this practical joke, had Andrei laughing for a good half an hour."

Despite what I wrote here, I was slightly merry, Andrei pointed out the wonders of having a Russian wife and off we went in the same old taxi.  We stopped off again at that little shop, and here the taxi left us.  Inside it was pretty tiny but did boast a heckuva varied alcohol selection, some of the concoctions appeared to be stored in clay pots.

Russian grocery shopping

Alcohol

 On the way back to the station we popped into a clothes shop while Andrei headed to an Apothecary.  This clothes shop, like the restaurant and grocery store before it, also lacked signage of any kind.  It was located in what looked like the ground floor of some sort of apartment complex built out of cinder blocks.

Inside, various lumps of random folded clothing were displayed on chairs and somewhat crude tables. It was a single room, looked like a large boiler room, yet there were maybe 4 women in there, all servers.  Wolf bought a faux leather wallet with 'DR WOLF' written on it.

Back at the station there was a lot more waiting to do.  There was Petra, glad to see us, we took a walk down the rails to see the wheel changing operation.

Off we went, down to what looked like a small bonfire in the snow with rail workers surrounding it.  Took some photos by our train, then down the side of the large wheel changing warehouse where we peered in to see those train lifting machines I mentioned earlier.

The train backing into the wheel changing warehouse

That yellow thing is the train lifting thingamee

Me and the train, little bonfire in the back

So we walked back to the station where Wolf was fast asleep.  And did some more waiting.

Wolf snoozes

Me and the lads

Getting back on the train felt something like a little bit like coming home, so cosy and secure it was.  Andrei appeared with more Vodka to toast our friendships.  This time with a Mandarin as a chaser.

A great day really.  Well morning.  Everything I hoped the holiday would be.

I was going to write until Andrei and Alexis got off the train, but I guess I've written enough today.