Start of the Trans-Siberian Railway: Kazan, Ekaterinburg

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After experiencing Russia's capital I begun my direct route to Asia via the longest and possibly the most famous train line in the world, the Trans-Siberian. It's exact length is hard to define, as there are several different routes. The best known of these is from Moscow to Vladivostok, (the far east of Siberia, near North and South Korea and Japan), which is 9259 kilometers long and takes the train 8 days to complete. There are several branch routes on it, such as the trans-Mongolian and trans-Manchurian, so it's possible to take a direct train from Moscow to Beijing, to Ulaanbaatar (capital of Mongolia) or even Pyongyang in North Korea. It was built between 1891 and 1916 to link European Russia with the Siberian Wild East, and to encourage immigration and economic development of Siberia. It crosses incredibly difficult terrain, subject to extreme weather conditions, and to this day it remains an engineering marvel. It became strategically important in the Russian-Japanese war of 1904-1905 and in the civil war following the 1917 Revolution.

My first stop after and overnight train journey from Moscow was Kazan, capital of the autonomous republic of Tatarstan. Russia has a diverse demographic of different ethnic groups, and has several different semi-autonomous federal states like Tatarstan. The Tatars are an Turkic Islamic group who were incorporated into Russian in the 16th Century. Kazan was a large and not particularly distinctive city and I didn't feel the need to linger there. However it has a fantastic Kremlin. Kremlin is the old Russian word for 'fortress' and refers to the fortified buildings at the heart of large historic Russian cities from which they were governed. The Kazan Kremlin is built on a hill and affords great views of the surrounding area. It's huge, with sweeping ramparts and numerous old buildings. At it's heart is a magnificent Mosque straight out of Arabian Nights; although the Kremlin and walls are open to the public, sadly the Mosque wasn't, but it's stunning enough from the outside. The Kremlin is definitely the best thing to see in Kazan, and is justifiably a UNESCO world heritage site.

On my way back to my hostel I stopped off at a tiny museum called 'Museum of Socialist Life.' It felt like more of a collector's hobby room than a museum, full of treasure and tat memorabilia from the Soviet era. It had children's stories, ration-books, propaganda posters, musical instruments and just about everything else cramming its limited wall-space, and had obviously been lovingly collected. In total contrast to every other museum I went to in Russia, it was free, friendly and you were allowed to pick up and examine the exhibits! It really was a window into Soviet era Russia, and was a wonderful place to spend an hour in.

After spending one night in Kazan I hopped on the night train to Ekaterinburg, another major city. It's situated in the Ural Mountains (you wouldn't guess it, as the Urals are just foothills here) and is the last major city before the start of Siberia. Like Kazan I mainly found it to be a dull modern city and wasn't inspired to stay. I decided to put my gear in left luggage and head on that very evening, giving myself the day to explore. I went on an unsuccessful mission to buy mosquito repellent (which I'd lost in Finland) and then went for a run around park in the center of the city. Apparently the Ural areas around Ekaterinburg are very attractive, but I decided to press on to Krasnoyarsk.

This is a 40 hour train journey onwards, and I treated myself to a second-class cabin which I shared with a young Russian guy travelling home, plus a couple of others who stayed for various stretches. The Trans-Siberian is definitely not an express train; in it's 8 day journey to Vladivostok it averages 48 kilometres per hour, a speed I can cycle at! However it's interesting to see all the smaller Siberian towns it stops at rather than just flashing by them. It also stops at large towns and cities for 30 minutes or more, allowing me to get off for some much needed fresh-air and purchase of supplies. I didn't stray too far though, as the engine was still running.

Krasnoyarsk was a city I was looking forward to, and it exceeded my expectations. However my first afternoon there was an exasperating wild-goose chase. I arrived at 11 in the morning by my time, but 3 in the afternoon local time as I'd crossed a few time zones. I'd booked myself into a Hostel with the unbeatable name of 'Tit Mouse House' (no chance of me forgetting that!) and I'd written down the address and I had a map in my guidebook, so I was confident I'd find it without a hitch. I walked to the correct address within 15 minutes but there was no sign of a hostel or the street number I was looking for. After much searching around and backtracking I found an alley which lead behind the street to a residential block, where I found the entrance to a block of flats which was at the right number and has a tiny label reading 'Tit Mouse House'. There was no buzzer, but eventually I was able to dart in behind a resident and make my way to the fourth floor where the hostel claimed to be. There was no answer at the door, although I knocked and shouted many times. Eventually I staggered off to the address to a hotel in my guidebook which turned out to no longer exist.

A trip to a net cafe yielded the address of a more recent hostel, part of a local guide agency by the name of 'Sib Tour Guide.' I traipsed to address given but there was no sign of the hostel; however I was wiser now, and tried the alley round the back. There was no sign indicating a hostel and when I pressed the buzzer of flat number given all I got was puzzled Russian voice. A trip back to the net cafe told me I'd written the address down wrong. I tried the correct buzzer and finally got through to someone who confirmed this was the right place. The place wasn't really a hostel, it was a two-bedroomed flat which the Sib Tour Guide team seem to sub-let out to travelers (maybe that's why it's not advertised?). Anatoliy who runs it was very helpful and spoke excellent English, but seemed surprised that I'd had trouble finding the place. I checked my emails and discovered that a lady from Tit Mouse House had emailed me asking for a time of arrival so they could make sure they were in as they had business to do that day. If I'd been able to check my emails during my 40 hour train journey all of this could have been avoided. Le Sigh.

Krasnoyarsk I found to be a highly agreeable city. It has an excellent regional museum, which features artifacts from across the region's history. There were stone age artifacts, knives and shaman's tools belong to Samoyed nomads, a life size replica of a ship that the ancient Cossacks sailed up the Yenisei to explore the interior of Siberia, plus numerous pieces related to the building of the Trans-Siberian railway and the great changes in 20th century Russia. After the Museum I crossed over a bridge to a large forested island in the river Yenisei which divides central Krasnoyarsk from the suburbs. The Island serves as the city's main park and was a very pleasant place to walk around.

The next day I got stuck into what I'd really come to Krasnoyarsk for: the Stolby Park. This is a UNESCO listed national park just 19 kilometers from the city center, situated in the forested mountains to the south of the Yenesei. It's main attraction are the 'Stolbies' capping the mountains; they are strangely beautiful rock pillar formations, apparently volcanic in origin, which look more like flowing water than rock. There are dozens of them and some of the tallest of them are over 100 meters high. There is a tiny ski resort in the mountains (large hills really) just before the Stolby Park. There was still snow left even in April, so I had an enjoyable little ski before I headed to the park.

Although the bus stops just outside the entrance to the park, it's still a long (6 kilometer as I recall) walk uphill into mountains and the park proper. Exhausting but very scenic, and there was a friendly cafe at the top for much needed-refreshments. The forest in between the Stolbies is classic Siberian Taiga, full of majestic pines and thick snow-banks. There are many paths through them, but the main attraction are the Stolbies themselves. I'm not sure how they formed, but they are beautiful, great grey peaks and domes reaching to sky. The bigger ones afford terrific views over the rest of the park and Siberian plain beyond.

I bumped into a Russian local while picnicking on one of the Stolbies, who spoke good English. He was a great fan of British comedy and said he taught himself English so he could watch Jimmy Carr without subtitles! He first warned me that the bears come out of hibernation in April and are very hungry (I'd been wandering around dreamily by myself, occasionally stopping to eat snacks!) and then agreed to take me on a tour. I enjoyed the company and it's always better to see the sights with a local who knows them. After a little walking he suggested we climb 'Grandmother,' the second highest Stolby. This looked like an intimidating prospect, and I definitely wouldn't have taken it on by myself but I'm glad I did it. The Stolbies look practically designed for bouldering and climbing, and it was great fun to scramble our our way to the top. Slightly hair-raising, as the climb was steep in places and many of the best hand-holds were crevices which still had snow and ice in them. There were a couple of nerve-wracking points traversing over sheer cliffs, where falling was not something you wanted happen. The view and elated sense of achievement at the top made it all worth it. We made a pleasant walk downhill to the main road and caught the last back to Krasnoyarsk. I bade farewell to my guide (whose name I immediately forgot to my shame) and grabbed some food before catching the night-train Irkutsk.

Next up, lake Baikal and rabid dogs!

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