Trans-Mongolian Train

A station shop, full of usefull things...
see all photos »

I was weird how easily we slipped into the strange otherworldly existence that we entered for the six days we were on the train.

The long slow periods where we sat, read, eat, slept of just stared out of the window as the landscape very slowly changed we punctuated with frenetic activity the two or three times a day we pulled into a station.

All of us in our carriage would suddenly raise ourselves from our stupors and rush to the door.  There'd be us, the cool retired Swedish couple, The Germans with their one year old son, the gay Belgium couple and the English woman who lived in Denmark, waiting anxiously for the guard to let us off for our 10 minutes of exercise.  We'd rush up and down the platform trying to suss out what was available and what were the best things to buy.  Which stall had cold beer?  Was there any fresh fruit? Were those strange dumpling things the old lady was selling going to be nice? Was smoked fish going to be a good idea?

Leaving Moscow
see all photos »

We'd jump back on board, compare purchases, discuss yet again what time we thought it might be (even though we crossed 5 time zones all of the station clocks showed Moscow time, which made the sensation of timelessness even more intense).  And then we'd slip back into our stupors, sitting, reading, eating, sleeping or just staring out of the window as the landscape very slowly changed.