I had stocked up on supplies earlier in the day at my local Sokolniki supermarket, and now had an extra three bags to carry containing assorted noodles, biscuits, and porridge, not to mention a stash of reasonable quality European wine. Such was the scale of my luggage that the lady guarding the “special needs” seating area inside the station took pity on me and let me me park myself somewhere easy. The other people here are all families, the old and the infirm. So much for my adventurer credibility!

As I arrived on Platform 1 I was greeted by that very distinctive smell of lots of coal being burned to heat up the carriage samovars. An industrial smell, necessary as the carriages have no connection yet to the electricity from a powered locomotive.

Train No 020 was a middle-aged but very well presented set of Russian carriages (NB if you are reading this and have also seen the photographs on the excellent Seat 61 website, these are not the carriages used on this service any more, look instead at those on the 001/002 train).

I said goodbye to Rita, my ever so kind “helper” and immediately went for a quick walk up front. I was a bit confused what was going on for a moment as the train started to move off without me (don’t panic!) but it was actually just a shunter positioning the carriages on the platform before the main locomotive arrived and was attached for the night’s journey ahead.

I was in for a few surprises onboard. The biggest of these were Sergei and Rimma, the carriage provodnitsas (I think that’s the feminine version of the word). Sergei was a well presented man in his 30’s wearing a carefully pressed RZD uniform and fashionable business type glasses. I was pretty surprised when he came to see me to collect my ticket and spoke to me in near perfect English. This has never happened to me on a Russian train before. Deeply impressive. Rima, his co-worker, is so different from the provodnitsas on my last train – she is a blonde lady in her late 30’s who is perpetually happy, and enjoys her work. She only speaks Russian, but is an expert in sign langauage.

Just when I could not have imagined anything could be better, a lady from the restaurant carriage popped her head into my compartment introduced herself and a basket of goodies on permanent offer. She was also happy to go and find me an icy Baltika No 7. When she returned I noticed she had hidden my beer under her menu, and it reminded me that I think technically you are not allowed alcohol outside the restaurant carriage on a Russian train, but I think this is very flexible if you behave.

Looking round my compartment, it is the modern RZD type, similar to that of the train to Vladivostok (002). Not quite as good though, in that there is no power supply inside the cabin, but my trusty Power Gorilla should mean this is no big deal. There is a TV and keycard locking system, but but for some reason they do not work. But most importantly to me, there is a locked window, and it takes me 30 seconds to open it up using my special key, and I am rewarded with a blast of fresh wintery air. I can’t work out the system, but seemingly randomly, some carriages have occasional windows with skylights that open up, mixed with others that have totally sealed windows. Once again I have struck lucky.

Sleep didn’t come easily to me on my first night, but after we left Vladmir at 02.52 I turned in and got some reasonable rest. I find the good thing about a train journey of this length is that a shorter night’s sleep and a short afternoon nap can be quite restorative. I dont know why this is, maybe just the decadence of knowing that you can sleep when you want to and set your own agenda each day – or even operate your very time zone. No one is going to tell you that you are late for breakfast, or tell you when to go to bed!

My first point of business in the evening was food. Having been caught out by the PKP fast diet plan on the Warsaw express, I wasn’t going to be “at home” to Mr & Mrs Cock Up again. I queued up at the information counter in Warsaw Centralina station to get some guarantees on the catering arrangements ahead. When it was my turn it became quickly clear that no English was spoken, so I tried again at the Inter City office where there was by now a massive queue. The person I spoke to could not tell me what I needed to know so a supervisor was called, then his supervisor, and before long the whole office seemed to be working on my single question – does the D10 train to Moscow have a restaurant carriage? I felt a lot of eyes staring at me behind my back – people who probably needed tickets quickly to get somewhere important, but it was too late to run now. Finally, the top person (who looked horrified that I had even asked such a question) said there was no onboard catering. With this in mind I hit the supermarket to get rations for the next 24 hours.

The D10SZ is in its first week of daily service. It is a brand new Russian train that has replaced the D10, which could be either a random set of Polish or Russian carriages. The only down side of the new arrangement was that it was to leave at around 7pm, meaning a long night on the border and a later arrival into Moscow that I would have preferred.

If you have never been to Warsaw Centralina, its basically a big brutal style 1980’s station that operates mainly underground. The caverns and passageways that connect the station to the subterranian entrances are filled with shops, kiosks, travellers and tramps going about their business.

Rule number two in my long distance rail code is to never be late for a night train, so I arrived with more than half an hour to spare. The train cruised in right on time, and my carriage (344) was one of the brand new Austrain built ones. Deeply impressive. It even smelt new, like that new car kind of smell. I unpacked my bag and settled in, changing the berth configuration so I had both a seat and a bed – there were actially four beds as this train now operates as one class, you just decide if you want to share it or not and buy a ticket accordingly.

I have some big news to convey to you. There is a shower at the end of my carriage. Yes a real shower, with all mod cons. This is a Russian Railway first for me, and I’m looking forward to trying it out. To find it you just walk into one of the two toilets and turn left – it is inside the toilet next to the outer wall of the carriage. There is nothing to advertise its presence, so you just need to find the right WC.

After a couple of hours we reach Terespol, and I have no troubles from the Polish security team seeing off the train over the River Bug to the Belarus side. It’s a super Cold War bridge type border! This is where my Belarus transit visa kicks in (valid for 48 hours) and ties up with my Russian visa entry dates. There can be no flexibility with this, so a precision plan is required.

I made a few schoolboy errors on my Belarus entry paperwork, so a slightly excitable officer marched back and forth with my form asking for more information a couple of times. His boss seemed more relaxed and stamped my visa and wished me well. Customs were pretty thorough and took an interest in all my belongings, especially my medical kit and a Christmas “Red Cross” parcel from the Edinburgh Explorer’s Club that I have no idea of the contents of. Amazingly they accepted this and it remains unopened in my bag ready to go under the Christmas tree on my next train.

On arrival in Brest (the Belarus frontier station) I counted nine officials getting off my carriage before we reversed back out the station and into the shed for a couple of hours of work swapping the bogies of each carriage.

I’m not getting on very well with one of the two providnitsas in my carriage. Her name is Lira, and she has tried to stop me taking photographs in the shed. Does she think that the Russian railway gauge is still a state secret? I cant work it out, but she even pushes me away from the window at one point. I don’t react and just let her get bored waiting for me to take another picture. I would really like to get a smile out of her before the train reaches Moscow, but I might have my work cut out. The border guards are more friendly than she is.

Local time has moved on a couple of hours (to Moscow time) so its not until about 03.30 that we are underway again. There is no point trying to get to sleep before then as the rough shunting of each carriage results in quite a few bangs and sudden impacts. I sleep fitfully but quite well and don’t get up  until10.30 the next morning.

Throughout the night I have been hearing a switch being pushed and a loud beeping noise before it is switched off again. I think this has something to do with the lack of power in my compartment this morning. Thankfully I have my trusty Power Gorilla with me, and can keep all my devices charged up with no difficilty. That gadget has paid for itself many times over in my travels now.
Against PKP wisdom, there is actually now a restaurant carriage, which was attached at the border last night. It’s located right next door to 344 – so an easy walk. It’s a step back to the cold war, and inside the fuggy atmosphere of the creaky carriage I’m greeted by a friendly old chef.

The next few moments are comedy gold, as we don’t have a word in common and I have misplaced my vital “point it” book that I use to speak with pictures. I reach for a Russian translator app on my phone but it is totally useless for ordering breakfast. Chef does a better impression of a chicken than I do of chicken eggs, but thankfully before I chance a breakfast of centrally planned Soviet design, he finds a menu with some English. I need to redouble my efforts and give myself a talking too – my “point it” book should be with me at all times.

I hoped off for a few minutes at lunchtime to get some fresh air. The train is actually quite short now, maybe four sleeper carriages and a restaurant car. All the standard seated carraiages must have been taken away at the border last night. So the day is spent chugging through the Russian countryside before arriving into Moscow Belorusskaja at 16.20, a journey of about 22 hours. The time actually flies by. I find longer day train journeys much more tedious than this long but more comfortable experience.

As we cover the last few miles towards Moscow, Lira appears and returns my ticket with a curt nod and a frown. I notice her eyeing up my Power Gorilla recharging my camera, and wonder if this has any connection to the power being switched off in my compartment last night…

I would really recommend this train, but be prepared for a late night followed by a lazy day on board catching up on missed sleep. The first 12 hours are self catering, so pack accordingly.

I met up with Alexey (my resident interpretor, guide and fixer in Moscow) in the afternoon and we did some cosmonaut stuff. He reminds me that a couple of years ago we went out to a nearby airforce base in December when the day time temperature was well below -20 C. Of course that’s nothing in Siberia, but it was cold for Moscow in December..

I have spent a bit of time trying to get a better picture of the life and work of Sergie Korolev today. I have been doing some reading recently on the sometimes hidden achievements – and disasters – of the Soviet space programme in the 1950s and 60’s. I’m not going to do the history bit here, but it’s pretty fascinating to get under the skin of. I found a picture of him today taken when he was in the Red Army at Peenemude in 1944 – he had access to V2 rockets but yet still went off in a different design direction altogether from Wernher Von Braun, despite seeing the German missiles close up. I need to reread the bit about his choice of propellant, as my prior recollection was that everyone had left the hydrogen peroxide fuel technology for the British to take away from the German scientist’s work.

My find of the day was the “Buran” shuttle. It’s a stunning design idea. I wonder where they got inspiration for that from?! One of only two made, it’s now recently abandoned in a park behind the museum at VNDK. One Buran made a single unmanned orbital space flight in 1988 and then managed to land itself. The programme was then scrapped as the money ran out. It doesn’t feel to me to be in the great traditions of Korolev, but I might be missing the point.

There is of course a lot of political and economical baggage in our minds when thinking about Russia at the moment. In my micro world, staying in suburban Sokolniki, people don’t seem to be suffering too much with the burden of inflation yet and everything is much as I remember it. However, I do understand that non interest paying US Dollar bank accounts in Russia are now very popular.

My dinner tonight is Uzbek at a place near my hotel called “Tanyah”. A place where you can eat stunning Central Asian food, drink cold beer, smoke a hooker, and relax to tasteful music in a really nice environment. The food is amazing… and now as cheap as gherkins. The only significant downside is that there is no red wine, just a choice of Argentinian or Turkish white wine (yikes!)..

Warsaw Centralna smelt rather of tramps and stale urine this afternoon, which is a shame as its otherwise okay. Not a contender for the “greatest train station of the world” award, but a warm and dry underground labyrinth of shops, platforms and people. The train also has a very distinct odour – of coal and stale urine. It’s not ideal and I have sprinkled some tea tree oil around the compartment. The train itself is comprised of Russian carriages one day and Polish the next, so it is 50-50 which you are going to get. In my experience the Polish ones offer better climate control (you can open the window) but smell a bit worse. I have a suspicion that this is because some passengers urinate in the sink in each compartment. Perversely the toilet does not smell at all.

I’m quite excited about the border tonight. I have been across it before, but tonight I’m going to leave out my new espresso machine in its vagely military looking case to see if it gets marked out for a special search by the KGB or the Army. I hope this isn’t a foolhardy idea as the Russian military are not well known for their humour, but it’s a story I might be able to tell my grandchildren about once I get released from the gulag.

My carriage (21) needs some maintenance. The heating is actually jammed in the “on” position and the power socket has no live feed. I don’t have a roll of foil with me (to make a heat shield) but I do have an emergency power source in my Power Gorilla – It can charge up an iPad several times. I’m going to make the most of the opening window – it will be my last one of this trip. I’m reminded by this leg that I need to acquire a roll of gaffer tape in Moscow – there are always things that clater with the movement of the train and sticking them down makes for a more peaceful environment.

This is the last carriage of the train, which comprises of four day type carriages going to Terespol (the border with Belarus), and four sleepers making the crossing bound for Minsk and Moscow. My carriage is the last one and I’m at the end of it looking backwards from my berth so it feels like I’m being pulled unwillingly along by the rest of the train. There is an important safety tip here when visiting the bathroom – the doors behind it open onto the nothingness behind the train.

This may all change at Brest, where we will perform the ritual of splitting off each carriage, shunting it into the sheds and changing wheels. My main objective whilst this is all going on is to bag some homemade food from one of the babushkas (who materialise out of nowhere) right amidst the fairly violent and industrial process of knocking the bogies off our carriage and lifting it up a few feet to fit wider ones. I shall update as the evening progresses.

19.20
Now at a deserted Terespol, the Polish side of the border with Belarus. I have just had the first visit to my compartment from a very nice young lady sergeant, but I’m not sure which country or army she represents. I have not been asked to complete any paperwork yet and I wonder if this is possibly a new system. The sergeant was armed with a big portable scanner – and a light automatic pistol. My passport itself is biometric, I’m not sure it worked as she took it away to show a colleague. Last week Russia imposed a new system that means you now need to provide your fingerprints at the embassy to get a visa in the first place. As I got my visa issued before the new rule, I’m entering on one of the last ever non biometric visas.

I’m actually on a transit visa to Belarus tonight, which works for 48 hours from activation at the border. To get such a visa you first need to have a Russian visa – they often end up as a double page in your passport to keep things easy to find. Once you get into Belarus there are no further checks going into Russia, as this is the “hard” border and the crossing between Belarus and Russia is more like crossing between England and Scotland.

Second visit – Polish police (I think) the lady just wanted to check I had a passport. It’s nice having all these people come to visit you rather than you having to get off and queue up in the traditional sense. I only wish there was time to chat about the weather and the value of the Rouble.

19.43
On the move, four carriages and our locomotive, trundling over the bridge into Belarus. The lights are on inside the train, so it’s hard to spot what’s happening outside. We stop again, seemingly in the middle of nowhere and I can seen men outside looking under the train. Voices outside, so ready for the next team of officials. Definately from Russia or Belarus – you can tell by the language and the enormous size of their peaked caps. An immaculately turned out blonde lady Captain has just checked my papers and left with my passport. Her colleagues point and talk about me, but I don’t know what they say. Could it be about my mil spec Handpresso machine? Might they want to inspect it to see if it’s the latest 5.56mm model? Then what I assume a customs man arrives. He asks if I speak German (which I don’t), but I stand up and look him in the eye, he nods and leaves me alone (did I just perform some sort of Jedi mind trick?).
I can now hear the sound of aluminium ladders banging and power screwdrivers at work – I think they are taking the train apart to check for contraband. That or there are some very keen DIY’ers living next door!

The Captain is back with some immigration paperwork for me to complete. This takes about five minutes as long as you happen to know your passport number and your Belarus visa number by heart, as the passports were taken away a while back. Fortunately I have a photocopy in my “mobile office” bag.

The train engine idles, I assume to keep the power and heating working. There is a dog barking down the end of corridor. It doesn’t sound like a very scary dog, so possibly a passenger’s pet rather than a German Shepherd. How do you take a pet dog for a walk on a train journey lasting this long?

20.18
Captain Blonde returns, I present my homework and when I ask her if it’s okay she nods. I think it’s a B+, if not quite an A-. The train is moving again. My immigration form is stamped and in my passport now. The stamp is in pink ink. What has become of the CCCP? We are now being pushed slowly from behind by a shunter, so I guess this means I’m “in” and it’s engine shed time soon.

My peasant home cooked dinner arrives. I’m pretty pleased that I managed to get the right meal with a bit of international sign language and my iPad jumbo calculator. I went for chicken spatchcock, blinis, pickled gherkin, and boiled potatoes. We did the deal in Zloty. The base price was outrageous, but I held my nerve and I think Alan Sugar would have been pleased with my technique to get a 55 Zloty feast (£10), given it started at over 170 Zloty. I bet that was still way over what the Russians would pay, but I was happy…

21.16
Leaving the shed with a new set of wheels. The carriage is eerily quiet. It’s seemingly getting colder outside. Worryingly both toilets are now non operational. I think the pressure or the electrics in this carriage are kaput.. Edit – in a station with a man under the carriage right now. Maybe he has the unenviable task of fixing our plumbing? A young woman babbles something at me from the platform. She has kind eyes, but I’m no good with begging in my own language, let alone one I don’t understand. For all I know she might just be asking me for the time or the current price of the Rouble..

Time for an evening movie and a glass of reasonable Rioja that I bagged in Warsaw. Note to self – don’t forget about the time change, it’s past midnight Moscow time. Final job for the day – I have cannibalised two sets of bedding to make one decent bed tonight. I’m hoping I might actually get some sleep. Good night.

The health & safety briefing was brilliant – basically don’t press any buttons as they may still be working! Once you have climbed down 18 floors you get into the tunnel that connects the military area of the bunker.

All that you can hear are the underground metro trains in the distant tunnels. There are several metres of iron cladding bolted together with nuclear protected seals between the plates.

I’m not sure how you verify the ID of someone in full NBC gear!

The telephone you hope will never ring..

Like one of those dodgy nightclubs – if you don’t have a weapon when you go in, then they give you one. I rejected an old AK-47 in favour of a lighter AK-74.

Command and control via telephone from the bunker.

The roof of the bunker tube – at 65 metres down its shape and design mean it is fully protected from a direct hit at 500m away on the surface.

Already wondering about which buttons not to press, I was asked to assist in a missile drill. A couple of code verifications, two keys and a button is all that separates you from nuclear Armageddon.. Fortunately this console was disconnected.

Hope you like this Cold War stuff. I’m getting back on the train tomorrow, or to be more precise I’m getting on to THE train tomorrow – the big one – the Trans-Mongolian. I will not be able to post updates until I reach Beijing, so do not worry that I have gone quiet – it is just that I will have no connection from the train. More to follow pre Christmas when I will update with a post on each day of the journey across Siberia and the Gobi desert.

I’m back in the USSR! Its not very cold here for this time of year and this is a problem – there is black ice everywhere – getting off the train with luggage proved pretty tricky.. I almost decided to leave my boots at home in an effort to save space in my bag, but they really are essential here – not just cold protection from the snow but ankle protection from any unlucky falls.

A couple of days here on a specially devised (by me!) Cold War programme. I spent a day at the Central Armed Forces Museum yesterday. Absolutely nothing in English anywhere, so bring a guide if you are coming. I was lucky to have Alexey along as my interpreter again. He understands my love of MiG cockpits and ballistic missile launchers, so we could get straight down to business! Just a few snaps here..

You probably know that the U2 spy plane of Gary Powers was shot down over flying the Soviet Union in 1960 – here are the remains of the plane, and Alexey (looking mildly amused).

One of the windows in the sail of the Kursk (K-141) that sunk in 2000 in the Barents Sea when a torpedo exploded.. all 118 hands lost.

The real story of K-19 – “The Widowmaker” – it must have been a big boat, as the missile it fired is enormous.

This is the “full on” ballistic nuclear missile launcher (like in “Spies Like Us”) – the one I saw in Warsaw was half this size!

If you are ever on the Trans-Siberian and wonder why you can’t get onto the carriage with no windows next to the restaurant car, I think I have found a possible explanation – your train has a special guest on board – an SS24 type ICBM!

Here is a picture of the train about to launch its secret payload. Fortunately now decommissioned though.

Lots of guns in this place – just when you thought that all Kalshnikov’s looked the same!

More tomorrow as I have a rather special private tour planned to a place that was a classified secret until 2004..

The D10 pulled in on time at platform 2 (to be more precise its called a “peron” here, with two “tors” or tracks) and I hiked down to the sleeper carriges at the rear of the train as it pulled in. I think only four carriages go into Belarus, the rest finishing at the border (Terespol) before we go all Cold War.. The timing of the D10 means I get into Moscow Belorusskaja (GMT +4) at about lunchtime tomorrow, so hopefully no hassle checking in to my hotel.

The thing to note about this train (if you are thinking of taking it) is that it is made up of Polish carriages one day and Russian ones the next, and you just don’t know which one you will end up with. Today it is Polish rolling stock and I’m happy about that, as it is a refurbished carriage with a fully functional window, as there is no air conditioning. That’s a game changer for me as Russian carriages are air conditioned and they like the temperature to be set to about 30 degrees on board their trains – far too hot for my liking. I like what they have done here – a decent berth, sink and plenty of storage space. If you are looking for a power socket it’s hidden in the cupboard together with your PKP rations of a complimentary “Scooby Doo” orange juice and a “Prince Polo” wafer biscuit. I have also discovered that unlike a Chinese train you don’t need to be a trained plumber to adjust the central heating either – turning a simple knob covers over the convection holes above the pipe work.

There is a good vibe on the train. The compartment doors are mainly open, the Russian couple next door are playing traditional music, and the Polish stewardess has just boiled the kettle. I have got my trusty Trans-Siberian insulated metal mug out (as the boiling water on some trains melts the plastic ones). I switched today from Moroccan mint to jasmine tea and it’s making feel like I’m much further East than I actually am – although there is at a guess about 10000 km East to go before heading 6000 km South..

Just to keep you on your toes, there are in fact two places called “Minsk” on this train journey. We have just left the Polish one (quite small town with a big supermarket) and don’t arrive at the capital of Belarus until 03.07 tomorrow morning, a time at which I’m planning to be in bed. Looking at my trusty DB Bahn timetable, it looks like the border (and wheel changes) will be between 19.22 and 23.33, but I think one of those times is GMT +1 and the other GMT +3. Anyway there is not a remote chance of sleep till we have had our grilling on the border and got the wheels swapped for the wider Russian tracks – so an evening of visa paperwork, sniffer dogs and much hanging about (literally) in the engine sheds of Brest.

If I’m about I will update later at the crossing.

I had high hopes for this trip, and they were met in every respect – it is a truly amazing place to visit if you have a passing interest in Cold War aviation. If you happen to be a aircraft anorak you would find this place pant wettingly exciting. There are planes here that you cannot see anywhere else in the world, and in fact that were a total secret until the late 1990’s.

I hired a local guide (Natalia) as well as Alexei again (my Moscow guide) as my interpreter – together with the car and the permissions to visit it must have cost me 15000 Roubles (£300), but money very well spent..

Sadly I have too many pictures to post here, but just a few to wet your appetite for now..

I will start with the M-50 strategic missile carrier (Bounder) – perhaps the most amazing and space age of planes I have ever seen…and it’s huge. This is a plane form the late 1950s!

Aircraft 105 was a test bed for high altitude (edge of space) research – I think it’s just incredible.. and it lands on skis!

The TU-144 (Charger or “Concordski”)..

The TU – 22 Bomber (Blinder) – that’s me under the front nose gear for scale!

More helicopters here than I have ever seen before (two fields of them), mainly MIL..

Finally for now, the SU – 27 Interceptor (Flanker)

I spent around three hours here – were it not for the temperature I could happily have spent three days. The staff seemed really pleased to look after me knowing I had come so far, and they even opened up an area that was officially off limits. A very special place to visit.

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You might think from the above that its warmer today, but having spent a couple of hours out, I’m coming round to the view that the temperature is just a number and I can confirm without consulting a thermometer that its nippy enough to freeze solid any exposed bits.

I spent the morning shopping at the Ismailovsky outdoor market, where they seem to sell all the tourist stuff you would ever need at reasonable prices. There is also an area here that sells Soviet militaria – plenty of interesting stuff on sale, but most would lead to your detention if you tried to bring it back into the UK..

Then on to the Cosmanautics Memorial Museum, which is a fascinating place if you are a card carrying space anorak like me.

Too many pictures to post here, but just so you get the idea it’s packed with original space vehicles, mock ups and memorabilia.

The original Sputnik – one of three versions to be found here..

A model of Luna 9, which made a soft landing on the Moon in February 1966. I bet this inspired Gerry Anderson when he wrote “Space 1999”!

A recovered Soyuz capsule from 1989, looking a bit frazzled after re entry.

More rockets and satellites on display than you can shake a stick at.

The controls inside a modern Soyuz capsule. You can compare this with an old Vostok that has a compass and that’s about it.

If you decide to visit Moscow, I hope this might be one for your list of things not to miss. Many of the signs are in Russian only, so if you really want to get under the skin of the Soviet space programme, I would suggest that its best to bring a private guide who can translate.. Its also worth noting that it is closed on Mondays.

On more general trip matters, all is going well. My visa registration hasn’t materialised yet, but its all in hand with the hotel. I gave up on using mad unlicensed taxi cabs today and started using the quite special looking metro. Each journey now costs about 30 Roubles rather than 1000 Roubles, and my life expectancy is much improved. The only snag is reading the stops in the cryptic alphabet, but its not too hard if you stay calm and make the odd guess based on how it is pronounced at each stop. In passing, I’m finding the shop signs here so alien that last night I was looking for a restaurant and ended up in a hair salon!

I think that’s all for now. I might not have time to post again before I board the big train on Tuesday, so I will post updates once I get some wifi, which might be Beijing. The reason being that I’m off to Monino on Tuesday (Air Force base) and I think I’m travelling from there straight to the railway station..

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Distance so far: 3250 km, GMT +4, -17 C, sunny, clear skies.

Morning!

Last night turned out to be quite an interesting one. I’ve just woken up (3 hours earlier than I needed to – note to self – I must learn to change time zones before bed). It’s very cold, which is unusual for a Russian train. It turns out the boiler in this carriage is on the blink, so there is a mechanic here with a hammer and some spanners. I think he’s managed to fix it, but can’t help but imagine the consequences if this happened next week in Siberia. In passing the plumbing isn’t that good either and I have rated the bathroom on this train as a 4/10, so best avoided.

Poland went on and on yesterday afternoon, mainly to a soundtrack provided by Kraftwerk – the obligatory “Trans Europe Express” – with the great line “Europe, endless” – it certainly felt like that.

We reached Terespol at about 17.00 and began the transformation into a Russian outfit. First of all a “goodbye” set of checks from Polish border security. Then a short trundle over the border (a bridge, very Cold War) to Brest. A squad of officials came on the train here and searched it, checked our paperwork and repeated this process carriage by carriage several times. After a while the head immigration officer came back with my passport and his body language made out there might be a problem. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at him and saying “All good?”.. He stared at me, tapped my passport in his hand several times, thought for a moment and then gave it back together with stamped immigration card and transit visa for Belarus. My papers were in order!

(A quick note to anyone considering the Belarus route, as I had a minor panic yesterday and could not work it out at first. Although you have a separate visa for Belarus and Russia, the stamped immigration card given to you as you enter Belarus is good for Russia too – there are no more checks in your passport after Brest, so I shall be handing back my Belarus immigration card on the Chinese border, together with the registration of my Russian visa from my hotel in Moscow.)

Next up was the train. You might have heard that Russia has a wider gauge of track than Western Europe, so somewhat astonishingly, we were shunted into a shed carriage by carriage, lifted, and had the wheels changed.

The shed was full of trucks carrying what looked like brand new bogies, so it was an upgrade for my old coach. Whilst this was going on it became apparent that health & safety and security protocols did not apply to the crowds of babushkas selling food and drink here door to door. I picked up a bottle of Belarus beer and also one from Southern Russia for 200 roubles – a real tourist price, but I’m not into haggling mode yet.

All was going peacefully when a guy from down the carriage popped his head round the door, smiled and asked me if I knew Wayne Rooney. This ended up with us toasting many footballers I have not heard of with a small crowd of Russians, my only translator being a girl who could speak a little English.

I discovered its quite hard to wrap these sort of parties up, and when I tried to leave at midnight it was explained to me that you can’t go to bed without a fresh round of toasts.

A bottle of brandy later I left them with a toast to “Mir”. I thought it was quite nice to toast a space station, but then found out it is actually the Russian for “friendship”.

I was left with one small duty which was making up my bed for the night. I have to be honest with you and say this didn’t go too well. Somehow I collapsed the second bunk and got it stuck on top of my own berth. Seeking help from my Moldovan neighbours resulted in a comedy scene of four people and the Provodnitsa (who I now know to be called “Olga”) trying to fix it. The carriage really is falling apart!

Anyway, its 9am now and the sun is slowly rising. Our next and final stop today is Moscow Belorusskaja. Four days sightseeing in Moscow.

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