Determined to finally escape my lockdown life and get back on the rails, at last I now have a plan, and I think it’s a reasonably cunning one. This feels really good. The first year of my life in the pandemic wasn’t so bad, as at least I was able to use the isolation to write Silver Streak, and still had quite a bit of work to finish off on my HQ. But the second year has felt a lot worse. With nothing in the diary to look forward to or plan towards, I began to drift and lose my train mojo. Like many of us I have experienced some dark moods, but I’m lucky to have some wonderful friends around me who have helped keep me smiling. So I pressed the button on booking some flights just a week or so ago, and just the act of making a booking has immediately lifted my spirits. I find myself back with the satisfying focus of planning and organising my new adventure. Having been a bit of a hermit here for two years, it’s going to be thrilling to be back out in the world.

I’m going back to Thailand. This wasn’t my original plan and at face value might not sound too adventurous. Apart from the delayed Mauritania trip, I had been working towards returning to Sri Lanka to further explore the country by train. My problems there were not insurmountable, but I felt that I was pushing absolutely everything uphill. This was rather surprising to me at a time when you would think people would welcome writing about a place that badly needed to promote tourism. My frustration grew for a few weeks, and then one evening in front of the fire (with a reasonable glass of sherry!) I made the decision to completely change tack. It was a decision of the heart, but sometimes you need to trust your gut feel. I think its good to be able to recognise when its better to start again and move on, so I have packed my research notes and maps into a small box, hoping to revisit this plan in the future.

So on to Thailand. I love Thailand; I love its trains, I love its food and most of all, I love its people. So why not explore Thailand by train instead? And there it was. I worked into the night concocting a rough plan to see if it would pass my litmus test of enough trains, interesting places and unusual things to do. A careful blend of comfort in a plan, but unpredictability that things are bound not to go as planned. By dawn I had a new map on the wall, and it already had lots of labels and coloured pen marks.This is always always a good sign – white smoke out of the chimney here at the Engine Shed!

It’s not going to be an A to B kind of journey, but more of a slow burn series of adventures. I’m thinking of it as a ‘grand tour’. All the rails in Thailand lead to Bangkok, so that will be my forward base, and I will head out on the 4000 kilometres of tracks as far as I can – within sight of Burma, Laos, Cambodia and Malaysia. The journey has had to be adjusted a little bit as a result of the current COVID rules. I’d love to visit places on the other side of each border, but at the time of writing, this would entail a huge amount of red tape and multiple quarantines, so I shall stay within the land of smiles. In passing, the photos in this blog were taken when I did the run from the UK to Singapore a few years ago – this become the book A Bridge Even Further. Back then I came across the border from Cambodia at Poipet and left through the Malaysian border at Padang Besar. I shall be revisiting these routes.

I’m looking forward to witnessing some big changes to the Thai rail network first hand. This year Bang Sue Grand will finally open, the largest railway station in South East Asia, and many fear that the wonderful Hua Lamphong will cease to be ‘Bangkok Station’. Like most, I’m rather sad about that, and want to see it in its full glory for one last time. At the same time new rail links are opening up. Perhaps the biggest one is from China across Laos to Thailand, proving a new way to reach further south bypassing Vietnam and a few dusty bus trips in Cambodia. But even that route is changing, and there are also plans for investment in electrification of parts of the Thai rail network. This all has to be good news for train travel in South East Asia.

Travelling by train in Thailand is fun. It’s also cheap and easy to organise, allowing me to be less constrained by a fixed itinerary than I might normally be. I will add a list of trains I’m planning to take on the adventures page (link above). I’m planning a mix of 1st, 2nd and 3rd class, day trains and night trains, Korean carriages, Chinese carriages, Japanese carriages and Thai carriages. I’m getting it all sorted as you read this. The red tape to enter Thailand is quite substantial at the moment, and many travel blogs describe the challenges with the process of getting extended visas, a Thailand Pass, and quarantine arranged, but I’m sure it will all be worth it. I’m trying to achieve a few things each day, and building up bundles of documents to upload in a format that will hopefully be approved.

If you have any thoughts, or ideas for things to do or top tips for getting the most out of life on the rails in Thailand, please do leave a message here or say ‘hello’ on Twitter – OnTheRails. I will update on the plan once I have things more organised.

Well I have decided to do something about this, so in a small but significant move I have packed up my bag this week ready to go. NLP guru Tony Robbins would be proud of me. I’m going to take immediate and positive action next time the next big idea arrives. My bag is going to sit by my front door at Expedition HQ, ready for business. Then when that idea for an adventure arrives, hopefully I will have the courage and focus to simply just go; walk out the door. “JFDI”, as people wearing red braces used to say annoyingly loudly in the office in the early 1990’s..

This brings me neatly on to what I have packed. I have experimented with my gear for several big trips, and not knowing the exact needs of where I will be travelling to, have packed a bag that will be sufficient for most environments. Most of this kit is proven and has served me well for over 100000 km of rails, from deserts to jungles, and from -30 to +30 degrees centigrade. The ultimate kit stress test was perhaps managing to blow up a MacBook in Tibet, as a result of high altitude and very dry air causing arcing as it charged. I should add that was immediately replaced on descent to Hong Kong at the genius bar of the Kowloon Apple store. I love Apple. There was no question of what I was doing with it, just help getting me going again, far away from home.

At this time of the year in the northern hemisphere I don’t think I will need my full winter gear, but I can always add my Siberian kit if the North Cape becomes a possibility. I have left my Timberland boots out, they work well in all climates, and also my lucky ushanka hat – mine has the badge of a Soviet Fleet Admiral, which always proves to be a talking point in countries that were once behind the Iron Curtain.

(click on image to enlarge)

I have written about my choice of luggage before in both of my books, Trans Siberian Adventures and A Bridge Even Further. Having tried all sorts of things, I favour a wheeled bag, but one with soft sides. These days I use one made by Eastpack. My day bag is a Tenba camera bag, which is comfy and very secure. I then have a simple light but strong nylon bag for shopping, so that I can grab food and water on the go and on platforms. I call this foraging.

Inside my main bag I use a system of packing cubes for my clothes. I have several smaller bags for things like wash kit, toilet sanitation, first aid, and fixing things should they break – not just my equipment, but the carriage too. My first aid kit could be the subject of an article in its own right. I basically take the view that I am unlikely to need to provide emergency treatment for major wounds for very long, but more likely to need to deal with travel related conditions when I might be some days from English speaking medical help. I therefore carry a range of painkillers, antibiotics, travel sickness and dehydration treatments. I showed it to a nurse when I was sick in Vietnam a couple of years ago, and she thought it was so good that she helped my make it even better. I keep sterile needles, dressings, prescriptions, inoculation records and copies of travel insurance documents in here too.

My writing and blogging gear is a bit bulky, but needed for my work. I use a straight MacBook (the thinest Mac out there) and a Fuji X-T20 camera with an external Rode microphone for film work. I carry a small Manfrotto tripod too. With these come a range of cables and adaptors for every occasion. The lesson seems to be that cables stop working at the worst moment unless you have a spare. But if you carry a spare, they never stop working..

I have added two Nalgene water bottles for the next trip in an effort to cut back on single use plastic. I’m still looking for the perfect insulated carrier for one of them to help me in hot environments. I carry a metal insulated mug and plenty of jasmine tea bags, as well as a coffee maker. The Handpresso machine I favour is missing from the main photo as it was not at HQ, so I have added a picture of it above in use on one of my Trans-Siberian runs. To eat with, I have a single light and strong ‘spork’ (a metal KFS is incredibly heavy). I can cut and prepare things with a Swiss Army knife – I favour the ‘Climber’ model, as it has scissors and hook in addition to the basic blades.

Other items include scales to weigh my bags, a strong combination cable lock, two power packs and a tactical pouch for knives, tools, torches, and a whistle. I also carry a notebook, a Kindle and a box of business cards. Not pictured, I use an old school iPhone (5) and a pair of noise cancelling Bose headphones, the on ear type. That way I can listen to as much Steely Dan and Pink Floyd as I like, without being disturbed, or disturbing others.

Oh, and I never leave home without at least one good adventure book either. I like passing it on to other travellers I meet when I have finished it. Its kind of a tradition.

I hope you found this of interest. Do you carry something on your adventures that I have forgotten?

The train language of the rest of the world has had limited chance to interbreed with the U.S, leaving America with a unique set of rail words. Most make some sense to English speakers, but a variety of carriage (sorry, car) types and multiple names for the same thing can at times become confusing. In addition, the first time traveller may be surprised by the way the jargon is phrased up with words not heard very often on the other side of the pond. Tickets might be inspected “presently” and the dining car might open “momentarily”. The language is both polite and direct. Once introduced, expect to be called Mr or Miss and then often your first name, and also frequently as just “Sir” or Ma’am”.

Here is my introductory Amtrak language lesson. Please read and repeat until fluent!

ACAT Menu Specials – Amtrak Culinary Advisory Team dishes are interesting looking dinner choices on the restaurant menu of some of the Superliner trains. They are never actually available to order though, so don’t get too excited by reading about them. Take my advice and stick to steak or chicken with baked potato.

All Aboard! – always shouted by the conductor before he signals for the doors to be closed by the car attendants. It’s hard not to join in the fun and shout “all aboard” too.. it can feel a bit like “Von Ryan’s Express” at times with smoking stops on a long journey.

Amfleet Coach Car – standard single deck seated coach car.

Baggage – luggage. Occasionally weirdly used in the plural, like “your baggages must not be left in the corridor”. Travel with as little carry on baggage as possible as there might not be room for both you and your suitcase in a Roomette. You can store it on racks located on the lower level if it won’t fit though.

Bedroom – a room with two beds and an en suite toilet and shower in a Dorm Car. This as luxurious as it gets on an Amtrak train, and you can imagine being in a classic train film like “Silver Streak” whilst you dress for dinner. (N.B. No one else will be dressing for dinner though)

Bed – it’s a bed, not a berth. The lower bed in a Roomette is much better than the upper one. It is bigger and more padded. Negotiate well with your partner if you are sharing.

Bedroom Suite – Two twin Bedrooms with separate en suite rooms joined together by an interconnecting door. The sort of room James Bond would have with the beautiful woman next door if he were travelling on Amtrak, obviously.

Brakeman – old fashioned name for the Conductor, sometimes still used to describe the person responsible for the running of the train.

Breakfast – served in the restaurant, or delivered to your room by the car attendant if you are in a Sleeper and they are in a good mood. Avoid the Creole sauce and grits with your eggs unless you are very adventurous.

Bumper – the end of the line. For example, Conductor: “that’s us up on the bumper at 12.36”

Business Class – rarely seen upgraded coach class car with inclusive benefits like food and wifi. Probably used more on regular non Superliner trains. Most business people in America travel by plane, so not in great demand.

Cafe Car – the lower deck of the Observation Car has a bar and snack shop and a few tables. Open longer hours than the restaurant. Mainly serving passengers in coach class as those in Sleeperettes have meals in the restaurant included. Unlimited supply of ice and often run by a barman who has trained at the Amtrak equivalent of Butlins.

Car – a rail carriage, not a road based car – that would be a “vee-hicle”..

Coach Attendant – confusingly sometimes also called a Conductor. Responsible for rooms on Sleeper cars and anything you might need during your time on the train. Be polite and tip well for the best possible service.

Coach Class – regular daytime seated car that has comfortable seats in Amtrak Coach Car. The Viewliner and Superliner versions feel like first class when compared to many European trains, but with no inclusive benefits like food or drink.

Community Seating – the dining car policy is to place diners together by a reserved dining time. You get to hear the amazing life stories of your fellow table guests. There is no choice in this matter. Most Americans eat early, so usually by 19.45 the dining car will be half empty on its last sitting if you want more peace and personal space.

Cord – the thing you use to plug your phone into the plentiful 120 volt electrical sockets in nearly all the cars. The power supply may not be stable and can be prone to surges, so protection is worth considering.

Conductor – usually a car based attendant responsible for ticketing on a regular train.

De-board – to get off the train.

Depot (“Dee-po”) – often a large junction that may well also be a station. May involve backing in to the platform and lots of tooting of the horn.

De-train – same meaning as “deboard”.

Double Spot – Not a snooker or pool word. This is where the train is longer than the platform, and it stops twice to let passengers from every carriage “deboard”.

Dorm Car – Superliner car which is half used for staff accommodation (lower deck) and connects to baggage car. This isn’t Hogwarts though.

Family Room – 4 bedded room suitable for two adults and two children on lower deck of sleeper car with lots of space, but no en suite.

Gate – entry point to platform, sometimes where tickets are checked.

IC – the intercom, not the PA. The private comms system between carriage attendants for the resolving problems and telling of jokes.

Observation Car – two level car with mix of seating and panoramic windows on the upper deck, bar and cafe below. Usually the social centre of the train and a place to chat with fellow passengers. Just don’t mention politics though.

Lead Service Attendant – the person who supervises service in the dining car. Often heard on the PA announcing dining times and moving people on and off the wait list, depending on his or her mood.

PA – Public address system. Used for all sorts of passenger communication, including dinner reservations, and occasional banter.

Parlour Car – see Dining Car. More specifically the part of the dining car where the on duty service attendant sits and puts together the community seating plan.

Quiet Car – unreserved coach car with no noise, no phone policy. Mainly seen on single deck corridor trains.

Redcap – porter who deals with checked luggage. All big bags are checked in similar to at an airport. The redcaps transfer them to the baggage car.

Restroom – the toilet. On Superliners there is one upstairs and three downstairs per sleeper car.

Resties – a trip to the Restroom.

Roomette – small compartment with two chairs that converts into an upper and lower berth at night. Cosy for one, bit tight for two. Its not a cabin or a compartment.

Service Attendant – person who serves meals and drinks in the dining car.

Shower Room – one per sleeper car located on the lower deck of the Sleeperettes.

Sightseeing Car – see Observation Car.

Smoke Stop – longer stops where baggage is being handled and the conductor invites passengers to stretch their legs on the platform.

Superliner – a two level long distance Amtrak car used on some routes. Deeply impressive.

Surfliner – same as a Superliner but hippyfied and a sign that you are in California.

Sleeper Car – car made up of overnight accommodations – roomettes, family rooms and bedrooms (with en suite toilet). Sometimes also called a Sleeperette.

Transition Car – car set aside for use by crew, usually a sleeperette.

Viewliner – single level/deck version of Superliner used on some Amtrak routes.

Wi-Fi – supposed to be available on most Amtrak trains, but usually impossible to log in to.

To make any sense to your Conductor you should aim to stop using words like “luggage”, “the gents” and “compartment” as soon as possible and embrace speaking Amtrak as fluently as you can. Please do share any new words that you discover and I will add them (“presently”) to this list.

So, let me tell you a bit about my forthcoming  journey. I am planning to travel coast to coast across the United States by train, from New York City to San Francisco. I felt there was a bit of a gap in my train experience, having always headed east – so this time I’m doing something very different. Whilst it’s by no means a challenging journey in the hardship sense, I’m hopeful it will be an enjoyable and fulfilling experience.

The outline of the route that I am taking is as follows –

Amtrak – RE141, New York (Penn) to Washington DC

Amtrak – the “Capitol Limited”, Washington DC to Chicago

Amtrak – the “California Zephyr”, Chicago to Denver

Amtrak – CZ5, Denver to Grand Junction

Durango & Silverton Railroad

Grand Canyon Railway

Amtrak – the “Southwest Chief”, Flagstaff to Los Angeles

Amtrak – CS14, Los Angeles to Oakland (San Francisco)

A lot of people look at me with raised eyebrows when I mention the  word “Amtrak” (especially Americans), and I have much to learn of both the story of the railroad and the reality of train travel in the U.S. today. Did you see how I used an American word there? Don’t panic though, I’m still pronouncing aluminium with a “u”!

I’m pretty much packed and ready to go. If you have read my blog in the past you will know that I have made a few pretty serious luggage mistakes. This time I’m playing it safe and following the Amtrak rules – the sort of rules that don’t exist in Russia or China. My bag must not be bigger in total dimensions than 75 inches, and with a maximum weight of 50 lbs (that’s 190 centimetres and 23 kilos if you happen to be a European). With this in mind I have left behind the kitchen sink, the minibar and most of my Siberian essentials. I have gone for my trusty Samsonite Spinner for a variety of reasons, mainly as it will travel much of the journey checked into the baggage car (that’s a luggage van!).

I hear that Amtrak trains can be cold, so its the reverse of my normal rail experience – hot inside and cold outside. The sleeper trains have restaurant cars, and meals are included, so I have no need to carry an extensive larder with me either. In my kit for this trip I have some new toys, including a new Fujifilm X-T20 camera that shoots 4k video and film at 28 MP. It’s the one with the XF 18-55mm lens. To go with this I also have a new Macbook, not a Pro, but the thinnest 12 inch notebook that I have ever seen. More like a metal table mat!

For those not familiar with the title of this post, it is a homage to one of the most underrated films of 1988. “Midnight Run” stars Robert De Niro in a comedy role. He plays a bail bondsman tasked with bringing accountant Jonathan “The Duke” Mardukas (Charles Grodin) back from New York to Los Angeles. The Duke doesn’t like to fly, so there is lots of train action. It’s a cult classic and well worth a watch if you can get your hands on a copy. It also has a great soundtrack.

I think that’s it for now. I hope you will choose follow my new adventure, and also that you that you like the new look website – I decided it needed to change to better reflect what I’m all about these days. Please do let me know what you think.

The major highlight of such a trip is the huge cultural diversity that you can encounter in just a few days. Every day is a new currency, a new favourite beer, and a place that feels very different to yesterday. If you are unlucky you may discover a new top scam too. Living in Europe we are lucky to have such differences packed into a relatively small amount of space, east to west, north to south.

In terms of trains, Europe has really divided itself into three areas. In the core (rich) EU countries, heavy investment in rail infrastructure has given us a high speed rail network that can propel us effortlessly between member states. Whilst this is progress, the consequence is the slow death of the night train network, one of the huge pleasures of longer range rail adventure. In the second area – countries like Hungary and Romania, there are few high speed trains, but still great night trains and connections with other trains across multiple countries. In the third zone are the countries that have failed to invest in even maintaining their rail network. Travel in Bulgaria, Greece, Turkey (and a few others) is much harder than it used to be – at the moment.

Travelling east it’s possible to get to Budapest in less than 24 hours. After Munich things slow down, and in my view get much more pleasurable. I would commend travel to Central and Eastern Europe by train. I have recently found a new place in my heart for German beer, for Hungarian wine, and for Romanian cafe culture. I have found the trains to be reliable, safe and great to meet local people and admire the scenery of their countries. In Western Europe I think people have the wrong perception of newer EU members as they might just see migrants in their own country. Travel there and you find amazing cities, culture and heritage that isn’t perhaps well represented in the media back at home.

Train wise, you can experience travel at about 300 km/h as far as Munich on the TGV and then a couple of classic sleepers between Munich, Budapest and Bucharest. There is great joy to be had sleeping on a train arriving ready for a new day in a fresh city. I have yet to try the Belgrade route, I understand while slightly faster, the sleepers are not quite as good.

There is a snag coming, and it’s this. Things break down pretty severely from a train point of view as you head beyond Bucharest. The trains are fewer, they are of lower quality, and sometimes there are no trains at all. To be honest going to Istanbul on the train is a hard and difficult journey, and not one to attempt unless you seek the satisfaction of perhaps the biggest prize in European rail adventure.

Would I recommend it? No, not unless you enjoy old trains, multiple train changes, red tape and sleep deprivation. Take a plane from Bucharest or Sofia to Istanbul. But if you must, if you really have that burning “because it’s there” desire, then good for you. Get plenty of rest, buy provisions, and be prepared for the need to crash out on a good bed when you arrive in Istanbul. You are a born again hard core rail adventurer. Bravo!

First the bad news. Interrail isn’t as simple as it used to be. I would expect it to be more expensive, but it’s also now more complicated than it used to be. The need for reservations and supplements seems now to undermine the freedom that it once gave me. Interrailler’s also seem on occasions to be second class citizens, with limited open reservations on some trains. It used to be great to be able to hop on any train and sort it out with the conductor in the old days, but I’m not convinced that is going to work any more. Add to this that I’m keen for a proper bed on the night trains, and a supplement and reservation is needed for any night trains anyway. The price of these at short notice seems the same with or without an Interrail ticket on some of the trains I need to use. To cut a long story short, I’m going to buy my tickets one by one, as I go along. This will be probably be slightly more expensive, but it gives me ultimate flexibility. I will pay more for those last minute tickets, but it seems like the way to go to feel “free”. Interrail is just not the deal it once was. My 2nd class £150 “all you can eat” for a month student ticket in 1987 now costs £489 (as an over 26 year old) before adding on the reservation supplements, which will be several hundred pounds with the sleepers, and of course the Eurostar, which also isn’t included.

There are some other challenges too. The territorial and political landscape of Europe is quite different in some places to how it looked 30 years ago. Last time I went to Istanbul I travelled through Yugoslavia and on to Greece, crossing from Thessaloniki into Turkey. I had to totally avoid countries behind the Iron Curtain, such as Bulgaria and Hungary. These days there is no longer a rail link between Greece and Turkey, but on the plus side, Eastern Europe is mainly visa free. It’s not an easy time to be travelling in some of these parts, and I have considered my security carefully. There are of course risks, but to me they are acceptable.

I have packed my train kit up this week. I’m trying to carry far less than I normally do for the Siberian winter. I have just a single big bag, and if my scales are right, it only weighs 13kg. Add to this my mobile office – a shoulder camera bag, and its the most “alpinist” I have ever been on my rail adventures so far. In case you were wondering, the Iban shield is staying at home, it just lives in my hallway!
I was thinking over breakfast yesterday about my experiences from all that time ago, and what advice my 21 year old self would now give my 49 year old self getting back on the rails of Southern Europe. As a student I might have had little money, but I also had few worries and no real perception of possible dangers or what might go wrong. Young people might not have great life experience, but they are mainly positive and optimistic. Taking chances and being unorganised are all part of the Interrail spirit of adventure. These days I tend to over plan (is there such a thing?) and work through endless scenarios of disaster before setting off. So I think my student self would probably tell me to “chill out”, relax, and have fun. Being a happy Interrailer is all about living in the moment and not worrying about the past or the future. My 49 year old self would probably encourage my younger self to engage better with local people, avoid McDonalds at all costs, and to try and speak a few words of local lingo.

I know the route I’m planning to take now, at least as far as Istanbul. After some research on the original route of the Orient Express, I realise that there are several routes, and none can be achieved exactly in the modern world as they were in the last century. I’m going to travel from Paris to Munich, Munich to Budapest, Budapest to Bucharest, then try my luck at the train and bus routing from Bucharest to Istanbul. The engineering works on the railway lines in and out of Turkey have made train travel all the way impossible for several years now. I had been waiting for this to be fixed, but my impatience has got the better of me – I’m going for it,  train or no train for the last leg from the Turkish border into Istanbul. I’m planning to exit Turkey via Sofia, and then decide if I’m going south to Greece, or north to the Czech Republic and Slovakia.

The interweb has of course made planning such a journey much easier than it was in the 1980’s. I won’t carry a printed timetable with me this trip. A combination of Seat 61, and the DB navigator app give me almost all that is needed. Just add TripAdvisor for some ideas on accommodation and what to see, and I have nearly all that I need. You would think it would be easier to book tickets too, but I have found this quite hard so far, in the end buying some of my tickets over the phone. Many can only be purchased cost effectively at the station in the local country. I had the most luck with Voyages SNCF.

I shall update as the journey progresses. Its not too late to join in!

They asked me if I minded doing a short interview to help introduce myself to their readers. I found it really interesting to do this as I don’t get asked about my motivations very much. If you are interested, you can read it here.
Without wishing to sound too deep, the last few weeks have also proved to be a really good chance to take a step back and think about what I’m trying to achieve and what really I believe in – if you like, my adventure “DNA”. I think this has grown, or possibly even mutated, over the last few years and I will explain why.

When I first set out on the rails I was on a bit of a personal crusade. Finally getting away from the predictability of corporate life, to begin with my journey was one of escapism. But after a couple of years on these journeys I realised that I was getting almost as much pleasure from writing and sharing my adventures with others as from actually completing them. Did this make me a writer rather than a traveller? I like to think that writing is still a bi-product of my adventures, but they are now so inter twined that one needs the other.

As things progressed I decided I needed a way of describing to others what it was that I now did. It might seem trivial, but some people seem to judge others by their job title. Plus there were companies who wanted me to write for them. What did they expect me to be? Was I an explorer? An adventurer? A traveller? A writer? Or was it much simpler than this – was I just an escapist? I struggled with this at first. These labels can be tricky and mean quite different things to different people. Furthermore, social media these days is positively crowded with people calling themselves “explorers” and “adventurers”.

In the space of one month in 2014 I met two people with very different outlooks, both of whom shaped my thinking. The first was Sir Ran Fiennes, without doubt a man who lives up to his tag as “the world’s greatest living explorer”. There was obviously no way I felt I was going to call myself an explorer after that meeting. I haven’t been to either pole, can’t ski and I get a headache when climbing Kilimanjaro. So if I wasn’t an explorer what was I? Then I met Robert Twigger (one of my favourite authors and a source of much writing inspiration), and he said he felt he was an explorer by the fact that he fulfilled the role of bringing information back from his travels and telling others about his experiences. I do that too, all the time.

After much deliberation I ended up settling for describing myself as being an adventurer, as it feels closest to what I feel I actually do. But I still worry that this tag has issues. I recently read a great post by Tom Allen on his blog that highlights the problems with this. It’s called Debunking the myth of the modern day “adventurer”. Read it if you have time, but in summary Tom highlights how people can quickly end up spending more time marketing than exploring.

As a result of all this reflection I have also realised that I might actually have a point of difference. My adventures are challenging at times, but they are actually very accessible to most. After all, you don’t need to be a hardened polar explorer or fitter than a Sherpa to travel somewhere far away by train. Rail adventures are not really about uniqueness or massive human difficulty, but about imagination and accessibility – albeit with a need for some time, focus and determination. My audience and those I interact with are really interesting. I’m not just communicating to people enjoying reading about my journeys, but to people that I hope will choose to get out there and have adventures of their own. All I have done is helped to light the blue touch paper.

So next time at I’m at a dinner party and someone asks me what I do I shall look them in the eye and tell them that I’m a rail adventurer and be rather happy about that.

There was some excitement at expedition HQ this week when a package arrived from from the team behind the European Rail Timetable. I last held “The Bible” back in 1988 and it was an immediate trip of nostalgia into past European rail adventures. Back then it was produced by Thomas Cook who had been printing the “continental” timetable since 1873. Today it still produced in the familiar format, and is now run independently since Thomas Cook discontinued their involvement in 2013.

In today’s world to some it would perhaps be inconceivable that there was a time when there were no smartphones, and the only way to plan a trip was using a paper timetable. Yet on my trips around Europe in the 1980’s the guide was probably the second most important possession that I carried after my trusty blue coloured British passport. But it was more than just something that told you how to get from A to B. It had a certain spiritual and comforting quality about it. When the chips were down it could always be called upon to provide a solution. As disciples we studied the special language of notes and symbols. It became indispensable. I had not realised how much of a devotee I had become until I lost it.

I remember the day well. I was on Nice station platform with two school friends, feeling rather smug at having just completed the run down to Marrakech and back without too many problems. The supermarket supply run had been completed, and we were concentrating on securing our own compartment on the night train to Rome. Bagging a compartment back then involved either sending one person in at each end of the carriage in a pincer movement, or sometimes even bundling one person through the window in middle of the carriage.

My role on this occasion was the easy one – to look after the bags whilst the compartment was grabbed in our well rehearsed tactical manoeuvre. The guide was right next to me on a bench as this went on. At this point I was distracted by a couple of rather easy on the eye ladies on the opposite platform. I must have been day dreaming, as the next thing I remember was looking back and seeing the train slowly gliding away from me. Rowan Atkinson has rather stolen this sketch from me in his “Mr Bean’s Holiday” movie. I needed to run for it, but that wouldn’t look very cool, so I kind of casually walked backwards a few steps towards the train before turning and jumping on. I made it to the carriage behind the one I needed – I should mention that the train wasn’t speeding, just going at a walking pace and there were no locking doors back then.

Whilst this was a thankful outcome for me, it left two problems. The immediate one was that I was in a couchette carriage and it was locked at both ends, and the less immediate but far more serious was that I was guilty of leaving our trusty and semi religious rail timetable on the platform bench. The rest of that trip we felt somewhat listless and without a properly planned route. The lack of our own timetable meant we could make it from A to B, but had no idea where C was going to be until we got to B, or that it might have been more interesting to go via D.

Today it clear to see how we have become conditioned to search for what we think we need online. Rail operators suggest routes that they think we are looking for, but little known alternatives and options can be hidden from the results. The conditioning effect is that you start to imagine that they don’t exist or are not possible on the dates you type into your screen.

The first thing that crossed my mind on consulting my new Bible was that if I am to recreate the correct route of Orient Express, I should consider the “boat train” to Paris. Many of us will forget that before we dug the Channel Tunnel this was the norm, but today jumping on the Eurostar is the default choice. The printed timetable shows me the ferry connections to take me from London to Paris together with connecting trains. I can also see a much wider variety of routes across South Eastern Europe. I have become too reliant on following the online route suggestions of others, sometimes in isolation of the alternatives.

The remaining winter nights will fly by as I create routes and connections of my own by carefully scanning the pages and relearning the codes and conventions of the European rail timetable. Of course I will still use this in conjunction with online timetables, but like going walking in the mountains with just a GPS, I shall have a map and compass (aka the Bible) with me as well.

I’m now in the final phase of preparation for my latest challenge. This post is a bit of a recap on my plan, just in case you might not have read some of my earlier posts. In a couple of weeks I shall be heading east again – this time with a destination of Hong Kong. But there is a twist. I’m going to take the Trans-Manchurian route across Siberia, and then the Qinghai – Tibet railway to Lhasa, before crossing back again across China towards my final destination. My trains will be mainly be the slow and old fashioned variety, and I have a arranged a few “weird weekends” along the way, so I should have some interesting experiences to share.

If you have read my blog before, you might wonder why I’m not taking the “Silk Route” across Central Asia this year. After all, I have already made three Trans-Siberian crossings. I must love Siberia! The Silk Route was certainly my original objective for this year, but sadly I have had to shelve it once again for logistical reasons. Whilst the situation for visitors to Iran is getting progressively better, the visa rules are still very hard to meet for the solo British traveller – especially coming over by train from Turkey. The situation in Turkey itself is unfortunately getting worse, with the Trans-Asia Express now cancelled, apparently owing to security concerns. In Europe, the line into Turkey is currently dug up with engineering works coming in from both Sofia and Bucharest. For me, arriving in Istanbul by bus just isn’t an option. On the other side of the route, the ‘Stans remain workable, but some of the connections still need a lot of patience, and security isn’t brilliant in a couple of places. So I am going to wait until things hopefully get more a bit more straightened out. I think there will always be some sort of problem on this route, so when most of it next “lines up” I shall just go for it.

Source: National Geographic (1956)

Back in July I regrouped at expedition HQ and consulted the huge National Geographical map on the wall in my study – “Asia and Adjacent Areas” (the 1956 edition – it keeps me on my toes!) – this gave me the idea for a different route. There was another possibility – to cross Siberia again, into China via Manchuria and then to get up onto the high ground from the Chinese side. The Qinghai-Tibet railway is a marvel of modern engineering, and I immediately realised Lhasa would be a great objective. Then it is all downhill from there (literally) as I head for the finish line in Hong Kong. Given this will be my fourth crossing of Siberia, I have decided to take the much lesser known Trans-Manchurian route, which bypasses Mongolia, heads for Harbin and crosses directly into China at a place called Manzhouli. The history of this line is quite interesting with all sorts of construction problems including crossing the Greater Khingan Mountains, bandit troubles, and an outbreak of the plague. More of this in future posts.

So that’s the cunning plan – the route is just over 20000 km, with the usual Siberian winter challenges and also a climb to over 5000 m at the Tanggula Pass on the way to Lhasa. In more detail, the route looks like this:

• Edinburgh – Newcastle – Amsterdam – using the DFDS ferry crossing (to Imjuden)
• Amsterdam – Berlin – on the IC 147 train
• Berlin – Warsaw – on the EC 43 train
• Warsaw – Moscow – on the new Russian version of the D10SZ train
• Moscow – Irkutsk – Harbin – Beijing – on the “Vostok” 020 train
• Beijing – Xian – Xining – Lhasa – on the Z21 train
• Lhasa – Xining – Xian – Guangzhou – on the Z266 train
• Guangzhou – Hung Hom (Hong Kong) – on the Z823 train

I’m taking day trains as far as Warsaw this year. It will make a change to see some places in the daylight, and also to enjoy a stopover in Berlin. The D10 has been moved to an evening departure with the new winter timetable – I understand it to be a new train, so that’s a bonus. My intel on the “Vostok” is a little limited, but I’m hopeful it will turn out to be a very reasonable train. As for China, its going to be interesting. I have no real expectations of the specially built carriages for the high altitude legs. I’m just happy to have a ticket on these sectors, as I hear by reputation that they can be really hard to come by. For this I have Real Russia to thank once again.

There is not too much left to organise now. My bags are pretty much packed and I’m just busy printing out several copies of all the red tape at HQ, whilst drinking a lot of tea. All my permits and visas have now been issued, and I have tickets as far as my forward operating base in Beijing. One of my little travel pleasures is having paperwork that is fully “in order”. This normally smooths the red tape at border crossings. So I have a bulging folder with everything sorted in chronological order and printed in duplicate. My mobile office will be a couple of kilos lighter when I shift some of this paperwork into the hands of enthusiastic officials. I have also started popping vitamin pills and taking more exercise. Some last minute guilt that I should be fitter than I currently feel for what is ahead!

If you find this trip of interest you can follow it here on my blog – and also at Wanderlust. If you would like to stay in touch, please do connect with me via the links above. There are sections of this journey where I will have no connection to the outside world, and also places where blogging is not easy. I always publish notifications of progress and updates and new posts on my social media.

My next post will probably be from the North Sea!

By some coincidence, this week marks the exact 100th anniversary that “Endurance” was finally swallowed by the ice of the Weddell Sea in 1915. (In passing there is a brilliant exhibition of restored photographs now open at the Royal Geographical Society in London to mark this event).

The front room of 14 South Learmonth Gardens has been a place of inspiration and planning for me during the past year. Of course I make no comparison between my own adventures and the legend who I like to call “the Shak”. However, by historical link 2016 is also the 100th anniversary of the completion of the first Trans-Siberian rail route (from Moscow to Vladivostok).

Shackleton lived in Edinburgh whilst he was President of the Scottish Geographical Society, and it was also during this time that he led the “Nimrod” expedition (1907-09), at that point travelling further South than anyone else before.

The return journey back to the Nimrod makes for some interesting reading – “We are so thin that our bones ache as we lie on the hard snow“, wrote Shackleton. From 18 February onward they began to pick up familiar landmarks, and on the 23rd they reached Bluff Depot, which to their great relief had been copiously resupplied by Ernest Joyce. The range of delicacies over and above the crates of regular supplies was listed by Shackleton: “Carlsbad plums, eggs, cakes, plum pudding, gingerbread and crystallised fruit“.

I’m not planning to be that thin, but I shall pack some gingerbread on my next adventure just in case I find myself with aching bones in the chill of a Siberian station platform. We held the talk in the front room of Number 14. It was a great way to get a sense of what parts of my adventures are interesting to others. It has also been the first time that I have tabled my next journey on a map to other people ahead of setting off – I like the feeling of doing that and seeing the reactions around the room. My thanks to Channings Hotel and Keith Parsons, my publicist, for pulling it all together.

In other news this week, I now have all my tickets in my bag as far as Beijing (or Peking as the Russian ticketing system still refers to it). Intriguingly on the D10 “Polonez” train to Moscow I am in carriage 344. As there is no carriage 344 currently on this train, I hope its an auspicious sign of the new Russian service using brand new Austrian carriages starting just a few days before my journey. The rumour is the carriage has a shower. Wonders may never cease!

More interesting news is that I have been given a carriage number and a berth on the train from Beijing to Lhasa. This is big result as it was always going to be the hardest single train to get a ticket for. It looks like I have made it to “First Class Soft” (a four berth shared compartment), but it is hard to tell too much at this stage, as I don’t actually see my tickets until I reach my forward operating base in Beijing.