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.

The rum news was that the carriage next to mine – 271 – was missing. I say this not because I felt sorry for passengers hoping to get a seat on board carriage 271, but because it’s main purpose was to serve me my breakfast. They had forgotten to add the restaurant carriage. I had really been looking forward to this meal, as PKP chefs make a wicked ham and scrambled egg dish coupled with having excellent barista skills. Perhaps even worse was that I had no emergency rations (or even water) in my bag. It would be a day of fasting. The journey takes about 5 hours, so not the end of the world, but a useful lesson to me not to take it for granted where the next meal is coming from.

We chugged out of Hbf about 5 minutes late and navigated slowly through the maze of tracks east of Berlin. I actually managed to get some sleep for an hour or so, until we arrived at Frankfurt (Oder) – the Polish border. I continued to snooze, but after half an hour I noticed we had not yet moved. Out on the platform a few people were smoking and not looking like they were going anywhere in a hurry so I got out to investigate. I found a conductor (actually a conductress) who spoke some English, and the news wasn’t good. The train was due a crew change, but the crew had not turned up. We could be here for some time. I thought about this for a while, and decided to break the cardinal rule of long distance rail travel – never leave a train out of sight with your luggage still on board..

My plan was to take advantage of the delayed train and run a local foraging expedition to make up for the lack of scrambled eggs on board. Knowing I was about to undertake a high risk mission I explained my predicament to the conductor. She thought about it, and seemed to take quite a while considering how long she thought we might be here for without being very conclusive. I finished up by saying “You promise you won’t leave without me?” She smiled, looked at me with kind but I thought quite professional eyes, and said “For sure”.

So with a sense of schoolboy excitement that I was breaking my own rules, I found a cafe at the far end of the station and scored some fresh coffee and rations to last the day. In hindsight I need not have hurried, but it’s human nature not to want to be stranded – these are after all exactly the sort of railway events that I sometimes have nightmares about!

We got on the move again after a couple of hours. I could have actually enjoyed a full course lunch had I known. The new crew is Polish, and a bit like my crossing from Holland the other day, it would seem the crews to stick to their native country on the train, not crossing the border. The new conductorski spent quite a long time explaining or apologising on the PA system for why we were so late and hungry. I could not really understand a word, as we have now moved from announcements in three languages, to just in Polish.

The seriousness of the situation became clear a few minutes later when a nice Polish girl appeared with some PKP emergency supplies. Prince Polo wafer biscuits are standard first class fare, but this time a chocolate almond and a raisin cookie. Things must be really bad!

As the light faded we crossed the increasingly misty and frozen Polish countryside. I think I’m pretty much crossing the line of permanent snow now until I head south again in China. It’s not that cold here, but just enough to keep snow on the ground.

I’m hoping to arrive in Warsaw Centralina just an hour and half late this evening. It’s not been the perfect day on the rails, but it’s good to have a few things not quite work out. I feel this tests my confidence and resolve to stay positive in the event of a more serious problem.

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.

Anyway fortune smiled on me at hotel’s check the in desk, something about being an Elite member, a junior suite, and the 38th floor was all I really recall hearing, oh and also mention of free drinks in the Executive Lounge. It must be spiritual payback for all the fun and games in Germany!

Although all I really wanted to do was to lie down, I dropped my bags off and headed out for a feast in a restaurant I know in the “old town”. For “old town” please read as something tastefully rebuilt after 1945. Lunch consisted of Russian dumplings followed by a pork escalope served with sourkraut, all washed down with a cold Zyivitz beer. I didn’t achieve much else that day, as by the time I got back to the hotel I was a spent force having had no real sleep in three days. The amazing views out the window were a bit wasted on me as I was fast asleep!

I had saved the most important mission until the next day. A visit to the Polish Armed Forces Museum to view their Enigma machines. If like me you have recently seen “The Imitation Game” then you might have done some reading on the subject. I had not previously not known about the work of the Polish mathematicians and the French intelligence gathering. The Poles had virtually cracked the code in 1939 before the Nazis added another rotor to the machine.

They shared everything with the British and their work at Bletchley Park. Today the museum has two machines, one “commercial” machine and one Kreigsmarine machine donated by Great Britain to Poland in the 1980’s.

The rain has cleared up today and been replaced by a biting wind from the east. It is a reminder that the weather will not be mild where I am headed for much longer. Time now to pack and prepare for the next leg. It’s going to get all “Cold War” tonight, so I hope my papers are in order!

The EN447 “Jan Kiepura” is a good train (note – seemingly now also being called the “Berlin – Warsaw Express”). It bashes through Germany in the middle of the night with the minimum of fuss and tooting. I have reviewed the journey on this blog before if you want to look back under the “Poland” label to the right of this page.

Last night after not getting on the train until after midnight, I found it hard to settle down. A cold can of pilsner helped, and my routine was quickly in place, including a “pillow raid” using my secret rail key.

The problem was about the quality of my sleep. Carriage 180 is a proper old school blue painted wagon-lit, and I can’t fault it. I have been on it several times before and It is in fact the type of compartment I would happily have on any train if there were a choice. Everything on board is spotlessly clean, safe, and works well. The WARS conductor is always super friendly. But yet I found sleep elusive even though I was pretty tired. Firstly there is the noise of wind ripping past the window, the vacuum of the tunnels and the random banging and clattering in the corridor. Secondly, there is the insane roller coaster feel of movement in all directions as the train tucks in and out of the suburban sprawl of Germany at some pace on what feel like banked corners. Thirdly, there is the bed itself. It’s quite firm and great if you sleep on your back, but not so good if you prefer other positions, having little room on either side and no “give”. I tried a few new train positions in an attempt to nod off – “the stork”, “the angry fireman”, and “the bricklayer”. All I need is a good illustrator and I might have the idea for a tastefully done new best seller.. It’s the title of this blog.

Anyway, I decided to get up and on with the day just after 08.00am with a stiff back, neck and shoulders after a night of tossing and turning. There is a really good restaurant carriage that gets attached to this train at the Polish border, but I’m saving myself for a cabbage and dead animal based feast at lunchtime. I am however enjoying what I rate to be one of the world’s finer onboard cups of coffee..that is until I get out my portable espresso machine (seriously!). The train is due into Warsaw in a little under three hours and then I’m on a 24 hour R&R to recharge my batteries before heading further east. I’m going to spend some time on the trail of the Polish Enigma story.

Then it all gets surreal. A bunch of babushkas are let on the train to sell food and drinks – so I’m having an unplanned picnic of beer and home made cheese stuffed blinis. Utterly delicious. One of them proved quite hard to make leave my compartment, and I’m not entirely sure about what she was selling – she had closed the door so it was just her and me in my cabin.

Whilst all this is going on the manly men in orange hi vis vests and ushankas (no hard hats here!) get on with the job of lifting each carriage and hammering off the bogies. If you are a train spotter you probably would not be able to contain your excitement at seeing this happen..

Its fairly quiet on the train now as passengers settle down for the evening. I have just had a quick lecture in keeping my door locked at night from the stewardess – at least I’m guessing that is what she said, as we don’t have more than a few words of German in common. Or maybe she was telling me to keep the chain on in future to keep stray babushkas out of my compartment?

I’m pretty confused by the timetable and guessing Belarus may have a time zone of its own that I didn’t know about, but its academic as the train finishes in Moscow tomorrow so I can’t miss my stop, at least, I don’t think I can…
Lots of tooting going on outside now and we have just crashed (sorry, shunted) into the next carriage – I think we will be back on the move soon.

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 hadn’t eaten for a day, so I treated myself to a slap up lunch in the “old” town (I don’t think much of it dates much before 1945 though). It looks quaint, but is totally lacking in people and things going on to my untrained eye. Lunch comprised of lots of different coloured piles of cabbage, some potato dumplings and some nicely cooked dead animal, which was all good.

Fortified by the meal I headed over to the Polish National Army Museum, which for me was an absolute gem. Outside there was tonnes of Cold War junk (always a good sign!) and inside some really well curated collections.

I loved the ballistic missile launchers sat there rusting away – just like the type used in a personal favourite comedy movie, “Spies Like Us” – it was a shame that I had in fact on this occasion left my satscram decoder at home.. too much stuff to carry!

I was surprised to find the Soyuz 30 capsule which has been amazingly well preserved – when you look inside you can really understand the huge number of strange buttons and the lack of room to move once strapped in (assuming you could get in). Soyuz 30, flown by a Pole, landed in a field in Russia in 1978. This one is better preserved than all the other Soyuz capsules I have seen in Russia, China and Vietnam (in case you are wondering, like Poland, there was a Vietnamese astronaut on one of the missions, so the capsule was donated).

The evening proved to be interesting – in a Loius Theroux wierd sort of a way… Outside the hotel at the prearranged time appeared Wojtek, not in a limosine car but a small “old school” Zuk fire engine. Using all of the three forward gears and challenging pram type suspension, he proceeded to show me round some interesting places and bars for the evening.

Our last stop was a fire fighters bar, called OSP Saska Kspa. It’s where you come to park your fire engine and let your hair down at the end of a busy day! All in all a really nice way to spend an evening seeing parts of Warsaw that tourists would not normally see – check out “Behind the Scenes” over on TripAdvisor if you want to see more.

I’m packing up now, and getting ready for a transit through Belarus on my way to Moscow later on.

Having left Amsterdam on time last night, I woke at about 8.00am today after a very poor night’s sleep on the EN447. Just as well, as the guard explained we were running about 40 minutes early. The timetable changes today, so this was the last ever train to sit in Berlin for an hour – in future it will go for another loop around suburban Germany.

The train is a good one – spotlessly clean with all the key mod cons. My compartment is treated as first class as I have it for sole occupancy. So I settled in last night and watched as we passed through Arnhem and over the bridge – no lights, so not much to see. Sleep proved elusive. If you have ever seen Tom Woolfe’s  “The Right Stuff” you may recall how they tested Mercury astronaut candidates to see how they react to stress with a series of noises and surprising happenings. This train is quite similar in that it belts around Western Europe and the driver likes to show off his acceleration and late breaking skills to keep up with the timetable. So it was a bit like a wild fun fare ride, and in my slumber I kept wondering how he could see where he was going at this speed in the darkness. It’s not the steady rattle of the rails like on the Trans-Siberian, but banking and curves that mean the carriage moves unpredictably in all dimensions.

My secret key put in its first trip appearance last night. If you have not heard about this before, many railway companies use a guard’s key based on the same thing as a British Gas cupboard meter key. Thus I was able to help myself to an extra pillow from a locked berth, and open the window (huge mistake actually as I could not close it again and the wind whistled through at 100 mph all night).

I hoped off at Warsaw Central (no announcements, so ready to jump out the door well in advance) and navigated the labyrinth of tunnels that link the station to the outside world. My hotel said they had no rooms ready in the morning, so I managed to pay an extra £50 and get a suite immediately. It was the right call as even after just a day travelling I really needed a shower. Quite a shower it is too, as it has a view out across the city! More to follow on the city..

Distance covered so far – 1900 km, GMT +1, -5 C, cloudy.

Well that was quite interesting. The Amsterdam train was two hours late into Warsaw but they had held the Moscow train for our arrival. I didn’t see them switch any carriages but they might have done – Amsterdam to Minsk & Basel to Moscow carriages both travel this route. My carriage attendant, who was doing a first class job with little English, gave me a voucher – apparently PKP actually financially compensate passengers when they are this late. It’ll never catch on in the United Kingdom!

When I got to the new train (on the very next platform) my heart sank a bit as I had apparently drawn the short straw – carriage 354 has not yet been restored like the others on this train, so has the shabby chic look and feel inside of a cold war submarine.

Anyway, its not all about the latest rolling stock. On arrival on board I met my first Provodnitsa of the trip – pretty casually dressed and very helpful, despite the fact we don’t have a word in common. I think she’s keeping an eye on me in case I get led astray by the other Russians on board!

A bizarre thing happened next. The really friendly waiter from the EN447 (which terminated in Warsaw) got on board my new train and served me pork schnitzel, potatoes and sauerkraut together with a bottle of local beer. How’s that for service and enterprise?

The set up on this train is quite different and so is the atmosphere. I had heard about the dress code – shorts and flip flops would be on the smart end of the scale in first class. I haven’t visited third class on this train, so I don’t know what they choose to wear (if anything). A lot of people leave the compartment doors open, play music and seem quite social in my carriage. It’s actually a nice feel and just what I had hoped for. But I do have to say that it feels inherently wrong wearing a pair of shorts when outside it’s well below freezing. I must remember to change before getting off!

There is no restaurant car on this train, but vitally the Provodnitsa’s compartment has a samovar providing an endless supply of boiling water. In keeping with the submarine feel she also seems to have a lot of buttons and communications stuff.. maybe an Enigma machine too?!

There seem to be at least three officials at work in my carriage. I hear them mention my UK passport from time to time, so I hope I’m not going to be singled out for special treatment at the border with Belarus.

I went for a look at the far end of the carriage, and we have a small snow drift inside the outer part of car. It’s really dry and powdery and seems to get in anywhere there is a gap. No wonder the windows are sealed shut.

I’ve got my feet up right now and the Provodnitsa has just served me tea – quite in keeping with the “Hunt For Red October” feel here in my Captain’s cabin!

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