It’s not an uncomfortable boat to be a passenger on, but the accommodation is rather spartan and hugely expensive. My bunk is in a room shared with seven other Russians (they seem to segregate nationalities) at a cost of $350 USD. Most people are in dormitory rooms of 30 or so, some in bunks, some sleeping on mats on the floor. If you want an en suite cabin it’s $800 USD. Madness!

I’m lucky to have Taegeun to talk me through the Korean buffet dinner. It is very popular with the Koreans on board, but the Russians are all absent from what feels like a supper club.

After dinner I’m treated to an introduction to Makguli. It’s a Korean rice wine, and it takes a couple of bottles for me to perfect the mixing and dispense. Taegeun is clearly a master and I am his Padawan learner in the science of this. To complete my Korean 1.01 cultural crash course, it’s an after dinner Korean sing along in the disco.

Sleep does not come easily to me once again, this time as I feel the hot and cramped conditions of the room to be pretty claustrophobic. I drift off in the early hours to be woken by a tannoy announcement at 7.00am in three languages, but not my own.

I then remember why my sleep has been poor – the Russians have been holding a full on party in a stairway near my room all night with some game Koreans. The Russian Far East really is a melting pot of nationalities that seem to tolerate and get on with each other. It feels like a “wild frontier” to me – where Moguls meet Russians, where Koreans mix with Chinese, and where the boundaries of ethnicity and language are at times blurred.

North Korea is now to be seen off the starboard bow and there is reasonable sea swell. We are pitching and rolling in the waves as much as to make me feel on the edge of being unwell. As if by magic Taegeun appears outside my room and says we have been delayed due to Russian ship movements in Donghae harbour. Time for breakfast.. Kill or cure.

It is supposedly Western, but the advertised choice (with a life like plastic model above) has many substitutions – my toast for a bread roll, my bacon for a hotdog, but I am blessed with some complimentary lettuce dressed in a Korean version of soy sauce.

On deck it’s a windy but warm day. The temperature was cold overnight but is now well above freezing. The hills of South Korea are getting closer out of the window of the cafe. I’m can’t put my finger on why, but I’m feeling great. It’s partly about the sunshine and warmer climate here, but also good to be arriving in a new country for the first time.

Priority number one the following morning (after a reasonable breakfast) was to find out about the plans of my ship, the MV Eastern Dream. This was very much in the tradition of Michael Palin and his “Round the World in 80 Days” programme made by the BBC. My intel from Moscow was correct and there she was in the harbour, due to sail a day early – that afternoon at 17.00 local time. At the shipping office my paperwork seemed to all be in order, with just the local port tax to pay.

So just a few hours to get a perspective on the city – closed not just to Westererners, but to Russians as well, until 1992. I like the place, but can’t put my finger on quite why. It strikes me as a Russian version of San Francisco or Istanbul, with a big bridge, lots of hills and a cold sea. It’s very proudly not Moscow or St Petersburg.

Before heading to the port I had the chance to visit C-56, a 1942 WW2 (“Great Patriotic War”) submarine. It was interesting to compare it with British boats of the same age. Natalia, my local interpretor, demonstrates torpedo tube loading drills – she is very proficient, and I suspect this is a place she must visit quite a lot.

The boat has no visible class or rank segregation on board. It’s the captain in his cabin and everyone else together here. No individual mess rooms for officers, artificers, petty officers and sailors like in the Royal Navy.

The museum and war memorial is now in the shadows of the modern Russian Pacific Fleet, dark grey destroyers bristling with guided missiles. All for my safety and security I’m sure!

Perhaps more of a concern to me was the state of the sea. From my hotel bedroom window the previous night I could see that it is in fact…totally frozen. I’m assured by Natalia that an ice breaker will not be required, as the main channel is navigable and it is just the bay that is frozen. It’s covered with people fishing through the ice, sometimes with their cars..

Taegeun, my South Korean friend from train 002, has also managed to get a ticket on the Eastern Dream, and I’m pleased to see him again down at the port. In the immigration queue he apologises to me and explains that as a mark of respect for the older Korean passengers, we should let them all go in front of us. I felt a bit embarrassed as it was such a nice gesture, but not something I’m ever likely to witness back in a boarding queue at Heathrow T3.

A few more stamps in my now overfull passport, a quick sniffer dog search and I have left the Russian Federation. Goodbye Mother Russia!