It’s a short stroll into the station, where I find a large and very peaceful Soviet designed hall that reminds me of a Moscow metro station. I can see a few people waiting, but there is no hustle and bustle here – presumably because there are only two or three trains a day, and it’s not exactly a commuter route taking a meandering nine hour journey over the border to Tbilisi. I speak with a young lady at the ticket counter, and as I had hoped, my train is due to arrive about 30 minutes before departure right outside the hall on platform 1, so I’m in the right place.

As I wander out onto the platform I see the carriages are being shunted onto our platform early. The 202 is the returning ‘Armenian’ 201 service from Batumi, and I recognise some of the crew straightaway. They don’t seem that pleased to see me, but I think that’s just a Soviet railway thing.

This is a summer only train, mainly scheduled to take Armenians to the Black Sea for their holidays. It’s a 16 hour ride to Batumi, but the route the train takes in the summer is still faster than the route in the off season. Lets be honest, this isn’t an ‘express’! The train heading this way is about half full, whereas the one I took coming from Batumi a few days ago was 100% full, as passengers are returning from their well earned summer break.

For this journey I have been able to secure a ticket in SV, first class, and I’m introduced to the lady who runs the single carriage of this type – No. 2 – on the train. Once she has verified I’m not a second class passenger sneaking in to the luxury of SV, I’m shown to a clean and comfy two berth compartment. Here I am dazzled by the extra set of gold net curtains, a pair of VIP slippers and an industrial quantity of fruit pastilles. It turns out I’m not going to have to share today, so I have space to relax and unwind. I like meeting people in shared compartments, but it’s also nice to have a break and a bit of solitude too. That is why I like crossing Siberia with my own compartment so much.

Once I have my gear stowed I hang around on the platform with the crew, and meet a few slightly mad fellow passengers. Nearly everyone is headed to Tbilisi. The timing of this train is such that I don’t really see it as a sleeper, even though I have a bed. Departing Yerevan at 15.30, our arrival in Tbilisi is scheduled for 00.12, so I have a hotel booked at the other end. What I do like about mid afternoon departures like this is that the scenery can be stunning and its good to see everything in daylight before the night draws in. That’s probably the reason it is not so busy – unless you are heading on to Batumi you could just buy a seat in coach. But this is £35 I’m happy to spend for the extra comfort today.

The driver eventually blows the engine whistle, and I’m ushered back on to the train – we set off right on time at 15.30. Other than a minor scuffle over the number of fruit pastilles permissible for a single first class passenger to consume, everything goes smoothly (FYI – it’s just one box). The toilet is kept very clean, the samovar works, and most amazingly the carriage has free wi-fi that seems very fast to me. This is a rail first, as I have actually assembled most of this post whilst on the train. I carry a very thin and light MacBook with me, and my photos can be transferred wirelessly onto it from my Fuji X-T20. I used to do this on my iPad, but now I use WordPress I like to have the full functionality of the OS X version and a decent keyboard.

Watching the desertified plains and rolling hills out the window (train travel cliche!), I eat my rations of a single meagre ham and cheese roll. The Armenians take their bread very seriously and its actually pretty tasty. I decide to take a tactical nap at around 19.00, as I want to be fresh and ready for the border games that will start later on, and there will be no chance to rest then.

Shortly after 21.00 an Armenian soldier dressed in full combats looks in to my compartment, switches on the main light and glances around. Maybe I’m too well camouflaged to be seen in my yellow t-shirt and gold scarf in a compartment completely furnished in shades of yellow and gold. Focussing in my direction he doesn’t seem to concerned to eventually spot me. He takes my passport and after a cursory check, hands it to his boss, who says a lot that of course I can’t understand. Maybe they have noted my special Armenian train camouflage technique?  There is no time for further debate though, as a smartly turned out immigration officer arrives in his dress uniform, complete with the computerised M&B 1980’s “Battleships’ game that is actually his mobile passport scanner. When he stamps my passport I thank him and he says that I’m very welcome. I only hope that these Armenian stamps don’t give me any trouble when I head for Azerbaijan in a few days time. You may well be aware that the direct border between these two countries is closed, which is why I’m headed back to Georgia as an intermediary.

A bit later on I’m visited by a serious man in blue overalls wearing rubber gloves. He’s the customs man, and he asks me a whole checklist of questions which culminate in his interest in cash, gold and firearms. I like to think I have an honest face, and after a while he marks my name off his list and goes back to searching other parts of the train.

We arrive in Tbilisi about 15 minutes late. Its not one of my favourite stations in the world, as the very high bridge between platforms has only stairs, and it’s a long, long, climb up with a 30 kilo bag. Outside I go through the usual taxi routine, and end up with a deal that’s inflated, but not so much as to lose sleep over. The driver looks both disappointed and offended at the same time that he’s only managed to get 20 Lari out of me. And so ends a long trip, my head hits the pillow at about 02.00am.

I’m here in Tbilisi for a few days before embarking on the final leg of this trip to Baku at the weekend.

I’m very early, and at first the guard of carriage number 6 says I can’t come on board for another 25 minutes. This is a Soviet style carriage, so the metal steps are pulled up like a drawbridge, and I’m not getting on until he lowers them. I hang around the carriage taking moody selfies for a future project.

But then just when I’m getting too hot in the afternoon sun, in a turn of good fortune I meet the jovial and larger than life station master, who seems to take a like to me. He’s a big chap with a big personality, and he has more gold braid on his shoulders than a Bolivian tank commander – just a few words from him seems to wither the man on the train, and with a shrug of defeat, I’m in.

Carriage number 6 has four berth kupe style compartments, but with some very Armenian adornments like gold curtains and complimentary fruit pastels. The windows are sealed and the air conditioning isn’t on, so I sit on the steps of the carriage and watch a steady stream of Armenian holiday makers returning home with much baggage.

The train is completely full and I share the compartment with Paul, the first Briton I have met in over a week, a bearded youngish Armenian chap, also headed to Yerevan, and a smartly dressed older man, who is getting off in the middle of nowhere. I have forgotten what kupe class is like, but quickly find myself getting used to the limited space of communal living. I have a lower berth, which gives me bagsy rights on the small table by the window. I’m much happier on the lower beds as night time trips to the toilet can go dramatically wrong when descending from high up.

The journey to Yerevan is around 16 hours, and we pass through Tbilisi at around 10pm before heading south to the Armenian frontier at Ayrum (00.46 am). We have around 30 minutes sat in Tbilisi station, so most of us hang around on the windy platform until summoned back on the train. A couple of American tourists roll up to our carriage attendant and want to swap from where they are located in another coach – I have no idea what has gone wrong, but hang back as I don’t fancy changing berths at this stage.

Much to my disappointment there is once again no restaurant carriage, but I have stocked up on some local cheese stuffed pastries for my supper. Once the sun has set we read and then try and get some sleep; something I don’t manage very well. The Georgian police board the train at around 11.00pm, collect passports and travel with us until the border. I had heard that Armenian security checks could involve a one to one interview, but nothing could have been more different from this tonight. Well after we have actually crossed the border, a smartly turned out soldier enters our compartment (at around midnight) and asks if he can sit on my bed. I’m hardly likely to refuse, and before I know it I’m sat next to him like we were going to play a game of cards. He sets up his passport scanning machine, something that reminds me a bit of a 1980’s electronic version of ‘Battleships’. No further questions are asked, and with my freshly stamped passport back in my hands he leaves us. Our bags were not searched and we were then left alone for the night.

The next few hours were not much fun for me, but this wasn’t really the fault of the train. At one point I needed to use the bathroom with some urgency. I met two large ladies at the end of the corridor who insisted that this wasn’t possible (I think was in their smoking and gossiping space) – ‘its finished” they said, waving their arms – but I haven’t got where I am today by being put off by such people. I returned with the carriage attendant, and as if by magic the toilet door is opened and is working just fine. Second class ‘Kupe’ carriages often smell quite ‘lived in’, and this one was no exception. It might be psychosomatic, but all I could smell was stale urine. Paul smelt nothing other than the burning of our worn out brakes. Added to this the aircon went on and off throughout the night, changing the climate from nice, to sweaty and back again to nice constantly. Just to add to my misery I had tooth ache and the drugs I had didn’t seem to control the pain. I lay there feeling a bit sorry for myself until the sun rose and Mount Ararat (in Eastern Turkey) emerged seemingly close by.. but I couldn’t spot Noah and his Ark.

This hasn’t been a particularly relaxing journey, but the company was good, and you learn to take the rough with the smooth. The carriages were 100% sold out, so do try and get a reservation made well in advance if you are considering taking this train. The beds were comfy, and as long as you bring your own supplies, everything will be fine.

I’m now spending a couple of days in Yerevan – first impressions are very good. I’m actually headed back to Tbilisi on the same train in reverse later in the week, but in single SV (first class), so it will be interesting to compare the experience.