It was like a beacon slicing through the fog to guide a wayward ship through unknown waters.
The sign read “London Pub,” and I had to look at it for a few minutes to convince myself it was real.
The words would hardly raise eyebrows off Piccadilly Circus, but this was Irkutsk, in — yes, this probably sounds redundant — remote southern Siberia.
The lobby of the ’70s-throwback Hotel Angura didn’t exactly scream five- star property. However, because I had just spent five days traveling from Ulan Bator in Mongolia — including a flight from Moscow and two days on the Trans-Mongolian line of the Trans-Siberian Railway — a sign promising something familiar was a sweet sight after so much time spent negotiating through the fog of language and cultural barriers.
The Hotel Angura is an old Soviet property with staff attendants stationed on each floor. They were helpful — if you could find one who spoke English.
A travel book said the location and efficient service made up for the lack of charm. That was right.
It was early May, and the area was experiencing unseasonably warm weather. Two weeks before it had been bitter cold. On this day, the rooms were stifling, and I wondered if the air conditioning could be turned on. A trip to the front desk was in order.
The lady behind the desk understood the question all right and quickly shot back, “Open the window.”
Yes, it was time to see what kind of welcome awaited at the London Pub.
Born of the Orient Express
My interest in riding the signature trains of the world began almost 50 years ago when I took the Orient Express from Stuttgart, Germany, to Vienna. It was a pleasant ride and a welcome diversion from military life. “Dr. Zhivago” — the book and the movie — shifted my focus to rural Russia. Reading Paul Theroux’s “Riding the Iron Rooster,” with its unflinching look at China during a year’s journey on 40 trains, clinched the deal. After that, it was just a matter of connecting the right amount of vacation time and the best time of the year to go — along with about a year’s worth of intricate planning.
The first thing you need to know about traveling on the Trans-Siberian Railway: Making rail reservations in the United States is almost impossible if you aren’t traveling with a tour. It’s much easier to work with tourism advisers at the location.
The best way to approach the journey is to decide what areas you want to see, fly into one of the major cities (such as Moscow, Vladivostok, Russia, or Beijing), and then purchase tickets there. Unless — and this is important — you’re traveling during the peak season of May to September, in which case, buy ahead. It often sells out.
I was most interested in Ulan Bator one of Denver’s sister cities — outside of Mongolia, Denver is home to the largest Mongolian population in the United States — and Lake Baikal in Irkutsk. At the time of my trip, United Airlines was offering a reasonable fare to Moscow, so I decided to fly there, take another flight to Ulan Bator and then ride the train back to Moscow.
As can often happen with a big trip, fate had other plans for me, though, and a serious bacterial infection that developed in my leg cut my trip short, forcing me to fly to Moscow from Irkutsk, then to Munich, spend a few days on medical hold there and then fly home. It was a great lesson in travel hygiene, navigating (and avoiding) foreign hospital services and understanding what’s covered by medical insurance during overseas travel.
It was nothing, however, compared with the bigger lessons I learned about riding the longest railway in the world, where few people speak English, food can be hard to come by, and accommodations are more like a hostel than a luxury hotel.
No on-off pass
The Trans-Siberian Railway isn’t run like Eurail — you can’t buy just one pass and hop on and off the train. If you’re traveling from Ulan Bator to Moscow and want to get off to see Lake Baikal as I did, you have to buy a ticket from Ulan Bator to Irkutsk and then another ticket from Irkutsk to Moscow.
The disadvantages of this are obvious: You’re hostage to the timetables, because even if you discover that you want to spend more time in one place, you must get on the train when it is scheduled to arrive. Also, if you buy a ticket for the entire trip from Moscow to Beijing and discover that you don’t like this trip, bailing out is not going to be easy.
In general, Mongolia and Siberia radiate solitude and loneliness, and while the locals say they want tourists, they haven’t yet learned how to promote the area.
Before boarding the train, I hired a driver to take me out to visit the nomads who live in gers far from town. You hire the drivers through the local tourism office, which is hard to find. I had asked around the hotels for some time, “Where can I find the tourism office?” and they kept looking at me like I was crazy. So I tracked down a travel agent, who told me it’s hidden in the post office.
My driver spoke English. He explained that there were three generations calling the two-ger complex home, including grandparents, parents and children. The children were somewhat shy, but one girl climbed atop a camel with her father for a photo.
The ger is an interesting structure. At first glance, it looked flimsy and uninviting, but upon closer inspection, I didn’t doubt that it would stand up to the harsh winter weather, and a peek inside revealed ornate furnishings neatly spaced around the walls, with a table occupying the center, and modern conveniences such as a television and a satellite dish outside.
M Bayara of Mongolia’s Juulchin Tourism noted that the nomad population is shrinking — young people are leaving rural areas to get an education and not returning to living in gers in the harsh weather conditions in rural Mongolia. Travelers on the Trans-Siberian Railway are among the few who still have an opportunity to visit this disappearing way of life.
The rail station in Ulan Bator is some distance from the center of town. It doesn’t match the grandeur of rail stations in Europe, and as Bayara explained, the station’s remoteness and somewhat plain appearance can be traced to the paranoid, no- frills influence of the Soviet Union during World War II and the communist ways of the area until 1992.
The train quickly gained elevation as it left Ulan Bator The view outside was of rolling hills and snow-covered mountains in the distance. A horseback rider came into view but was passed by the speed of the train — averaging 40 to 45 mph — before a camera could be pointed and the shutter released.
The forest land became monotonous except for an occasional cemetery plot nestled in the trees. The burial grounds are ornate, and I wondered what stories could be told about the people buried there and the people who visited the sites.
To pass time, passengers played games involving the speed of the train. Each village has a station, and a station master stands outside as the train goes by. The task is to spot the station in time to get the station master in a picture frame. The game goes on.
Villages seen out the window are straight out of “Doctor Zhivago.” The brown wooden cottages with blue or green shutters seem woefully inadequate to stand up to the harsh Siberian winter.
The quaintness of some of the small towns has been spoiled by drab, cement-block buildings built during the Soviet era. They’re as out of place in the surroundings as a Saks Fifth Avenue store would be.
Former trading post
In contrast, Irkutsk, one of the largest cities in Siberia and the gateway to Lake Baikal, is filled with an ecletic mix of architecture from its history as a trading post.
If you’re limited to one stop while riding the Trans-Siberian Railway, Lake Baikal is hard to beat. And while there are better times to see all of the sights of Lake Baikal than when I was there in early May (because the season hasn’t begun and the tourists have yet to arrive), the lake itself is enough of a draw — the world’s deepest at 5,370 feet, it also is the largest body of fresh water, with more water than the five Great Lakes in the United States combined.
An excursion on a glass bottom boat is unsettling in that as the boat moves away from the pier, the bottom is visible for a time, and then all of a sudden, there is nothing below but cold, dark- blue water.
It made a return trip to the London Pub all the more inviting. The two young Russian bartenders, Sergei Belitsin and Denis Tascaev, spoke English and were eager for conversation — and made a mean vodka tonic. For a time, it could have been London, New York or Rome — almost any place but Irkutsk, Siberia.
Back home, after I’d healed and could think clearly again, I thought I’d had enough of the Trans-Siberian Railway. But as time passed, thoughts of completing the run from Irkutsk to Moscow became hard to shake.
Next time, the London Pub will be my first stop.
Irv Moss: 303-954-1296 or imoss@denverpost.com
Trans-Siberian Railway Insider’s Guide
GET THERE: The outer reaches of the Trans-Siberian Railway system are Moscow on the west, Vladivostok on the east and Beijing on the south. I picked Ulan Bator after meeting with members of the Denver-Ulan Bator Sister Cities group () and finding reasonable airfares between Denver and Moscow round-trip and then a one-way Moscow-Ulan Bator ticket. The total cost was under $2,000. United Airlines flies from Denver International Airport (DEN) to Moscow (MOW) with one stop starting at $1,223 and American Airlines, Delta, Iberia, KLM and United fly with two stops starting at $883.
The train: Remember, the TSR doesn’t offer the equivalent of a Eurail pass that allows off-and-on privileges. For example, a passenger wanting to stop at Irkutsk for a side trip to Lake Baikal must purchase a ticket to Irkutsk and then make a new reservation to continue to Moscow. My ticket from Ulan Bator to Moscow was $130 with the exchange rate at the time.
Visas: U.S. citizens do not need a visa for a visit to Mongolia that doesn’t exceed three months. Russia and China are a different story. Russia requires you to apply for an “invitation” for a visa; if you’re going to be staying in Moscow at the beginning or end of your trip, your hotel or hostel will often issue an invitation for free. If not, there are a bunch of companies online that will do it for a fee, and they are relatively hassle-free; the one connected to the Trans-Siberian Railway site is . Getting a visa from China is another story; start with the embassy: . Apply early.
Traveling tips: Make the trip with one small suitcase. There’s no fashion show on board — jeans and casual shirts are fine. There are a lot of stairs to climb at stations and in rural areas. Don’t count on elevators or escalators. Usually there are a few locals on the platform who will transport the luggage for 50 rubles, about $2.
Also check your medical insurance to see what’s covered on an overseas trip, and supplement accordingly.
Pack list: A good first-aid kit is a must. If you do cut yourself, keep abrasions well covered (I speak from experience!). Wet wipes are a good idea for impromptu bathing. Instant food and beverages can be purchased on the platforms, but if you have favorites, tuck them into your suitcase here. A book lamp or small flashlight will be appreciated on the dark train.
Best time to go: Early May is a gamble on the weather and before some of the side attractions are open. The crowds are down, but overall late May to early September provides a more desirable climate, but it’s the peak season, and therefore more crowded.
Dine: Don’t pass up the chance for Arctic cisco, a salmon-like fish and specialty of Lake Baikal. It was served in the restaurant at Hotel Legenda Baikal and it was excellent. The dinner was under $20. The Cafe Pushkin (Tverskoy bulvar 26A, 8 (095) 229-55-90) in Moscow also rated highly. A salmon or beef stroganoff dinner was about $45.
Things to do: In Ulan Bator, hire a driver for a trip into the countryside (about $40), and specify interest in visiting a nomad family. Attending a performance of The National Song and Dance Ensemble is also time well spent.
More info: M Bayara at Juulchin Tourism of Mongolia ( bayara@juulchin.com) and Bazragch Enkhee (gobitour@yahoo.com) in Ulan Bator are excellent sources of information and scheduling. Also check out and .
Irv Moss, The Denver Post
What to expect aboard the train
A trip on the Trans-Siberian Railway can best be described by linking its history with a description of the train and what it feels like to be on it, along with the people who ride it and run it.
THE HISTORY
The Trans-Siberian Railway was built from 1891 to 1916, linking Moscow with Vladivostok, after Czar Alexander III came up with the project in 1886. The Trans-Mongolian and Trans-Manchurian lines were connected later. The Trans- Mongolian line roughly follows the tea-trade route merchants followed in bringing their wares to Russia, traveling from Moscow to Beijing, through Ulan Bator, Mongolia. The Trans-Manchurian runs through Siberia and Manchuria to Beijing.
THE TRAIN
Let’s be clear from the start: The Trans-Siberian Railway isn’t the Orient Express of Agatha Christie ilk. Don’t expect to pass detective Hercule Poirot on the way to a dining car filled with white linen-clad tables. But if you’re a true train buff, this might be one of the must-do trips.
There are a lot of different trains on the system. The number of the train tells you a lot about it. For instance, the lower the number, the faster it goes, the more expensive it is and the more comfortable it is. Numbers 1-50 or so are the best trains. You don’t ride the ones in the 900s; those are stock or cargo trains.
Travelers should be ready for the most basic of accommodations. On the regular trains, there are no showers, only sinks and toilets at the ends of the carriages (some trains have private bathrooms), and you want to be sure that you have booked on a train that offers a dining car because not all of them do. The class you book will determine whether you share a compartment, as well.
First class (SV) offers two-person and four-person compartments, with sofas that convert to beds. There aren’t as many two-person compartments, so if you’re booking May-September, they run out quickly. Second class (kupe) has four bunks, with the two lower bunks being your shared seating during the day. Third class (platzkart) is open births, with what look like picnic tables for beds. Passengers on the public trains sleep in their clothes, although actually getting sleep is not easy — it’s noisy and bumpy.
The compartment was equipped with bedding in a plastic bag and a small bag of ground coffee. A station at the end of the car had cups and boiling hot water in a tank (called a samovar, it’s wood-fueled, and kept full by the attendants). Savvy travelers bring jars to fill with hot water to improvise a bath; some people bring hot chocolate mix and ramen or other instant food. Use bottled water to brush your teeth.
Dining cars can be a pleasant retreat. The menus are in Russian, although some servers speak limited English. I couldn’t figure out the menu but was able to work out “cheese sandwich” and “soda,” so that’s what I ate. It was delicious.
Larger tour operators, such as the Smithsonian, have added more luxurious and better equipped trains, but at a much higher cost.
THE EXPERIENCE
I started in Ulan Bator because I thought eight days on the train was going to be too long — there’s a reason Siberia has long been the butt of isolation jokes. You spend a lot of time on the train looking at land passing by.
Ulan Bator is very clean, but it’s been been put together kind of haphazardly. As I was walking down a sidewalk to go to the center of town, all of a sudden the sidewalk would just end or fall down a few feet. The people I talked to, like M Bayara at Juulchin Tourism in Mongolia, said that the further these areas get from communist rule, the smarter they get about improvements, but it’s slow.
The weather conditions in May were pleasant. In April, the daytime averages 46 F and the average low is 21 F. Prepare for the colder temps.
Ultimately, this is an adventure. The first couple of days, I felt like, “Oh, my God, what am I doing here?” Once I settled into it, though, I realized it was the trip of a lifetime.
My main advice would be to allow a lot of time to get from place to place, because when you can’t speak the language, it takes a while to figure things out. If you cut it too close time-wise, there’s a lot of room for error. You just have to relax and expect problems.
If you’re looking to be pampered on a vacation, Hawaii is probably a better choice. But if you do this one, you should hang the ticket on a wall as a trophy.
THE PEOPLE
The rail system serves mostly grassroots travelers on the long journey from Vladivostok to Moscow or Ulan Bator in order to cut off the vast expanses of eastern Siberia. They’re often workers, families visiting relatives or people who make their living selling wares from one station to the next. I saw a wrestling troupe on its way to a tournament.
There were about 200 to 300 passengers on my train, plus several attendants, or provodnitsas (female) and provodniks (male) on each car. Very few people spoke English, but all were friendly, most just nodding as we passed. There were only three or four other Americans on my car.
The attendants were a little gruff, but they helpfully notified obvious foreigners like me about exit stations (they check your ticket when you get on).
You also want to get good at sign language for things like locking your compartment, because the attendant must lock it for you when you go to the dining car. Mostly it’s safe, but you don’t want to leave stuff unattended.
Irv Moss
