The long train

In Irkutsk we got on the train and didn't get off for three days.

It was a lovely journey, really. I believe I've mentioned before that I find it very relaxing to lie down on a sleeper bed and watch the world pass by. We were served a single free meal at the very beginning, some very acceptable crepes with jam. Unlike the last train, we had no English speakers in our carriage and so spent much of the time in silence or talking to each other. My Russian never got particularly conversational, so I didn't want to go through the stress of almost understanding social interactions over and over. But that seemed to suit the Russians fine.

It's easy and enjoyable to slip in and out of sleep on the rails, and we all wrecked any kind of 24-hour sleep cycle we might have had. The beds were very comfortable, especially coming off of six weeks in Asia. Four to a compartment, with space for baggage above and below. You're provided with sheets and small towel and left totally unbothered by the staff for the duration.

The restaurant car, present for the first time now that we were properly on the Siberian route, served the expected fare. Thanks to a strong dollar we ate there more than we expected. They frowned upon too much loitering at first, but after the hours slid by we were allowed to sit and play Chinese chess for some time. I think Auberon won almost every game, even though we're pretty well matched. Like I said, the train puts me in a nice stupor.

I'd gotten to see great rivers and lakes on the first train leg. This time it was almost entirely forest, punctuated with villages and open fields. Slowly the architecture changed from the hardier log cabins of the eastern regions to tin-roofed buildings and small farms, sometimes with a church spire poking out above. At night, since we were constantly traveling west, the sunset stretched out into twilights almost eerie in their length. Perhaps my favorite view was seeing a copse of birch trees, denuded somehow, nearly the same color as the fading sky and with a small campfire adding a splash of orange in between them.

In what seemed like nothing near 53 hours, we had arrived at Yekaterinburg.

Pictured: Yekaterinburg in the morning light and the author several days after last seeing a shower.