Siberia

Day 13: Omsk (RUS) – Krasnoyarsk (RUS). As the first light of day illuminated our compartment, I awoke from a deep and restful sleep. Clearing the ice and condensation from the inside of the carriage window I gazed out on the changing scene before me. No more were the dense forests we encountered on the western stages of our journey – the landscape had been replaced by a barren wilderness encased in a blanket of snow. For this was the inhospitable Baraba Steppe – coarse reeds and sedge concealed swamps, peat bogs and rare patches of firm ground.

The train progressed relentlessly, heading generally East-South-East and devouring two more time zones in the process.

As we crossed the border between the principalities of Sverdlovskaya and Tyumenskaya we reached another notable milestone in our epic journey. “Welcome to the world of Dr Zhivago”, I said to Karen. For we had now entered the vast tract of land know as 'Siberia'. Karen smiled but kept here eyes fixed on the stunning scenery that lay on the outside of our frozen carriage window.

“Zazdorovje, Prost, Salut, Cheers”, we all said in unison. It didn't seem to matter what language we spoke, somehow, miraculously we seemed to be communicating. Our Russian cabin-mates; Tania and Albert had invited us for a drink and so there we were, sat in the dining car of the Trans-Siberian Express, telling tales, exchanging photographs and drinking vodka. It felt very surreal; as Rihanna blared from the jukebox and we laughed at unfunny jokes - for a moment, it felt like we were back at home in the Waggon & Horses. Except for the fact that nobody spoke English... And we were travelling on a train at 50mph... And outside it resembled Santa's Grotto... And nobody mentioned murkins... Shame!.