March 2008 Archives
There was an EMC lorry stationary on the A1 today. No idea why but it was still there four hours later. Obviously I'm concerned for the welfare of the driver but as far as I was concerned it was a family affair and we all got our phones out and recorded the rare event.
We failed.
So we had to get off at the next junction and took lots more pics. Go back and take pictures at closer quarters. This worked a little better but wasn't ideal. Pics from the opposite carriageway on the way back were better.
Four cameras. Lots of pics.
Whoa...... I forgot to say, I only took two of these. Emily and Bryony took the others... Bryony took the first one... The best one.
We failed.
So we had to get off at the next junction and took lots more pics. Go back and take pictures at closer quarters. This worked a little better but wasn't ideal. Pics from the opposite carriageway on the way back were better.
Four cameras. Lots of pics.
Whoa...... I forgot to say, I only took two of these. Emily and Bryony took the others... Bryony took the first one... The best one.
This place (assignment) for me was photograph-heaven. Urban decay is my thing. I agree that my 'heaven' coincides with the residents' hell. Yes, I am embarrassed about that. I didn't feel like a voyeur. But I was. People had lived and worked here. And had a life and then they had to leave, quickly. These pictures are cliched.
It was also wonderful to be so free somewhere that was potentially so dangerous (at the time this _was_ something to celebrate). So far away from the politically-correct molly-coddling bullshit that we are forced to endure in the UK. In England you can't even get to be next to the stones at Stonehenge.
It appeared that the town was designed without cars in mind. I imagine that in Soviet-era 1980s that people in this town were unlikely to be able to afford cars, and would also potentially not need them. This was a self-contained town for which all employment was at the nuclear plant 3km down the road. I imagine the town was designed around an integrated public transport system. This isn't nostalgia for Soviet-era Ukraine, it is pragmatism. Sort of. Maybe a little misplaced, but I hope that you know what I mean.
Being able to roam free here reminded me of doing the same at Chichen Itza in Mexico. Free. There, one of the pyramids was forbidden to climb, so in front of the steps was a simple barrier made of sticks that was respected. No need for anything else.
We did see a wild looking Alsatian-style dog. We all stayed well clear of it. Pretty much the only warnings we'd had were: stay away from animals, and stay on the paths.
Lunch, as you will see in the pictures, was included in the tour and was a wonderful Ukrainian three-course affair served in the "State Enterprise Agency of Information, International Co-operation and Development. Chernobyl Interinform Agency". This was a sort of admin building in which there was a restaurant with waitress service. The table / started was all laid out when we arrived. It was a lovely meal and very well organized.
It was a wonderful end to an incredible day.
The entrance hall of the sports centre.
It was also wonderful to be so free somewhere that was potentially so dangerous (at the time this _was_ something to celebrate). So far away from the politically-correct molly-coddling bullshit that we are forced to endure in the UK. In England you can't even get to be next to the stones at Stonehenge.
It appeared that the town was designed without cars in mind. I imagine that in Soviet-era 1980s that people in this town were unlikely to be able to afford cars, and would also potentially not need them. This was a self-contained town for which all employment was at the nuclear plant 3km down the road. I imagine the town was designed around an integrated public transport system. This isn't nostalgia for Soviet-era Ukraine, it is pragmatism. Sort of. Maybe a little misplaced, but I hope that you know what I mean.
Being able to roam free here reminded me of doing the same at Chichen Itza in Mexico. Free. There, one of the pyramids was forbidden to climb, so in front of the steps was a simple barrier made of sticks that was respected. No need for anything else.
We did see a wild looking Alsatian-style dog. We all stayed well clear of it. Pretty much the only warnings we'd had were: stay away from animals, and stay on the paths.
Lunch, as you will see in the pictures, was included in the tour and was a wonderful Ukrainian three-course affair served in the "State Enterprise Agency of Information, International Co-operation and Development. Chernobyl Interinform Agency". This was a sort of admin building in which there was a restaurant with waitress service. The table / started was all laid out when we arrived. It was a lovely meal and very well organized.
It was a wonderful end to an incredible day.
The entrance hall of the sports centre.Lecture theatre in the sports centre.
Athlete pictures in the sports hall.
The reading on the grass verge in the 'amusement park' is 10x the value in the air at the reactor site.
Transliterate and you get 'Restoran' = restaurant.
Swimming pool. Note the wave representation on the roof, and the beautiful window on the left.
The meal afterwards all laid out ready.
Note the symbol over the entrance.
A hotel room. Not en-suite. Carpet on the floor. Slippers on the floor. Note the glasses.
This the hotel. We were able to go onto the roof.
The lobby of the hotel.
The lobby of the hotel.A hotel room. Not en-suite. Carpet on the floor. Slippers on the floor. Note the glasses. The tiles were pink. The ladies loo was next door and the tiles in there were blue. Very subversive.
The view from the roof of the hotel. The building at the end of the curved covered walkway is the sports centre.
On the horizon, right in the middle of the picture, is the nuclear plant.
If you transliterate the text, you get 'etag'. Which to all intents and purposes is 'floor' [as in 'level'] in French.
This is the 4th floor of the hotel.
This is the 4th floor of the hotel.
A document in the hotel lobby, dated 1985.
The town of Chernobyl is 18km from the plant. Prypiat is 3km from the plant. It housed 50,00 people and was abandoned within hours (days?) of the explosion.
It is as was. There has been some looting and destruction, but it is simply a crumbling town that is slowly falling to pieces.
It is a Soviet town built around the main avenue, Lenin Avenue, that leads to the town square. It is lined with housing blocks. We weren't allowed into the housing blocks.
We had about 2 hours here and had free reign to go anywhere with our guide. There was no health and safety regulations. We went into the hotel, theatre, swimming pool, sports centre etc.
In the hotel, there were beds, slippers, drinking glasses... In the lobby there were documents and bills... In the theatre there were props and painted boards from performances... In the sports centre there were photographs on the walls, trainers, scoreboards...
I wasn't expecting to be able ot go into any of the buildings... ut we could go anywhere. First stop was the roof terrace of the hotel from which you could get a sense of the size of the town, and see in the distance, the nuclear plant.
People were not allowed to take anything in case it was radioactive.
As you will see from the first picture, the town was founded in 1970. It was abandoned in 1986.
We drove there from the nuclear plant and stopped at the town sign. The guide pointed out (in the distance) the "children's Summer camp" as it was called in Soviet times. He then went on to say that it was in fact an ICBM missile site.
He also pointed the piles of radioactive earth at the side of the road that were one of the first attempts to clean up the site (move radioactive earth and dump it a few miles away).
[This is an initial set of pictures... there are more to come]
It is as was. There has been some looting and destruction, but it is simply a crumbling town that is slowly falling to pieces.
It is a Soviet town built around the main avenue, Lenin Avenue, that leads to the town square. It is lined with housing blocks. We weren't allowed into the housing blocks.
We had about 2 hours here and had free reign to go anywhere with our guide. There was no health and safety regulations. We went into the hotel, theatre, swimming pool, sports centre etc.
In the hotel, there were beds, slippers, drinking glasses... In the lobby there were documents and bills... In the theatre there were props and painted boards from performances... In the sports centre there were photographs on the walls, trainers, scoreboards...
I wasn't expecting to be able ot go into any of the buildings... ut we could go anywhere. First stop was the roof terrace of the hotel from which you could get a sense of the size of the town, and see in the distance, the nuclear plant.
People were not allowed to take anything in case it was radioactive.
As you will see from the first picture, the town was founded in 1970. It was abandoned in 1986.
We drove there from the nuclear plant and stopped at the town sign. The guide pointed out (in the distance) the "children's Summer camp" as it was called in Soviet times. He then went on to say that it was in fact an ICBM missile site.
He also pointed the piles of radioactive earth at the side of the road that were one of the first attempts to clean up the site (move radioactive earth and dump it a few miles away).
[This is an initial set of pictures... there are more to come]
These are the rest of the pictures of the plant and surrounding areas. We stopped at various points on the approach to the plant - there didn't seem to be many restrictions as to where we could go or what we could do. We couldn't photograph the control buildings (but see pictures of them below anyway).
The radiation readings show the difference between the air and the ground.
There is a sort of 'visitor centre' in which a very knowledgeable woman described (with the aid of an amazing model) what had happened. And why. And what they were doing about it. She acknowledged that all they were doing was containing the reactor and it's material. They were unable to 'do' anything else. Current work was concerned with 'enhancing' the existing sarcophagus that was very hastily built just after the accident with little time for niceties like design or thoughts of longevity - it was built to as quickly as possible contain the reactor core that was in fact exposed to the atmosphere after the accident. They reckoned at the time that it had a life of 25 years (it was built in 1986). The enhancements are designed to extend its life until they can build something better.
Basically, they are 'propping' up the existing framework that was initially built on the existing containment building walls, which are now, predictably, collapsing under the weight.
In the end, we were 100m from the reactor building.
From the pictures you can see half-finished building works. When the reactor blew, they were in the process of building more reactors. They immediately stopped and the cranes are there as they were when the work stopped. Same is true for the unfinished cooling towers.
The 'river' in the picture is in fact a channel for cooling water. Because of the residual heat of the remaining reactors, the first time that the water froze was last year.
It is also sometimes hard to remember that the whole site of umpteen nuclear reactors was in fact here just to generate electricity. So, when you see forests and forests of pylons and very heavy-duty electrical switchgear, it comes as a bit of a surprise that in fact this is (was) merely for generating electricity.
The black statue in front of the control building is of Prometheus, the Greek god who stole fire from Zeus and gave it to mortals for their use.
This is from the road outside the visitor centre, which as you can see doesn't show any of the building work that you see in the picture above.
The radiation readings show the difference between the air and the ground.
There is a sort of 'visitor centre' in which a very knowledgeable woman described (with the aid of an amazing model) what had happened. And why. And what they were doing about it. She acknowledged that all they were doing was containing the reactor and it's material. They were unable to 'do' anything else. Current work was concerned with 'enhancing' the existing sarcophagus that was very hastily built just after the accident with little time for niceties like design or thoughts of longevity - it was built to as quickly as possible contain the reactor core that was in fact exposed to the atmosphere after the accident. They reckoned at the time that it had a life of 25 years (it was built in 1986). The enhancements are designed to extend its life until they can build something better.
Basically, they are 'propping' up the existing framework that was initially built on the existing containment building walls, which are now, predictably, collapsing under the weight.
In the end, we were 100m from the reactor building.
From the pictures you can see half-finished building works. When the reactor blew, they were in the process of building more reactors. They immediately stopped and the cranes are there as they were when the work stopped. Same is true for the unfinished cooling towers.
The 'river' in the picture is in fact a channel for cooling water. Because of the residual heat of the remaining reactors, the first time that the water froze was last year.
It is also sometimes hard to remember that the whole site of umpteen nuclear reactors was in fact here just to generate electricity. So, when you see forests and forests of pylons and very heavy-duty electrical switchgear, it comes as a bit of a surprise that in fact this is (was) merely for generating electricity.
The black statue in front of the control building is of Prometheus, the Greek god who stole fire from Zeus and gave it to mortals for their use.
This is a model of the reactor building as it is now, encased in the sarcophagus. The model has been 'opened up' to show the interior of the building, The 'top' of the model you see here is the sarcophagus. The explosion removed the roof of the containment building.
This is the model of the core that exploded. The 'lid' of the reactor blew off and landed sideways as you can see here. The 'hair' is supposed to represent the tubes through which the fuel rods, and control rods, were inserted and removed.
Another place we were expressly forbidden to take pictures was from the window of the 'visitor centre' as it afforded the best, elevated, view of the reactor building and the sarcophagus building work.
This my picture from the window showing the sarcophagus building work.
This my picture from the window showing the sarcophagus building work.
This is from the road outside the visitor centre, which as you can see doesn't show any of the building work that you see in the picture above.
It is a very sad day that we have to say farewell to both Arthur C Clarke and John Hewer. Or is that HAL and Captain Birdseye?
Either way, we have lost two massive icons of 20th C society. As the Guardia puts it:
"The actor John Hewer, who has died aged 86, embodied Captain Birdseye, the face of fish fingers, in a series of television commercials from 1967 to 1998. He outlived brand-personalities such as the Milky Bar Kid and the Honey Monster, and came 65th in the Channel 4 poll of the 100 greatest TV adverts in 2000. Seventeen years earlier he had done rather better when he was voted "the second most recognised captain in the world", having been pipped to the post by Captain Cook.
"Giant among imaginative promoters of the ideas of interplanetary travel, the colonising by man of nearby planets and the urgent need for peaceful exploration of outer space, Sir Arthur C Clarke, who has died aged 90, was pre-eminent because of his hard and accurate predictions of the detailed technologies of spaceflight and of the use of near-earth space for global communications."
Two colossi in one day. Think deeply about why you are here.
Either way, we have lost two massive icons of 20th C society. As the Guardia puts it:
"The actor John Hewer, who has died aged 86, embodied Captain Birdseye, the face of fish fingers, in a series of television commercials from 1967 to 1998. He outlived brand-personalities such as the Milky Bar Kid and the Honey Monster, and came 65th in the Channel 4 poll of the 100 greatest TV adverts in 2000. Seventeen years earlier he had done rather better when he was voted "the second most recognised captain in the world", having been pipped to the post by Captain Cook.
"Giant among imaginative promoters of the ideas of interplanetary travel, the colonising by man of nearby planets and the urgent need for peaceful exploration of outer space, Sir Arthur C Clarke, who has died aged 90, was pre-eminent because of his hard and accurate predictions of the detailed technologies of spaceflight and of the use of near-earth space for global communications."
Two colossi in one day. Think deeply about why you are here.
Coming to Chernobyl was not actually part of my plans for this trip. The trip was about sleepers, and couchsurfing, and ... stuff.
I'm here simply because I saw on a travel website, by accident, that there were Chernobyl tours. My membership of this tour was $180. Naively I didn't even know that Chernobyl was in Ukraine. Sorry. The plant is 5km from the Russian border.
To get to this point we had to pass the 10 and 5km exclusion zone military checkpoints. We were all getting excited. Yes, this was all sorts of disasters rolled into one, and the world, all of it, was affected, but I was excited to be here. I never expected to be here. To get here. But here I am.
Our guide was an amazing bloke. He was local, friendly, personable and knowledgeable. These are the first views we had of the nuclear plants. It was industrially beautiful and we were all moved.
The plant in the first picture is THE reactor (number four) that exploded in 1986. The iconic red / white banded tower faded hence isn't coloured anymore...
To quote Wikipedia: "The"Chernobyl disaster", reactor accident at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant, or simply "Chernobyl", was the worst nuclear power plant accident in history and the only instance so far of level 7 on the International Nuclear Event Scale, resulting in a severe nuclear meltdown. On 26 April 1986 at 01:23:40 a.m. (UTC+3) reactor number four at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant located in the Soviet Union near Pripyat in Ukraine exploded. Further explosions and the resulting fire sent a plume of highly radioactive fallout into the atmosphere and over an extensive geographical area.".
I'm here simply because I saw on a travel website, by accident, that there were Chernobyl tours. My membership of this tour was $180. Naively I didn't even know that Chernobyl was in Ukraine. Sorry. The plant is 5km from the Russian border.
To get to this point we had to pass the 10 and 5km exclusion zone military checkpoints. We were all getting excited. Yes, this was all sorts of disasters rolled into one, and the world, all of it, was affected, but I was excited to be here. I never expected to be here. To get here. But here I am.
Our guide was an amazing bloke. He was local, friendly, personable and knowledgeable. These are the first views we had of the nuclear plants. It was industrially beautiful and we were all moved.
The plant in the first picture is THE reactor (number four) that exploded in 1986. The iconic red / white banded tower faded hence isn't coloured anymore...
To quote Wikipedia: "The"Chernobyl disaster", reactor accident at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant, or simply "Chernobyl", was the worst nuclear power plant accident in history and the only instance so far of level 7 on the International Nuclear Event Scale, resulting in a severe nuclear meltdown. On 26 April 1986 at 01:23:40 a.m. (UTC+3) reactor number four at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant located in the Soviet Union near Pripyat in Ukraine exploded. Further explosions and the resulting fire sent a plume of highly radioactive fallout into the atmosphere and over an extensive geographical area.".
To quote me below: "Food was hot. Reminded me a bit of a cross between potato ravioli and gnochi, but cooked in oil with onions.".
Article in the paper largely about Russian and Ukrainian food... to quote the article "... What is ravioli, in essence, what are varenniki [Ukrainian dumplings, filled and boiled]? They are precisely the same. Dishes are dishes. It's not the politicians who come up with them. It's ordinary people who come up with food..."
Great. I knew what I was eating.
Article in the paper largely about Russian and Ukrainian food... to quote the article "... What is ravioli, in essence, what are varenniki [Ukrainian dumplings, filled and boiled]? They are precisely the same. Dishes are dishes. It's not the politicians who come up with them. It's ordinary people who come up with food..."
Great. I knew what I was eating.
The town of Chernobyl is inside the 30km exclusion zone but quite a long way from the nuclear plant (18km). It is deserted but for the fact that it is the dormitory town for the several hundred people who still work at the plant - 'decommissioning' it.
There is a shop which seems to sell one of everything, even toys like dolls.
The town is a two hour mini-bus ride from Kiev. I was part of a small group with a guide and driver. It was all organised in advance and we had a permit that had our names and passport numbers and so on. At each exclusion zone checkpoint (30km, 10km and 5km) the guards had to match the permit names with our passports.
The first checkpoint we came to, at 30km obviously had lots of DANGER and RADIATION signs. Armed military police. Weird and unusual but not as scary or as 'high security' as I'd expected. Yes, there were barriers and so on, but I was expecting something much more 'impassable'.
The transition from outside the zone to inside was quite marked. Inside was abandoned Soviet-era and outside was 'modern Ukraine'. Inside the zone, nothing was maintained obviously and all was just left to decay and was largely as it was when the accident happened 22 years ago.
There were signs at the side of the road for picnic spots, lots and lots of electricity pylons. Lots of rivers and forests. Crumbling bus shelters. Derelict farms and light-industrial units.
Coming into the town was a beautiful concrete sign for the town of Chernobyl glorifying the 'reason' for the town - nuclear power. Didn't manage to get a pic.
Pipes across the road. Cafe / bar in the town centre opposite a statue of Lenin. No people about.
Signs warning you that there are children playing.
There is a shop which seems to sell one of everything, even toys like dolls.
The town is a two hour mini-bus ride from Kiev. I was part of a small group with a guide and driver. It was all organised in advance and we had a permit that had our names and passport numbers and so on. At each exclusion zone checkpoint (30km, 10km and 5km) the guards had to match the permit names with our passports.
The first checkpoint we came to, at 30km obviously had lots of DANGER and RADIATION signs. Armed military police. Weird and unusual but not as scary or as 'high security' as I'd expected. Yes, there were barriers and so on, but I was expecting something much more 'impassable'.
The transition from outside the zone to inside was quite marked. Inside was abandoned Soviet-era and outside was 'modern Ukraine'. Inside the zone, nothing was maintained obviously and all was just left to decay and was largely as it was when the accident happened 22 years ago.
There were signs at the side of the road for picnic spots, lots and lots of electricity pylons. Lots of rivers and forests. Crumbling bus shelters. Derelict farms and light-industrial units.
Coming into the town was a beautiful concrete sign for the town of Chernobyl glorifying the 'reason' for the town - nuclear power. Didn't manage to get a pic.
Pipes across the road. Cafe / bar in the town centre opposite a statue of Lenin. No people about.
Signs warning you that there are children playing.
No such thing as coincidence...
In the The Guardian this weekend is a big article about using social networking sites s a means of enhancing / changing travel. Couchsurfing.com features heavily.
In the The Guardian this weekend is a big article about using social networking sites s a means of enhancing / changing travel. Couchsurfing.com features heavily.
Communal breakfast that involved a mountain of scrambled egg and local sausage. Oddly vodka doesn't seem to generate a hangover. Purity and simplicity of it I suppose. I probably made that up though.
I got the mini-bus into Kiev as directed - I had to wait for a specific numbered bus. I was supposed to get off at a specific Metro station but overshot by a long way. I realised I was going badly wrong when the number of passengers thinned out and we crossed the river. So I got off and crossed the road and got a bus back in the opoposite direction and found a Metro station and paid my 50 kopecks (5p) for a blue plastic Metro token with which I could travel any distance (stay on the Metro all day in fact, quite legally).
When you go through the ticket barrier, the machine takes your token and lets you through. So when you are passed that point, you have no ticket or any means of indicating that you've paid. Very civilized.
I was aiming for the monastic district so when I got out of the Metro I asked a woman where it was and she said I needed to get another mini-bus. Bugger, I wanted to walk. On the bus I asked more women if I was on the right bus. They said no I wasn't but they weren't sure so they engaged the rest of the bus in the discussion. Turns out that by the time they had decided I was in fact in the right place, I was there and had to get off.
I went ot the monastery and then onto the Museum of the Great Patriotic War. High up on a hill overlooking the city. The pinnacle of which is the giant aluminium status.
It was bitterly cold and blowing a gale.
The museum has various outdoor parts of it that are basically tank parks. Cost of entry to the parks is higher if you have a camera (visible). Took me ages to understand that yes, cameras were allowed, but it was more money. Still very cheap to get in though.
The museum was hugely impressive and beautifully put together. Hugely informative and well structured.
Popped into the Magelan again on the way back.
Sign on the door, in symbol form, says... no skating; photography; cycling... etc... and no guns.
Transliteration became crucial, especially on the Metro. I now had a transliteration guide and it's amazing how much you can read. A significant number of words are in 'English' once you transliterate. Or in 'German'. Potato transliterated is kartofeln.
Back via Independence Square. Think Orange Revolution.
Independence Square
I got the mini-bus into Kiev as directed - I had to wait for a specific numbered bus. I was supposed to get off at a specific Metro station but overshot by a long way. I realised I was going badly wrong when the number of passengers thinned out and we crossed the river. So I got off and crossed the road and got a bus back in the opoposite direction and found a Metro station and paid my 50 kopecks (5p) for a blue plastic Metro token with which I could travel any distance (stay on the Metro all day in fact, quite legally).
When you go through the ticket barrier, the machine takes your token and lets you through. So when you are passed that point, you have no ticket or any means of indicating that you've paid. Very civilized.
I was aiming for the monastic district so when I got out of the Metro I asked a woman where it was and she said I needed to get another mini-bus. Bugger, I wanted to walk. On the bus I asked more women if I was on the right bus. They said no I wasn't but they weren't sure so they engaged the rest of the bus in the discussion. Turns out that by the time they had decided I was in fact in the right place, I was there and had to get off.
I went ot the monastery and then onto the Museum of the Great Patriotic War. High up on a hill overlooking the city. The pinnacle of which is the giant aluminium status.
It was bitterly cold and blowing a gale.
The museum has various outdoor parts of it that are basically tank parks. Cost of entry to the parks is higher if you have a camera (visible). Took me ages to understand that yes, cameras were allowed, but it was more money. Still very cheap to get in though.
The museum was hugely impressive and beautifully put together. Hugely informative and well structured.
Popped into the Magelan again on the way back.
Sign on the door, in symbol form, says... no skating; photography; cycling... etc... and no guns.
Transliteration became crucial, especially on the Metro. I now had a transliteration guide and it's amazing how much you can read. A significant number of words are in 'English' once you transliterate. Or in 'German'. Potato transliterated is kartofeln.
Back via Independence Square. Think Orange Revolution.
Independence Square
CouchSurfing is all about staying on the sofa / couch / mattress / spared bed of someone you've never met, in a foreign land, in an alien language and culture. Often somewhere urban / suburban for which you need to avail yourself of public transport.
From the website: "CouchSurfing is a worldwide network for making connections between travelers and the local communities they visit.".
It was the most fun and exciting part of the trip I think. Especially so as I completely failed to meet anyone in any of the sleeper cars I traveled in.
I joined just before my trip and so had no 'history' that made me a 'safe bet'. Still, I quickly found; communicated with; and 'booked' places to stay in Kiev and Moscow. The photos from the Moscow part of the trip I posted a few days ago. Now, after my trip, all my new friends have added their feedback to my CouchSurfing profile, and some have even vouched for me. I'm looking forward to hosting someone in Cambridge. Unfortunately, my first surfer was to have been in a few weeks time but she wanted to come at a time when I was away from home.
When I got to the flat, there were three other surfers there - remember, I wasn't expected for a day or so. Anyway, nothing was a problem and a bed was found, and the food was stretched. Yes, it was half ten but there was cooking going on (the French student couple were cooking). Well, I was still hungry after the Sushi...
The only thing to drink was vodka. Yevgeny provided good Ukrainian vodka and what is euphemistically called 'vodka light' (this phrase is on the label). Vodka is %40 and 'light' is %37.5. Hmmm. Seem pretty similar to me. I had purchased an emergency suply in the supermarket - a 500ml bottle of something whose label I liked (in the supermarket, there were three isles dedicated to vodka...).
A bottle of good Ukrainian vodka was about £2. Good beer was about 20p a bottle.
Around the dinner table was Yevgeny, his girlfriend Olga (the one with the camera in the pics), their flatmate, Roe (couch surfer from LA), Agnieszka and Clement (French couple studying on Poland) and me. You'll see in the pics how small the table was.
What struck me most was that this was based on real trust and community. Travelers sharing. Travelers who would reciprocate to some other traveler at some point in the future. Within minutes of my arrival I was given the keys to the flat and shown how to operate the locks.
At 46 I was by far the oldest. All were in their twenties. As Roe said "you sure don't act 46".
Lots of pictures of people.
The 'Point It' book is not mine but I do now have one on order. I first saw it on BoingBoing. It is just 1800 categorised photographs of objects. The idea is, if you can't say it, point at it!
From the website: "CouchSurfing is a worldwide network for making connections between travelers and the local communities they visit.".
It was the most fun and exciting part of the trip I think. Especially so as I completely failed to meet anyone in any of the sleeper cars I traveled in.
I joined just before my trip and so had no 'history' that made me a 'safe bet'. Still, I quickly found; communicated with; and 'booked' places to stay in Kiev and Moscow. The photos from the Moscow part of the trip I posted a few days ago. Now, after my trip, all my new friends have added their feedback to my CouchSurfing profile, and some have even vouched for me. I'm looking forward to hosting someone in Cambridge. Unfortunately, my first surfer was to have been in a few weeks time but she wanted to come at a time when I was away from home.
When I got to the flat, there were three other surfers there - remember, I wasn't expected for a day or so. Anyway, nothing was a problem and a bed was found, and the food was stretched. Yes, it was half ten but there was cooking going on (the French student couple were cooking). Well, I was still hungry after the Sushi...
The only thing to drink was vodka. Yevgeny provided good Ukrainian vodka and what is euphemistically called 'vodka light' (this phrase is on the label). Vodka is %40 and 'light' is %37.5. Hmmm. Seem pretty similar to me. I had purchased an emergency suply in the supermarket - a 500ml bottle of something whose label I liked (in the supermarket, there were three isles dedicated to vodka...).
A bottle of good Ukrainian vodka was about £2. Good beer was about 20p a bottle.
Around the dinner table was Yevgeny, his girlfriend Olga (the one with the camera in the pics), their flatmate, Roe (couch surfer from LA), Agnieszka and Clement (French couple studying on Poland) and me. You'll see in the pics how small the table was.
What struck me most was that this was based on real trust and community. Travelers sharing. Travelers who would reciprocate to some other traveler at some point in the future. Within minutes of my arrival I was given the keys to the flat and shown how to operate the locks.
At 46 I was by far the oldest. All were in their twenties. As Roe said "you sure don't act 46".
Lots of pictures of people.
The 'Point It' book is not mine but I do now have one on order. I first saw it on BoingBoing. It is just 1800 categorised photographs of objects. The idea is, if you can't say it, point at it!
I arrived in Kiev at about 16.30 (train was on time despite 18hr journey) and immediately sought a cash machine to get some local currency, the Hryvnia. I felt very named and exposed without it, and besides, I had to get a bus, so needed some, preferably small denomitaiton notes. I had already worked out the exchange rate from my WikiTravel printout.
Note to travelers: Always know the exchange rate of the country you are going to. And have some sort of guide for the country / city. My WikiTravel printouts were not exactly huge, but they were adequate (what I mean is, the info that they had was fantastically useful - more would have been helpful if I was staying longer). I should by rights update them with my experiences.
Lucky for me the ATM gave me a great variety of notes, which was to prove very useful. Despite having 'worked out' the exchange rate at 2.5UAH to the £ it turned out to be 10UAH to a £. Anyway, from the machine I got 500UAH, which sounded like (and looked like) a lot - £50 ($100).
My instructions were to get the 726 Marshrutka from outside the station. Hmmm. Outside the station, there were many many mini buses pretty chaotically arranged (to my eyes). Anyway, I wondered around a bit and saw where the numbers were on the little yellow (Transit van sized) buses. I couldn't see the 726 though. There weren't as far as I could tell 'bus stops' as such. While I was working out what to do / who to ask, my 'friend' from on the train appeared and asked if I needed help... Having explained he found out where the 726 went from and there it was, right in front of me.
My send instruction was to get the bus to the 'Magelan Trade Centre', and get off at the next stop. So I got on the bus and someone appeared to collect the fares. The fare was 1.5UAH (15p) - flat fare.
I managed to 'talk' to some women on the bus who helped point out the 'trade centre' when we got there after a 45 minute journey. The Magelan turned out to be a round shopping mall / centre. I got off the bus and I was on a fast dual-carriageway lined with blocks of flats. All very ordered, each one has a number. So an address of 26/2 is simply block 26, flat 2. Easy. So I trudged through the ice and snow and found block 26. Big steel door, locked. Lucky for me, a resident appeared and I floated through with them to be confronted by a friendly concierge woman. I showed her my printout with my hosts name... she waved me through and pointed out flat 2.
I rang and rang the door bell and there was no reply. So I called Yevgeny's mobile. Turns out (a) he wasn't expecting me for a few days and (b) he wouldn't be home from work for four hours. Oh dear (fuck). He suggested I went to the Magelan. So I did. It's open until 23.00.
I made a decision to dump my bag outside the flat, which was behind several doors so was safe-ish. I certainly wasn't going to lug it around the shopping centre.
Leaving the building I 'explained' in sign language to the concierge that I had a four hour wait. She very kindly offered me to sit in her cosy room and watch her TV. I declined gracefully.
I used my time in the Magelan to get an hour in a net cafe and have a meal, and of course browse the fantastic supermarket (a cultural highlight of any trip abroad). All quite inexpensive. CDs in the book/music shop were about very cheap. Average price was £4 and the most expensive I saw was £6. UK chart CDs were about £4 and this in a reputable looking shop.
The meal was <blush> Sushi - I picked a restaurant that had pictures on the menu. The chefs were Asian at least.
Everyone smokes here, especially the women.
Many women in fur coats. Have to assume they are real. And needed.
A lot of people in the resto are drinking 'brandy' (I think - well, it looks like brandy) and coffee as an aperitif. The 'brandy' comes with a plate of lemon slices.
Drifted back to the flat at gone 10.
My bag had gone!!
Olga had rescued it... And left this wonderful note on the floor where it was. A more accurate picture of what was where would not be possible.
Note to travelers: Always know the exchange rate of the country you are going to. And have some sort of guide for the country / city. My WikiTravel printouts were not exactly huge, but they were adequate (what I mean is, the info that they had was fantastically useful - more would have been helpful if I was staying longer). I should by rights update them with my experiences.
Lucky for me the ATM gave me a great variety of notes, which was to prove very useful. Despite having 'worked out' the exchange rate at 2.5UAH to the £ it turned out to be 10UAH to a £. Anyway, from the machine I got 500UAH, which sounded like (and looked like) a lot - £50 ($100).
My instructions were to get the 726 Marshrutka from outside the station. Hmmm. Outside the station, there were many many mini buses pretty chaotically arranged (to my eyes). Anyway, I wondered around a bit and saw where the numbers were on the little yellow (Transit van sized) buses. I couldn't see the 726 though. There weren't as far as I could tell 'bus stops' as such. While I was working out what to do / who to ask, my 'friend' from on the train appeared and asked if I needed help... Having explained he found out where the 726 went from and there it was, right in front of me.
My send instruction was to get the bus to the 'Magelan Trade Centre', and get off at the next stop. So I got on the bus and someone appeared to collect the fares. The fare was 1.5UAH (15p) - flat fare.
I managed to 'talk' to some women on the bus who helped point out the 'trade centre' when we got there after a 45 minute journey. The Magelan turned out to be a round shopping mall / centre. I got off the bus and I was on a fast dual-carriageway lined with blocks of flats. All very ordered, each one has a number. So an address of 26/2 is simply block 26, flat 2. Easy. So I trudged through the ice and snow and found block 26. Big steel door, locked. Lucky for me, a resident appeared and I floated through with them to be confronted by a friendly concierge woman. I showed her my printout with my hosts name... she waved me through and pointed out flat 2.
I rang and rang the door bell and there was no reply. So I called Yevgeny's mobile. Turns out (a) he wasn't expecting me for a few days and (b) he wouldn't be home from work for four hours. Oh dear (fuck). He suggested I went to the Magelan. So I did. It's open until 23.00.
I made a decision to dump my bag outside the flat, which was behind several doors so was safe-ish. I certainly wasn't going to lug it around the shopping centre.
Leaving the building I 'explained' in sign language to the concierge that I had a four hour wait. She very kindly offered me to sit in her cosy room and watch her TV. I declined gracefully.
I used my time in the Magelan to get an hour in a net cafe and have a meal, and of course browse the fantastic supermarket (a cultural highlight of any trip abroad). All quite inexpensive. CDs in the book/music shop were about very cheap. Average price was £4 and the most expensive I saw was £6. UK chart CDs were about £4 and this in a reputable looking shop.
The meal was <blush> Sushi - I picked a restaurant that had pictures on the menu. The chefs were Asian at least.
Everyone smokes here, especially the women.
Many women in fur coats. Have to assume they are real. And needed.
A lot of people in the resto are drinking 'brandy' (I think - well, it looks like brandy) and coffee as an aperitif. The 'brandy' comes with a plate of lemon slices.
Drifted back to the flat at gone 10.
My bag had gone!!
Olga had rescued it... And left this wonderful note on the floor where it was. A more accurate picture of what was where would not be possible.
Since my Pannini in Berlin, I had only had a Mars bar. Luckily my second-class Ukrainian sleeper had 'catering'. One chocolate croissant and a bottle of water. Saved. OMG. It is 23.00.
Note to travelers: ALWAYS carry local currency for the country you are going to. And dollars. And if you have dollars, attempt to use them! And carry food. And drink. And a hip-flask. Former is most important as with it you can buy all the latter. Failing that, the latter will render the former slightly less important.
I went to bed hoping that tomorrow the buffet car would see me right for breakfast - we were not due to get to Kiev for 18 hours (and two minutes). 16.26. If the buffet car doesn't take dollars (or a card HA HA HA HA) I'm fucked.
I woke at 8.45am after a troubled night full of people in uniform. Local time, I realise later, is 10.45 which has important consequences regarding when it's OK to have a beer. It was sunny and stunning outside. Crucially though, my carriage is isolated from the rest of the train. There is no connection, unless I want to jump 'the void'. So, no buffet / breakfast car. Yikes.
Lots of goods trains rolling past carrying wood.
First passport inspection last night was at 2am. Leaving Poland I presume. Second visit was at 3am. Ukraine. Ukrainians took my passport away and I had to fill in an immigration form. Passport returned with an orange stamp, at gone 4am. In the meantime, the train was pushed into a shed and raised off the wheels so that different ones could be fitted that matched the change of line guage. This took so long and was so noisy that I got dressed and took some illicit pics out of the window.
The carriages are each heated by their own coal stove. Each carriage has its own coal store. In the pics in the shed you can see the coal smoke. Smell is always lovely.
Arrive at Pibhe station. Stations are open plan and open onto the rest of the town. Platforms are much lower. You have to climb up to the train. This means that crossing the tracks is easy and it seems to be the legal way of getting from one side to the other. Saves on building bridges.
Talked to a fellow passenger who had a coffee! He had communed with the guard and ascertained that we would be here for a while and that getting off for food and stuff was OK. I'll know next time.
Dogs on the platform. I leant out of the window and one just sat there looking at me.
As I was leaning out of the window, I attracted the attention of the women selling stuff out of laundry bags. Obviously I had no real idea what they had, other than that they were brandishing beer and water. Also, I had to declare to them that I had only dollars. At this point they got very animated and excited. Phew!!
Food was hauled out and passed up to me. The lack of choice working on my favour - I just took what they had. Greedily. I handed down the odd dollar note or two and they just handed more stuff up. It seems that they were handing me what they thought was worth the money I was handing down. In the end, I ended up with two beers (500ml, Ukrainian, 3.7%), 1.5l of fizzy water and a plate of home-made food on a paper plate wrapped in cling-film. Looked like flat dumplings. Smelt of onion. All this for $5. An astonishing bargain as far as I was concerned. Probably dumb-tourist-sucker as far as they were concerned. Everyone happy!
[Note: carry $1 notes. Nobody will have change / want to give you no change.]
Food was hot. Reminded me a bit of a cross between potato ravioli and gnochi, but cooked in oil with onions. Anyway, it was fabulous and I ate all of it and it went very well with the beer. It was breakfast.
Whenever the train stopped, a great pile of hot ash and clinker was lobbed out of each carriage. Housekeeping.
There is something fantastically romantic and unknown and helpless about leaning out of the window of stationary train in the middle of a massive landscape, especially a snow-covered one.
Arrived in Kiev at half four. Beautiful station and beautifully designed. A joy to be there.
Note to travelers: ALWAYS carry local currency for the country you are going to. And dollars. And if you have dollars, attempt to use them! And carry food. And drink. And a hip-flask. Former is most important as with it you can buy all the latter. Failing that, the latter will render the former slightly less important.
I went to bed hoping that tomorrow the buffet car would see me right for breakfast - we were not due to get to Kiev for 18 hours (and two minutes). 16.26. If the buffet car doesn't take dollars (or a card HA HA HA HA) I'm fucked.
I woke at 8.45am after a troubled night full of people in uniform. Local time, I realise later, is 10.45 which has important consequences regarding when it's OK to have a beer. It was sunny and stunning outside. Crucially though, my carriage is isolated from the rest of the train. There is no connection, unless I want to jump 'the void'. So, no buffet / breakfast car. Yikes.
Lots of goods trains rolling past carrying wood.
First passport inspection last night was at 2am. Leaving Poland I presume. Second visit was at 3am. Ukraine. Ukrainians took my passport away and I had to fill in an immigration form. Passport returned with an orange stamp, at gone 4am. In the meantime, the train was pushed into a shed and raised off the wheels so that different ones could be fitted that matched the change of line guage. This took so long and was so noisy that I got dressed and took some illicit pics out of the window.
The carriages are each heated by their own coal stove. Each carriage has its own coal store. In the pics in the shed you can see the coal smoke. Smell is always lovely.
Arrive at Pibhe station. Stations are open plan and open onto the rest of the town. Platforms are much lower. You have to climb up to the train. This means that crossing the tracks is easy and it seems to be the legal way of getting from one side to the other. Saves on building bridges.
Talked to a fellow passenger who had a coffee! He had communed with the guard and ascertained that we would be here for a while and that getting off for food and stuff was OK. I'll know next time.
Dogs on the platform. I leant out of the window and one just sat there looking at me.
As I was leaning out of the window, I attracted the attention of the women selling stuff out of laundry bags. Obviously I had no real idea what they had, other than that they were brandishing beer and water. Also, I had to declare to them that I had only dollars. At this point they got very animated and excited. Phew!!
Food was hauled out and passed up to me. The lack of choice working on my favour - I just took what they had. Greedily. I handed down the odd dollar note or two and they just handed more stuff up. It seems that they were handing me what they thought was worth the money I was handing down. In the end, I ended up with two beers (500ml, Ukrainian, 3.7%), 1.5l of fizzy water and a plate of home-made food on a paper plate wrapped in cling-film. Looked like flat dumplings. Smelt of onion. All this for $5. An astonishing bargain as far as I was concerned. Probably dumb-tourist-sucker as far as they were concerned. Everyone happy!
[Note: carry $1 notes. Nobody will have change / want to give you no change.]
Food was hot. Reminded me a bit of a cross between potato ravioli and gnochi, but cooked in oil with onions. Anyway, it was fabulous and I ate all of it and it went very well with the beer. It was breakfast.
Whenever the train stopped, a great pile of hot ash and clinker was lobbed out of each carriage. Housekeeping.
There is something fantastically romantic and unknown and helpless about leaning out of the window of stationary train in the middle of a massive landscape, especially a snow-covered one.
Arrived in Kiev at half four. Beautiful station and beautifully designed. A joy to be there.
Double entry for this leg so that the pictures don't get lost in a mass of words.
I have a reluctance to iPod in situations where I'm 'vulnerable'. Is that the right word? I don't often walk down the street doing it. I didn't feel like wiling away the hours at Wschodnia doing it either. But I did stand on the platform in my hat and gloves and read. But it took hours after I got on the train for my left hand to warm up.
Eventually the train turned up, late but not too bad. 20 minutes.
Now, the carriages have numbers on them and I knew my carriage number. But it all happens so fast... You're disorientated, cold, hungry, sober and desperate. I ran down the train shouting 'FIVE'. Someone pointed all the way down the end of the train. I DID see the sleeper bits of the train and did wonder I why I was running away from them... but I KNOW that trains have corridors, and getting on the wrong bit isn't a big deal. So I just got on. The wrong bit. A Polish, red, passenger carriage. Empty. As soon as I got on, I realized my mistake and engaged the Polish guard in conversation detailing my plight. He indicated I think that I needed to get off 'his' carriage and get onto the sleeper part of the train. I asked how I was going to do this while the train was moving and he made a hand-gesture that was lost on me seeing as I didn't have a Polish phrase-book.
Anyway, I was oK as the train had a corridor. So I walked down to the join. There was a door and it was locked. BUT, there was someone on the other side. So I gesticulated to indicate that I wanted to be ob his side of the door. He understood this perfectly and had obviously seen many a traveler try and 'upgrade' in this fashion before. So he gave me a wry wink and disappeared. Fuck.
No worries. I still had the Universal Dinner Lady on my side [Google 'barefoot doctor'] (I called her up many many times on this trip). I explained that the driver wanted to, needed to, and had to, stop the fucking train so that I could change carriages.
Low and behold, the train rattled on. But the conductor and conductoress came along and between us we worked out that I was an idiot and on the wrong bit of the train, and that they had they key, and that they could release me in to the arms of the Ukrainian train-folk. Who were looking after my bed. Incredibly they were able to perform the operation and I then trecked down seven corridor carriages to mine. Mine was the only second class (they were all third) carriage so was at the head of the train. And each carriage had an 'owner' - an attendant who needed to scrutinise my non-Cyrillic ticket for authority to traverse their territory.
I have a reluctance to iPod in situations where I'm 'vulnerable'. Is that the right word? I don't often walk down the street doing it. I didn't feel like wiling away the hours at Wschodnia doing it either. But I did stand on the platform in my hat and gloves and read. But it took hours after I got on the train for my left hand to warm up.
Eventually the train turned up, late but not too bad. 20 minutes.
Now, the carriages have numbers on them and I knew my carriage number. But it all happens so fast... You're disorientated, cold, hungry, sober and desperate. I ran down the train shouting 'FIVE'. Someone pointed all the way down the end of the train. I DID see the sleeper bits of the train and did wonder I why I was running away from them... but I KNOW that trains have corridors, and getting on the wrong bit isn't a big deal. So I just got on. The wrong bit. A Polish, red, passenger carriage. Empty. As soon as I got on, I realized my mistake and engaged the Polish guard in conversation detailing my plight. He indicated I think that I needed to get off 'his' carriage and get onto the sleeper part of the train. I asked how I was going to do this while the train was moving and he made a hand-gesture that was lost on me seeing as I didn't have a Polish phrase-book.
Anyway, I was oK as the train had a corridor. So I walked down to the join. There was a door and it was locked. BUT, there was someone on the other side. So I gesticulated to indicate that I wanted to be ob his side of the door. He understood this perfectly and had obviously seen many a traveler try and 'upgrade' in this fashion before. So he gave me a wry wink and disappeared. Fuck.
No worries. I still had the Universal Dinner Lady on my side [Google 'barefoot doctor'] (I called her up many many times on this trip). I explained that the driver wanted to, needed to, and had to, stop the fucking train so that I could change carriages.
Low and behold, the train rattled on. But the conductor and conductoress came along and between us we worked out that I was an idiot and on the wrong bit of the train, and that they had they key, and that they could release me in to the arms of the Ukrainian train-folk. Who were looking after my bed. Incredibly they were able to perform the operation and I then trecked down seven corridor carriages to mine. Mine was the only second class (they were all third) carriage so was at the head of the train. And each carriage had an 'owner' - an attendant who needed to scrutinise my non-Cyrillic ticket for authority to traverse their territory.
This was where I felt that the trip, the adventure, really started. It was here that I felt that I was somewhere new. Uncharted.
So, I had made the decision to ignore the 'delights' (now only imagined) of the 'central' Warsaw station for what I expected was to Central what say Paddington was to Kings Cross. Oh dear. Wschodnia was a bad news place. I was indeed excited at being in Poland, In Warsaw.
My notes:
"Wschodnia is a grim station. Lots of stall-like shops selling snacks, drinks, books, porn, slippers. There was a cash machine that wouldn't take any of my cards so I had no money. Nobody wanted to take Euros. I have NO IDEA why I didn't try and use dollars. I'm not so stupid that I never carry dollars! The station isn't 'international'. And I bet that my sleeper started at Central - it can't possibly start from here. I had a two hour wait in an unheated station at 19.30 with no money and I was starving, and quite fancied a drink. I had to eat one of my two emergency mars bars. Station was so scary, and I was tapped-up so many times for cash, that I didn't get my camera out. I should have. Only record of it are some phone-cam pics."
Platforms are reached via a long tunnel perpendicular to the platforms, just like at Cardiff Central, only with knicker and bra stalls lining it, and dodgy DVD stalls, and of course badly lit.
Hmm. Why didn't I try and use dollars? There was a post office and I tried to change money and with a bit of language jocularity I worked out that the Change place closed 20 minutes ago. They were very smiley ladies though.
Ironically, while I was on the platform, the Warsaw to Moscow sleeper came in, the one that goes via Belarus that I would have been on had I not wanted to go to the Ukraine (JOOI, is is 'the' Ukraine? Or is it just 'Ukraine'?).
JOOI, it was on this part of the trip that I decided, as I always do, that the camera memory / storage that I have brought with me isn't going to be enough (I carry two 2GB cards that are each good for 165 RAW + JPEG images at ISO 100). I really need at least four times this amount at the very least (knowing that increasing ISO to 400 etc cuts down the number of shots even more). Really I need two 8GB cards. Anyway, in the absence of this, I switched to 'large JPEG only'. Only I forgot until the next morning that unless I did something about it, I would be in B&W the rest of the trip. Which is all you're seeing anyway.
This is what the station looked like... Note that the first pic is of the departure board. My friend, the departure board. My train is the penultimate one on the left-hand side even though it doesn't mention Warsaw or Kiev. The 'destination' is the town on the border where the Polish part of the train splits off. More on that later - I got to see that bit of the train at close quarters.
This station was unheated.
So, I had made the decision to ignore the 'delights' (now only imagined) of the 'central' Warsaw station for what I expected was to Central what say Paddington was to Kings Cross. Oh dear. Wschodnia was a bad news place. I was indeed excited at being in Poland, In Warsaw.
My notes:
"Wschodnia is a grim station. Lots of stall-like shops selling snacks, drinks, books, porn, slippers. There was a cash machine that wouldn't take any of my cards so I had no money. Nobody wanted to take Euros. I have NO IDEA why I didn't try and use dollars. I'm not so stupid that I never carry dollars! The station isn't 'international'. And I bet that my sleeper started at Central - it can't possibly start from here. I had a two hour wait in an unheated station at 19.30 with no money and I was starving, and quite fancied a drink. I had to eat one of my two emergency mars bars. Station was so scary, and I was tapped-up so many times for cash, that I didn't get my camera out. I should have. Only record of it are some phone-cam pics."
Platforms are reached via a long tunnel perpendicular to the platforms, just like at Cardiff Central, only with knicker and bra stalls lining it, and dodgy DVD stalls, and of course badly lit.
Hmm. Why didn't I try and use dollars? There was a post office and I tried to change money and with a bit of language jocularity I worked out that the Change place closed 20 minutes ago. They were very smiley ladies though.
Ironically, while I was on the platform, the Warsaw to Moscow sleeper came in, the one that goes via Belarus that I would have been on had I not wanted to go to the Ukraine (JOOI, is is 'the' Ukraine? Or is it just 'Ukraine'?).
JOOI, it was on this part of the trip that I decided, as I always do, that the camera memory / storage that I have brought with me isn't going to be enough (I carry two 2GB cards that are each good for 165 RAW + JPEG images at ISO 100). I really need at least four times this amount at the very least (knowing that increasing ISO to 400 etc cuts down the number of shots even more). Really I need two 8GB cards. Anyway, in the absence of this, I switched to 'large JPEG only'. Only I forgot until the next morning that unless I did something about it, I would be in B&W the rest of the trip. Which is all you're seeing anyway.
This is what the station looked like... Note that the first pic is of the departure board. My friend, the departure board. My train is the penultimate one on the left-hand side even though it doesn't mention Warsaw or Kiev. The 'destination' is the town on the border where the Polish part of the train splits off. More on that later - I got to see that bit of the train at close quarters.
This station was unheated.
I spent some time in Berlin. I had all morning really. I just walked around the new parliament building and the Brandenburg Gate. It was very cold but OK. Vaguely hot meal at the station (a paninni) but I still regard that as a glorified sandwich. At least I had Euros.
Train to Warsaw was a daytime train so didn't plan on stocking up with food and drink, but it did cross my mind... Berlin HBF is a glorious station that has soul and vibrancy. It reminds me of airports in its cosmopolitan feel (but I MUCH prefer stations to airports!). It is ful of shops and life and a warm sense of well-being. And an empathy to travelers. It wants travelers to be there. To want to come back. Germany is in fact passionate about its railways and wants them to succeed. And it shows. Makes a big difference to Britain where nobody could give a shit about the pathetic state of the railways.
Railway stations in Europe for example have bins. Its a small thing, but it means that there isn't rubbish stacked on every available horizontal surface, or lobbed onto the track. They also know that they have bins, and as a result, there were people emptying them (in Moscow this was at 00.15).
Passengers give off the aura that they know that they are going to get where they are going happily.
My compartment, not a sleeper remember, was a 6-seat affair a bit like a BR compartment in the 70s. But cleaner. Even the windows were clean. I shared the compartment with a glamour-puss who it emerged, down the track so to speak, had a small dog in a specially-made holdall.
One thing that I noticed in 'the east' is the propensity for tubes. I presume that they are carrying gas (water?). As the train trundled through east Berlin and eastern Germany, they were everywhere.
All of a sudden I seem to be in Poland. The police on the platform are dressed all in black. First stop was I think Rzepin. There were no border controls. Some police style men boarded the train but they didn't come and see me.
The train shuddered a bit and then I saw the red DB engine go back the way that it had come. So we now had a Polish engine.A consequence of the engine change is that the lights on the compartment have come on. I presume that the Polish engine has the right electrical connectors...
Poland is full of trees. And old black steam engines proudly displayed at stations. Why don't we do that in Britain?
Lots of disused railway lines and equipment. Lots of abandoned railway stations. Lots and lots of level crossings.
I got to Poznan at about 15.000. Lots of decaying industry near the railway line. More pipes. Lots and lots of blocks of flats. 18.30 coming into Warsaw. Yes, it's been a 6hr journey, but I'm coming into Warsaw. Not Glasgow.
In a seemingly clever move (it seemed so at the time) I noticed that the train was going to Warsaw Wschodnia which is where my Kiev sleeper was going from, so I decided to stay on the train until then rather than get off at Warsaw Central. This would prove to be a mistake. Quite a big one.
Train to Warsaw was a daytime train so didn't plan on stocking up with food and drink, but it did cross my mind... Berlin HBF is a glorious station that has soul and vibrancy. It reminds me of airports in its cosmopolitan feel (but I MUCH prefer stations to airports!). It is ful of shops and life and a warm sense of well-being. And an empathy to travelers. It wants travelers to be there. To want to come back. Germany is in fact passionate about its railways and wants them to succeed. And it shows. Makes a big difference to Britain where nobody could give a shit about the pathetic state of the railways.
Railway stations in Europe for example have bins. Its a small thing, but it means that there isn't rubbish stacked on every available horizontal surface, or lobbed onto the track. They also know that they have bins, and as a result, there were people emptying them (in Moscow this was at 00.15).
Passengers give off the aura that they know that they are going to get where they are going happily.
My compartment, not a sleeper remember, was a 6-seat affair a bit like a BR compartment in the 70s. But cleaner. Even the windows were clean. I shared the compartment with a glamour-puss who it emerged, down the track so to speak, had a small dog in a specially-made holdall.
One thing that I noticed in 'the east' is the propensity for tubes. I presume that they are carrying gas (water?). As the train trundled through east Berlin and eastern Germany, they were everywhere.
All of a sudden I seem to be in Poland. The police on the platform are dressed all in black. First stop was I think Rzepin. There were no border controls. Some police style men boarded the train but they didn't come and see me.
The train shuddered a bit and then I saw the red DB engine go back the way that it had come. So we now had a Polish engine.A consequence of the engine change is that the lights on the compartment have come on. I presume that the Polish engine has the right electrical connectors...
Poland is full of trees. And old black steam engines proudly displayed at stations. Why don't we do that in Britain?
Lots of disused railway lines and equipment. Lots of abandoned railway stations. Lots and lots of level crossings.
I got to Poznan at about 15.000. Lots of decaying industry near the railway line. More pipes. Lots and lots of blocks of flats. 18.30 coming into Warsaw. Yes, it's been a 6hr journey, but I'm coming into Warsaw. Not Glasgow.
In a seemingly clever move (it seemed so at the time) I noticed that the train was going to Warsaw Wschodnia which is where my Kiev sleeper was going from, so I decided to stay on the train until then rather than get off at Warsaw Central. This would prove to be a mistake. Quite a big one.
I am used to being at Midi-Bruxelles on business. It was odd being their on pleasure. It was deserted and yet still early, 21.30. Almost nothing open. This was a big surprise as I was expecting to get a hot meal. Had to settle for two cans of beer and a tub of Pringles (cans because the cafe was closing to couldn't stand me bottles and a glass).
Waiting for my delayed 23.41 sleeper to Berlin, I mused about the things that I knew that I didn't have and that were of slight concern. Top of the list was a Ukranian / Russian phrase book (or even Polish). I shamefully don't even know what please or thank you are.
I think that I was on the same platform as when I got the non-sleeper from Brussels to Cologne in my race with Mick (I lost by five hours, my journey-time being twice his]). On that occasion the platform changed from 3 to 20-something - they are a long way apart.
It is cold and deserted.
The train was five minutes late but was fantastic. When I found my berth, I was in a compartment that had three beds. I was on the bottom and the others were not occupied. I had a corner shower / loo bathroom that had three sets of very nice-looking toiletries. It was all very clean and new. There was a shave point for me to charge my iPod.
The bed was made and on it was a bottle of water and a small bottle of wine and a glass glass.
This was my first sleeper and I felt like I was in a spy film. It was warm, cosy and utterly fantastic. Carpet and wood-paneling. The conductor / guard / attendant (he was all of these and much more) came and checked my ticket and asked whether I wanted tea or coffee in the morning. "They are all included' he said.
Woke at about 7.30 after a good if slightly broken sleep. The train stopped quite a bit and people got on and off. I sort of expected it to be no stops.
Shower was hot and lovely.
Attendant brought me a big bag of breakfast and a good coffee (2 yoghurts, 2 bread rolls, whole! 125g Camembert, croissant and butter/jam/chocolate spread). He also tells me that the train is now one hour late. I ate lots of Camembert.
Waiting for my delayed 23.41 sleeper to Berlin, I mused about the things that I knew that I didn't have and that were of slight concern. Top of the list was a Ukranian / Russian phrase book (or even Polish). I shamefully don't even know what please or thank you are.
I think that I was on the same platform as when I got the non-sleeper from Brussels to Cologne in my race with Mick (I lost by five hours, my journey-time being twice his]). On that occasion the platform changed from 3 to 20-something - they are a long way apart.
It is cold and deserted.
The train was five minutes late but was fantastic. When I found my berth, I was in a compartment that had three beds. I was on the bottom and the others were not occupied. I had a corner shower / loo bathroom that had three sets of very nice-looking toiletries. It was all very clean and new. There was a shave point for me to charge my iPod.
The bed was made and on it was a bottle of water and a small bottle of wine and a glass glass.
This was my first sleeper and I felt like I was in a spy film. It was warm, cosy and utterly fantastic. Carpet and wood-paneling. The conductor / guard / attendant (he was all of these and much more) came and checked my ticket and asked whether I wanted tea or coffee in the morning. "They are all included' he said.
Woke at about 7.30 after a good if slightly broken sleep. The train stopped quite a bit and people got on and off. I sort of expected it to be no stops.
Shower was hot and lovely.
Attendant brought me a big bag of breakfast and a good coffee (2 yoghurts, 2 bread rolls, whole! 125g Camembert, croissant and butter/jam/chocolate spread). He also tells me that the train is now one hour late. I ate lots of Camembert.
I walked from home to Cambridge station and then got a fast train to London and then walked to St Pancras. My first visit. Well, it is dramatic but it is also a little soulless and amazingly signs are in English only. This is an important point that would haunt me later in the trip. A very parochial view taken by British Rail (or whatever it is these days - it probably ought to be British Rail BTW. The idea that some tickets are not vlid on some trains is ludicrous).
My notes describe St Pancras as cold and without cheer. And that I was disappointed.
There was no in-seat power on the Eurostar so I couldn't charge my iPod that discharged without me using it on the way down, down to the fact that it was in my shoulder bag without the safety on.
I ate yet another sandwich and a pleasing glass of red. On this trip I'm going to try and avoid (again looking at my notes) 'relatively dull, cold food'. Again, this has portent as we will see later.
Sitting at St Pancras (the place without soul) my spirits were not lifted and my adventure, despite being on the threshold of it, was not drawing me in. I was apprehensive but with surprisingly little excitement firing me up. I wasn't all that keen on being on my own at that particular point in time and I was slightly bemused as to what on earth I was doing.
My notes describe St Pancras as cold and without cheer. And that I was disappointed.
There was no in-seat power on the Eurostar so I couldn't charge my iPod that discharged without me using it on the way down, down to the fact that it was in my shoulder bag without the safety on.
I ate yet another sandwich and a pleasing glass of red. On this trip I'm going to try and avoid (again looking at my notes) 'relatively dull, cold food'. Again, this has portent as we will see later.
Sitting at St Pancras (the place without soul) my spirits were not lifted and my adventure, despite being on the threshold of it, was not drawing me in. I was apprehensive but with surprisingly little excitement firing me up. I wasn't all that keen on being on my own at that particular point in time and I was slightly bemused as to what on earth I was doing.
