Berlin to Moscow: A Rude Awakening

The final few hours in Berlin were spent shuffling through a supermarket, stocking up on supplies for the upcoming train ride. Although far from the longest stint on tracks, this was our first Plus 24 hour journey, so we needed to get enough stocks to last us.

I have to admit, taking in a foreign supermarket is one of my guilty pleasures. I just find it endlessly fascinating seeing what oddities are in stock (and of course looking out for rudely named products, come on, we've all had a giggle at Bimbo bread in Spain?) The most curious item I found was a fruit or vegetable which was shaped, and coloured exactly like a starfish. I've not noticed these in Tesco - any ideas?

We headed back to the station to leave our backpackss in the lockers, then ventured to the Pergamon Museum. I was particularly keen to see the altar of Zeus, but we felt that for backpackers 10 Euro's each was a bit steep, so we didn't go in. Next time I go to one of London's excellent free museums I will remember to make a donation.

We ventured back to the station again, and pottered about. With over 2 hours to spare when we arrived, it came as something of a shock to find ourselves in the opposite end of the station, without our luggage, 15 minutes before the train was due. We sprinted about the Haupbanhoff, carrying our homes on our backs like snails on speed and as we were asking an attendant if we we're on the right platform our train pulled in!

Gemma will pick up the journey on the Moskva Express:

I am sat in what can only be described as a cupboard with a window. It is a cloudy day and the trees lining our route are whizzing by in a green blur. This is an old, rickety train which is making writing quite difficult as I bounce around on the end of the bottom bunk. There is not quite enough room to put my feet up or sit normally so I am shuffling and repositioning myself to try to compensate for the trains movements.

On entering the carriage we found three rock hard seats, a small table and cupboard. The table turned out to be a sink (the water was brown at first) and the cupboard was a bathroom cabinet, only it contained a decanter and some crystal glasses - a sign of the former luxury this train once was. Everything here rattles to the rhythm of the train.

Our female train guard arrived, she reminded me of a stern matron that you might see in Carry On movies, and we were shooed out of the room. She transformed the seats into two bunk beds, lucky us - this cupboard was designed for three!

We went to bed quite early, only to be woken at 2.30pm by a knock at the door. We were not sure what was happening so politely said "no thank you". The closed door was meet with more vigorous knocking as serious men in uniform boarded our train. We had arrived in Belarus and our path crossed passport control who checked, double checked, and triple checked our passports with a magnifying glass. We said nothing, just sat there like naughty school children. Our passports were taken and not returned until an hour and a half later when matron closed our door. We both dozed off quickly, but not for long.

The train came to a sudden halt, and the loud bang told me that we had hit something larger than us! I clung to the roll bar that stopped me falling out of the top bunk as Darren precariously lifted the blind to see a floodlit construction site. As our train was jacked into the air we worked out that the wheels were being changed (I hadn't even noticed the flat tyre!) The whole operation took about an hour, during which time I really needed a pee! However, the shunting of the train meant that I didn't dare climb down the step ladder. (Yes, step ladder! Just like the ones you get in B&Q only well used and broken. It required two people to operate it as the safety catch was hanging off - yet another thing to swing and clatter to the melody of the train.)

Dozing off, then waking up as I was thrown against the roll bar or the wall was scary, but I must have fallen asleep because I woke at 10am, desperate for that same pee and suffering from my first real bout of motion sickness.

Back to Darren:

We got off the train at Moscow Belaruskaya station, and headed for the Metro, managing to find our local station without too much difficulty, but then the problems began. Our tourist map, and indeed the hostels address were written in Latin script. Whilst the major roads usually have their name in Cyrillic and Latin script, the side roads don't. The road our hostel is on definitely didn't. Fortunately we found a friendly local who, rather than just direct us, actually took us to our hostel and gave us a bit of a local history too!

We were very tired, but even moreso hungry, so we ventured out into the darkness of Moscow, agreeing to eat at the first place we found. Which turned out to be a Starbucks. Although, that's not a massive surprise, in 48 hours in Moscow we've found all manner of Western shops: Levi's; Timberland; Diesel.

In Gorky park we spotted 4 Subway stands - and we didn't even walk half of the park. There is a real lust for Americana here that is quite surprising, and a little sad. It seems like the US chains are shooting fish in a barrel. Fortunately I haven't spotted a McDonalds on Red Square, or a Burger King in the Kremlin - but I bet some corporate bigwig somewhere has dreamt of it.

We've been wandering around and navigating the metro for a few days now, have been to some of the major sites, and really enjoyed it so far. It's a little intimidating, arriving in Moscow at first, but after a few days you get to grips with it, finding your way about with relative ease. And a surprising number of people know a bit of English and are actually willing to help. Behind their steely facades I think Muscovites are more friendly than the impression they give off.

The Kremlin was interesting, although it was a bit disappointing to find some parts closed for rennovation when we went. The cathedrals inside are stunning, we visited one which contained the tombs of 50 tsars, although as with much of Moscow there were no signs in English. Russia really isn't geared up for independent tourists.

We spent a couple of hours in the Tretyakov gallery - the only artist we recognised was Kandinsky - but there were some amazing pieces by Russian artists with unpronouncable (and unwritable) names . As with the Kremlin, there really wasn't much to go on for information, so we just had to take it in visually! We did enjoy the sculpture park next door, it had everything from a giant Pinocchio to busts of Lenin & Stalin.

We're scheduled to leave Moscow at 23:55 on Saturday, and we have three whole nights on the train to plan for, so I think we've got an epic supermarket trip in the offing. So, farewell until we reach Irkutsk, by which time we'll be a bloody long way from home!