A Siberian Odyssey
On the longest train journey in the world, Roger Norum traverses two continents, eight time zones and 6,000 miles of steppe to learn he feels most at home aboard the Tsar’s Gold
“ R
oodzher, one must not stray from the collective!” We’d been in Moscow not two hours and already I was getting on Natalia’s
nerves and delaying our group – again. But I was busy doing what I do best: straying from the collective. This time, my crime was spending
too much time photographing couples photographing themselves. My punish- ment? Listening to Natalia wax romantic about the heyday of the pre-Glasnost days. Her diction and phraseology suggested she had learned to speak from a 1930s copy of English for The New Soviet Citizen. But af- ter she served as my guide and confidante for two weeks as we crossed half the world together, I wouldn’t let anyone else chide me and whip me into shape. For 15 years or so, the Trans-Siberian had been a pipe dream – a trip you long to take, but which you never seem to find either time or proper excuse for. But last summer’s sensational Russian espionage case had made it clear Cold War Rus-
82 WORLD OF CRUISING I Winter 2010 / 2011
sia – that mysterious land of hidden loot, invisible ink, ginger damsels and gangs of sleeper agents – was still alive and kicking. Could there possibly be a better time to go? The journey began in one of the most
chaotic places in the world. Bustling with giddy, middle-age peddlers hawking beer, spicy sausages and packets of instant noodles, Beijing Central Railway Station was filled with a sense of excitement and drama – long-distance train stations have always held a fascination for me. For the next two weeks I was aboard a magic carpet of a train known as the Tsar’s Gold. The 22 Russian-built carriages were luxury dachas on wheels, complete with six chefs, dozens of waiters and attendants, umpteen guides, multiple engineers, a doctor and an accordion player. My beloved little bedroom, an air- conditioned, carpeted cabin with private shower, felt way cosier than the flat I rent in London. At 7.33pm on the dot, the chaos of Beijing faded slowly away as the train pulled out.
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