Irkust - Moscow

The City of Irkust did not really leave a good impression on me. For the most part it was grim, especially after the experience of clean open Baikal and the homestay we did there. Irkust seemed to be stuck in an 80's time warp, with tracksuits and badly permed hair to match. There wasn't a smile to be seen for the entire time we were there, simply scowling, fierce looking women, and big gruffly, rather unattractive men. And they seemed to have a bee in their bonnet about everything. Whilst in a supermarket, Wakako got excited when we saw a little shelf selling Japanese products (we've got excited every time we see anything like this) and as usual we took a cheesy photograph of Wakako stood next to these products. And then suddenly out of nowhere an aggressive security guard comes running up demanding that the photo is deleted immediately and that we refrain from every doing such an abominable thing again. I had been warned about this obviously, the Russian paranoia of documenting anything of their country. But this kind of behaviour just seems to make it look like they really have something to hide if they freak out about a photograph of a girl stood next to a shelf selling seaweed. We left Irkust feeling rather happy to be escaping, although slightly apprehensive about FOUR DAYS on a train. However, these four days turned out to be absolute bliss much to my surprise. The time passed far quicker than I imagined it would; in fact, it all but dissolved, and it seemed to be over in a blink of an eye. Waking up and falling asleep to the constant rickety-rick of the train was the only thing which caused some difficulties, especially when they changed the engine in the middle of the night which caused the train to jump and slam for quite some time. I think this changing of engines is done because for example, crossing the Ural Mountains would have required a BIG F*CKING engine, but once this was done it could be replaced with a more wee one, and the big mamma could be left for the next train needing to cross the Urals.

There was much drunkenness on the train. In our carriage, there were a fair percentage of boys (claiming to be men) with nothing better to do with themselves than drink away the hours. This definitely caused some amusement, like the sounds of an American lad trying to put a drunk Russian to bed and the conversation going something like

Russian: "Are you my friend!?"
American: "YES!!! I'M YOUR FRIEND!!!!!"
Russian: "Will you help me?!?!"
American: "YES!!!! I WILL HELP YOU!!!!!!!"

This carried on for quite some time because although claiming to be able to help the Russian, the American couldn't quite figure out which cabin the Russian belonged in.

I made the mistake of laughing the next day with the boys about this. They then tried to drag Wakako and I off for the next night of chaos. I politely declined, claiming I had urgent things impressing on me. (I think I had to prepare lunch of peanut butter on bread.)

But of course a fair bit of beer was drunk by Wakako and myself. And a fair bit of poker was played. Wakako has got the "poker face" perfected to a T, she is an incredible player, the little bitch. Be warned, she is a SHARK.

And so on day four we pulled into Moscow, which actually turned out to be a far more colouful city than I expected. And people smiled, which was the first thing that surprised me. I am slightly gutted that we only had one night in Moscow, I could have stayed there easily for a week. What a city. Incredible atmosphere and way more beautiful than I had imagined.

But sadly money and time prevented us from larking around Moscow, and so we soon jumped onto the train bound for Warsaw, Europe, crossing through Belarus, which we needed a bloody visa for. At the Belarus border we experienced the last of the tiresome border crossings with pissed off looking officials who didn't believe the pretentious 17yr old in the black and white passport photo was me. I had gone through that at every border. Each border was a pain in the ass, China, Mongolia, and Russia, but the Russians were by far the strictest. At the Mongolia border, they came marching on with very scary looking women and men with torches who pulled each cabin apart and investigated luggage, nearly tore up the upholstery of the seats in order to make sure we weren't smuggling god knows what. Ahh, the relief of crossing into Poland and simply having a woman get on and bark "ALCOHOL??? CIGARETTES???" at us! I had forgotten about the "anything to declare" part. They weren't even particularly bothered about our passports. And we even got a smile of some of them.

Poland. It is 10 years since I was here last. Warsaw seems fishily like an English city. I think it might be all the Costa Coffee and H&M shops making me feel a bit jittery. It is lovely to have Wakako here to see Europe through the eyes of Asia, it makes you realise how "exotic" it must all be if you are not European. I however am having very mixed feelings. I am already missing the mountains and the odd random temple and shrine scattered about cities. And the constant supply of ready to eat and drink rice and green tea in all of the shops. There is just bread and biscuits to be found now. Sigh.

After travelling through 4 different countries and 8 different time zones, I am now just 1 hour apart from the Toon. Not long now before I am back on Toon land, and then the journey from Japan really will have come to and end.

Before that, Caitlin will arrive in Warsaw tomorrow to travel with Wakako and I as far as Prague. Another playmate and more mischief. Photos to follow.