While in Mongolia, we budgeted out our time for the rest of the trip and realized that our final days of traveling were quickly approaching. No matter how we worked it, we simply did not have enough days to sufficiently see Moscow and St. Petersburg before our flight home. One of the cities would have to be cut short.
Moscow had the Kremlin, Red Square, and the famous Saint Basil’s Cathedral. Russia’s Independence Day was also looming and we wanted to spend this national holiday in Moscow. I imagined those legendary military parades like the ones I used to see on the old newscasts with huge fireworks displays and tanks rolling across Red Square.
On the other hand, St. Petersburg is a Mecca for culture hungry travelers in Russia. Churches and museums abound in this historic city. But it was their White Nights Festival that sounded really interesting. We were told that the whole city dresses entirely in white to celebrate the 23 hours of sunlight per day. It seemed like a hard call; where would be the best place to concentrate the short time we had left? We learned from fellow travelers that we could probably see the best of Moscow’s sights in just two days but St. Petersburg wasn’t a city to skimp on time-wise.
We really hoped everyone was right as we booked our final train ticket to take us from Moscow to St. Petersburg. Normally, we would have bought this ticket when we were in Moscow (to give us some wiggle room) but trains were booking up fast. Thousands of people were heading to St. Petersburg for the White Nights Festival. In theory the itinerary sounded great. We’d stay in Moscow for two days, visiting the Kremlin on our first day and watching the grandiose parades the second day. We’d end our travels with four days in St. Petersburg, going to museums by day and partying at night.
Moscow started to go wrong pretty much on our first day. The plan to hit the Kremlin was called off when we showed up at the ticket office. The sign clearly said closed on Thursdays and since it happened to be a Thursday we were totally out of luck. We couldn’t even go into Red Square due to preparations for a free concert the next day. Instead, we kept ourselves busy by touring the city streets. We could hit the Kremlin tomorrow before the parade, we thought. After a nice day of wandering the city we headed back to our hostel so we could get to bed early; it would be a long second day.
Before we hit our bunks we asked when the parade started. The receptionist responded, “What parade?”. Crap, no parade, I guess they got rid of those grandiose military parades when they ousted communism. And to make matters worse, she informed us that the Kremlin would also be closed due to the holiday. That’s just awesome. Who could plan a trip to Moscow and totally miss seeing the Kremlin and Red Square?!?
In hopes that everyone was wrong we went back to the Kremlin the next morning to see if there was some way to get in. No dice, and Red Square was still closed but would open up later in the afternoon for the free concert. Since we planned to catch the train later that night the timeline was tight but hopefully doable. On the bright side, they closed down a bunch of the city streets for the festival. Walking down the middle of these huge Moscow roads was actually a lot of fun. What normally was a major throughway was completely deserted. Upon returning back to the Kremlin we saw that Red Square was finally open. Hundreds of people streamed through the gates and into the square. But unfortunately you needed a ticket that we didn’t have, strike three. Finally it was time to leave so we headed for the train station soundly defeated.
The train to St. Petersburg was totally first class. There were nice beds, and they even gave us some free food. Our roommates ended up being a nice young Russian couple. We exchanged a few niceties but it was really too bad that Jodi and I were so tired. We soon found ourselves unable to stay awake. Next stop, St. Petersburg.
I long ago pictured St. Petersburg as a typical communist era city, drab concrete buildings bustling with beet-picking women sporting scarves on their heads. But St. Petersburg wasn’t anything like I imagined. It had a definite European vibe. The architecture was top notch and the site seeing was outstanding. Along with the many churches around the city we also visited the famous Hermitage museum and the Grand Palace in Peterhof. We only had one day at the Hermitage but what a day it was. Arriving before opening we didn’t leave until they literally kicked us out. And we still didn’t see everything that it had to offer. There were Egyptian mummies, Greek statues, and thousands of paintings from artists like Picasso, Monet, and Renoir. A docent helped us escape a near tragedy of missing the area where the most famous painters’ works are displayed. She overheard us talking about skipping the French wing (or whatever it was called) and rushed over to tell us under no uncertain circumstances could we skip that wing. Thank goodness, it was my favorite part of the Hermitage. We could have (and probably should have) spent many days wondering the halls of the Hermitage. The sheer size of their collection was really impressive.
Another highlight of St. Petersburg were the fountains of Peterhof, over 150 fountains help make up the impressive palace grounds. There were more fountains in this one place than I’ve seen in my entire life. Fountains that resemble chessboards, gardens, and even one that looked like an umbrella. Plus hundreds of golden Greek statues adorn many of these fountains. Due to the cost we decided not to actually go into the main palace, instead we just walked the grounds and admired all of its beauty.
We enjoyed our last day in the city and looked forward to a last farewell with our train buddies. But before we could meet them, St. Petersburg had one parting gift for me. When boarding the subway from Peterhof, I suddenly felt like something was missing and upon checking my pockets noticed that my camera was gone. Unbelievable, the very last day of our trip and my camera was stolen. After nine months of travel, one very good pickpocket got the best of me. It really didn’t bother me too much; I downloaded photos recently and I was actually amazed that it had survived that long. We heard so many stories of cameras being stolen that I was sure it would only last a few months before needing to replace it. I had an amazing time in St. Petersburg and cannot wait to get back there again someday.
Most folks seem to think that buying tickets as you go on the Trans-Siberian railway is way too complicated for them. Well, we’re here to tell you it’s not. We traveled from Beijing to Moscow, but buying your tickets the other way around should be the same.
Visas
First of all, you need to get your visas in order. Being on a budget, we always made our way to the nearest embassy rather than paying the extra US$15-30 service fees from guesthouses.
For us, we decided to get our Chinese visa in Vientiane, Laos, and our Russian visa in Hong Kong, China. The Russian visa is by far the trickiest visa to obtain abroad. Russia officially states that you must be able to legally reside in a country for 90 days in order to obtain a visa from within that country. Thus, obtaining the Russian visa within your home country is the easiest option. But, you’ve got to name your dates of entry and departure and they need to be within 90 days of your application. Thus, for most travelers on the road getting a visa from their home country isn’t an option and wasn’t one for us.
Since we’re American, however, we obtained the required 90-day stay upon entering Hong Kong and thus could obtain our Russian visa in Hong Kong. Of course, this is not true for all nationalities so you’ll need to do your research. We also met non-American travelers that obtained their Russian visas from the consulates in Beijing and Shanghai (two cities which internet posters often report as impossible).
Once you figure out where you can acquire your visas, you need to fill out the actual application which is a process in of itself. For the Chinese visa, you need to work out an itinerary in advance. Of course, you don’t need to stick to that routing but it does need to make sense to the consulate officials. You’ll also need to know your first date of entry and departure along with what kind of visa you want. There are several different visa options available. I can’t remember them all, but we chose the double entry with 60 days for each entry and paid US$130 per person. Easy peasy.
For the Russian visa, you’ll need to go through a sponsoring agency. The agency requirement is a hold-over from the old regime and seems more like a minor hurdle than anything else. We used Real Russia for our visa support letter and voucher. Paying roughly US$25, we received our support documents via email within one day. For the visa support documents, you’ll need to know your date of entry and departure along with whether you want single or double entry.
With our visa support documents in hand, we headed off to the Russian consulate in Hong Kong. Most folks applying for a Russian visa have a straightforward application. Americans, however, get the pleasure of completing a five-page complexity-filled form. We needed to list all the countries visited in the past 10 years, past two employers (excluding the current one), university specifics, itinerary specifics, and charity organizations. Whoa, that’s a lot of stuff. Well, our forms had a few gaps but it didn’t seem to matter in the end. Handing over roughly US$60, we received our single-entry, 30-day visa five days later. For those in a time crunch, the Russian consulate also offers next-day service for double the price. That being said, we met some folks that obtained their next-day visas from the Beijing consulate for the same price we paid.
Train tickets
With your visas squared away, it’s time to concentrate on train tickets. We recommend checking out seat61 for great information on the Trans-Siberian railway. It looks like they recently updated all their information, which is a huge bonus to independent travelers.
Since we pre-booked our ger to ger trip in Mongolia, we decided to book our train tickets from Beijing to Ulan Bataar in advance as well. We emailed support-en@cits.com.cn for our train ticket from Beijing to Ulan Bataar, and Mr. Chen Hong replied immediately. Instead of doing a wire transfer and paying extra fees, he allowed us to pay upon arrival in Beijing. For second-class tickets aboard train K23 from Beijing to Ulan Bataar, we paid US$200.
As a side note, we tried to buy tickets at the Beijing train station ourselves (hoping to save some money) but eventually gave up after hours of wandering and being told no trains go to Mongolia. Seriously, one train official walked us to the flight desk. Other folks we met were sent to the Beijing International Hotel (where you can also purchase tickets).
We arrived in Mongolia without onward train tickets as well. After spending several days in Mongolia working out further travel plans, we booked our train onto Irkutsk. With daily trains headed to Irkutsk, it didn’t seem necessary to book far in advance. You can easily purchase your onward tickets at the International Railway Ticketing office in Ulan Bataar but we decided to go through our guesthouse and paid the US$5 booking fee. We paid US$45 per person for a 4-berth, second-class cabin on the slow train from Ulan Bataar to Irkutsk.
While in Mongolia, we learned our travel plans through Russia coincided with a major Russian holiday. We heard most of the country hit the rails during this time, so we became nervous about our train bookings. Luckily, once we entered Russia we could book further travel at any of the Russian train stations. Thus, we booked our tickets from Irkutsk to Moscow at one of our stops along the line from Ulan Bataar to Irkutsk. It really couldn’t get simpler. Of course, we used our trusty Trans-Siberian book to scribble out our request in Cyrillic (the officials don’t speak English) but it was still a fairly simple transaction.
To give you an idea on the time leeway needed, we booked the train from Irkutsk to Moscow five days in advance and the first train we wanted (train 1) wasn’t available. But, with daily trains making the trip from Irkutsk to Moscow we changed our plans by 1 day and purchased tickets aboard train 9 for US$350 in kupe class (a 4-berth cabin). All in all, we paid US$595 total for all of our train tickets. If we chose to travel in third-class (platskartny), the total cost would be one-half to one-third less. If we’d booked our tickets in advance through an agency, we would have paid upwards of US$800.
Many agencies combine tickets and excursions as part of the travel deal. Going the do-it-yourself route saves an incredible amount of money. For our 30-day tour of Mongolia and Russia we spent US$400 per person on tours, lodging, and food (excluding train tickets). If you add in the train tickets, our grand total for a month along the Trans-Siberian railway equaled US$995 per person; an enormous savings compared to the agencies charging US$1800 for comparable travel.
As a recap, we set off from Beijing aboard the Trans-Siberian railway. After a stop in Mongolia, we headed onto Russia. On the first two legs of this journey, we shared our carriage with smugglers. For me smugglers conjure up images of shady characters moving illicit drugs and the like. These folks, however, were more like black marketers just trying to make a buck. They toted everything from tea to car parts.
We left off last time just as our smuggling cabin mate departed the train in Russia. We watched as she carted off all her goods for the outdoor market nearby. Before leaving, however, she filled our storage bin full of little blue and white boxes, the sort of boxes checkbooks use to arrive in. We speculated with the other foreigners about what they might contain. “Oh, gosh—maybe they’re chocolate!” one of our friends exclaimed. After nearly 10 hours sitting around a deserted train station, even the most absurd ideas start to sound reasonable. And thus, we all held hope that our storage bin was full of chocolate. Once our smuggler was long gone, our friends gathered around our cabin as we pulled out the storage bin. With our mouths watering in anticipation of chocolate, we discovered it was just a bunch of tea. What a major let down. Who needs this much tea! There were easily 30 boxes in the bin, not one of them containing chocolate.
Interestingly enough, the tea didn’t make the whole trip with us. We have no idea who entered our cabin or when (a little disconcerting to say the least) but by the time we reached Irkutsk, it was all gone.
When the train arrived in Irkutsk, we immediately caught a cab to the bus station. Several travelers recommended making the trip to Olkhon Island on Lake Baikal and staying at Nikita’s Guesthouse. We didn’t have many days for a stay, but soooooo many folks praised the location that we decided to make the 6-8 hour jaunt anyway. Our trip to Olkhon Island and Nikita’s is one of very few instances on this trip that the hype didn’t meet our expectations. Others hyped it as some sort of paradise. Um no, it’s an island surrounded by a beautiful lake with an ok guesthouse. Sure Nikita’s sports traditional Russian banas, but when you only get to bathe one of four days during your visit the allure of said facilities lessens. The paper-thin walls that allowed us to hear our neighbor’s breathing and the outdoor pit toilet dubbed as a “bio-toilet” didn’t do a whole lot more to convince us our stay was a great value either. However, we could see how the friendliness of staff and camaraderie of fellow travelers could color people’s memories of their trip here.
Shaman rocks of Olkhon Island
If not for Nikita’s, the real reason to head to Olkhon Island is to get a great glimpse of Lake Baikal. Claimed as the largest and deepest freshwater lake, its waters are a fisherman’s dream. Loaded with nearly 30 species of fish, locals eat fish nearly everyday. Not being a huge fish-eater, Chris grumbled at every meal. By our eighth meal of fish, he’d become a little bitter about the cuisine.
Loads of fish in Lake Baikal
Eventually the time came to hit the Trans-Siberian railway again. Like any good train travelers, we picked up some Russian vodka for the long journey. For a little over US$4, we made out with some exceedingly good Russian vodka. Meeting up with our friends in the dining car, we toasted the last leg of our Trans-Siberian journey with a shot of vodka. That first shot was followed by many more over the four day journey.
Having a good time aboard the vodka train
Drinking vodka with friends allowed us a break from our otherwise dismal cabin mate, Mr. Nyet. Russians in general are fairly reserved. Many a traveler told us that after sharing food and drink, their cabin mates warmed up and they had a jolly good time. So when our so called Mr. Nyet entered our compartment we made niceties in the hopes we’d make a new friend. We gave up all hope though when upon asking him his name, he gave us a stern, “Nyet” (that’s No in Russian). Everything from that moment on was “Nyet”. Nyet to our sausages, Nyet to our vodka, Nyet, Nyet, Nyet. And thus, we started to avoid Mr. Nyet entirely.
Mr Nyet and Jodi
Siberia itself wasn’t as we expected. We mistakenly thought it was a barren wasteland, but forests blanketed the landscape. Intermingled among the forests, little villages dotted the hillsides. We enjoyed passing by the rustic Russian villages with their wooden shacks and garden plots. At some of the larger towns, the train stopped for 20 minutes or so, just enough time to jump off onto the platform and restock our goodies. Sellers hawked crayfish, ice cream, beer, instant noodles—but not vodka. Nope, vodka is illegal at the train stations. A little fact we thought quite bizarre aboard the vodka train.
More pictures from our journey on the Trans-Mongolian train and Lake Baikal can be found on Chris’ and Jodi’s respective flickr pages.
After spending three weeks in Mongolia (helping a nomadic family migrate and taking a 12-day tour), it was time to move on. We’d come right off a 9-hour day’s drive back to Ulan Bataar to catch our train, and we were rushing. Thanks to a lengthy currency exchange (try operating in four different currencies!), we nearly missed our train. So, the black residue melting my backpack went totally unnoticed when I pulled it from the taxi and ran toward the train. It wasn’t until we were well on our way that I found it disintegrating right before my eyes. After some good advice by fellow travel bloggers, we always try to win the day. That particular day was won solely on the fact that the battery acid didn’t eat through any of my straps—just a few pockets.
Upon settling into our berth, a middle-aged man approached and chatted us up. I’m always a little leery of overly friendly strangers, even after this much travel. Sure, we’ve met tons of folks that just wanted to talk but I’m in the camp that it’s always good to keep your guard up. Anyway, I eyed this man with suspicion. Eventually, his talkative mood lapsed and he explained the dire straits effecting his family. He had a painting for his grandmother that he desperately wanted to get to her. He hadn’t seen her in x amount of years, and he was afraid she might not live to see his gift. His story was quite compelling, but not enough for us to bite. Flashes of locked up abroad shifted through my head.
Those same flashes circulated during the border crossing into Russia when our cabin mate propositioned us over and over. The train ride up to that point was fairly ordinary. We shared a carriage with several other foreigners and our cabin with a Russian student studying in Mongolia. She taught us a mix of Russian and Mongolian, which was fun. Right before crossing the Mongolian/Russian border, another woman joined our cabin. With crazy hair but the meticulousness of an accountant, she set about taking stock of her inventory. We looked like Kmart stuffed into a 7×4 cell. Purses, jeans, silk coverings, sausages, tea, and shirts littered all the beds. Holy cow, we found ourselves in the middle of a smuggler’s cabin!!
In the .expanse of thirty minutes, she hid everything. It’s one of the best sleight of hands I’ve seen. She stuffed loads of tea boxes into our garbage, behind pillows, and into storage bins. Silk coverings rolled in jeans got buried in the bottom of sports bag. Tampon and Kotex boxes were filled with silk scarves and placed on a small shelf in plain sight. Jeans and shirts got rolled into bags and placed underneath our luggage (despite me pulling them out countless times). And my all-time favorite, sausages got hung from the window, nicely hidden behind the drapes.
A great spot for hiding sausages
The border crossing takes about 10 hours, so we got to know our fellow cabin mate somewhat well. Over our morning coffee, our smuggling friend made small talk while our ideas about smugglers changed. I mean, everyone needs to make a buck somehow. Although we held our ground that we would not take part in her activities, she convinced the Russian student to claim a few purses and other items for her. That was a bad move. When the Russian border guards finally entered, they immediately recognized the smuggler. They laughed and joked with her; it was obvious they knew her. But, they were all business with the Russian student. It didn’t take long for the student to break—and just like that she was pulled off the train.
Tea hidden in what use to be our garbage
Another friend of hers a few doors down also took on some extra items for the smuggler, and she was also pulled off the train. They looked scared. Officers came to our cabin and started looking through things. But, this is the weird thing…. they missed a ton of stuff. I’d say they didn’t find anything that was hidden away. They pulled some cursory items off along with our smuggler but everything else was left (the hidden sausages, silk coverings, tea, etc).
We waited for three hours wondering about their fate until they all returned. The students were no longer their chatty selves. In fact, we never heard another word from them the rest of the trip (24+ hours). The smuggler, in turn, started packing up all her stuff like nothing even happened and exited the train. We’d hope she’d leave behind a sausage or two for us, but no such luck. These were high-commodity goods, afterall.
A long wait at a deserted Russian border station
Stay tuned for more posts on our journey across the Trans-Siberian railway (sans smugglers!).
When planning our trip, the mystique of the Trans-Siberian railway captured Chris’ attention. I was a little less enthused after watching the movie Transsiberian on our flight home from Argentina. Filled with murder and mystery, the movie did little to make me want to rush out and take the Trans-Mongolian train. It was something akin to Open Water for us fellow divers. I quizzed Chris with all sorts of questions—what if we have smugglers in our cabin? what if someone wants us to smuggle something for them? what if we get drugged?!? Chris, in his usual manner, gave me the knowing glance that these were all just rhetorical questions and turned back to his book. I continued to let my imagination roll; this was six months before ever stepping foot on the Trans-Siberian railway, mind you.
So, when we finally stepped foot on the Trans-Mongolian train you might think I was a bundle of nerves—but I wasn’t. We were super excited to finally be setting off on our next adventure. I’d all but forgotten any anxieties over smugglers and what not, which looking back is pretty ironic. Ironic because on two of the three legs of our train ride, smugglers abounded. They’re really nice people, I might add. But, more on that later.
When the day finally came for us to embark on our journey, we set off from Beijing to Ulan Baatar aboard train K23. We’d spent plenty of time zipping around China on their trains, but this one held a different sort of allure—it was a Mongolian train. As it turns out though, it wasn’t much different than the Chinese trains. It had a samovar for dispensing hot water for tea or cooking instant noodles (the meal of choice aboard trains); the provodnitsa looked after her carriage with pride and always kept the bathrooms clean and the samovar fire burning; and the dining car remained elusive.
We settled into our 4-berth, second-class cabin along with an Italian couple. This was their first train ride in Asia, so they were a bit surprised by it all. Even more surprised when they couldn’t find the dining car. Ah, it made us feel like old hands. We offered up some of our instant noodles, but they turned up their noses. Twelve hours later though, they’d purchased their own instant noodles and coffee and seemed to be settling into their predicament.
Instant noodle cart for any hungry traveler
In the berth next to us, two lovely French and German gals tried to bide their time with an obnoxious American. We later ran into these traveling pals on the train from Irkutsk to Moscow and utterly enjoyed tipping back the vodka with them. On this leg though, we made niceties but sort of kept our distance due to the know-it-all American in their berth. We kept our distance for fear we might get dragged into one of his conversations and then by merely being American ourselves be cast in the same light forever. It’s happened before, trust me.
The train ride itself was pretty uneventful until we reached the border town of Erlian. A few kilometers before reaching the border, all sorts of rummaging began. With all the shades drawn, our carriage mates started shifting all sorts of boxes around. We just watched from our cabin perplexed at the number of items exchanging hands. Holy cow, I thought, we’re on the smuggling carriage! Where these boxes came from is beyond us. Where they ended up? Well, we’re going to remain mum on that subject. But boy, that carriage was packed to the gills with boxes getting shifted all over the place. Was it illegal stuff? No, we don’t think so. Toyota filters and other innocuous items were the only things we saw exchanging hands.
The Trans-Mongolian Train K23 to Ulan Bataar
With the goods secured well away from peering eyes, we crossed the border. When crossing the border from China into Mongolia (or vice versa) the bogies need to be changed because Chinese and Mongolian trains operate on different gauges. While this is occurring, passengers can opt to visit the duty free shop or stay aboard the train and watch the bogies get traded out (usually a 4 hour process). As we’ve seen more than one duty-free shop and never bogies being exchanged, we decided to stay onboard. From the best we could tell, each car was unhitched and raised by hydraulics. We watched as the hydraulics lifted up the carriages (including ours) and the bogies were detached and rolled out to be replaced by another set. This process seemed to carry on for quite some time, but we stopped watching after about an hour. I fell swiftly asleep and was only roused now and then when the other passengers returned or the border control guards woke us here and there. I think we finally crossed the border around 2am or so.
Changing the bogies
We awoke the next morning to the vastness of the Gobi Desert. Sand stretched as far as we could see. The first spotting of camel herders and gers peeked everyone’s interest. You’d think we were on some sort of safari the way people exclaimed if they happened to see something except a sea of sand. We passed by seemingly vacant train stations, and spent countless hours staring out the window at the Mongolian landscape, which shifted from desert to steppe.
Nearly vacant train station
We studied up on our Mongolian and practiced it with our train mates. One of the Mongolian mates knew excellent German and so on occasion our German pal, Anita, became a translator. Somewhat like the telephone game, the Mongolian-speaking provodnitsa gave instructions to the German-speaking Mongolian who in turn spoke to the English-speaking German who translated it all for us English-speakers. Unfortunately, the Italians were left out. I spoke broken Spanish to them in the hopes some words were similar; it seemed to work but not without a lot of laughter.
Eventually though our train ride ended; we arrived in Ulan Bataar 30 hours after departing Beijing and set about on our Mongolian adventure. Stay tuned tomorrow for the second leg of our journey on the Trans-Siberian railway from Ulan Bataar to Irkutsk.
