There are few journeys on Earth as epic, as romanticized, and as long as the Trans-Siberian Railway. Stretching approximately 4,735 miles from Moscow, through Mongolia, and eventually on to Beijing in a bout 7 days, it is the longest continuous railway line in the world – steel ribbons stitching together forests, steppes, and rural communities throughout the frozen tundra. For over a century, this route has been the stuff of legend: a passage for exiles, adventurers, and travelers who thought, “You know what sounds fun? A week on a train.” Well, that’s exactly what I thought. I think the idea originally popped into my head because of the recent film at the time by Brad Andersen, “TransSiberian”. A week long train ride sounded really unique. You do have the option to get on/off, which if I did it again I would definitely do, as the idea of walking around these small towns in the middle of frozen nowhere and to see the kinds of people who live there would be fascinating; but alas, I had limited time, so I did the direct ride. It gave me the chance to quietly sit for hours staring out into a lot of white empty space with the occasional forest and town passing by. I read and interacted with a lot of interesting people who came and went, including the train attendants who were all very nice. This was an experience that reminds me that not every journey needs to be a whirlwind from one sight to the next. Sometimes the point can be to just sit in contemplation, have nowhere to be, and soak in the surroundings.
A funny anecdote about the photo above: I was hanging out with Gary and Lena in the restaurant cart and these two Russians walk in with vodka, and apparently in Russia if you are offered vodka it is rude to decline. So after this wild time in the cart, which I won’t go into, I stumbled back to my room only to discover it was locked. I kept pulling and pulling. The train attendants came over and asked what I was doing. I insisted it was my room, a few more attendants came over to see what the issue was, they insisted it was not my room. A lot of words being spoken with little comprehension on either side. Eventually one of the attendants causally walked over to the next room and effortlessly slid open the door to my actual room. I hung my head in embarrassment and offered an abundance of apologies. All the attendants just exhaled in exasperation and called me something in Chinese and walked off.
