The first major stop on my trip was Moscow via a short stop-off in Warsaw to change trains. The night train from Cologne was uneventful but I can now say I have visited Berlin. On the Warsaw-Moscow train I met two businessmen, Alexander and Oleg, both heading home. With them I was to share a cabin for the next eighteen hours until our arrival in Moscow the following morning. Oleg spoke a little German so between us we communicated quite well – at least enough for me to convince Oleg I was not a spy.

**Warsaw Central Train Station / Warsaw (MZ) - POLAND**

Now, unbeknownst to me, it is a Russian custom to share food on a long train journey. It was, therefore, with some embarrassment to find that the cabin table had become a smorgasbord when I returned after exploring the train. After crossing the river Bug at the Poland-Belarus border we stopped for a two-hour bogie change in the city of Brest. We had a choice of whether to stay onboard or alight while the work was done. We chose the former and were later joined by a group of vendors to eat and drink the night away; well, until we left Brest. They even sang Belarusian folksongs for us. A most pleasant way to see in my fortieth!

A bogie, for those interested in such things, is the wheel structure under the train carriage. The width (gauge) of a bogie (ergo the gap between the rail tracks) varies between countries. European railways have a (standard) gauge of 1435 mm while Belarus operates the wider (Russian) gauge of 1520 mm.

Moscow has nine train stations that serve long distance routes – each catering for a particular geographical region - that are named after one of the destinations it serves. I arrived via Belorussky railway station – having come via Belarus. I was leaving from Yaroslavsky railway station – its namesake being the city of Yaroslavl 250 km north-east of Moscow.

I had arranged to meet Mathew, the son of a colleague studying in Moscow, at Belorussky station, but he was nowhere to be seen. So I took up an offer from Alexander of a lift to my hotel. Twenty hair-raising minutes later, and more Hail Marys than I care to remember, we pulled up outside my hotel.

**Saint Basil's Cathedral / Moscow (MOS) - RUSSIA**

Moscow felt very European – I even got mistaken for a local on my wanderings around the city. Red Square is impressive by being impressively big. At 24,750 square meters it is flanked on the west by the eastern wall of the Kremlin and Lenin’s Mausoleum. The word Kremlin itself means fortified central complex and many examples can be seen throughout Russia although to most foreigners it is used to mean the seat of the Russian government in Moscow. The first Moscow Fortress was constructed in 1339 out of wood that was replaced by white stone in 1369. The iconic red came in the late 15th century when Tsar Ivan III invited architects from Renaissance Italy to design and build a new wall and who used a red brick common in northern Italy. The eastern side of the square is taken up by the huge GUM shopping centre – a large shopping arcade full of boutique shops and famous Brand stores. Saint Basil’s Cathedral, officially known as the Cathedral of the Intercession of the Most Holy Theotokos on the Moat, or Pokrovsky Cathedral for short, lies on the southern side of the square. Built between 1555 and 1561 it was originally known as Trinity Cathedral that contained eight chapels arranged around a ninth. In 1588 a tenth chapel was built to house the remains of Basil the Holy Fool – from whom it now takes its name. It has twice been renovated. What you see today is how it has looked following its second refit in 1683.

To celebrate my birthday I visited the famous Bolshoi theatre to watch the Bolshoi Opera perform Giacomo Puccini’s Turandot. Puccini died before finishing the opera in 1924 but was later completed by Franco Alfano – an Italian contemporary of Puccini – and premiered in 1926. Turandot is best known for its aria Nessun dorma – made famous to the non-operatic world by Luciano Pavarotti in the early 1990s. The Bolshoi Ballet and Bolshoi Opera are among the oldest and best known ballet and opera companies in the world. The company that was to become the Bolshoi Theatre was formed in 1776 but it wasn’t until 1825 that the name Bolshoi appeared – with the opening of the current building we know today.

The following day I left Moscow. A late evening departure meant a wait at Yaroslavsky station. I spent the time people watching. There was a real mishmash of people travelling to such far-away places as Astana (Kazakhstan) and Ulaanbaatar (Mongolia). My train, called the ‘Rossiya’, left on time at 23:45. We were allowed to board thirty-minutes before departure. On my walk to the platform I had to pinch myself to make sure I was really ‘here’ at the start of the Trans-Siberian and about to fulfil a wish to travel the iconic route. With a length of 9,928 km and a journey time of seven-days, crossing eight time zones, it is the longest operating scheduled passenger train service in the world.

**The Rossiya @ Perm II Railway Station / Perm (PER) - RUSSIA**

Being close to midnight the train was artificially lit. The weather was dry and mild. While people scuttled to their carriages music was being aired over loudspeakers. My cabin was in carriage 17 located to the rear of the train. It consisted of two beds separated by a collapsible table below the window. Luggage was to be stored either in the overhead shelf or below the bed. Just above the door was a small television. Bedding was provided which, apart from as much hot water as you wanted provided by the communal samovar, was the only other freebee.

The term Trans-Siberian Railway, incidentally, does not refer to a specific train or route but rather the network of lines that serve various destinations in the far east – within and outside Russia. Over the years it has been loosely used to refer to the Moscow-Vladivostok line.

The train consisted of eighteen carriages plus a restaurant car and locomotive. Each carriage was served to by two attendants. The two on my carriage were Sergei and Stanislava. Sergei greeted me when I boarded in Moscow. He spoke no English but, like Oleg, he did speak enough German for us to communicate. Stanislava spoke only Russian. I found both of them a little cold at first but warmed to them, and they to me, over the course of the journey.

**Sergei / Chernyshevsk (ZAB) - RUSSIA**

Although there was an onboard restaurant the food was as delectable as primordial soup. I went all-inclusive to be certain of at least one meal each day. I need not have worried as most stations had vendors peddling provisions. I was going to buy some smoked omul (a fish native to Lake Baikal) at Irkutsk but Sergei told me to wait until the next stop where it is caught and smoked. I never got to try it as we did not stop at the next stop because no-one was boarding or alighting there. Well gee, thanks Sergei!

Lake Baikal is vast – 31,722 square kilometres vast. It is the oldest lake in the world and one of the cleanest. It took the train a good five hours to traverse its southern banks before it turned inland towards Ulan-Ude. With a maximum depth of 1,642 meters, it is also the largest freshwater lake in the world. The surface of the lake sits at 455.5 m above sea level while the bottom of the lake sits at 1,186 m below sea level. It was while negotiating the southern rim of the lake that I met Graham and Sue who lived in Helmshore – a village just south of Accrington in Lancashire; and not far from where I used to live. They were also doing the Trans-Siberian but stopped off for a couple of days in Yekaterinburg and Irkutsk. From Vladivostok they were heading to Japan on the same ferry I was taking to South Korea.

Now, I bet you are thinking ‘this is all very interesting but what I really want to know is how are the time zones handled to make sure there is no confusion around timetables?’ Well, it is quite simple, even if a bit disorientating. All trains and train stations in Russia operate on Moscow time. So, when you look at your watch, say at Irkutsk station, and it reads 10:55, the clock under which you are standing will be displaying 05:55. Now you know.

Over the course of the seven-day journey I shared my cabin with 3 others – all were heading home. Alexander, a young IT technician from Novosibirsk, boarded in the city of Omsk two days in. Whilst showing me his recent diving photos from his Egyptian honeymoon it occurred to me how we in the UK take the sea for granted – being no further than 113 km (give or take) from the sea at any inland point. Novosibirsk must, conservatively, be at least 2,500 km. Answers on a postcard please. Maxim was a strange character. Like Alexander his English was good enough to converse with. His home was the town of Tulun. It was difficult to fully understand what he did for a living although I got the impression it was to do with metals. He was very keen to show off his American branded attire. I guess Russians are no different to anyone else in wanting to show-off their success. That said, the real Russia, according to Maxim, only begins east of the Ural Mountains – the mountain range acting as both a geographical and economic divide between European Russia (to the west) and Siberian Russia (to the east). He was very disparaging of European Russians. “They are not Russian,” he told me over a cup of tea. “Siberia,” he said, “holds most fossil fuel reserves and minerals but we see none of the wealth. That, goes direct to Moscow.” Point made, Maxim. Yuri, from Vladivostok, spoke practically no English which made our journey from Ulan-Ude an interesting one. He worked in the fish industry. (I was glad he was not carrying any samples). I used a small inflatable globe I was carrying to aid me when I explained my journey. Puzzled, he asked, with a hand-gesture of a plane taking off/landing, why I did not fly. My answer, that I had wanted to travel this iconic route, was of bemusement to him. I guess that to him, and most of those that travel the Trans-Siberian, the service is a day-to-day practicality used out of a need not pleasure. Yuri, it turned out (using my globe), was originally from somewhere (it was a small globe) in the very north of Siberia.

Vladivostok has nothing much to write home about. I had just one day there and the constant drizzle of rain – the type that gets under your skin – made it feel even more grim and miserable. After collecting my ferry ticket from the office at the ferry terminal, that happened to be next to the train station, I went in search of the more interesting places in the city, as recommended in my Trans-Siberian guidebook. Out of the few recommended attractions only the Fortress museum was open. The fortress once watched over the Soviet Pacific Fleet when the city was not open to visitors – Soviet and non-Soviet alike. Now it is a museum with neglected missiles and their transporters as its main attraction. I had also wanted to see Russky Bridge but given the worsening weather and visibility I decided I would go and check in. I was keen to have a proper hot shower – the first since Moscow – and in the end I had two.

It was a twenty-two-hour overnight crossing from Vladivostok to the port of Donghae in South Korea. From Donghae the ferry (called the Eastern Dream) went on to Sakaiminato in Japan. It is surprising how quickly you can make friends when in the same boat, so to speak. On boarding I met up with Graham and Susan and together we got to know Alison and George from Australia. They had also travelled the Trans-Siberian and were now heading to Japan. We also met a young lady from Seoul called Sora who was keen to show off her spoken English and Manchester United badge. She was heading home to Seoul after studying in Moscow – also via the Trans-Siberian. Sora and I each had a bunk in an economy dormitory with shared bathroom facilities. The others had reserved private cabins. We agreed to meet later for a drink and then dinner. Over dinner the sea quickly turned. And so did George. I had never seen someone, within the blink of an eye, turn as white as a ghost before. One minute he looked fine. The next like death awakened. Without a word, he got up from his chair and left. Soon after we all removed ourselves from the restaurant to our beds. I, thankfully, was unaffected – quite fortunate given my next leg was on a cargo ship across the Pacific – and spent the rest of the evening relaxing on my bunk. It was surprisingly comfortable and quiet apart from that hum and vibration you get onboard a ship.

**Vladivostok Ferry Terminal / Vladivostok (PRI) - RUSSIA**

Meeting Sora was a fortunate stroke of serendipity. Her father was to meet her in Donghae and he offered me a lift to Seoul. We arrived in Donghae early morning and, after saying goodbye to Graham, Susan, George and Alison, I joined Sora and her father for the journey west to Seoul.

In Seoul I stayed at a hostel called Kpopstay – a name derived from the abbreviation K-pop. K-pop, for those not in the know, is shorthand for Korean popular music. Think Korean boy/girl bands and you’ll have a good idea of the kind of people that flock to Kpopstay. The owner, a young man in his late twenties called Mark Woo, could himself have stepped out of a boy band – he certainly had his own following of love-struck teenage girls vying for a selfie with him. I asked a few of them why, “he very handsome,” was their reply. Most of my first evening was spent with the few guests of similar age to myself in Hongdae (downtown Seoul) in search of a restaurant. I use the words ‘most’ and ‘search’ quite literally for there is nothing worse than trying to find an eatery with a mix of strangers. It took us two-hours to find a place we all agreed on that, unsurprisingly, tasted bland. Over dinner I asked one of our group why she was visiting Korea. “Big Ben, Big Ben” she said. Confused, I asked her if she meant Big Ben, as in the bell in the Clock Tower of the Palace of Westminster. “No. Big Ben” she said again, seeming a little distraught that I had no idea, which was the case. It turned out she meant the very successful K-pop boy band BigBang (yes that is how it is spelt).

Whilst in Seoul I visited Changgyeong Palace and a tea shop along the famous Insadong-gil. I also spent a day with Sora who showed me the only Starbucks in the world where the main outside signage is not written in English. The reason for this being due to a local by-law that requires all store signs in the Insadong area to be written in Hangul (the Korean alphabet) because the area is regarded as a traditional neighbourhood of Seoul. On my final day, before heading south to the port city of Busan, I visited the Joint Security Area (JSA). The JSA is the only place along the Korean Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) where the military of the North and South Koreas stand face-to-face. The DMZ is a four-kilometre-wide strip of land that separates the two countries and marks the front-line of the Korean War as at the signing of the 1953 Armistice Agreement. The iconic blue huts that cross the demarcation line are used for meetings between the two Koreas. The middle hut is also used by both sides to allow tourists to step between the two Koreas – albeit in a very controlled way. The peace here felt uncomfortable and surreal. If you look closely enough you will find evidence of this uneasiness such as the roads connecting the JSA to the wider South Korean network being laden with explosives designed to be used to slow down the advance of an invading force. Back in Seoul I caught the express bus to the city of Busan where I was to board the Hanjin Geneva three-days later.

**Someone to Watch Over Me / Joint Security Area (DMZ) - SOUTH KOREA**

My hotel, the Elysee, was clean, cheap and quite central. I spent my time there by exploring the city and surrounding area. Of note was the Buddhist Beomeosa Temple situated on the slopes of mountain Geumjeongsan just outside Busan. The base of the mountain could be reached by metro and an uphill walk or short bus ride to the temple. I had planned to walk but was befriended by a Korean called Mr Oh. He and his young family were also on their way to the temple. They recommended I go by bus as it was quite a climb. The temple itself was interesting and certainly worth a visit. Chang-Soek (aka Mr Ho) took it upon himself to act as my guide. Along with his wife and two sons it made for an enjoyable morning that was topped off by an unexpected free meal provided by the monks. After lunch we headed back to the metro station. This time by foot. It was steep. The glare of the sun did not help and when we left the shade of the trees Mrs Ho put on a pair of what I can only describe as arm socks which puzzled me. It turns out that Koreans are not fans of tanned skin. Pale features is the way to go. They found it funny when I sought out the sun.

Back in Busan I said farewell to Mrs Ho and the children. Chang-Soek decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with me. He treated me to some Seed Hotteok – a small dense pancake filled with a sweet mixture that included locally grown nuts. We then visited the 120-meter-high Busan Tower for a panoramic view of the city. Somehow Chang-Soek convinced the ticket seller he was acting as a city ambassador showing me the sights and got in for free. We rounded-off the day by going to what he referred to as a “special restaurant.” I was a worried that special meant eating Kegogi (dog meat) – a delicacy in Korea. He reassured me it was not.

My second day was spent wondering the city centre and took a ride on the Busan hop-on hop-off sight-seeing bus. Later that afternoon I met a German couple and we agreed to meet up for dinner. We later went for a tea at a tea shop close to the hotel that seemed to be designed for Smurfs. Everything down to the teacups and chairs were tiny and made Stephan, who must have been at least 6-foot tall, look quite comical. I retired relatively early that night as the following day I was to embark on the first of two ocean crossings.

Around the World in 63 Days / Part 1

Around the World in 63 Days / Part 2

Seashells and Wedding Bells