Perhaps a downside of writing a blog is the constant need to come up with content. My plan when I first started this blog was to post every other day and I have just about succeeded in doing that though it can be difficult to come up with something that is interesting every time.
This blog is supposed to be about my book Tommy Tippett, but I have veered well off that track. The truth is I know bugger all about writing so it would be silly to write about it. So I have written about everything else that comes to mind. My stay in Canada, road trips to Disneyland and Australian soldiers on UN Peacekeeping training. The list goes on.
So in the spirit of writing about everything but writing here goes another installment.I had been leading tours all over China for about six months when the opportunity came along to lead a tour on the famed Trans Siberian Express. I worked for a company called Intrepid Travel and they had recently introduced the Trans Siberian to their stable of 'adventure' trips. I jumped at the opportunity.
I met my group at a hotel in Beijing and it was the usual mix of Australian's, Brit's, American's and Canadian's. Oh, and a Kiwi, I always tend to forget them. The first day of the trip is always meet and greet and a get to know you. As the tour leader you give an information briefing to the tour members, collect some dollars as well as information on passports, next of kin, visa's and medical insurance. You then take everyone out to dinner to break the ice.
We have an early morning start and a mini bus picks the group up at the hotel to take the short trip through bustling, early-morning Beijing traffic. On a good day you only have four or five near-miss traffic accidents.
Beijing Central Station is huge. If you have never been to a busy Chinese railway station it is hard to describe the pandemonium and chaos. There are people, livestock and miscellaneous vehicles everywhere. People lie sleeping on the floor of the station, children run in and out of disorderly ques, intinerant workers play cards and argue and you can almost count on an escaped chicken, goat or some other thing with fur or feathers.
The Chinese Government insists that all luggage has to be x-rayed before you can enter the railway station proper so huge lines of pushing and shoving humanity form bottlenecks at the few operating entrances.
After learning some hard lessons about Chinese railway stations and their attendant problems I always advised my tour groups to place their pack in front of them and use it as a battering ram. I also told them that they shouldn't be afraid to use their bulk as the smallest and sweetest looking old Chinese lady will happily trample you underfoot if it means getting in line in front of you.
It was always interesting to watch the reactions of some of my passengers when they were first confronted with a Chinese railway station. Some turned to jelly and wanted to run and hide, others had a look of fear on their face and forged forward. Nice Canadian's usually let everyone, including animals go in front of them so much so that I had to place the Canadian's in front of me so I could keep an eye on them.
Once through the crowded x-ray check, we made our way to the international departure platform which was less congested. We found our train which looked as if had been a part of Mao's Great March. I found our carriage and had to show all the tickets and passports to our conductor, a young Chinese woman. I knew from experience that there was no hurrying to be done here so I just said to the passengers to sit on their packs and smile. Finally we were given the all clear to enter.
There were 12 sleeper compartments to each carriage and in each compartment were four bunk beds. These bunks could be folded up during the day but were usually left down and used as seats. There was storage space under the bottom bunks and in an alcove over the door. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a table that ran between the two beds and for most of the trip it was conjested with everyones junk.
The group decided where they wanted to go so it took a little while to sort out and to decide who got the top bunk and who got the bottom. The facilities on the train were spartan. There was a toilet down each end of the carriage. One was a European style toilet and the other was a squat toilet. The conductor provided hot water for tea and coffee which you had to supply yourself. There was a dining car that was still living in the fifties but you couldn't beat the price a few dollars for a reasonable meal.
But all said and done this was the Trans Siberian Express and we were all about to embark on a journey that would take us from Beijing in China to St Peterburg in Russia a distance of 9,500 kilometres.
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