Alotta Terra-Cotta

We decided to make our own way to see the famous terra-cotta warriors and jumped onboard one of the independent mini buses parked at the train station. The vehicle was already full of passengers and ready to depart. The guy who collected our money made seats available for the three of us (me, Ali and Matt) and then we immediately set off. Like all public transport in China, this bus was extremely old and dirty looking. Everyone was squashed with limited space to move or breathe which is why I was amazed at the chain of events that were to follow. The drivers assistant who was collecting the money from passengers proceeded to pick up additional travelers along the way. And not just people, but several large boxes of merchandise too. The bus kept stopping to allow more people on. Just when I thought he couldn't possibly squeeze another person or package onboard, he'd let on another six people and a large miscellaneous parcel - usually while the bus was still moving. There's no way he was going to miss the opportunity of making another 2 yuen. It was money in his pocket. I managed to survive by hanging out of the window. The moneyman even put boxes of merchandise on my lap until it was time for their delivery further down the road. When we finally arrived at our destination, the doors swung open and everyone scrambled to get out. The people of China aren't very civilized.

Emperor Qin Shihuang's terra-cotta museum was opened to the public in 1979. It's one of the largest on-site museums in the world. I was dumbfounded by what I saw. The museum consists of three pits which house approximately 6000 life-sized terra-cotta warriors and horses. They were built thousands of years ago to protect the Emperor in his after life and each one is slightly different from the next. The terra-cotta warriors were accidentally discovered by farmers while digging a well. No one knows why this site became buried or how it was even kept a secret for so long. The museum is essentially 3 huge structures that cover and protect each pit. This not only enables tourists to visit them but allows archaeologists to continue their work in a controlled environment. Apparently they have stopped unearthing more until they have developed better preservation technology. As we left the museum Ali rubbed her hands with excitement. It was another opportunity for her to practice bartering skills with the market people as she bargained for a miniature terra-cotta warrior. She does enjoy a good barter.

When we returned to the hostel we were surprised to see that Patrick and the two guys form England had checked in (we met them in Beijing). We sat in the bar and listened to each others travel stories in the evening. Patrick even played the guitar. Until he snapped the second string which made it impossible to play (although he did try unfortunately).

Master Squatter

We arrived in Xi'ian at 3:00 in the morning where we were picked up at the station by a girl from the hostel. Fortunately we booked ahead and asked them to meet us at the station so that we could be taken directly to the hostel. It was reassuring to know that we didn't have to hike the streets with our backpacks getting lost in the early hours of the morning. The girl from the hostel asked us questions about our trip but I struggled to keep my eyes open and stay focused. As soon as we got to the hostel I went to bed.

I woke up at about 10:00 in the morning but didn't feel too good. In addition to the never-ending cold that I had picked up in Beijing, it seems I have an extremely upset stomach too. After several trips to the bathroom within a 10 minute period I realise that I have finally mastered the squatting technique but regret eating the nasty food that was prepared for us on the train. I dragged myself to the nearby areas in the city and noticed subtle similarities between Xi'an and Beijing - smog, over-population, excellent street food (including chicken on a stick, duck pancakes, fried octopus etc.), high humidity and beggars of all kinds. Xi'an however, seemed to attract the younger generation and looked a little 'trendier' than the nation's capital. Our hostel overlooked one of the two large bell towers in the city on the square below. I wanted to learn more about it but didn't have the energy. Especially after our exhausting experience trying to get tickets to Shanghai. It took us two hours to wait in line only to be told that they had nothing available on the date that we wanted to leave. Luckily a helpful guy, who doesn't speak English, communicated to us that we could take the coach to Shanghai instead. We happily follow him to the coach station just across the square and attempted to buy our tickets. It was a blessing in disguise. Because the coach goes directly straight (instead of curving around the country like the train) we will get there even quicker. The coach is also a 'sleeper coach' which means we will have a bed for the 13 hour overnight journey. Having sorted that out, I went back to bed for the rest of the day.

Trouble on the Train

Ali, Matt and I arrived in Ping Yao at 7:00 in the morning and were confronted by lots of hostel and restaurant touts. We headed straight for the old city which is surrounded by a completely intact 6km Ming Dynasty wall (claimed to be the last remaining in China). Within these walls we found ancient temples and courtyard houses. Antique shops lined the many small cobbled streets were we spent the early hours of the day just wandering around. We stumbled across Wen Tao, the master of Jian Yi Yuan Garden and the ancient art of paper cutting. We all purchased some art and I took a photograph of the artist in her gallery-like shop. After buying a book on Chinese paper cutting only days earlier in Beijing, it was nice to see actual pieces being cut by a master. It was unbelievably hot today. We met Yonghong, the annoying woman who tried to sell us a room at her hotel at the station earlier this morning. She finally persuaded us to come in for tea. We met her husband Jipu who peeled a pear for each of us. I don't usually like pears, but this one was particularly good. Two hours later we were still sitting at their table chatting and eating Yonghong's delicious home cooked food. She made Shui Jianbao (fried pork-filled bread) and fried beef with potato. Yonghong and Jipu were extremely helpful to us and in return we offered them some helpful tips on how to get their hotel noticed and published in guide books.

There were so many people transporting merchandise and bulky belongings. I saw pedicabs piled high with boxes, building materials and even furniture. People on bikes managed to balance their steering as they carried towering tiers of shoe boxes tied together with string. We couldn't believe our eyes when a rickshaw cycled towards us with the biggest bale of hay attached to the back of it. It was so big that it almost touched the sides of the walls. We dived out of the way to avoid being trampled. He wasn't going to stop for anything.

We sat in the stifling station for two hours as we waited for our train to arrive. Ali went to try and upgrade our tickets from standing (yes... standing) to 'hard sleeper' (soft-sleeper is out of the question). She returns. No joy. Hopefully we can upgrade on the train. Ali then left the station to try and wash her feet with a bottle of water outside. I can't remember if I've written about this before but the amount of people starring at us is unbelievable. It's almost like we're aliens from another planet. You'd think they had never seen white people before. I used to just smile back at them but now I'm getting a little tired of it.

So we finally get up from our sticky seats in the fly ridden waiting room that reeks of poo. Me and Matt get first position in the queue at the departure gate so that we can negotiate a better seat on the train (we were told this is the way to get beds or soft seats on the train if none where available at the ticket office). Just before we went through the departure gate, we were approached by a man who claimed to work for the trains. He offered us an upgrade on all our tickets. We 'semi-agreed' keeping our wits about us and let him lead us down the platform away from all the other people. Not quite sure what was about to happen next, he asked us for "souvenir coins" from other countries. We all chipped in (except me because I threw all mine away as they weren't worth much and started to weigh me down). Just minutes later the train pulls in to the station. As the windows on the train passed by, nothing but fear ran through me. The amount of people hanging out of the window was alarming. There wasn't enough space for them to stand never mind sit. Once the train stopped, our friend escorts us to what looks like the restaurant carriage and started bargaining with the attendant. With what looks like not much success he continues to usher us down to the next carriage along - one of the dangerously over-occupied ones. As I walk along the side of the carriage, trying not to look at the hundreds of starring faces out of the window, I am welcomed by the throwing of cans out of the windows above. A little nervous about the next 13 hours of my life, I stepped up onto the carriage and followed Ali who squeezed her way along the car. It took us about 10 minutes to walk the short length of the carriage but it was well worth the effort. Turns out that our friend managed to get us seats in the restaurant car after all. We were allocated a whole table just for us and two meals for only 40rmb extra (about 1.75 pounds). It's not perfect (100% satisfaction would have been a sleeper carriage) but it's much better than what we would have had to deal with. Once we got settled I turned around to see what life was like in the other carriages. Their little round faces where all squashed up against the door looking through the glass at us in pure envy. We weren't the only ones who managed to buy our way into more humane conditions - several other wealthy youngsters knew about this corrupt operation and took advantage of it. There was a mixed crowd in the carriage. Most looked poor, a few were rich kids, and the rest seemed to be train staff and attendants or officials. I put my head on the table to try and get some sleep. With some luck I'll wake up and we'll be in Xi'an!

...I thought that was going to be the ending for today's entry. I was wrong. Just minutes after I put the pen down and my journal away, a guy who was being detained at the end of our carriage for bad behavior just leapt up and smashed one of the beer bottles across the table in an attempt to seriously hurt if not kill one of the 6 officials who were keeping him under control. He had previously been told to leave his seat (we figured it was because he wasn't supposed to be in this "special carriage") but for some reason resisted the officials attempts to remove him. They finally sat him down at the end of the carriage but he still kept trying to escape. It wasn't until he reached for the bottle and then 'bang, bang, smash' when I realised that he must have done something seriously wrong to risk murder charges for an escape. They tied him up at the end of the carriage with belts and rope. I had to walk past him to go to the bathroom at one point. I stepped over him with caution. I was sure he was going wriggle towards me and bite. I think it might be wise to stay awake tonight.

Copy, Post, Train

Today was a rather lazy one. My cold hasn't improved so it kept me out of mischief. We photocopied 160 pages from the guide book that we borrowed from the hostel for just under a pound. Brilliant! We then went to the post office to mail some books that I had purchased back home. This post office is one of the most efficient I have ever seen. Although they examine the entire contents of your package, they pack it all safely and quickly in a box and secure it well. I wish all post offices around the world were like this. Me, Ali and Matt take a cab to the train station. Next stop - Ping Yao.

Under the Weather

We spent the first four hours of the day walking around the city looking for a guide book on China to help us throughout the next six weeks. For some strange reason, they have every guide book except the one for China. I wasn't prepared to waste a moment longer looking for it and suggested that we take a cab to the temple of heaven. We could photocopy parts of the guide book that we need at the hostel. I developed a cold yesterday and unfortunately it's worse today so I had very little patience. Before jumping in a cab we visited the famous silk market nearby where you can find cheap shirts and just about anything made in China. The 5 storey building was full of fake designer clothing and made to measure suit companies. All the shop owners shouted "hello" as I walked by hoping to get our attention. One women even tried to tempt me with her cashmere sweaters. I said "Are you insane? It's 100 degrees outside and you're selling jumpers?". We catch a cab and go straight to the grounds of the temple. I was a little under the weather so I wasn't too enthusiastic and felt sorry for Ali who had to put up with my moaning. The gounds consisted of temples and gardens - each with a unique history, purpose and story. The one I enjoyed the most was the wall of whispers which was a perfectly round wall surrounding one of the temples. You could whisper something close to the wall and the sound supposedly travels all the way around so that someone else can hear it if they put their ear next to the wall. We tested and it worked.

Today I really felt bad a didn't write much. I suffered through dinner with some of our room mates Barbarah, Phil and Matt before excusing myself early. I think it's ridiculous how we haven't found a cure for the common cold.

Climbing the Great Wall

7:30 in the morning and I'm crushed up against the window in the back seat of the car. I'm being driven to a remote part of the great wall of China in an area called Simatai. I decided to wake up at 5:30 this morning in order to avoid the rush and be the first one in the shower. Needless to say, I'm a little tired and restless. Half way through the three hour journey, I scribbled a sign consisting of a picture of a man followed by the letters "WC" and communicated to the Chinese driver that I was in urgent need of a toilet. It worked a treat and before you know it he stopped and let us all out (me, Paddy, Ali and Matt). Just over an hour later we finally arrived at the foot of a hill. We began our ascent up to the starting point of our 10k "walk" along the great wall. Lets just say that 'climb' is a better and more accurate description than 'walk'. At one point I was almost vertically clinging onto the steep slope of one of the towers. Regardless of the amount of times I have seen the great wall of China in pictures, it took me by surprise. It wasn't until I had walked up and down, from tower to tower, looking at the hundreds of miles of wall ahead of me when I started to grasp the grandeur, scale and reality of the project.
After 5k I was absolutely exhausted. Because of it's extremely defensive steep slopes hardly any tourists visited this part of the wall. I liked this aspect
although at several points along the wall I questioned whether I would make it to the other end. The views from the wall were incredible - 360 degrees of dramatic mountains and nothing more. It was hard to beleive we were actually there. It felt surreal. At the end of our walk there was an option to Ariel glide down through a small canyon instead of walking the last 1/2k. We both decided that would be a thrilling experience and I told Ali to wait until I had finished my ice lolly. Seconds later, I turned around and Ali was already being tied up with straps and wires getting ready to go. Off she went gliding along the wire hundreds of feet above the river below. I didn't even get to say "have a nice glide". I didn't get to finish my lolly either. I was strapped up almost immediately after Ali's swift departure and was told to "hold on tight" just before I pushed myself off the cliff edge. Safely at the other end we had our harnesses removed and then taken by boat to the meeting point where we met Paddy and Matt patiently waiting (we separated about 10 minutes into the walk because me and Ali kept stopping to take photos).

More to Peking than just Duck

Today was a great day for a sightseeing blast of Beijing - sunny, warm and not a cloud in the sky. Ali, Matt and I headed straight for Tian'anmen square which leads into the forbidden city. "An imperial solution to an everyday problem" Rodger Moore explains as I listen to him describe the three-tier terrace on my audio guide. The Forbidden city is essentially a huge walled area containing hundreds of buildings,
palaces and temples. I stood on the terrace of the Emperors private residence where he slept and worked during the Ming and Ching dynasties. It wasn't difficult to imagine the emperor sitting on his throne wrapped in robes looking out across his
land. There was lots of construction work being carried out - I assume they want to get the whole place restored and finished before the 2008 Olympics. We walked up a steep hill which was part of the gardens behind the forbidden city. On top of the hill there was a temple which offered great views of the city. On the way back down we stopped for lunch at a small restaurant. I was amazed at the amount of people who were starring at us. I checked in case I had developed a third eye or something. I'm assuming these people are tourists from rural parts of the country. Wherever they're from they obviously don't see westerners very often. As we walked along the streets in the less developed areas I noticed public exercise equipment on the side of the road. It all looked relatively new so it must be a recent development to enable poorer communities to keep in shape. It looked like an adult playground. Of course Ali and I did a quick workout using the cross-trainer. We lasted all of 3 minutes and got bored. I enjoyed watching the old men on the streets playing all kinds of games which I hadn't seen before. I wondered how they all met. Do they schedule these gaming events? I saw the first Starbuck's in China and of course had to make a stop. Unfortunately they didn't seem to have a clue how to operate the equipment and got tired of waiting. We accidentally stumbled upon a thriving area around a street known as "Lotus Lane". This place was full of cosy bars with roof terraces and restaurants. We stopped off for a drink before making our way back. Throat hurts from all the smog. Bartered with street vendors again. Starting to understand the logic and getting better at it.

Dinner time soon caught up with us and realised that a trip to Beijing wouldn't be complete without a Peking Duck set meal for one. It was absolutely delicious but I have to be honest and say that it tasted exactly the same as the Marks & Spencer's version which I have had many times before in Newcastle. The only difference here is that they don't shred the meat - just slice it in a special way so that the crispy skin stays with each slice. These ducks are specially raised on a diet of grain and soy beans. To prepare the dish, the cook pumps air under the bird's skin to produce a smooth surface, which is then coated with sugar. Roasting the duck in a special wood-burning stove makes the skin lacquer-red and crispy, and the meat tender (I read this in a book somewhere).

Looked at where we had walked today. Not very far in relation to the whole city. Beijing is huge!!! One of the drawbacks of this trip is that we never get to stay in one place long enough to really let it all sink in. I'm pretty sure that when I return home, I will look at all my photos in disbelief that I was actually there. I know I'm going to be upset when I leave Beijing knowing that I only saw such a small part of the city but I have to keep reminding myself that we can't see everything and to be grateful for things that I am seeing.

Ricksaw Robbers

It seems 'cutlery day' has been replaced with 'chopstick day' and it's not just on a Friday! This morning we had breakfast at another restaurant and made complete pigs out of ourselves for less than 2 pounds and the food was amazing. I'm wondering if I'll ever tire of Chinese cuisine. I drank coconut juice for the first time and loved it.

Woke up this morning with the intention of finding a cheap internet cafe to spend the whole day catching up with my blog. Found a place that was extremely cheap but painfully slow and even had difficulties accessing most of my accounts. I demanded my money back for unused time and carried on in search of faster internet. Not finding a reasonably priced cafe, we decided to walk to the Beijing foreign languages bookstore which was recommended to us. As usual we were walking targets for rickshaws, beggars and people selling all kinds of useless objects. We finally give in to a nice relaxing rickshaw ride through the city after negotiating a fee of "3" (indicated by the showing of three fingers). We were instructed to ride seperately so Ali rode with him, and I with rickshaw driver #2 (who appeared out of no where). At the end of the very short ride, no where close to where we wanted to be, the drivers asked for their　money. I pulled out 3 yuen and he shook his head indicating what I thought was 30 not 3. Unhappy about the missunderstanding I pull out 30 and offer it to them. Again, they shake their heads and #2 pulls out a nice little laminated card with a price list on it. He points the top price which reads "city tour 300Y". I laughed in his face and said "there is no way I'm giving you 300Y for a 3 minute rickshaw ride". I gave him 50 and walked away. Ali more bravely gave her driver 20 and ran.

We walked around the many hutongs of Beijing (side streets and alleys) which were packed with small shops offering all kinds of different things. Everything from 3 pound pairs of jeans to roast Peking duck (Peking meaning Beijing) and mini toffee apples on a stick. It was amusing walking down one particular street when I was shouted at by the individual shop owners in an attempt to sell me something. One young shopkeeper shouted to me "come in, come in... everyhting 10 yuan... no, wait... for you, everything free because your beutiful". I laughed and continued to enjoy my stick of meat (not quite sure what type of meat it is though).

We walked past Tian'namen square and the forbidden city admiring all kinds of interesting people on the way. One couple where playing badmington on the street, one woman was flying a kite while further on in a recessed square, two old ladies were dancing hand in hand while their friends sang songs. Everyone is friendly here and welcoming to tourists (even if they do spit or clear their nose right in front of you every five minutes). Walking around the city I am constantly reminded of what first attrracted me to this incredible counrty. China is so rich in culture and history and the people here are extremely high spirited.

Just signed up for the great wall trip on Monday. Starting the countdown to my next big landmark!!!

Our First Day in Beijing

After agreeing that following Matt to a smaller, less popular hostel was a good idea (to avoid staying with the American from Arkansas) we left the train station and started walking. As I navigated the three of us through Beijing towards the hostel, I couldn't rid my face of the huge smile that was stretched accross it. It was sunny and warm and the city was bustling. Street vendors selling sliced pineapple on sticks and all kinds of fried food shouting "hello" as we walk by (the only English word they seem to know in a desperate attempt to get westerners attention). Rickshaws ride past us trying to get our business and hotel touts trip over themselves trying to get near us. I think the huge bags on our backs were an obvious indication that we were travelers in need of a place to stay. We stood out and I liked it. I really felt like an adventurer. Such a culture shock, so much neon and noise - I'm seeing it all but it's just not quite registering yet.

We find the hostel, which is just 5 minutes walk from Tian'anmen Square. It's 40rmb which is under 3 pounds a night - grotty but cosy, the hostel has everything we need from food to laundry service and internet. They even have cheap sightseeing tours available. Everyone that we met on the train had arranged to meet at our hostel at 7:00pm for dinner and drinks. I noticed conveniently situated accross the busy main street that there was a nice looking restaurant which we all decided to try. The food was amazing and only cost 2 pounds per person. I have a feeling I might enjoy my time in China more than I thought. I dropped my chopsticks on the floor by accident and jokingly asked Benita how clean she thought the floor was. She accurately replied with "not very". Less than a few seconds later, one of the respectable looking women from the table opposite made a horrible 'hackling' noise before spitting on the floor. My jaw dropped as we all looked in horror.

A few strange things about this restaurant: 1) Our waitress asked for the money up front by saying "pay now". 2) They have no toilets - the nearest one was simply "outside". Big steaming dishes with dumplings are popular with the locals and arrive at our table in giant wooden steaming dishes. In addition to the dumps, we all picked a main dish and shared. This worked out to be a lot of food. Maybe a little too much food. We were all stuffed and remember laughing at the mounds of food still left on the table as we stood up to leave. I waved goodbye to 'spitty lady' as we left the restaurant. The filthy woman. Whilst I was walking along the busy street I was approached by one of the many beggars. One desperate woman grabbed on to my shirt and wouldn't let go. I kept walking shaking my head and saying "no", but still she clung onto me with one hand while shaking an empty cup in another. I was practically dragging her at one point. I have never experienced anything quite like this before. It was a real eye opener.

From the restaurant we made our way to a bar which was a short taxi ride away (after taking the subway to the wrong station). The bar was like any other and in fact reminded me of a few bars in Manchester. I had a great night enjoying the good company. Banita told me and Ali that we should visit them in Australia when we get there. I danced on a table for a short while which was a good indication that it was time to go home.

Train to Beijing

6:00am - Just picked up our wake up call and I reluctantly crawled to the shower. Upset at the fact that we have a lovely bed in a lovely room but can't even enjoy it for more than 7 hours. Breakfast was great - tons of food. Naki met us in reception and took us to the train station at 7:00 for the final leg of our Trans-Siberian/Mongolian adventure. In 30 hours time we will arrive at Beijing. The train was superb! Much nicer than any other train we have been on and well taken care of by the staff. Once onboard we were welcomed by a hot cup of tea and then lunch shortly after. In the restaurant car we made lots of new friends and talked for hours which helped pass the time. We met Matt from Cambridge (who we shared our cabin with), Matt and Benita from Brisbane, Jeff from Pennsylvania, an anoying American from Arkansas, Harry Potter (look alike from England) and Paddy from Holland. We waited at the Mongolian/Chinese border for 4 hours while they checked passports and... changed the wheels. For some strange reason the Chinese tracks are exactly 15cm wider than the Russian ones which means that they have to elevate the entire train to replace the boogies. A fascinating procedure to watch. As we neared Beijing we passed many suburbs and I couldn't control my excitement. Me and Ali finally managed to find an open window on the train so that we could spend the last remaining hour hanging out the window airing our armpits. The train was so bloody hot!

Ulaan Bataar

After another delightful donutty breakfast, we were driven out of camp Elstei back to Ulaan Bataar where we had the rest of the day to explore the city again (thankfully under nicer weather conditions) and then spent a comfortable night at a four star hotel. My back is in severe pain from that stupid horse yesterday. After a ridiculously cheap lunch with Ruth and Duncan, me and Ali visited the monestry again so that I could take more pictures. Afterwards, we made another visit to the state department store for some last minute purchases. I bought a beautiful Mongolian piece of art and Ali purchased some whimsical felt slippers (I would have loved a pair myself except they dont make them in my size - Mongols have very small feet!). We met back up with Duncan and Ruth at the hotel only to discover that Duncan had lost his wallet - possibly stolen. Luckily he didn't have much money in it, but has to deal with the inconvenience of not having a visa card for the rest of his trip.

We had another insanely cheap Korean meal at a restaurant not too far from the hotel. The food was plentyful and delicious. We paid 5000 tugriks (about 2 pounds) each for 1 main meal, 2 beers and 15 complimentary small appetizing dishes. I took a picture of our table covered in plates. At one point I forgot which plate I was eating from because there were that many. Our hotel was beautiful and a much needed pit stop after living in a tent for the past 2 days. The hotel is called Bayangol and is a luxurious oasis in the middle of a poverty stricken shanty-like city. Ulaan Bataar, with a population of 804,000 (a third of the country), is surrounded by mountains: Bogd Uul, Songino Khairkhan, Chingeltei and Bayanzurkh. They all make up the Khentii range. The city experiences climatic extremes with temperatures ranging from -49 in winter to 38 above in the summer. Despite the fact that Mongolia has been economically depressed for over 700 years and is struggling to get back on its feet from total zero, the people seem to be very high spirited and very welcoming to foreigners. Its actually quite refreshing to see a country that is barely touched by the 20th century outside the capital. The phones are clunky, the officials are corrupt and... unfortunately, not a single place to download our digital photos.

My First Equestrian Experience

I slept well until about 4:30 am when the hearth ceased to produce heat and I awoke with a frozen face. Adding more layers helped a little until 6:30 when "Old Man" came in and fed the furnace. Surprise surprise, within 40 minutes I felt like a small potato baking in a giant oven. Breakfast consisted of donut-like twists and pancakes followed by a plate of 2 fried eggs and a slice of tomato, bread, butter and jam. Naki began to tell us about a new addition who was making her way to the camp as we spoke. He continued to tell the story of how the poor woman's passport went missing and that she wasn't allowed to leave the country. Just at that moment, Anna (one of the two ladies who we met in Russia and stayed with at the Irkutsk village) walked through the door and it quickly became obvious that she was the victim. Anna and Delphi left Irkutsk a day before us to continue their trip to Beijing only to discover at the Mongolian/Chinese border that Anna's passport had been stolen (or lost). Anna was stuck in Mongolia not knowing what was going to come of the situation which is why Delphi decided to continue in order to make the most of an expensive trip. Anna oddly enough was reunited with her passport after being detained for 30 hours at the station. The passport had been mysteriously found back at the hotel and given to travelers on the next train - the quickest way to get the important document back to Anna.

The five of us (me, Ali, Duncan, Ruth and Anna) went for a short walk about a mile up to the top of a hill where there was a sacred mound of rocks and a sheep skull draped in fabric. On our way up the hill we witnessed one of the dogs (the same one that kept coming into our ger yesterday) catch and eat a sheep alive. This wasn't a pretty sight and there was absolutely nothing we could do about it. On the way back down the hill, me and Ali had separated from the rest of the group and were quite far behind the others. We stopped to take photos of the beautiful mountains in the distance and the bleak landscape around is when I suddenly noticed two giant vultures flying in circles above us. I suggested we quickly catch up with the others.

After lunch we went horse riding for a couple of hours which sounded like a lot more fun than it actually was. My horse didn't listen to a word I shouted and only did what it felt like doing (which wasn't much). "Cho, cho" I shouted continuously to make it go faster but this didn't have any effect at all. I would have enjoyed the experience a lot more, had it not been for the sub-zero wind chill that was freezing my hands and feet. Even though we all dressed appropriately (at least 6 layers of clothing and scarves covering 90% of our face so that only our eyes were exposed) my feet almost froze. We visited a small family ger which marked the half way and return point of our little adventure. We were given tea whilst sitting in the warmth for a little rest. Under nomadic tradition, it is a duty to welcome any visitor apparently. Less than an hour later we approached the camp. My horse was almost crawling at this point.

Ali's camera broke today. Not sure when or why. Needless to say she's not a very happy girl.

We were informed by Naki that dinner this afternoon was going to be a traditional Mongolian BBQ. This however wasn't the type of BBQ us westerners were expecting. It was in fact broiled Mutton (which seems to be the only type of meat available in Mongolia). It was still enjoyable and there was plenty for everyone. As always, a never ending supply of hot tea accompanied our meal. After dinner, Naki escorted us to our ger and introduced a Mongolian game called ankle bones. He placed a decorated felt mat on the table and emptied the bag of ankle bones on to it. We played several different games that involved no skill whatsoever, except maybe for the one that involved flicking. It's amazing how much fun you can have with a few sheep bones. Naki sang Mongolia opera for us and then in return we taught him new English phrases and words including 'monkey business', 'oopsy daisy', 'tipsy', all 'fingers and thumbs', 'rat-arsed', and 'wasted'.

Siberian Safari

At 8:30 am we were picked up at the station and driven to a building where we could shower and rest. Our guide Naki, told us that he would pick us up at 9:00 am then take us on a tour of the city. After which we will head to camp Elstei where we will spend the next two nights in a ger (traditional Mongolian tent). Mongolia is one of the least visited countries on earth and also one of the most sparsely populated (only 2.5 million, of which over two thirds live in the capital). I am intrigued and excited for what I am about to see. Looking out of the window on the train this morning it looked like we had took a diversion through the Arctic - snowy blizzards against a white background with not a horizon in sight. I wrapped up warm and was ready to go. Never did find out what was in those suspicious packages. Whatever it was, he got away with it.

Naki introduced us to Duncan and Ruth, two other travelers from England that where about to enjoy the same tour as us. Naki showed the four of us around Ulaan Baatar in almost freezing conditions. I wasn't at all prepared for the harsh, bitter temperatures and so my enjoyment and enthusiasm was slightly limited. After he pointed out and described all the major buildings in the city (not very many of them), Naki took us to the Gandan Monastery. We walked through a grotty neighborhood consisting of many gers inhabited by the city's poorest people before reaching the religious compound. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. As we entered the Great Temple, I was initially drawn to the outskirts of the interior which were lined with hundreds of gold sitting Buddha statues on shelves layered from eye-level to high above. It wasn't until I looked towards the center of the temple when I was stunned by the 25 meter high Buddha standing in the center of the temple. It's the largest Buddhist statue in Mongolia known as Migjid Janraisig. It weighs 90 tons and is built from 20 tons of copper, 400 kgs of silver, gilded with 135 kgs of gold and decorated with more than 2000 pieces of precious stones. Naki also told us that the many small Buddha's that sit around the statue (1000 to be exact) are meant to watch over and protect the sacred centerpiece. Upon leaving the temple, I was instructed to exit in a respectful manner. This involved walking backwards through the doorway and down the steps thus always keeping your eye on Migjid. This was extremely difficult and frankly, I'm amazed I didn't fall.

Almost frozen at this point, we head back towards the city for a bite to eat and a nice cup of tea. Duncan ordered a curiously named item on the menu called "No Meat Dish" which actually consisted of nothing but meat. Food here is extremely cheap and very tasty. After a visit to the department store and dressing up in some interesting hats and felt slippers, we made our way to the ger camp which is situated about 40k outside the city. As we drove across the dessert-like terrain we were amazed at the hostile weather conditions. The blizzards and low-visibility made us all a little nervous. The road ahead was covered in snow as it blew horizontally across with the violent winds. At one point we stopped to get petrol. Adventurous Ali, always looking for new thrills and excitement, exited the vehicle like a stupid person would do in a bad disaster movie. Once she stepped out of the van I couldn't even see her. All I heard over the strong winds was something along the lines of "oh my god... f@#k... this is amazing".

A few hundred yards further down the road, the driver slowed down so that we could take photos of the crazy man on a horse rounding up his cattle wearing goggles dressed in what looked like a bright blue dressing gown. We opened the windows just enough to fit the camera through to take some sneaky shots of him and his strange looking animals. I felt like we were on a Siberian safari.

We arrived at the camp and allocated a ger where we will live for the next two nights. A ger is a circular wooden framed tent, insulated with felt and is the traditional home of Mongolian people. Their nomadic lifestyle has, for the most part, remained unchanged which is fascinating to see. Not exactly impressed with the weather, I didn't look forward to sleeping in a tent in the middle of Mongolia in sub-zero temperatures. I practically crawled through the 1.2 meter high door where I was greeted by "old man" (this is how he was introduced to us) who was attending to our Golomt which is the hearth in the center of the ger. Although slightly chilly to start off with, it didn't take long to heat up and within an hour I was down to my last layer of clothing and sweating. Four beds, each within painted wooden boxes like dolls furniture, lined the walls of the tent. In the center, behind the golomt with it's chimney poking out of the roof, was a small set of table and stools matching the ornately painted beds. We were told to obey Mongolian tradition and walk only in a clockwise direction around the golomt. This proved to be hilarious when we needed something just to the right of us. Unfortunately there was no way for the heat to escape which is why I came up with the idea of wedging the door open to help ventilate and regulate the temperature. One problem with this however is that one of the camp's dogs kept coming in to say hello. We shared the ger with Duncan and Ruth, who by this time, we were well acquainted with each other. They have both recently graduated from medical school and have come to Mongolia to work for the Mongolian Volunteer Organisation at a Maternal and Child Research Center in the city.

7:00 pm - Dinner was served and the whole camp (which only consisted of 10 travelers as supposed to the usual 70 in summertime) met up in the dining hut. We had a carrot salad to start followed by meat dumplings which were very tasty indeed. The night ended with drinks and a few games of Yahtzee back at the ger. For a short while we spent some time teaching Naki new English phrases and plied him with some of our Russian Vodka. That was until we realised that he was seriously concerned about losing his job if caught. I told him it would be rude to refuse a guests gift and to use that in his defense if ever questioned.

Time Irrelevant

11:15pm - lying on my not so comfortable bed in the not so spacious cabin on the train traveling to Ulaan Baatar. The train is very similar to the Russian one except it's older and managed by slightly friendlier Chinese staff (as supposed to the angry Russian ones we had previously). 30 minutes ago we stopped for over 3 hours while the Russian border control checked the entire train. Of course, shortly after we had stopped I realised that it was time to use the bathroom. I had to wait 3 and a half hours before I could relieve myself. The train stopped for a second time at the other side of the border so that Mongolian customs officials could put us through the exact same misery.

Spent about an hour trying to figure out what time it was. Throughout the whole of this Trans-Siberian trip we will have covered 6 different time-zones. Each book that I read told me slightly different information which made it impossible to figure out what the actual time was locally. Mongolia and China only have one time-zone which is hard to believe considering the size of each country, especially China. To avoid frustration I ignored the specifics of time I took great pleasure in simply eating when I was hungry and sleeping when I was tired.

Today we played cards with Walter (room mate #3) and read the concise history of Russia along with some introductory information about Mongolia to help prepare us for our arrival in less than 8 hours time. As we neared the Border, our room mate #4 (a Mongolian man who spent most of his time in the next cabin with his friends) asked Walter if he could try and hide the contents within his seat storage compartment when opened by the officers. He wanted one of us to stand in front of the suspicious looking packages when opening the compartment to hopefully satisfy the authorities. I guess he thinks us westerners are more likely to get away with it. Of course, none of us obliged and asked him what exactly was in his boxes. Surprisingly he declined to answer. All three of us have our suspicions - I'm pretty sure it's copious amounts of cocaine, naive Ali thinks that they are boxes of nuts and bolts (based on the weight of each small box) and Walter reckons they are explosives of some sort.

Life in Irkutsk

Today we enjoyed our last breakfast looking out at the wonderful views of Siberia before being picked up by our driver to take us back to the city. I must confess that today wasn't as productive as it probably should have been. I was tired, and not too impressed with what Irkutsk seemed to offer and decided it would be best if I left Ali to explore on her own so that I could catch up with my blog at the nearby internet cafe.

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Ali finds me sitting at a computer several hours later and begins to tell me the story of how she met "a nice man called Valdimir" out on her travels. So while I was sitting there typing away, she was being taken around an art gallery and got to see some wedding festivities which sounded really interesting and wish I had gone with her.

We are staying with a family in their home tonight which is in a grotty looking apartment block conveniently located in the middle of the city. Despite the not so attractive exterior, the apartment was very pleasant, cosy and clean inside. The father is a physiotherapist, the mother works in tourism and they both look after their two daughters who are at university. One is studying tourism and speaks excellent English and the other studies Architecture. One of the daughters prepared an excellent meal for us and we sat with her father to eat it just before he had to leave for work. We talked for quite a while as she translated our conversations to him. They are a very nice family and provided us with a small but interesting insight to their life in a city outside of Moscow.

Tomorrow morning we wake up at 4:00am in order to catch the 6:30am train to Ulaan Batar - the second leg of our Trans-Siberian adventure.

Visions of Falling Through

We were awaken at 9:30am by Olgar shouting over the wall in our bedroom (no, none of the walls in this house actually touch the ceiling) announcing that breakfast was ready. The usual items were presented in exactly the same way except the fried bready-omletey-thing changed slightly each morning. Today it was actually a very tasty lemon cakey type thing (I realise it would sound a lot less amateur if I could describe the exact contents or even call it the name that it deserves, but unfortunately Olgar didn't speak any English and therefore it was impossible to get explanations of what she had prepared for us. We just smiled and ate, usually followed by a grateful "yummy-in-my-tummy" hand movement). I swear there was large quantities of alcohol in her homemade jam too. It seemed to get stronger every morning.

After breakfast, Olgar asked what time we would like lunch and then set off for a hike up the hills - this time on foot. Apparently there is a specific hill that can be accessed by a ski lift and once at the top, offers amazing views of the lake and river mouth. We found the hill and started our incline towards the beginning of the ski lift. This was my first time on a ski lift and found it very amusing considering I wasn't about to ski, the ski season was far gone and we were the only ones on the whole lift. The guys sitting in the control room at the bottom switched the whole thing on just for us. Once at the top, the views were as incredible as we were told, even if they were slightly obstructed by the dense forest. We opted to walk back down the hill instead of taking the ski lift and made it back just in time for lunch.

Olgar had prepared yet another delicious meal. This time it was dumplings, soup, carrot and cheese salad, bread, and sour cream if so desired. Olgar wasn't very happy about us not finishing the vat of carrot salad that she had made, and forced me to eat more. Trying to see the positive aspects of eating something I didn't quite like, I figured it would be great to have super vision in the dark. Ali somehow was exempt from the whole ordeal and smiled the whole time I forced the orange shreds of goodness down my throat. It was a slightly awkward feeling knowing how difficult and expensive it is to buy simple things like even a tomato here. Life outside Moscow is tough and the likes of Olgar have to watch TV (which runs only on Moscow time meaning that she watches breakfast shows in the afternoon) that advertises items that are 10 times what she can afford and are only available in Moscow. If she can't grow it herself, she might as well forget about it. It's amazing how many different things she can make with potatoes and carrots!!!

After lunch we went for another walk on the crunchy miles of ice that lie on the frozen lake to admire the mountains in the distance. This time I was convinced it was unsafe to walk on and had visions of me falling through. I think my confidence was knocked since the yesterday when I actually did fall through. I was testing how safe a particularly dodgy looking area was by gently applying pressure with my foot. On the third press, I was convinced it was safe and proceeded to walk until my foot fell straight through. So, today, being the gentleman that I am, I allowed Ali to walk in front to lead the way (I figured if she fell through, she would need someone big and strong to pull her out - that was my justification). I remember looking back at one point and noticed a man walking out onto the lake with a bucket and fetching water from a hole in the ice. I wondered if Olgar has to do that too.

After more food than my body could handle at dinner time, we sat at the table drinking tea, eating biscuits, reading books and wrote in our journals. I read about Dostoyevsky and his accounts of life imprisonment in Siberia in 1849 and also about Mongolia, our next destination - one of the least visited countries on earth.

Ski Trekking in Siberia

Today the four of us went skiing with Sasha, our instructor. We weaved our way through the dense forest that coats the hills surrounding the lake for almost four hours. This was my first time skiing and really enjoyed it even though I was expecting more of a downhill experience. We stopped for lunch before turning around and heading back. Sasha set the fire going so that we could have hot water to make cups of tea and instant mash in the middle of the forest. We all sat around the fire and listened to each others stories which was lots of fun. The views as we ski-trekked back to the bottom of the hill where amazing. I had to keep stopping just to take it all in. I only fell down once which I considered quite an achievement.

It was obvious that Summer was just around the corner as the sound of snow and ice from the roof tops could be heard dripping into barrels everywhere as it melted under the sun. We met a group children who were playing in the street and introduced ourselves. Ali started a snowball fight with them and soon started to regret it.

We walked on the lake which was a surreal experience. We could literally see for miles across the seemingly endless lake which was covered in snow. We walked along the lake until we reached a small market which sold locally made souvenirs and lots of freshly smoked fish. There must have been at least 30 people each selling fish that was smoking away in small wooden boxes.

The main street that follows the lake is dotted with small wooden houses, each with slightly different ornate carving around the windows called "Siberian Lace" and painted in the most exquisite colours.

After dinner we went to the bar down the street for a drink and I somehow managed to beat Ali at Backgammon with a whopping great score of 42 - 31. Getting back home late at night was a challenge considering there was no street lighting to help guide us back along the street to the village.

The Coldest Place on Earth

As we stepped off the train we met Anna and Delphi who were standing with Tatyana our guide. It just so happens that the two English ladies we met on the train are with the same agency as us and have similar travel plans to ours. We will be spending the next few nights in a small village called Listvyanka, just outside of Irkutsk on the edge of lake Baikal. Tatyana escorted us to a van where we were driven towards our accommodation. As we drive out of the city she announces our itinerary for the day: breakfast will be waiting for us at the house (me and Ali will be spending the next 3 nights living with Olgar in her small house and Anna and Delphi with another Russian lady somewhere else in the village for 2 nights), Tatyana will then pick us up for a walking tour of Listvyanka via the church and a museum. A late lunch will be served at around 4:00pm followed by a sauna and then dinner and 7:00pm.

The icy views as we neared the frozen lake were breathtaking. It's much colder here but I guess that should be no surprise considering Siberia is the coldest place on earth. Russian scientists have estimated that the human body is not capable of noticing differences in temperature lower than -35 degrees C. The temperatures here can fall nearly 20 degrees lower than that which is why frostbite is fairly common and attacks people who have ventured out into -55 degrees not knowing how cold it actually was. Apparently your fingers or ears can snap off if accidentally hit (even lightly). Thankfully we wont be experiencing such temperatures but I'm pretty sure I will be needing my deerstalker style hat and gloves.

An hour later we arrived at the village which was a stones throw away from the lake. We were dropped off outside the house and introduced to Olgar our host. As promised she had breakfast waiting for us inside, so without hesitating we left our bags in the spacious guest room and sat down at the table. Olgar supplied us with ample amounts of excellent Indian tea as we tucked into breakfast which consisted of home made jam, bread, cheese and a large fried cakey-like-omelet. As I sat there I looked around at the interior of the log-timbered house which they call 'Izba' - the traditional and most common form of house in Siberia. A giant brick stove and chimney is situated in the center of the house which also acts as the main structural support for the roof. The solid-fuel stove is stoked from the kitchen but parts of it project into each room of the house acting as central heating. There is no running water so it has to be boiled first and then poured into the container above the sink. The water is dispensed in exactly the same way as on the train and once it has been used it is collected in a bucket below the sink hole. The bathroom is outside in a wooden shed which consists of a hole leading to a pile of hay. A small notice on the back of the wall reads "please no toilet paper here" with an arrow pointing towards the hole. Already I am faced with having to challenge several habits of a lifetime.

After breakfast we were taken to a church at the foot of the hills and then continued along Baikal to a museum which was dedicated to this incredible lake. Baikal is the deepest lake in the world and one of the largest. Of the 2630 species of living organisms in the lake, 75% are found nowhere else in the world. Scientists still puzzle and theorise about the details of the lake's formation, but it is clear that these species represent an ecosystem which has largely developed unconnected with the rest of the world's aquatic life. One-fifth of the world's fresh water lies in lake Baikal. It's also the oldest lake in the world at an age of 20 million years. This lake purifies and cleans itself which is one of the reasons why it is so clear. We watched a movie that showed 2x2m2 cubes of ice that were cut out of the frozen surface and it looked just like glass - you could see straight through it!
One unique type of fish apparently swims so far deep that it doesn't even have eyes because it wouldn't ever need them at that kind of depth. Another type of fish would explode if it was ever brought to the surface because of the pressure difference. I learnt so much fascinating stuff at this museum it was great.

Next on the itinerary was lunch followed by a nice hot banya (Siberian sauna) back at the Izba. Olgar prepared the sauna for us so that we could relax and bathe for as long as we wanted. The banya was yet another individual wooden building outside in the yard. I undressed in the changing room before entering the sauna which was heated by a large stove in the corner. Hot water could be obtained from the stove or cold water from the large vat that stood in the opposite corner. I filled the large metal bathing bowls and splashed away. The heat was great and very relaxing but I didn't appreciate nor understand the whole "bathing-whilst-sweating" idea.

Before we had time to think about what to do next, Olgar had cooked up yet another delicious feast. Our dinner rendered us so fatigued that we ended up going straight to bed. I got up in the middle of the night to take a trip to the bathroom and was stunned by the star filled sky. I didn't even know that many stars existed. It was such an amazing sight.

Life on Trans-Siberian Rails

11:10pm - We arrived at Yaroslavsky train station in Moscow and walked with anticipation along the platform past the many carriages of our huge Trans-Siberian train. Contrary to popular belief, there is no such train called the Trans-Siberian Express. The term Trans-Siberian refers only to the series of routes that pass through Siberia connecting Russia, Mongolia and China. The train we were about to board was taking us to Irkutsk, the first leg of our Trans-Siberian trip. The journey takes approximately 77 hours (which translated means 3 days and 4 nights living in a small cabin on a train). Although not very enthusiastic about such confinement, I was excited about what we were going to see and looked forward to the next chapter of our big adventure.

In order to describe fully my accounts of life on this train, I have decided to divide the whole experience into subjects and write in detail about individual aspects of the trip...

THE TRAIN:

Our carriage had 10 cabins each sleeping 4 people and a toilet at either end of the corridor. These toilets are extremely basic and if I was lucky I'd occasionally get hot water. The tap, if you can call it that, dispensed water when the "stopper" was pushed upwards allowing the hot water to flow out. The problem with this is that it always required one hand to keep the "stopper" pushed upwards meaning that bathing or even washing hands was extremely difficult. The toilet has foot plates molded into the rim but I wouldn't dare use them - it was easier to squat keeping my feet safely on the floor while holding onto the hand rail (although this position was almost impossible during sharp turns and shaky sections on the track). The toilet was flushed by pushing the foot pedal which released the contents directly onto the tracks below, hence the reason why you can't access the toilet when the train is stationery or passing through a town. These random opening times and restricted access caused me a few problems. The most notable incident happened on the third night...

Me and Ali had been drinking a few beers and playing backgammon when I realised that I could no longer wait and made my way to the toilet (the game was at a crucial point and I was on the verge of winning so I couldn't just get up and leave). Surprise surprise both doors were locked. As the train was still moving I wondered why the attendant had locked them but it turns out that we were 20 minutes away from a large town and about to stop at a station. Once the train stopped I asked for directions to the nearest toilet in the station. I was kindly informed by the laughing attendant that there weren't any toilets at the station and that I had to wait. This stop was 1 hour 22 minutes long! I was at bursting point and looked around desperately for something, anything that would relieve me. The boy scout in me started to think of clever and inconspicuous ways of doing it. It was a simple process of elimination - I couldn't go outside because it was riddled with armed police and people selling all kinds of food to people on the train. I realised it would be too time consuming to make a key (not too dissimilar to the kind that drains radiators) to open the toilet door. Unfortunately the only choice I had was to walk in between the carriages, pull back the rubber surround just enough squeeze through and then relieve myself out onto the tracks facing away from the platform.

Depending on our attendants mood swings (which were permanently of the angry/depressed variety) we'd either be forced to listen to Russian disco music from the 80's or some strange opera like singer from the small (but loud) speakers in our cabin. Sometimes we would hear the occasional Russian cover version of a well-known Western song too. At the end of each carriage was a samovar. This popular spot was situated directly opposite the attendants cabin and dispensed hot water from the tank. This meant that we could make our own tea, coffee or pot noodles whenever we wanted. Our beds where actually quite comfy and come with clean sheets and a towel. I took the top bunk and Ali slept below with our room mate Natalie. Whenever we weren't sleeping we used the two bottom beds as seats and sat at the small table.

THE PEOPLE WE MET (in order of appearance):

Each carriage has it's own attendant that vacuums, cleans and opens the doors at every stop. Our Russian attendant wasn't a very happy woman and the train hadn't even departed Moscow before our relationship got off to a bad start. This wasn't a good situation considering the Russian trains, like most of the country, is corrupt and everyone who has done their Trans-Siberian research should know that your attendant has lots of power and if you treat her nicely, it will make your life on the train much more pleasant. All I did was ask a simple question "why is it so hot in here" (and believe me, it was an like an inferno. I was expecting the cast iron frame of the train to start melting any second) and to help communicate my discomfort I made some hand movements to indicate how hot I was. She waved her hand as if to say "be away with you, you peasant", said something unfriendly in Russian and started laughing with friends in her cabin. I didn't appreciate that at all so I called her a nasty name and walked away.

The nice thing about our carriage is that we only shared it with one other person - Natalie. She doesn't speak English but we managed to figure out that she is the mother of 2 and is a train manager of some sort. She was very respectable (compared to most of the occupants on the train) and I enjoyed her company.

Our neighbors were nothing really to write about so I wont.

We had met two nice Russian guys from Irkutsk called Anton and Anton (pronounced slightly different). They asked us to sit with them while in the restaurant car and subsequently got to know each other pretty well despite our language differences. Anton #1 had a slight advantage over his friend Anton #2 because he could speak a little English and translated most of what we said. Even though it was difficult to communicate, I still enjoyed their company and found it amazing how we could all communicate through had movements and drawings. There were times when neither of us really knew what we were talking about but it all made for an amusing night. We drank and ate their sunflower seeds in the restaurant car until we were thrown out and then retired to Anton #1's carriage for shots of Vodka and slices of orange (fruit is often used to cut the harsh after taste of Vodka - a common custom in Russia apparently) although the night quickly came to an end when 2 military officers knocked on the door. They spoke to Anton and Anton, looked at their passports then asked them to leave the cabin. They disappeared for a short while until #1 returned and told us we had to go back to our cabin and gave us no real explanation of what just happened. He said "sometime this thing just happens".

During our time spent with the Anton's in the restaurant we briefly met Anna and Delphi, two very nice ladies from England. Unfortunately we didn't get much time to exchange travel stories but it was refreshing to meet someone who spoke our language.

THE STOPS:

Every now and then the train would stop at small remote stations for varying lengths of time depending on the purpose of the stop. The duration of the stop was indicated in Ali's handbook (which she bought prior to our trip) so we could figure out if it was a long enough stop to get off and stretch our legs. At almost every station we stopped at there was the opportunity to buy food from the locals who eagerly awaited the arrival of the train in hope of earning a little extra cash. The food available varied from stop to stop but generally included items like noodles, tea, bready things, coke, beer and all sorts of other unidentifiable Russian snack foods and treats. We even tried smoked fish at one point as we neared lake Baikal - I wasn't too keen but Ali seemed to enjoy the challenge of removing the one hundred and something bones inside.

At some stops we were able to run to the front of the train for a photo and to wave hello to the driver. Ali's handbook was a great resource for us as it had detailed descriptions of each and every stop so that we could learn about the small towns and villages that we pass through on the way as well as a kilometer tracker so that we could figure out how many miles we had traveled.

THE VIEWS:

Obviously some parts of the trip offered more dramatic scenery than others but for the most part it was bleak landscapes with the occasional dense forest passing by every now and then. The amount of snow we saw also varied greatly. Unfortunately, my romantic dreams of hanging out the window as the train winds through snow capped trees in forests were far from accurate as the windows were locked tightly shut. Probably in order to maintain the 180 degree heat that was cooking everyone alive - one of the reasons why I enjoyed regular trips to surf the plates between the train carriages where it was much cooler.

THE RESTAURANT CAR:

Because the menu wasn't available in English I rarely purchased food from the restaurant car but it was a great place to sit and write or drink weak Russian beer and definitely a welcomed change of scenery. Most of the food we ate was from the supermarket in Moscow although I did once try the soup which was nice but I still can't figure out what it was. I watched the same awful Russian movie twice but was entertained by the bad acting and special effects.

Moscow - Day 3

Today we woke up just in time for breakfast (unlike yesterday) and made our way down stairs to the restaurant. A rather odd selection of items where on offer including, and in no particular order... hot dogs, boiled eggs, omelets, potato salad (or at least that's what it looked like), pancakes, olives, salami, ham, cheese, baked apples (whole), jam roly poly, yoghurt, cereal, and cakes amongst many other baked specialties with unidentifiable ingredients.

After wasting 2 hours of my life waiting for Ali to post some newspapers back home (our experience with the Russian post office is almost worth writing a book about but can't upset myself trying to recall the events right now) we walk to the Architectural Museum's photography exhibition called Mockba XXI. After buying our tickets from a woman sitting at a small desk hidden away in the corner of what looked like a large banqueting hall, we were escorted out through the back of the building to a courtyard with clusters of old architectural artifacts and pieces of baroque facade from old buildings. She pointed to the cool looking graphics on a huge angled board that advertised the special event. We walked through the board into the old building and up the dilapidated stairs. Passed walls that had been stripped of their plaster down to the bare wooden lattice and limestone base. I could feel drafts from the glassless windows as I reached the exhibition room. As incredible as the work itself, was the environment in which it was exhibited - the great work of Luigi Filetici (an Italian photographer who I hadn't heard of before today) was suspended from the beams above following a walkway around the gallery. The walkway consisted of wooden decking placed over the curvy brick work that formed the arched ceiling of the first floor below. The exhibition was a photographic journey through 21 years of architecture in Moscow and rarely do I get excited or as emotional about someone's work as I did today - it was inspiring and such a great experience for me.

After the exhibition I somehow managed to get into trouble with an old Russian lady. I was sitting on the steps leading up to the post office (yes, we were there again) minding my own business, when I was told by this old lady to get off the stairs. I couldn't understand a word she was shouting but it became obvious when she vigorously tapped her behind and then pointed at mine. Language difficulties have reached an all time high. It's frustrating when we can't get what we want, or even see what's on offer for that matter. We have really struggled to communicate throughout the past few days and it seems only the young and well educated Russians speak some English. We are at least able to speak a few simple words to express gratitude which helps. Overall, our experience with the Russian locals hasn't been very friendly or welcoming. I can't help but sense bitterness amongst them. Maybe it's because they themselves are unable to travel and therefore don't take too kindly to people visiting their country. Or maybe we have just been very unfortunate and met the more unapproachable half of the population.

We bought our food supply for the start of our Trans-Siberian journey at a place that can only be described as a Russian reasonably priced Harrod's. This shop stocked everything the average grocery store would have at normal prices except the interior itself was far from what you would expect. The building used to be a palace belonging to the princess of a tzar. After the revolution, the building was bought by a company who subsequently converted the grand space into a food store. We spent a while looking at all the different food stuffs on offer and compared prices. After we purchased everything we needed for our long train ride, we headed back to the hotel where we met our driver who then took us to the train station.

The great Trans-Siberian rail routes await us...

Moscow - Day 2

In search of the perfect Russian doll, we continued on a solo tour of the city and headed straight for the Kremlin via a tiny pastry shop located beneath the city - just one of the many units lining the underground walkways leading to the Metro platforms.

The Kremlin, designed by Italian architects (unknown why), is essentially a walled city within the city and is the home to government buildings, cathedrals and an armory which houses the crown jewels. The cathedral square on the Kremlin grounds is perhaps the most majestic spot in Moscow. We had audio guides which basically looked like giant mobile phones but provided you with information whenever you were ready to listen.

After another photo session in Red Square we headed to the nearest coffee shop to rest our feet and read The Moscow Times (which can be easily obtained in English). The newspaper is actually one of the best I have read. The very well written, non-biased articles make for an interesting read and a good feel for what's currently happening in the city. I also picked up some great ideas for our last day in Moscow tomorrow.

Today being "Cutlery Day" (Friday) we looked up some good places to eat and decided that Georgian food sounded interesting.

Mama Zoya is a Georgian restaurant housed within a house boat floating on the Moskva river. The atmosphere was lively with people dancing to tunes played by the wandering accordion. Again, not understanding any of the menu and not so well assisted by a frustrated waitress, we end up selecting random dishes not knowing exactly what we're ordering. The food was very similar to Greek and was excellent. The Veal Kebab with "ketchup" (the word our waitress used to describe the tomato based sauce that accompanied the dish) was particularly good as was the Khatschapuri (hot bread layered with cheese). After discovering that the cheapest bottle of wine was about 18 pounds, we opted for a simple beer instead.

Tried to get Ali to dance but she refused.

We ended our evening with an exploration of the underground stations. Without going into detail about how incredibly ornate some of these stations are I will state only one of the many features... chandeliers!!!

Moscow - Day 1

We arrived at Belorusskaya train station in Moscow at around 10:30 in the morning and were greeted by a man holding a sign "McKnight/Cowley". I was immediately shocked at how warm it was. I was expecting highs of around -7 since reading forecasts regularly in papers along the way. Apparently it snowed only a week ago but they seem to be pretty confident about it being the last snow fall and insist that 6 months of freezing conditions is quite enough.

As the driver took us to our hotel which was about 30 minutes away from the city center, he handed me our Trans-Siberian tickets then used his mobile to make a call. After talking for a short while he handed the phone to Ali in the back seat allowing her to speak to our guide. She arranged for the guide to pick us up at the hotel at 2:00pm which gave me just enough time for a short nap. The hotel is pleasant if not exactly charming. The staff are a little on the unfriendly side and seemingly don't take much of a liking to foreigners. I dismissed the whole experience as hopefully being a misrepresentation of the city as a whole and continued to look forward to our tour.

Elena (our guide) took us on the metro to the city and started the tour with a walk through Manezhnaya square just outside the Kremlin. We then walked through Red Square where I saw the next big famous landmark of my big adventure, St. Basil's cathedral also known as The Church of the Savior (and nicknamed the Pineapple Church by Victorian travelers). This whimsical structure is probably as much a symbol of Moscow as Tower Bridge is of London. It's an incredible building with nine varying ornate domes painted in bright colours and patterns. Our guide told us that it was commissioned by Ivan the Terrible to celebrate his victory over the Tators, and completed in 1561. According to legend, Ivan was so pleased with the result that he had the architects eyes removed so that he could never produce anything to equal or surpass it.

We passed the Kremlin but agreed that tomorrow would be a better day to visit the grounds within. Elena then took us along the main boulevard passing many other attractions along the way. She called her dealer and arranged 2 tickets for the opera tonight at Moscow's famous Bolshoi theatre. We got front row seats for Fallstaff. It was a choice between opera tonight or the Bolshoi ballet tomorrow, and taking into consideration that I had already seen Bolshoi's Swan Lake performance in Chicago, I decided opera would be my personal preference and Ali kindly agreed.

I have noticed several things that are, for me, starting to characterise and summarise the city of Moscow: dirty Lada's (like most of the cars being driven around here, they are filthy from the never-ending snow and slushy roads), drinking on the streets (I guess because there aren't really any bars here), ridiculously cheap vodka (around 3 pounds and upwards) and finally, the most ornate underground metro stations I have ever seen with trains to match - we are planning to visit as many of the more notable ones tomorrow night.

Russia is still evidently depressed - both socially and economically. Shopping malls are a relatively new concept here in Russia and Moscow only has two of them.

Elena conveniently ended the tour stopping at an intersection on the boulevard offering all kinds of places to eat. We chose the Mongolian BBQ which was good except I was under the impression it was all you can eat and filled my bowl with a modest sized portion only to then discover that this wasn't the case. Still hungry, we had just enough time for coffee and a dessert at a nice place down the street.

Opera was amazing. If I wasn't appreciating the orchestra below, or the view of the singers from my binoculars, I found myself very relaxed thinking about all kinds of different things. We saw Guiseppe Verdi's Falstaff (La Scala Milan production 1980). The interesting thing about this production is that it wasn't the usual dramatic telling of a sad story that I had come to expect from opera but more a very light hearted comedy. After reading notes about the show, I discovered that this particular production was very different not just in terms of content, but construction which basically meant that regular opera fans would find it difficult to follow because it doesn't follow the same structure of traditional opera. From my perspective, it was still very enjoyable and I had a great time.

Train to Russia

The first time I saw her I was amazed. It was like the group of them had just stepped off the set of a James Bond film. The authorities at the Russian border consisted of 3 men in military uniform and a woman who may have took her job a little too seriously. Looking down the train I could see her standing in knee length black leather boots complete with buckles and diamond studded toe caps. A long way above her boots was the start of a dark green mini skirt along with the rest of her standard issue Russian federation uniform. She made her way down the silent carriage inspecting every single nook and cranny of the train looking for anything suspicious like hidden children in the storage compartments under the seats, or maybe even crates of missiles in Ali's back pack. The train looked like it should be in a museum. It almost looked like it had been cast out of iron. I was amazed it moved as quickly as it did considering the materials used to build the thing.

Riga

We arrive at Riga at 5:34 in the morning and make our way to the train station which according to the map is only a few hundred meters away. The Moscow ticket box doesn't open until 11:00 but the train isn't scheduled to depart until 4:15. We both decide to stay awake and wait for the coffee shops to open in the station. It's unbelievably cheap here. I almost feel like I'm robbing them it's ridiculous. We're in a nice coffee shop and I have just paid 0.90 latis (about a pound) for a coffee and a nice chocolate eclair. Within minutes of demolishing it, I returned to the counter asking for more until 3 coffee's later, I was as high as a kite. Wide awake, I was perfectly able to navigate my way through an almost impossible conversation with the Latvian speaking assistant to find out costs and schedules for our train to Moscow.

Riga seems like an interesting city. I would like to explore but I simply don't have the energy or time to venture out properly. While Ali uses the only available internet point in probably the whole of Latvia, I run a few errands sticking within a 1/4 mile radius of the station. People here seem extremely sad and miserable. I haven't seen a single person smile yet. As I stood in the photo processing shop waiting for my pictures to be transferred onto a cd, I watched the locals get served. Their attitude towards each other was more Hostile than friendly. Or maybe my expectations of customer service are of a higher standard than they should be?

Not That desperate

Sitting on the bus we find ourselves playing interesting games to pass the time. It was impossible to sleep on the coach and remember getting extremely irritated watching the early hours of the morning pass by me on the digital clock at the front of the coach. I looked over and Ali was curled up in ball fast a sleep. It's just not fair. She's so petite and can fit into just about any space quite comfortably, close her eyes and sleep. If I could have detached my legs for the entire journey I would have.

We reached the Lithuanian border and a mean looking man in a uniform comes on board. Not only does he check my passport but keeps it and takes them with him off the coach. We are kept waiting for 20 minutes while they check the vehicle for hidden people. Not sure why, but this whole procedure made me very nervous. Once reunited with our passports we were free to drive through. Before leaving however, we stop just past the border so that people could use the toilets if needed. I decide to go thinking that it would be better than the toilet on the bus, especially taking into consideration the type of visit I was requiring. I was wrong! The toilet inside the small building consisted of a hole in the ground bearing metal plates indicating exactly where to place your feet. It wasn't long before I decided that my needs weren't that urgent and returned to the coach.

After reading a little bit about the Baltic states I'm thinking that I would like to spend more time here in the future. I like it here because it's different and unfamiliar. The public toilets could be vastly improved however.

One Hellish Morning

Well... Where do I begin? Lets start at 3 o'clock this morning when I was rudely awaken by the shaking of my bed. I removed my ear plugs then looked around the pitch black room in search of the culprit. There were 6 bunks in the room each sleeping 2 people. It's obvious that it was the irritating person sleeping in the next bed below me who came in late, drunk as a skunk, and got in a bed that wasn't even his. Now without my ear protection, I hear him tossing and turning, squeaking and shaking the bed (which in turn shakes mine) and snoring louder than I ever thought possible for a human being. The more irritated I became the more I realised that I wasn't alone in my thoughts as the guy from Birmingham across the room shouts "hey mate, shut up!". Making no difference whatsoever, the situation is soon elevated by the arrival of the Aussie who's bed the inconsiderate man was sleeping in. The Australian, bemused by what he's looking at, turns on his mini torch and shines it right in the mans face. Startled, the strange African man (SAM) grumbles, turns over and continues to sleep. Australian boy tries to tell SAM that he's sleeping in his bed but realising that his efforts are wasted he settles for the bed above him and hopes that SAM's behavior improves.

1 minute later SAM starts making strange noises, so loud that everyone in the room is now awake and sitting upright in their bed. Birmingham boy shouts more abusive remarks until the Australian climbs back down from his bed to politely shake SAM telling him to stop making so much noise and suggests that he might want to lay on his side. SAM jumps out of bed from beneath his sheets and starts shouting in a language none of us understand. By this time, the lights were on and all 12 of us are awake, unsettled and angry. After more failed attempts of communicating with SAM, I decide to take the matter downstairs to reception the desk. The receptionist knew exactly who I was talking about as she remembered the razzled SAM coming in and shouting at her just hours earlier. I walked with her to the room and when we arrived one of the girls indicated that SAM seemed to be settled. I asked the receptionist to wait a few minutes just in case and sure enough, moments later SAM started making his loud noises again. The receptionist realises that this behavior is totally unacceptable and tells SAM that he has to leave the hostel. Lights back on, and crazy SAM is furious. 20 minutes later, the receptionist is shaking and assures me that the police will be here in less than 10 minutes to remove him.

The police arrive and deal with SAM outside our room. It turns out, SAM has a breathing problem and when sleeping he can't help but make these extremely loud noises like snoring. As a result, he often gets very little sleep which explains why he was so unsettled. The fact that he was drunk didn't help in his defense either. I woke up this morning and noticed they had made a special bed for him outside the room.

So, after very little sleep, we get showered and prepare for a long day of traveling to Riga. This doesn't go too smoothly either...

At 9:45 this morning we stood at the international ticket office at Warsaw central train station. I handed the sales associate the clever little itinerary that we researched and prepared in Berlin hoping that she would issue our tickets for the 10:13 train to Riga (we discovered that by traveling to Moscow via Riga we'd avoid taking the more direct route via Minsk in Belarus which unfortunately requires an expensive transit visa). The non-English speaking sales associate communicates to us looking very confused. We only understood a few of her words... "Riga NO... NO RIGA!!" followed by extreme waving of the hands. After extensive use of bad sign language and scribbled diagrams on paper, we discover that there are in fact 2 train stations in Warsaw and we were at the wrong one. With less than 20 minutes left, we take a taxi to the other station.

The taxi driver pulled up, got out of his car and helped us put our bags in the boot but then realised that he had forgot to put the hand brake on. The car started rolling down hill and, instead of correcting the mistake, he holds on to the frame of the car maintaining a 'superman-like' stance thus preventing it from moving. Amused by the drivers lack of common sense, we reluctantly get in his car and 50 bloody zlotes later (about 10 pounds), we arrive at the correct train station. When we get there the station was empty and walked immediately to the international counter. Again met with a non-English speaking woman we go through the same ordeal only this time she tells us that no such train even exists and that the only way to get to Riga is by coach. At this point we are extremely confused and frustrated. Luckily a nice old Polish man who could speak some limited English tried to help us out. After struggling to communicate the directions to where we need to be, the man's wife told him to drive us there and ushered us out to his car. We threw our backpacks in his boot and jumped into the back seats of his car. During the journey he told us about how he used to pick tulips in Holland many years ago and made much more money than he could ever earn in Poland. We arrived at the coach station, thanked him for his troubles and gave him some cash. As he opens the boot of his car to get our bags out, the car starts to roll down the hill. It appears Polish people in general are against the use of hand brakes.

At this point, so mentally and physically tired, we make our way for the 3rd time to the ticket counter in hope of purchasing a ticket to Riga. But again, "No Riga from here... NO!" was the response we got. Somehow we find the motivation and manage to put the following pieces of information together given to us by the woman: bus 517, ticket at tobacco, bus to Irlanskii, buy tickets to Riga!

We take the 517 bus except going in the wrong direction. After a dodgy tour of some interesting Polish neighborhoods we alight and cross the road to catch the same bus going in the opposite direction. We finally get to Irlanskii which happens to be just down the road from the original train station we started out at this morning. We get our tickets to Riga and anticipate the 13 hour coach ride from Poland through Luthuania to Latvia.

Warsaw

We walked into a small church that was filled to capacity with people mourning the recent death of the Pope. As we approached the entrance of the main hall (which was as far as we could get), I felt shivers run through me as everyone stood up just as the priest walked in. We then had no choice but to kneel down on the floor along with the entire church as the priest started to recite prayers. I watch the man in front of me rub his rosary beads every time he speaks. Slightly uncomfortable, I wait for an appropriate time to stand up and leave. Getting out of the church was a difficult task. I stood up, turned around and saw a blanket of people all kneeling down below me. They filled the entire square from the entrance of the church outwards like beans pouring out of a tin. During the small amount of tme that we were in the church, hundreds more people had arrived just in time for the ceremony. I could feel the dissapproving eyes watch me as I rudely make my way through the sea of people taking care not to trip over someone with their head in their hands.

I enjoyed our unexpected stay over in Warsaw. In fact, the next place that we visited is quite possibly my favorite so far. The Old Town is one of the most picturesque places in Warsaw. It has been completely reconstructed after World War II and at present is protected by UNESCO. The town is surrounded by a thick wall of bricks called the Barbican and is a reminder of the medieval roots in Warsaw. I love this place so much. It's very quaint and different. The weather is surprisingly warm with clear blue skies. It's incredibly cheap here too. I look around at the many "tatoo'd" buildings that make make up Old Town and appreciate my unfamiliar surroundings.

I'm intrigued by the street signage here. In addition to the street names on posts at every intersection, downtown they also have matching number plates on each and every individual building. Street signage is one of the many comparisons that I find interesting to make. Take Italy for example, the names of streets are carved into large decorative slabs and built into the facade of the walls. Such a contrast.

Vatican City - Poland (the Irony of it)

As we walked from the central station in Warsaw I noticed several monuments that were covered in candles and flowers. Too tired to investigate, we continue in search of a suitable hostel. On our way, Ali notices a person handing out free newspapers and decided to take one for her collection. It wasn't until we saw the picture of the Pope on the cover that we realised he had died. I found it ironic and almost satisfying that we visited the Vatican City and St. Peter's Basilica just days before his death. Knowing that the Pope was from Poland, we anticipated an interesting few days in Warsaw.

The first hostel we visited had no dorm rooms available so we made our way to the next one on our list, Nathan's Inn. I couldn't be happier here. The hostel has done everything right - it's very new and cheap too! (about 9.00 GBP a night). We get free laundry, free internet, free tea and fresh filter coffee, 24 hour unlimited hot water showers in nice newly rennovated bathrooms, lockers and comfy beds. Needless to say I was a very happy chap.

However, finding an open bar on a Sunday night in Warsaw the night after the announcement of Pope John Paul II's death wasn't easy. Me, Ali, Blaise and Sylvan (friends we met at the hostel - Blaise is a law student from Switzerland and Sylvan is from France but is teaching in London) went in search of basically anywhere that would serve us a drink. The city was extremely quiet as most businesses closed in respect of the recent news. We eventually found a small Turkish bar hidden away down an alley just off the main street complete with water pipes and patterned floor cushions. Taking into consideration that this would be the only good night to stay out late, we continued down the street (following the directions given to us by the Turkish barman) until we arrived at a small club. The four of us where soon joined by eight friendly locals who kindly offered us shots of their vodka.

12:41 Berlin to Warsaw Express

With just over 40 minutes before our train is due to depart, we arrive at the train station prepared to purchase our tickets to Warsaw. We figured a day in Poland would be an interesting stop on our way to Moscow. We entered the ticket office and impatiently waited in the very long queue. 38 minutes later we get our tickets and board the train with only seconds to spare.

In desperate need of washing my hands I locate the bathroom onboard the train. I twisted the notch on the soap dispenser using as little of my finger as possible to avoid contamination, and produced freshly ground flakes of soap. As intriguing as this was, I also noticed that every informational sign on the train was written in four languages and not one of them English. I was excited about the fact that I was heading somewhere that wasn't so accustomed to tourists.

Interview with Ali about recent hair cut:

KM Do you like your new haircut?

AC Yes, I do. I think it might take a few days to settle down though.

KM Are there any parts that you don't like?

AC Not sure if it's defined enough on the top.

KM Do you think the people who walk past and stare at your hair are admiring and possibly even jealous of your hair cut?

AC Mmmm, NO!

KM Do you think I would make a good hair stylist?

AC I think you could be a very creative hair stylist. You showed great enthusiasm and rose to the challenge. Especially after cutting your fingers with the scissors.

After loosing at backgammon 3 times consecutively, I refused to play the childish game a moment longer and decided to write in my journal instead. Just before crossing the Polish border the authorities (consisting of 4 mean looking men with guns in an army-like uniform) made their way along the train checking passports as they go.

Sitting backwards in the direction of travel without a window I realise that we quite possibly have the worst seats on the train and decide to sit in the restaurant carriage for the remainder of the six and a half hour journey. Moments after we got there I couldn't resist ordering some soup and a beer. The soup was called zurek Z jajkiem, kielbasq i pieczywem ("Sour soup with 1/2 an egg, sausage and bread" was the translated description below). Imagine a cream of sausage soup with half a boiled egg and slices of sausage dropped in it. It was delicious and I ate every last drop of it.

Getting maybe a little too relaxed, I take off my trainers, drink some more beer and gaze out of the window at Polish suburbia. Nearing our destination we prepare to head back to our seats until I realise that one of my trainers is missing. Looking around curiously, I notice the table of drunken Polish men next to us sniggering and laughing. Ali notices my trainer hidden behind them and quickly reclaims it on my behalf. I acknowledged their strange sense of humor by smiling and wait for them to leave the carriage. Me and Ali look at each other in disbelief then continue to make our way out of the restaurant car.

Our Last Blitz of Berlin

As we made our way to the Brandenburg gate we passed yet another memorial that was still under construction but almost complete. The memorial that consisted of thousands of large high quality concrete blocks in varying height is dedicated to all the Jews that died during the second world war. When you look at it from the viewing platform you can really see the scale of the project. It's definitely one of the most dramatic memorials I have ever seen. Brandenburg gate was interesting to read about but nothing more than a place for the locals to hang around and socialise. The area, apart from the gate itself was very new and felt very austere like the many other afore mentioned parts of Berlin. From there, we began our long walk to the Berlin Museum of Contemporary Art. I love contemporary art but this gallery unfortunately wasn't worth the 3 hour "short cut" (thanks Ali) it took to get there.

Ate an interesting local dish (of the fast food variety) which didn't seem to have a name as the man behind the counter referred to it as the "Berlin Special". Basically, it was a sausage on a plate covered in ketchup with paprika sprinkled on the top. It tasted pretty good actually.

Our last calling point for the day was the Judisches (Jewish) Museum. The interesting building designed by Daniel Libeskind evokes a shattered star of David using long narrow slits on varying angles that make up the windows on the zig zag shaped building. Apparently, since it's completion it has become a landmark and one of the city's most popular museums.

After our blitz of Berlin museums and symbolic monuments, I began to dread the idea of cutting Ali's hair. After putting it off for almost a week now, she finally handed me the scissors when we arrived back to the hostel and told me where to cut. Operating secretly within the disabled toilet, I cut, chopped and snipped like a pro, and much to our surprise it actually looked ok.

Big Bratwursts

This morning we decided to visit the Bauhaus Museum. There was a temporary exhibition showing the works of Egon Eiermann, a well known architect which was called "Die Kontinvität der Moderne". As I walk around the gallery I started to notice many similarities between graphic design and architecture. I really enjoyed learning about his work and the exhibition was nicely done. Wasn't so impressed with the permanent exhibition however. I don't know what I was expecting but it must have been more than what I saw.

After learning so much about Eiermann's work, we decide to pay a visit to one of his most recently completed projects, the Kaiser-Wilhelm memorial church. Staring up at the unique bell tower, I can't help but wonder what my thoughts on this unusual design would have been had I not learnt so much about it before hand.

Bought a bratwurst from one of the many stalls dotted around the crowded church grounds. The sausage was 3 times longer than the bun it was in!

After lots more walking around the city taking photos as we go, I decide that it's time to retire for the day and so we head back to the hostel.

It's difficult not having my usual daily routine that, like most people, develops as part of a settled/lived-in lifestyle. You forget about the small things like nipping into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm starting to miss home comforts. Looking at this from a different angle however, maybe the "littlest Hobo" life that I am living right now is in fact a whole new routine in itself that I just need to get used to.

Think I need to sleep.

I'm hoping that there won't be a repeat of what happened the other night... I was sound a sleep in the middle of the night when all of a sudden I felt someone touching my leg. Looking down towards the end of the bed I notice that one of my room mates had attached himself to both of my legs. He was curled up in a fetal-like position and the more I shook my legs, the tighter he gripped. Slightly uncomfortable, I start to think about what action to take next until after a few minutes of this awkwardness he sits up and begins to realise what he's done. Embarrassed, he returns to his own bed.