Wednesday
25th April. My leave without pay starts
tomorrow, even though we’re getting closer to Moscow with fewer stops. The
first stop today was at Tyumen
[2144km from Moscow] at about half past six. I was already up (at about 6.10)
and only Robert and I went outside. There was another train on the other side
of our platform going the other way. This is not unusual.
But there was a crowd of people gathered. They were seeing off their
mates, sons, brothers, who were, I presume, conscripts. Some had shaved heads.
Some of the guys seeing them off had small guitars which they played and sang
to. Very poorly. One of them had glasses and long hair – radical…
[Tyumen was the first Russian
settlement in Siberia (1586). Population in 2010 was 581,907, though in 1984 it
was likely about 450,000. Lenin’s body was secretly moved to Tyumen during WWII
in case Moscow was captured by the German Army. Tyumen people apparently don’t
have an accent – or they speak the same Russian as people in St Petersburg or
in Tver. Irving Berlin was born (possibly) in Tyumen, and certainly lived there
in childhood.]
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| Motives of Russian architecture, 1874. This is a postcard I received last January from someone who lives in Tyumen (through postcrossing.com) |
Though I got up early, I was still tired so I tried to sleep before
breakfast, which was an omelette with apple juice. Ian, Kathy and Roger. [Ian and Kathy were from London, and they said when they got back they would take some tours in London, because they'd never done so before.]
The next stop was at Sverdlovsk [1818km from Moscow], a city of 1.2 million
people, eleven higher educational institutions and about two hundred industrial
complexes. [And
I didn’t realize until the other day that Sverdlovsk was the Soviet name for
Ekaterinburg, which place the Tsar and his family were disposed of.] It
is the capital of the Urals. This stop was just before lunch – soup again, and
probably meat and chips again, I don’t know, I can’t remember and does it
really matter? We had apricot soda/mineral water, which is not as nice as the
apple juice because it has the mineral water taste. I think I sat with the
Hampsons and David McKinnon. The Hampsons are great fun. [I used to visit them and stay at their house in
Sydney during the ‘90s. They were they only other passengers I kept in contact
with after returning to Australia. They’re probably in their eighties, now.]
With the gently rolling hills which nobody takes much notice of,
there comes a slight change of scenery. There are taller trees, the wooden
houses have more decorative decorations, and there are patches of green trying
to come through. But still, there is the occasional clump of icy snow waiting
to melt, but not as much as before.
The day rolls on with the train; we keep ourselves amused by bashing
each other up, or playing cards, or sleeping, or butchering horses. Whatever
takes our fancy. We stop in Perm
[1437km from Moscow], one of the longest stops and I can’t even remember
what was there or what time of day it was. [Late afternoon or early evening] Train travel like
this haulage must have that effect on people. But after Perm we followed a
river, the name of which will appear on any good map of this part of the USSR
but I have not got such a map at hand. The river is reportedly ten kilometres
wide at some points, unless it is a different river in the area that they are
reporting on. [The Kama River,
which is a tributary of the great Volga River.]
Our
last dinner on the train was a special one, so most of us wore ties. They
provided Russian champagne but the food wasn’t much different. Bernie Dickinson
stood up and gave a short speech about peace and we had thirty seconds of
silence for ANZAC Day. Coincidentally, the train had stopped before and started
again just after the half minute was over. [Bernie Dickinson might have been a Vietnam Veteran.]
After dinner, everyone was merry and a crowd had a singsong in the
corridor. At the moment I can’t shout, let alone sing, because for some strange
reason for the past few days I’ve lost certain parts of my voice. I can speak
all right, though.
We
had a stop at Balezino at 11pm local time (9pm Moscow) and Paul and I ran up to
the front of the train to watch a new locomotive being added. I have no idea
how often the locos are changed, but I do know that they are massive – very
high and solid. They make one feel very small. [This just in from Wikipedia: It (Balezino) is an important station of the Trans-Siberian Railway,
situated roughly in the center between Kirov and Perm, and is a junction point
of 25kV AC rail line going to Kirov and 3kV DC line going to Perm. Long
distance trains stop for at least thirty minutes at the Balezino station for
maintenance, which includes the engine replacement from AC one to DC one. Well,
that explains a lot.]
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| Balezino Station as it is in this photo on Wikpedia. |
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