Travel through time on the Trans-Siberian

The Marlborough Express

Covering 9288km, the Trans-Siberian railway is one of the longest in the world. HELEN HILL boards the train for six days and nights. 

Today's Trans-Siberian traveller is treated to a sleek, clean, comfortable, modern passenger train, each carriage with its own attendant, charged with seeing to our comfort en route.

The narrow, carpeted corridor was lined with spacious windows framed with curtains, opposite which were nine doors, each leading to a four-berth compartment.

Under the bottom ones was ample space to store our packs, suitcases and groceries. Further storage space extended above the corridor, stocked at this point with pillows and blankets.

Each bunk had a night light on the far wall and a table between the two bottom bunks which doubled as our daytime seating.

The double-glazed window was a bit grubby, but we made the best of it. Housekeeping, it turned out, was the daily irresponsibility of the carriage attendant.

At one end of the corridor a zip, the modern version of the traditional samovar, provided constant hot water for tea, coffee and noodles and at each end of the carriage was a clean toilet, with a window that opened and not repugnantly odorous.

I also discovered, thanks to the inside knowledge of our group leader, Sveta, that in fact the train had a shower, for which one had to pay, but this was an unexpected bonus; something that no pre-trip publicity had mentioned.

Rather, prospective travellers were advised to bring a universal plug and have a (cold) strip wash in the toilet handbasin.

All things considered, it seemed a pleasant environment.

Very soon after stowing our bags, we took delivery from the carriage attendant of our mattress, sheets, pillowcases and a small towel, and made up our beds.

One of the great things about long-distance train travel is that it makes not a tittle of difference what time you go to bed, or what time you get up.

There's nothing to do, nowhere to go, nobody making any demands on you.

However, because the Australians in our group, Tony and Irene, had booked a two-berth compartment, we had the "luxury" of going to visit them in first class.

As far as we could tell, this didn't guarantee much more than we had in second, other than the two berths, two mirrors instead of our one, and a television.

We left the compartment open most of the time, except at night, so we could see both sides of the line, but often it didn't really matter.

The scenery on both sides of the line was uniformly the same.

If we weren't passing through stands of birch and pine trees, we were breezing past wide expanses of grassland known as steppe.

Tony and I debated whether the purpose of the trees was to prevent villagers from seeing what was being carried on the railway, or to prevent travellers from seeing what was going on in the countryside.

A little research indicated that shelter-belts, planted since the 1930s, parallel the roads and farms to trap snow in winter, so maybe this also applies to the rail corridor.

There is, however, a thriving timber industry in Russia, evidenced by the many sawmills and freight trains carrying logs that we passed.

The industry's natural resources are comparable to those of the oil industry. In the majority of forest resource indicators, Russia is one of the world leaders.

Occasionally, when there was a break in the trees, I was surprised to see what passed as the main road only a couple of hundred metres away. Not that there was much traffic on the two lanes of very basic sealed carriageway.

We passed by, but seldom through, many villages which looked as if they were frozen in time.

Sealed, but poorly maintained, roads peter out to dust and gravel, with no footpaths.

Power lines wreathe the upper reaches of the streets and many roofs sport satellite dishes.

Nevertheless, as Sveta explained, many of the houses didn't have running water, because hydro-electricity is cheap to produce, albeit the infrastructure is often unreliable, but water reticulation schemes are not.Few new houses are to be seen in these villages.

Typically the dwellings are of wood, blackened through age, with highly ornate window frames and shutters.

All around each house is a vegetable garden, right up to the walls; there's no space for lawns or recreation.

In Irkutsk, where we left the train for sightseeing, our city guide, Damien, told us that the many examples of these houses still there are slated for demolition.

They occupy space and provide homes for only one family and the space could be better occupied by flats in which many more people could be accommodated.

Further, many are in a poor state of repair and they often don't have services connected, so there is concern about the standard of living of their occupants.

Occasionally the train stops at bigger towns or cities, such as Krasnoyarsk, Perm, Ekaterinburg, where passengers can get off the train and have a walk on the platform, take photos or buy food and drink, for 10, 15 or even 30 minutes.

Seldom is there only one, or even two platforms. Often there are six, seven, or more, each hosting a train of some sort.

Railway stations are often the most impressive buildings in town.

They are all beautifully painted in pastel shades of green, yellow, blue, even brown, and well maintained.

Near some cities one sees industrial sites, factories belching smoke, and others that look derelict, but it's almost impossible to know what they're producing.

The train travels through seven time zones, so most days you have to put your watch back at least one hour.

One day, at 9.30am, Sveta told us to wind back two hours, which took two of us back to before we had even got up!

Fortunately, by the time we arrived at Moscow on an overcast, drizzly afternoon, we were sufficiently up to date to know that the schedule had been maintained to the exact minute.