SIBERIA
The Russian officer who
visits my compartment takes
a lot of time examining my
passport. She looks closely
at me for some time, saying
absolutely nothing, as if
waiting for me to crack under
the pressure of the silence
A
fter waiting around for several hours
in a snug cafe at the Russian frontier
station of Zabaikalsk, Sergei, the
provodnik (guard) for my carriage appears
from the icy platform and insists I get back
on our train immediately. He’s changed
into his full-dress uniform and is also now
wearing punishingly strong aftershave. On
the table in my compartment I find a small
pile of forms to complete in preparation for
the border. This all makes me wonder quite
what sort of a crossing it’s going to be.
You have to be a relaxed kind of person
to not feel a mild sense of anxiety at an
international border. Of course, you know
the purpose of your travel is legitimate and
that your papers are in order, but at the
back of your mind, there’s a lingering self-
doubt that you might look a bit suspicious.
In fact, you feel that you might look even
more guilty by trying not to look guilty.
The Russian officer who visits my
compartment takes a lot of time examining
my passport. She looks closely at me for
some time, saying absolutely nothing, as if
waiting for me to crack under the pressure
of the silence. She stares right into my
very soul while tapping my passport in
one hand and considering what to do with
me. Conferring with a colleague, they talk
about me at some length in the corridor.
She returns and points at the photo page.
“Wrong date,” she says. Does she think it’s a
forgery? Perhaps I’m going nowhere today,
stuck between the regions of Siberia and
Manchuria in the depths of the winter.
Sergei is conspicuous by his absence, and
without his translation services, I speak
slowly and slightly loudly. The officers look
at each other like I’m talking gibberish
and decide to seek advice from a higher
authority on how to deal with the man in
carriage four with a counterfeit passport.
They return with reinforcements. Rather
worryingly, some carry assault weapons
and they also now have a large dog, which
clearly isn’t a pet. The best English speaker
in the unit translates my explanations.
They look at me like it can’t be true that
I have a passport valid for more than 10
years, but eventually concede that it might
be possible, just that they’ve never seenCrossing one of the world’s remotest borders by train proves to be a
challenging experience — not least when faced with a language barrierone before. It takes more than an hour to
sort things out, but eventually, it’s stamped
and returned.
Five hours after we arrived at Zabaikalsk,
the Vostok trundles out of the station,
complete with its new narrower-gauge
bogies (transport trailers). It’s getting dark
and I turn the lights out so I can see better
outside, to find out what happens where
Russia meets China.
The Chinese like to make a statement
with their borders: in the distance are
the colourful bright lights of Manzhouli
with its big business hotels, casinos and
concrete follies. As my eyes adjust, I notice
the cameras. Hundreds of them, pointing in
all directions. Cameras looking at cameras.
Even cameras angled to look directly
into the carriages of our train. Soldiers
are standing to attention in little sentry
boxes. Then no buildings; just fences, more
cameras and searchlights. This must be
no man’s land. On the opposite line, a
train arrives with a fresh delegation of
officials who climb on board our train in
small detachments. When the officer who
appears at the door of my compartment
sees my British passport, he briefly
admires the Christmas decorations I’ve
hung up before wishing me a “Happy New
Year!” with a warm smile and a vigorous
handshake.
Life would be rather dull if everything
went smoothly all the time. And this is
especially true when you’re travelling.
I’ve taught myself to use the time to
talk to people. Conversation with fellow
passengers is an essential part of any rail
adventure and there’s always a shared bond
from the train border experience. You
might only have a few words in common,
but a smile (and sometimes a bottle of
vodka) often reveals more of life than you
might imagine. You meet incredible people
on trains. Sometimes a little crazy, but
always memorable.The Railway to Heaven: From the UK to Tibet on
the longest and highest railways in the world by
Matthew Woodward is published by Lanna Hall,
RRP £8.95
@ontherailsNOTES FROM AN AUTHOR // MATTHEW WOODWARD
SMART TRAVELLERILLUSTRATION: JACQUI OAKLEY
May/Jun 2020 35SMART TRAVELLER