The Great Train Adventure

Wooden Church in Suzdal

Lin’s Journal – Friday, 9 Oct
We decided to visit Suzdal, one of the Golden Ring cities that were powerful medieval principalities. We left Moscow Tuesday morning and it took us an hour and a half to get from our hostel to the bus station to Vladimir, figuring out our transfers on the metro, and we were relieved to find a bus that would leave in about half an hour. We stood outside by the designated platform, eventually wondering why it seemed late, when Sarah suddenly realized the final destination town had been writen, not Vladimir, and we had missed it! We went back inside and were directed to the administrator, who was not there. Sarah tried to explain the situation to a neighboring office but was told nothing could be done. Finally the administrator returned and cheerfully walked back to the ticket window with Sarah and got us on a faster bus leaving at 3:00, letting us replace our old tickets with the new ones.

We transferred in Vladimir to a local bus that would take us to Suzdal, a distance we estimated to take about an hour. Suddenly Sarah thought she heard the driver say “Suzdal,” but all I could see was someone getting off the bus onto the side of the road in the dark with nothing around. The driver and nearby passengers confirmed that this was indeed Suzdal, so we rushed to get off and get our baggage from below, then stood bewildered in the rainy darkness. We crossed the highway and found the bus station, where we had been told the bus would stop. The only car in front of the small station was a taxi, but the driver rudely dismissed us when we showed him the address of our hostel. As I braced myself to walk the mile into town, Sarah was trying to explain our plight to a young couple, the man said “You can speak in English.” Turns out he had been a foreign exchange student in Macomb, Illinois, and he had his girlfriend’s father reluctantly drive us to the main street.

In complete darkness we followed the directions we’d been given in Moscow, dragging our luggage over rough wet stones and mud, down an embankment and along a river. The hostel was not at the address listed in our guidebook, but two young boys appeared and led us, although we weren’t sure at first if they really knew where they were going. But they knocked on the one lit window of a building still under construction and a cheerful Russian woman welcomed us. By now it was late at night and we just made it to a convenience store for some food before it closed.

We spent the next day exploring this pastoral town of many churches and historical sights and enjoying the peacefulness after St. Petersburg and Moscow.

Lin with her water-filled weights in Suzdal

There were only 4 guests in the hostel, and I used the space and privacy to fill my water weights and do a full-fledged workout.

Mural on Train Station Wall, Nizhni Novgorod

From Suzdal we took a bus to Vladimir, where we caught a train for Nizhni Novgorod, the formerly forbidden city of Gorky. There was a night train leaving almost immediately for Kazan which we hoped to get on, but even with the energetic intervention of a local gentleman this turned out to be impossible. We asked him to negotiate the next train there, which turned out to be leaving at about 5:30 am. He was horrified at our insistence on going third class, insisting that we would be much more comfortable in a second class coupe. I later realized that he had ordered first class tickets for us on the later train, however since, judging by the fairly high number it was one of the worst categories of train this probably was just as well. He then tried to insist that we go to a hotel for the night, and once again threw up his hands in horror when he learned that we prefered to spend the night in one of the sleeping rooms provided by the rail station for guests leaving on late night or early morning trains. These turned out to be right across from the station, and cost only about $7 a piece. The neighborhood, according to our protector, was dangerous, but we were perfectly secure in our rooms guarded by several vigilent ladies of about our age. The only glitch came when we showed the attendant our paperwork– which turned out not to quite match regulations. For a little bit it looked like we might be tossed back out on the street, but after much filling out of forms and discussion– which consisted in large part of the attendant looking alternately annoyed and distressed and wondering aloud how she was supposed to explain things to these two hopeless foreigners we were eventually shown to a spartan room with a toilet at the end of the hall.

Despite indications that our floor attendant would knock on our door to wake us in plenty of time in the morning, no knock came, but we had set an alarm for four, so this caused no difficulty. Having nearly missed the train to Nizhni Novgorod after having either been misdirected or, more likely, not having understood the directions regarding the track, I was determined to be out waiting for the Kazan train as soon as a track number was posted. We still had difficulties, however, because there was a train waiting in the section of the track indicated when we arrived. It was empty and unlit, however, and after a young couple disappeared further down the track I noticed that another train – this one lit– was waiting there. I ran down the platform to check it and soon saw that it was indeed our train. I looked back and found to my relief that Lin had already begun to follow, having guessed that we had been standing in the wrong place. I got up to the ticket taker and saw that the young woman from the couple who had been waiting beside the empty train with us earlier was clearly preparing to come back to warn us, so perhaps we would not have missed the train after all, but once again it was too close for comfort.  This confusion over where the trains leave from- obviously shared by many Russians, is the only aspect of train travel here that I really dislike.

I dozed until it was light and then sat glued to the window for hours, watching the Russian scenery go by. There is an odd, translucent quality to the light here that seems at times almost eerie. It is as if the countryside is a painting that has been given a light overlay of silver wash. It made my imagination wild with images of gryphons and elven maidens slipping through the trees, camoflaged in silvery capes.

Newly Rebuilt Mosque, inside Kremlin walls in Kazan

We got to Kazan in the early afternoon and took a room at the Hotel Milena, not far from the train station. For the first time we had a private room with a bathroom, and it cost only a little more than our hostel beds. Clearly things are getting cheaper the further East we go. Yesterday we spent all day exploring the city’s Kremlin and state museum. As we were trying to find a restaurant with typically Tatar food we met Roza, a local woman with a son in San Francisco. She accompanied us to one of the ones we had heard about and helped us pick out local dishes to try. My younger self would have been horrified, but I decided to try the horsemeat dish. It tasted just like my mother’s beef stew.

With our new friend Roza at a traditional Tatar restaurant

Godzilla Hostel in Suzdal from the opposite side of the river.

The next day we set off for Suzdal, where a sign up at the hostel said that Godzilla’s had just opened a new branch. Though we started off in the morning, navigating the metro this time was more challenging than we expected, involving a complicated change and then riding one of the metros to the end of the line, so we didn’t get there until after 1. We saw that there was a bus going in about 40 minutes and we got tickets on it. The platform was clearly marked and so we thought we couldn’t go wrong, but we waited and waited until past the time and didn’t see the bus. When we asked, it turned out we’d missed it after all. It had been marked with its end station of Murom, and looked like it was at platform 4 rather than 5. We were told to see the administrator, but no one was in the booth when we went, so we tried the booth next to it. She told us there was nothing she could do, so we went back to the nice ticket lady who sold us the ticket. She threw up her hands in surprise when she saw us, and again told us that only the administrator could do anything for us. We went back to wait in front of the booth but found that it was now occupied. A very nice woman understood our problem and went into the back. In a few minutes she reappeared with a man who initialed our tickets for her and she walked me back to the ticket counter. On the way I thought to tell her we were actually going to Suzdal– our initial tickets had been to Vladimir, where we expected to catch another bus to Suzdal.

The bus ride seemed long and tiring. I meant to try and ask the busdriver when we got to Vladimir to tell us when we got to Suzdal, but there was only a brief break there and we had to run quickly to the bathroom, so there wasnt time. I wasn’t sure how far it was to Suzdal, but I thought about an hour from Vladimir. When it seemed that about that length of time had gone by the bus stopped by the side of the road as it often had before at unmarked spots to let passengers off and I suddenly heard, “Suzdal!” Lin hadn’t heard it and said, no, they were just letting passengers off again, but I was fairly sure and began asking other passengers, who confirmed that this random stop in the dark was, in fact, Suzdal. We gathered up our things quickly and as we got off I asked the driver, “Bus Station?” He pointed to the opposite side of the highway. Fortunately the highway wasn’t busy that time of night and was only two or three lanes. Nevertheless as we reached the side of the road two headlights came directly toward me out of a side street. I stood for a moment like a deer, not knowing which way to dodge, but fortunately it must have seen me and veered off.

We reached the bus station and then began the next adventure of trying to find our hostel. We had a crude map, drawn by Scott at the Moscow hostel, and he had said there would probably be taxis at the station. There was one, in fact, but when we tried to talk to him he just told us he didn’t know where it was and wasn’t going anywhere. Then he rolled up his window and that was that. We went into the station to see if we could find out anything else and very fortunately ran into a young man who had studied at Western Illinois University. He was on his way to Vladimir and his girlfriend had come with her father to see him off. The young man volunteered the girlfriend’s father to take us into town, which he did rather grufffly but very kindly. We followed the map which directed us to a winding cobbled path hugging the river. We walked for what seemed an endless way, finally coming across a man and woman. They had no idea where this hostel was. Another man in an official uniform confirmed that we were on the right road, but also had no knowledge of this hostel. I finally found the number and was about to knock on the door when two boys came up and asked if we were looking for Godzilla hostel. “Come on,” they said– which turned out to be about the extent of their English. We followed for awhile and then the path turned pitch dark and Lin began to wonder if we should follow them. “I don’t suppose it could be a trap, could it,” she asked, and I, who had been willing to trust up until that point, began to wonder too. However they kept urging us on and finally we came to what looked to be an unoccupied house under construction. There was a light on and one of the boys went up and knocked while we hung back uncertainly. A woman came to the door and the boys said, “Godzilla?” “Da, da, Godzilla,” she replied. As we went inside I heard one of the boys say to Lin, “Money?” “How much should I give him?” she asked. “I don’t know, ten rubles,” I said off the top of my head. She handed the older boy 10 rubles. He looked a little disatisfied and I thought he might object, but he merely said, “Spaciba” and left.

The manager of the Moscow Godzilla, Scott, had warned us we should get registered at every place we went but the woman here, Larisa, said 1 of our passports was enough. It didn’t seem likely that she knew much about getting us registered, and anyway we were too tired to try and ask. There were only a couple of other guests, and none of the amenities promised in the guide book. In fact the hostel was still very much under construction. In place of the promised balconies off each room was a sign warning to keep the door closed– that there was a steep drop off it it. The German couple who were having dinner when we came in said that they had tried to get on the internet at the post office, but that the connection wasn’t working. They hadn’t been able to discover that there was any internet in Suzdal, although the guidebook insisted there was an internet cafe in the white-pillared complex we had passed on the way. We were both starving and Larisa said that there were plenty of restaurants in the center and that they were open. We had no luck finding them that night, though, and had to settle for a few things from the convenience store. The hostel was quite large and attractive, full of wood paneling and with a nice, traditional looking mural on the wall. Our room was a large four-bunk room with a bathroom and we had it to ourselves. Strangely, Larisa tried to put two new guests who came quite late in the same room as the German couple, who were already asleep and doubtless not happy to have the light coming on suddenly. The two new guests fortunately managed to convince her to give them one of the empty rooms. Although having a brand-new bathroom for each room is quite a luxury for a hostel, it seemed fair that we should have this to ourselves since the builders were still at work — starting fairly early in the morning– and the price was the same as the Moscow hostel.

Intercession Cathedral and Convent, Suzdal

We took the room for 2 nights, and in the morning set out to explore. We crossed the river on a footbridge and walked up to a lovely old convent. Outside the gates a classic little old Russian woman stood, selling crude homemade lollipops for 4 rubles each. I bought one and stuck it in my pocket, not sure if I wanted to eat it. The convent was the home of the 1st wife of Vasily the 3rd, who, divorced for barenness, according to legend found herself pregnant shortly after her husband remarried. The story that she gave birth to a boy, whose existence she hid by holding a fake burial was given credence when the tomb of the child was opened recently and found to be empty. If the story is true, she was undoubtedly wise, since her son’s half-brother grew up to be Ivan the Terrible. Whatever the truth, the convent grounds seemed to me to hold a wonderful atmosphere. Flowers were blooming despite the cold and the only other person we saw in the courtyard was a woman gardening.

From the convent we moved on, back across the river to a huge complex of monastery buildings enclosed in a great wall. I thought this must be Suzdal’s kremlin, but Lin said no, this was just the monastery complex. There were a number of sights to see, but the main church was closed. So we both chose to see the golden treasure and I went to the manuscript collection while Lin saw the prison. The golden treasure was just about what you might expect of a ‘treasure room’ in a museum– full of precious objects from history, some of them dating back before Christ. The manuscripts, however, I found quite impressive. It was a full range, from illuminated bibles or parts of bibles, to missals and chronicles among the oldest manuscripts, to childrens’ copybooks (including one which I understood to say was either Peter the Great’s as a child or with corrections from Peter the Great’s hand), to early printed histories right through communist pamphlets from the time of the Russian Revolution. Among the more impressive exhibits was a huge illuminated bible with a sold gold engraved cover. It was placed over a mirror and lifted up slightly so you could see both the open page and the cover.

We walked back through the town looking for an ATM for me and strolled along the rows of tables selling crafts in front of the old trade center. I saw a cup with a beautiful illustration from a Russian fairy tale that I thought would be just perfect for my tea on the train, but I didn’t want to spend the money (even though it was only 100 rubles) until I was sure I could get more, so Lin set off for the Kremlin and Peasants Village while I looked into the more prosaic side of the town- banking and internet facilities. I bought a pastie-type pastry which turned out to be filled with hot carrots and cabbage from a sweet old babushka, who kindly let me take her picture– after carefully rearranging her wares to appear at their best. Getting her to look at the camera, however, proved beyond my powers.

Pastry seller in Suzdal

Wooden Church in Peasants' Village

Finding a bank turned out to be easy- strolling back toward the Post Office I saw a sign saying ‘Exchange 200 m’ pointing down a side street. Thinking I could at least exchange some of my euros and dollars if nothing else, I walked down the little street until I came to a branch of the Bank of Russia– with an ATM machine! The internet problem, on the other hand, turned out to be more difficult. I went back to the trade center and looked for the internet cafe rumored to be there, but couldn’t find it. So I bought the nice mug with my new cash and headed off to the Kremlin. I met Lin just coming back the other way. The Kremlin, she said, was being renovate and there wasn’t much to see, but the Peasants’ Village was interesting. So I bypassed the Kremlin and hurried back across the river to see the Village before it closed. The Peasants’ Village is a collection of all wood houses disassembled and reassembled here from around Russia. These are the classic wooden buildings made by carefully fitting wood pieces together– no nails– and often beautifullly decorated with wood carvings. The churches, of which there are three in the village, are especially impressive. One of them seemed to be a working church. I snapped a picture of some of the icons before noticing that several ladies were lined up to kiss the main icon. Abashed, I put my camera away and went back to the front to buy a postcard instead. I found the attendant at the souvenir stand deep n prayer, head properly covered and hands and lips moving in earnest entreaty- doubtless for the protection of her soul against godless philistines like me.

Lin in front of St. Basil's Cathedral

We got to Moscow on Sunday morning early and managed to navigate the metro and find our hostel. Some people in St. Petersburg recommended Godzilla, which I was happy to accept since it also had free wireless. We had a hard time finding anything open for breakfast, even though it was close to 10 am by then. The first day there I spent basically vegetating in the room. Lin immediately set off on a city tour. It turned out Richard and Laura, from the hostel in St. Petersburg were there before us, and Laura recommended a vegetarian restaurant they had come upon. We went there for dinner and found it pretty inexpensive. It was Indian style and had a pleasant atmosphere.

 The next day we went to the Kremlin and Red Square. St. Basil’s Cathedral was as gorgeous as in all the pictures, but I hadn’t realized what it looked like on the giant square, with the old GUM dept. store (now a luxury shopping mall) on the other side. After going inside and while standing out on the square again we saw a couple of boys hop over the wrought iron gate of some monument or fountain. People had thrown coins in and two of the boys were filling their pockets as fast as they could while the third kept watch.

 As we were walking toward the Kremlin Gates, after visiting GUM we heard a frantic cheeping sound. It was like a mechanical toy, but we looked and saw that a young man had caught a live sparrow. Whenever it would calm down slightly he would stroke its head to make it cheep again. We walked on without waiting to find out the bird’s fate.

Walls of the Kremlin

 I had never heard anything about the amazing churches inside the Kremlin — probably because most of the people I knew who had been to Moscow were there when the Kremlin was still a closed enclave. Just inside is the Church of the Assumption– one of the oldest churches in the city. It is covered with icons and murals and filled with sarcophagi of Tsars and nobles. As we walked around, soaking in the ancient atmosphere a quintet of monks burst into song. Their voices and the part singing were extremely fine. Afterwards, we each bought a copy of one of their CDs. As one of the monks was signing mine, the remaining four gave another short performance. The accoustics, as in many ancient churches, were wonderful and it was lovely to have such an appropriate accompaniment to the icons and arches of the church.

Ancient Church on the left as you enter the Gates of the Kremlin

Church of the Assumption, inside the Gates of the Kremlin

We couldn’t locate the internet cafe in Suzdal, where we spent a pleasant two days. Now we are in Vladimir at an internet cafe waiting for our train to Nizhni Novgorod, which will get in this evening. As soon as we find a reliable internet connection and some time we will be updating you all on our adventures. For now, I’ll just say we’re having a great time and it’s all quite fascinating! Will write more as soon as we can…

Petersburg certainly made amends for our first day of drizzle. Yesterday it was blue skies for most of the day followed by an amazing view of its beautiful skyline under a full moon. Unfortunately my battery ran out as the sun was going down, so I have no pictures of it, but here are some pictures of our day at the Hermitage and afternoon and evening with the wonderful Galina, who showed us all over the city.

The Malachite Room at the Hermitage

Lin in front of Malachite Pilars at the Hermitage

The Malachite Room must be one of the most beautiful rooms in this or any palace. On the other hand, the library probably would have been a lot nicer place to hang out…

The Library at the Hermitage

After the Hermitage we went back to our hostel and a delightful lady I met on Couchsurfing came to meet us. She drove us all over the city, took us into the Peter and Paul fortress and several other churches and palaces and explained the history and famous residents of each.  The night skyline of St. Petersburg, amazing at any time, was especially gorgeous under a full moon.

Economics Faculty St Petersburg

Unfortunately I didn’t get a real picture of our hostess, but here she is on our first stop, the beautiful Smolyenski Church, walking past the building which now houses the Economics Faculty of the University.

Lin and I sitting on the knees of this rather odd modern sculpture of Peter the Great.

Inside the Peter and Paul Fortress is this modern sculpture of Peter the Great, which has apparently aroused a lot of controversy. He has a tiny head and a barrel chest and incredibly long, thin fingers.

We wanted to take Galina out to dinner, but unfortunately it was getting late and she had to get home. She dropped us close to our hostel and we stopped in at a Russian fast food chain- Teremok for our first real Russian meal. I had buckwheat kasha with chicken, a cheese blinny and kvas. For desert I couldn’t resist a wild berry blinny with whipped cream. Good, fast, and actually quite healthy!

Tonight we’re taking the overnight train to Moscow. This is when the real journey begins!