Trans-Siberian: Yekaterinburg to Krasnoyarsk
If you'd like to know a bit more about the Trans-Siberian Railway before reading this post, check out my Introduction to the Trans-Siberian.
Train: 82
Type: Skory
Class: 2nd
Duration: 34 Hours
Time Change: +4 Hours
Unlike our first train, which was half empty, this train was bustling for most of the 34 hours that we were on board.
For our first night, we shared our compartment with a middle aged man named (what else?) Sergei. He was a mathematician by trade, working at the university in Yekaterinburg on a government grant to analyze transportation problems in Russian cities, and he was on his way to Omsk to attend a transportation conference. Or, as he put it, to get away from his 11-year-old twin daughters. And how do I know all of this about Sergei? Because, surprisingly, he spoke pretty fluent English. He also guzzled red wine, which we know because we made the mistake of offering him a glass and he proceeded to drink half the bottle within 20 minutes.
When Sergei got off early on the second morning, two younger men joined us in our compartment–Aleksandr and Kiril. Astoundingly, Aleksandr also spoke English very well. He was soft spoken, but not shy, and enthusiastic about traveling (though he had only left Russia a couple of times). Over the 8 hours we shared, we talked mostly about sports, traveling, food, and (lightly) politics. He asked a lot of questions about life in Canada and was, like most Russians we've met, very surprised that we were doing this trip. I suppose when Siberia is your backyard and the train is your only affordable means of transport, it doesn't exactly seem like a dream vacation.
Around dinner time, Aleksandr got off and it was just me, Michael, and Kiril in our compartment. Though not at all unfriendly, Kiril wasn't exactly a talker (granted, he didn't really speak English). Assuming we were going to have a quiet night, Michael and I made our way to the dining cart and ended up running into a 21-year-old Dutch girl named Maika–the first 'tourist' we've come across on the entire trip. Like us, she's en route from Moscow to Beijing. And also like us, she hadn't met a single other tourist until that moment. Clearly the end of November isn't peak season on the Trans-Siberian.
Before going to bed, we had a few beers and a cup-o-noodles, enjoying talking to another native English speaker for the first time in a while. (Okay, she's not actually a native English speaker, but she's Dutch and that's pretty close). And after another very sweaty night of half-sleeping, our provodnista woke us up at 6:00am as we pulled into Krasnoyarsk.
Although it hasn't been warm since we arrived in Russia, Krasnoyarsk was the first place that really felt like winter. Especially when we arrived at our Airbnb in the pitch black at 6:20am and discovered that both of our phones had frozen and died. After some mild panicking, we figured out the buzzer number and got in, thankful at that point for the insanely high temperatures at which most Russians keep their apartments.
The main reason that people stop in Krasnoyarsk is not to spend time in the city itself, but to go hiking in Stolby Nature Reserve. Unfortunately, when it's -20 and you don't have hiking boots or ski pants, it's sort of hard to pull that off. So we compromised and took the chairlift to the top of the ski hill and then walked along the crest of the mountain until we couldn't feel our toes anymore. Which was approximately 10 minutes later for Michael. I've never seen him so close to crying. Of course, the day after we left Krasnoyarsk, the clouds rolled in and it warmed up to a balmy -5. But at least we got the view on a clear day.
Despite being really fucking cold, Krasnoyarsk was a great place to spend a couple of days. With mountains on one side and a river running through the middle, it's quite naturally beautiful. It's small enough to walk around, but big enough to have a great selection of bars and restaurants. The bus system is incredible, with tons of buses pulling into the stop at all times and women on board who come and collect your payment. And, like everywhere we've been, the people we met were friendly and accommodating–from servers, to grocery store tellers, to the chairlift operators who turned the chair on just for us. There's definitely less English spoken than in Moscow or Saint Petersburg, but we were still able to fumble through pretty easily.
So, after a couple of nights out on the town and less hiking than anticipated, we packed our bags and headed back to the train station.
