{"id":158,"date":"2019-10-20T22:02:37","date_gmt":"2019-10-20T22:02:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/expatkaliningrad.com\/?p=158"},"modified":"2022-09-18T20:53:33","modified_gmt":"2022-09-18T18:53:33","slug":"into-russia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/expatkaliningrad.com\/ru\/into-russia\/","title":{"rendered":"Into Russia"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>\n

Into Russia (27 December 2000)<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Updated 12 September 2022 | First published 20 October 2019 ~ Into Russia<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We had left England only three days ago but already the cheap hooch, relatively cheap by British standards, and recourse to a hip flask was taking its toll. A lot of quips and asides about British spies and gulags had joined forces with our excesses and were beginning to seep out of us in a low-brow paranoia. It didn\u2019t help that my future wife-to-be, Olga, had started to take a perverse delight in our advertised insecurity and was adding to it by slow degrees with quips and asides of her own. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Previous article: Boxing Day in Gdansk<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Farewell Gdansk!<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I will never forget our exit from our hotel in Gdansk, but\nfirst our planned itinerary: Leaving Poland today, it was our intention to stay\nfor seven days in the Kaliningrad region and then return to the same hotel by\ntrain and taxi, prior to leaving for England the following day from Gdansk\nAirport. We had booked our rooms in advance, so on leaving for Russia this\nmorning the staff knew of our plans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Meats and cheeses had not been available this morning as we\nwere off to the railway station at 5.30am. We were travel weary and hungover.\nThe Sausage was obviously not in the mood to be disturbed at that time of\nmorning either, as twice on the way downstairs, once when vacating the room and\nthen when accessing the lift, it had jammed itself at a silly angle in both\ndoorways, necessitating a volley of imprecations and a couple of stout clouts. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We had settled the bill and were standing in the hotel doorway\njust as our taxi rolled up. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGoodbye,\u201d I called, to the hotel staff, \u201csee you soon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOr, perhaps not!\u201d Olga retorted slyly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The hotel staff chuckled; we looked alarmed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before we could even consider not being seen again once we were on the other side of the Iron Curtain, we had the train journey to contend with. A large part of my Lever Arch file containing research on our trip had been devoted to the precariousness of travelling on Polish railways. As we were driven from the hotel to the station, I wondered what I was going to use. The FCO advice was to secure your train carriage door with a piece of flexible wire, but, strangely enough, I had nothing like that on me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Into Russia via Gdansk<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

It was snowing again and the train was late. The more I eyed our fellow would-be travellers roving around at the station, the more suspicious they seemed to become. On reflection, they were probably thinking the same about me. What is that bloke staring at?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At last, our magic carpet to Russia rolled in. It was a great chugging piece of clanking, rattling metal; a big old box of a tool, slow and cumbersome and stinking of diesel fumes. If ever a train was designed to house denizens from the deep, this was it!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

These big old trains were high old trains and getting into them meant climbing up four or five steps. Now, the Sausage was dead set against this and had, in no uncertain terms, to be \u2018persuaded\u2019. I may have been mistaken but it seemed that three or four of our potential assailants on seeing how brutally we treated the Sausage fell back. In any event, they were right behind us when we got on ~ a surly mob if ever I saw one ~ but did not follow us when we turned immediately right into the first compartment. That is correct ~ compartment. These trains ~ or, at least, this particular train ~ are compartmentalised, with small self-contained \u2018rooms\u2019 running down the right side and a corridor on the left. In England they had more or less phased these out in preference for open-plan carriages. As Mr Woolworth once said, \u2018Load them in and stack them high!\u2019 ~ well, he didn\u2019t really, but he did say something to this effect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There we were in our compartment, the three of us, two bags and the Sausage. Potential assailants were still climbing onto the train, and some of them not only looked in our carriage, they positively leered ~ where\u2019s that piece of flexible wire when you need it! But at last the column thinned out and with our compartment now full ~ two old ladies and a boy the size of a stick ~ we could breathe a sigh of relief. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I cannot remember whether we had chosen this carriage as it was close to the toilet or not, but the toilet was close, next door to us in fact. As soon as the train pulled out of the station, sounding as if it had taken half the tracks with it, I ventured to the bog, peeping furtively this way and that, as if life had suddenly become an old black and white suspense film.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The toilet certainly looked as if it belonged to a black and white something or other, or perhaps a better description would be a brown something. Like the train itself, and its passengers, it was a rough and neglected piece of equipment ~ a metal funnel sans-seat with a hole in the base where a trap should have been. I was mighty glad that I had only gone in there for a jimmy and nothing more substantial, as the icy blast up the hole was ~ would have been ~ most disconcerting. A second and third discomfort was ~ surprise, surprise ~ that the door did not shut and the place where you stood to position yourself in front of the pan seemed to be on a connection plate linked to the carriage\u2019s hook-up system. Whatever it was, it was moving erratically, jerking from side to side and jumping up and down. I made two mental notes that day as regards Polish toilets on Polish trains (1) don\u2019t wear white trousers; (2) bring your own toilet roll. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat took you long enough,\u201d brother remarked on my return\nto the carriage. I made a third note, \u2018don\u2019t rely on brother if you happen to\ngo missing\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Into
On the way to the Russian border, 27 December 2000<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Frozen lakes, snow and ice, acres of white-capped pine forests, little cottages with smoke curling out of their chimneys and red-brick Gothic castles ~the journey out of Poland had both a picturesque magic about it and an air of formidability: with each turn of the engine\u2019s wheels Russia was getting nearer! Then, all of a sudden, we were almost there!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No laughing! You are entering Russia!<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

As we approached the Russian border we received strict\ninstructions from Olga to behave ourselves: \u201cPlease refrain from making your\nsilly English jokes. Travelling through the Russian border is a very serious\nbusiness!\u201d We composed ourselves accordingly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The heavy old train and its rumbling carriages rolled slowly to a halt. There was nothing much to see. We couldn\u2019t have been in the middle of nowhere, because everybody\u2019s been there, perhaps we were a bit to the left (east) of it. We sat there for what seemed like the proverbial eternity. Olga was right. Crossing the Russian border was a serious business. Nobody said a word; all that could be heard was the rustling of bags and pockets as our fellow passengers fumbled around for their official documentation. At long last eternity ended. A string of Russian personnel, excitingly decked out in the sort of clothes that you would expect them to be wearing, full length woollen great coats, matching hats (ushankas), big boots etc, with the insignia of The Russian Federation emblazoned in all the right places, boarded the train. There were, in total, three men and two women. This was my first sight of real Russian authority, so I craned forward to get a really good look at them. They were all very young. I wouldn\u2019t have thought that any of them were a day older than 25. Ssshhh, they were working their way down the train; they were coming in our direction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Olga was sitting opposite us near the window; Joss and I were next to each other. We had been practising our serious expressions for a good half-hour. Joss was doing well; I had never seen my brother look so serious before, well, perhaps with the exception of the time when he accidentally bought a round in the pub.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally, the cavalcade of Russian authority stopped at us. We were asked, brusquely, to produce our passports. Both Joss and I did so in the most orthodox and restrained manner imaginable. When needs must, we could be as serious as the best of them. Suddenly, a rip-roaring rollocking snort,\u00a0a burst of suppressed laughter, emanated from Olga. Joss and I shot surprised and alarmed glances in her direction. The young man who had taken our passports did the same. Now we were smirking, and he was as well, whilst the rest of his crew were desperately trying to keep straight faces. No one could really have known what they were laughing at. Least of all us; we didn\u2019t have a clue. As if connected by an invisible string we all regained composure at one and the same time. The young military gentleman quickly returned our passports and the line of authority went travelling by, trying to look as if nothing had happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When asked why she had laughed, the only explanation that Olga could give was that we \u2018looked so stupid\u2019. If that was the case, I thought, she should be laughing more times than she wasn’t. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It took a proverbial age for the big old train to up anchor and trump off again in a Kaliningrad direction. As we rolled away from the border checkpoint, there stood one very lonely Russian soldier. He was standing there in his big coat and hat with flaps on. Now he was<\/em> in the middle of somewhere, and it wasn\u2019t very hospitable. He was surrounded by snow; behind him there was nothing but a lot of barbed wire; and as the train went slowly past him ~ clunkety, clunk, clunk, clunk ~ \u00a0my last and lasting impression of the lonely Russian border guard was the sight of his bright red nose glowing refulgently like a Belisha beacon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Copyright \u00a9 2018-2022 Mick Hart. All rights reserved.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Into Russia (27 December 2000) Updated 12 September 2022 | First published 20 October 2019 ~ Into Russia We had left England only three days ago but already the cheap hooch, relatively cheap by British standards, and recourse to a hip flask was taking its toll. A lot of quips and asides about British spies […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_themeisle_gutenberg_block_has_review":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,6],"tags":[24,25,23,26],"class_list":["post-158","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-diary-2000","category-kaliningrad-mick-harts-diary","tag-brits-in-kaliningrad","tag-by-train-to-kaliningrad","tag-russian-border","tag-travel-to-kaliningrad"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":143,"url":"https:\/\/expatkaliningrad.com\/ru\/christmas-in-gdansk\/","url_meta":{"origin":158,"position":0},"title":"Christmas in Gdansk","author":"Captain Codpiece","date":"11 \u0444\u0435\u0432\u0440\u0430\u043b\u044f, 2022","format":false,"excerpt":"Christmas in Gdansk Updated: 11 February 2022 | First published: 5 October 2019 ~ Christmas in Gdansk Christmas in Gdansk\u00a0is the fourth article in a series of posts that recount my first visit to Kaliningrad in 2000, and my first impressions of the land, the people and its culture. 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