Remember you're a Womble

As well (possibly most famously) being one of these, Tomsk is also a quietly splendid Siberian university town, and proved to be a rather splendid place to while away a few days as we snaked our way across Russia on our great Trans-Mongolian train adventure. After the European feel of St. Petersburg, and the madness that was Moscow, Tomsk gave us a great chance to relax a little, while also providing a peek at what Russian life is like in a town away from main tourist-train drag.

Possibly the most memorable moment of our entire stay in Tomsk occurred a few hours after we arrived. We were sat in the living room of the flat we'd rented in a Soviet-style apartment block, taking in the full weirdness of what would be our home for the next week, when Nadia (whose flat it was) burst in from an adjoining room and loudly asked me, apropos of nothing, "Hey! Do you like sex?" I was - most unusually - utterly lost for words, as was Louise who simply stared at me dumbfounded. There had been no mention of this on the website. We were saved from what might well have been the most bizarre menage a trois ever when Nadia asked me again, this time with helpful hand signals, if I liked "sax... you know, Kenny G?" In ordinary circumstances, I like the curly-permed king of cod jazz as much as rampant toothache, but at the moment in time, I was his biggest fan, and never more delighted to hear his flaccid riffs.

While we never quite reached these dizzying heights of excitement for the rest of week there, we had a fab time nonetheless. The architecture really was amazing, the people welcoming and warm, the parks and public gardens a wonderful place to stroll, chat and soak up Russia, and their obligatory Lenin statue was a real corker. We spent whole days just meandering through the backstreets of wooden houses, across rivers and up wooden viewing towers, all the while feeling very, very Russian. It was in Tomsk that we started living on our ten quid a day budget, finding ever moire creative meals to cook with tomatoes, Russian bread, eggs and noodles. We also grew very fond of some Russian biscuits, until we (thought we) realised that they were made with liver, but that's another story.

And all too soon, our week in Tomsk (which we thought might have been too long a stop to begin with) was nearly over. We celebrated by going out for a slap-up meal, complete with dirt cheap Russian Champagne (that really is what it said on the label). Lou looked gorgeous, and the night was made perfect when the piss-poor 'artiste' who had been singing to us in Russian all night delivered a truly hilarious version of "I Just Called to Say I Love You" in English. As we walked home, snow began to fall around us in a picture-postcard fashion, dusting the benches and lampposts in a way that you normally only see in movies.

And that was it. The next morning, the lovely Nadia walked us - again in the snow - back to the bus station, telling us along the way of her fascinating life as a lecturer and economic adviser to Russia's national bank, before hugging us goodbye. Another great stop in Russia, another fantastic Russian host. We had, against the odds, started to feel at home in this vast place.

Stay Warm,

Luke and Louise

(Posted by Luke)

Across the Great Divide

One of our best mates from home, Sue Macmillan, is Queen of the Interweb for the lovely Labour Party. She commented in a recent email - in a way that only Sue could - that posts on this blog could, just maybe, be a little long. I'm sure that you will be as shocked as I was at the very suggestion that I could ever be long winded, talk too much, or use one five words when one would do. However, after some thought, I reckon she might have a point. So here goes - leaner, meaner and... er... shorter.

After the crazy, sometimes scary, but never boring fun and games in Moscow, we headed on the first leg of our Trans Mongolian trip from the capital to Novosibirsk, our jumping off point for Tomsk. We shared our four-berth sleeper with a lovely Russian man and woman (work friends, they were keen to stress, not partners, though Lou and I agreed they were clearly soft on each other), who were kind to us in every way. The journey itself was everything I had hoped it would be, and then some. The bunks - me on top, Lou below - were comfortable, and the carriages warm and cosy. The fabled 'samovar' kept us all in coffee, noodles and instant mashed potato, while the hawkers that roamed every platform stop sold everythingfrom smoked fish to giant cuddly toys. We played the occasional game of cards and chess, and read from time to time, but the gentle rock of the train really does lull you into a gentle peace somewhere in between sleep and waking, as Siberian forests roll by, morphing into farmland then back again. Wonderful.

When we arrived in Novosibirsk, the stop from which we were to travel on to Tomsk, we had no accommodation booked and it was 1.30am. Our very sweet Russian friend got dressed and led us from the train to the station hotel (another example of unexpected kindness), but as he walked away back to the train, it became apparent that we would not be spending the night there, as all the rooms were full. So, overcome with strange bravery - and desire not to look like a big wimp in front of Lou - we cwtched together in the grand Soviet waiting room, next to a group of Mongolian Labourers and a man who had taken off both his false legs to sleep. Really.

Five hours later, we found our way to a rickety minibus and set of on a very bumpy three hour ride to Tomsk, the fantastic, relaxed and very beautiful University town where we would spend the next six days, in a very weird and very Soviet apartment. More of which next time, which could be a while, as we set off for Irkutsk - and Lake Baikal - at 10.30pm tomorrow, and I have no idea when I'll be able to blog next. Which should please Sue no end...

Stay warm,

Luke and Louise

(Posted by Luke)