Category Archives: Around the World in 60 Days

RTW 9. All aboard the Golden Eagle Trans Siberian Express

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Tuesday, 11 May 2010

Moscow, Russia

Finally, after a number of times trying to enter the Kremlin, I make it. Not Putin’s office obviously. The armoury museum. ‘Kremlin’ means a fortress within a city. Sitting on the bank of the Moskva River it’s a large complex of buildings such as palace, church, museum, armoury, offices, accommodation and of course the Presidential building and senate, all surrounded by a high and thick wall with large fortified gates to prevent intruders. Pretty impressive complex.

Security scanners at the museum entrance are a waste of time as they go off as I wander through but don’t get checked. Got a wonderful Faberge egg if anyone wants one.

Highlight of the museum is the collection of rare Faberge Eggs. Simply stunning. Produced by the House of Faberge, a jewellery firm dating back to the 1840s from St Petersburg, Russia. Made famous by the jewel encrusted eggs they produced for the Tsars way back when.

One is themed around the Trans Siberian Railway and has a small gold train set in it. Stunning and intricate and having seen a few up close now understand why people rave about them.

Once outside the Kremlin and standing in Red Square you realise how diminutive 16th century St Basil’s Cathedral is. Its bold colours adorn its bulbous domes looking like someone has produced an assortment of fruit ripple soft ice cream in a cone. The darkened inside is lightened by the sound of an a capella male voice quartet. Acoustics are brilliant and atmospheric.

Lunch is on the outskirts of the city. Sharing a table with the train’s doctor, her husband and another traveller. All early 60s. We’ll call the doctor’s husband Tom. The other fella, Jerry. Tom is right wing. Jerry is left wing. We’ve only just introduced ourselves when Tom & Jerry get into a discussion on politics. Deary me. A massive argument soon erupts. Jerry takes great exception to be called a ‘Leftie’. As with most lefties, they don’t like people who have different views to their own. Brilliant fun watching two grown men argue like children. It reaches the point where Tom’s despairing wife shouts at him loudly to shut up. They spend the rest of lunch in silence like scolded children.

Arrive late afternoon at Kazan Station. For the start of the Trans Siberian Railway.

Find the platform to board the Golden Eagle Trans Siberian Express (https://www.goldeneagleluxurytrains.com/journeys/trans-siberian-express/eastbound/) home for the next couple of weeks. Most had thought it would be a dedicated engine pulling us all the way. But no. We’re hitched to the back of the standard ‘local’ Trans Siberian train set.

Greeted at our carriage by white gloved provodnitsas in a smart uniform. Am in Silver Class. Ensuite you see. There’s Heritage Class. Toilet at the end of the carriage. No thanks. Also Gold Class but advised that wasn’t value for money.

Enter my cabin. This is more like it. Sofa which converts to a wide bed. Table. Jump seat. TV. AC. Ensuite toilet, shower and basin. Wouldn’t want to swing a cat though. Best of all. A bottle of vodka on the table. We’ll see how long that lasts.

In need of a shower before dinner. Am fully soaped up. When. There’s a power cut on the train. Sod it. The water stops flowing. The lights switch off. Now what. Stand there in the dark. Lathered in soap. Some minutes pass before power returns. Hastily finish just in case it happens again.

Moving through the carriages to the bar car is not the easiest. Like an assault course. Heavy doors have to be opened and shut when crossing between carriages. Then you have to step up to a plate over the coupling which has a three inch gap to the plate of the next carriage. Then step down. Open and close heavy doors. Repeat five times until you arrive at the bar car. Small bar at one end. Lounge seating line the sides. And. A piano. Yes, dear reader. A pianist plays piano each night after dinner. Restaurant car has tables of four. Silver service. Wine flows. Food superb.

Ah yes, this will do very nicely for the next couple of weeks.

All very civilised, dear reader.

Very me.

RTW 8. I donated my husband’s brain

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Monday, 10 May 2010

Moscow, Russia

Despite the hot, stuffy, noisy, bouncy, small, cramped cabin and lumpy bed I must have dropped off at some point as there’s a knock on my door at 0730hrs with LC (our guide) asking if I’d like a cup of tea.

No.

I’d like some sleep.

Like lunch and dinner yesterday, breakfast could be stale bread, dodgy cheese, sweaty salami and warm olives.

Or.

A free plastic wrapped croissant with chocolate filling provided by Rosa Klebb the provodnitsa. Yum. Not.

Provodnitsa provides perfect plastic cup of steaming hot black tea from the samovar. With a small plastic carton that I naturally assume is milk so pour it in. To discover it’s not. It’s lemon juice. In dire need of a brew I drink it. Twinings English Breakfast Tea, milk and one sugar it is not.

Being a large cube shape, Rosa Klebb the provodnitsa is too wide for the corridor and nearly drags the curtains off their rails as she stomps down the corridor. Creating a vacuum in her wake. Thanks for the memory LC!

Arrive Moscow Belarusky station pretty much on time. After last night’s zero star accommodation it’s pleasing to check in to the Marriott Aurora Hotel (https://www.marriott.com/hotels/travel/mowdt-moscow-marriott-royal-aurora-hotel/) at the back of the Bolshoi Theatre. Ah yes. The Lesser Spotted Taurean back in his natural habitat. Having not washed for over 36hrs and slept in my clothes on the train a much needed shower is required.

So.

Back in the USSR.

First came to Moscow in 2004 and loved it. One of my favourite cities. Feels very safe. Despite what you may think.

My favourite place in Moscow though is VDNKh. The Exhibition of Achievements of National Economy. Built in the 1930s under Stalin, it’s a large parkland with architecturally stunning pavilions along a wide boulevard. Good, solid and muscular architecture. Love this style of architecture.

My memory from 2004 was the smell of the street food stalls lining the central boulevard. Made you want to try everything. Walking along again now I smell the street barbeques and the memory kicks in. Wonderful smell. Exactly as I remember it. Lots of various meats and salmon being grilled.

Actually a public holiday to celebrate VE Day. Party atmosphere. Plenty of people promenading and picnicking.

The elevated 5km long Moscow monorail goes around the perimeter of VDNKh and out into the suburbs. Has to be travelled. More to add to the different modes of transport taken. No other reason to go out to Soviet suburbs seeing slum apartment blocks. Grim. Communist era.

Like Pyongyang in North Korea, Moscow’s underground stations are cavernous ornate affairs. Unlike Pyongyang, the entrance gates to the underground don’t slice you in half. Ouch.

Surface at Red Square. The remnants of the VE Day parade are being cleared away. As a kid in the 1970s and 80s, always remember seeing the big military parades through Red Square on the TV. A massive expanse of cobbles bordered on one side by the Kremlin with the GUM department store opposite, with its three long glazed arcades joined together. St Basil’s cathedral stands at the far end near the river.

The dozen of us that have travelled by train from the UK to Moscow meet up with those that have flown in tonight.

For the welcome dinner.

You know how it is. All the small talk. And introductions. Getting to know each other.

There’s always a dreary grey one. Little Miss Sociable. Light and cheery she is not.

Having dinner. Dreary announces that she donated her husband’s brain to the local university for research.

Jolly good.

Glad you told me that as I’m eating. Thanks for sharing.

RTW 7. New bogies

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Sunday, 9 May 2010

Minsk, Belarus

Warsaw Wschodnia station is grim. Very grim. Very communist era. It’s the departure station for the overnight express to Moscow. For ‘express’ read ‘trundle’.

Cabin is small. Thankful it’s just me as I only just fit in. A small wash hand basin is hidden under a table in the corner of the cabin. The toilet is down the corridor. It’s disgusting. I shall be holding it in.

Depart 1300hrs. Moscow here we come.

Time to settle in. There’s not going to be a whole lot to do for 20hrs. Crack open my provisions bought at Carrefour yesterday evening.

Lunch is stale bread. Warm cheese. Sweaty salami. Olives. Peanuts (not exactly jungle fresh).

Watch the scenery go by.

Trees.

Trees.

More trees.

Thankful we’re in First Class. Economy is grotty. Six to a cabin on bunkbeds.

One of our number is a real train buff who gives talks about rail signalling to the Royal Trainspotters Society. Or some such thing. I’ll gradually introduce you to the cast of characters in the rest of the group, dear reader. We’ll call him Signal John. Rail signalling is his thing. What he doesn’t know about rail signalling.

Eventually arrive at the Polish/Belarus border. Customs and immigration officials jump on board. Not to be messed with. All are armed and we’ve also got armed guards on the platform. Instructed to sit down in my cabin by border guard. Duly comply. Passport checked. Depart Poland and cross into Belarus about five miles up the line.

Barbed wire is the new Iron Curtain. Armed guard in a sentry box overlooking the river forming the border. Pass under a large sign which denotes entry to Belarus and the train immediately stops in the middle of nowhere. Belarus Gestapo get on. Not to be messed with either. Even more authoritative than the Polish. Cabins checked. Passports taken away for processing whilst we fill in an immigration card. A female customs official walks down the corridor demanding to see each cabin. Bleach blonde hair, black leather jacket and stilettos. Rocking that communist look. She shouts at me and points at my rucksack. “I’m English”, I say. And with a scornful sneer moves on. Taurean charm you see.

Passports and visas stamped, train trundles into Brest station a couple of minutes away and pulls up at the platform. Load of local women suddenly appear at the windows flogging food and drink. We’ll get used to this as the weeks progress.

Then they board the train and go from cabin to cabin. Beer and chicken seems to be the day’s speciality. Although there seems to be something else on offer when one of the women quietly enters the cabin of a lone male traveller further up the carriage and the curtains are quickly shut. I’ll leave you to work that one out, dear reader.

Now that we’re in the former Soviet Union the train’s bogies need to be changed from the 4ft 8½ inch European gauge to the 5ft Russian gauge. Fascinating watching the process which I was allowed to video. See video below.

The train set with nine carriages enters a large sidings shed with overhead gantry cranes. Carriages uncoupled from each other and the bogies disconnected from the carriage before the entire carriage is jacked up about 6ft on massive screw jacks. Mechanics swarm all over the bogies disconnecting hoses and couplings. The disconnected European bogies are then rolled out and replaced with Russian gauge bogies and the whole process is reversed. Takes about an hour.

With the Russian bogies fixed the train returns to Brest railway station, a nice building with a Communist feel, where it waits the forty minutes until its scheduled departure time.

Clocks have moved forward one hour and will move forward another hour as we enter Russia in the early hours of tomorrow morning.

So what to do for another 14hrs. In my cabin. Well. There’s dinner to look forward to.

Like lunch, dinner is stale bread. Warm cheese. Sweaty salami. Olives. Peanuts (not exactly jungle fresh).

Unlike lunch there’s a bottle of Jacobs Creek Shiraz Cabernet to moisten the mouth. Why on earth they don’t have screw tops in this neck of the woods I don’t know. Use the free corkscrew which came with the bottle. A corkscrew which will be much used over the next two months, dear reader.

Pacing myself with the red wine as I’m not intending drinking a whole bottle tonight.

But.

As the cork snapped in half when opening.

You know where this is going.

Hic.

Roasting hot in the cabin and nothing I can do to turn the heat off. Having the window open is too noisy. With the occasional whiff of diesel fumes.

Arrive Minsk 0100hrs. Damp, foggy and quite cold. Enjoy the cold fresh air whilst we wait in Minsk. Security guards with their large peaked caps patrol the platform. Other side of the train are troops waiting for a train to some unknown destination.

I next came to Minsk on my Cape to Cape trip three years later. You can read about my few days in Minsk which starts here: https://touringtaurean.com/2018/07/24/disinfection-is-made/

Struggle for sleep in the hot, noisy, bouncy cabin.

Having enjoyed the wine, need a pee in the middle of the night.

Do I…

A) walk down the corridor to a grotty toilet…

or…

B) use the small washhand basin in the corner of the cabin…

Decisions. Decisions.

RTW 6. You can spot a Brit a mile off!

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Saturday, 8 May 2010

Warsaw, Poland

Having travelled independently thus far am to meet up with the rest of the Trans Siberian group. One set are also travelling to Moscow by train from London which I could’ve done but wanted to stop off to see Miss Braunschweig. Other set are flying into Moscow.

Wait in hotel lobby for British guide to arrive mid morning to meet up with the group travelling by train from London. They having travelled overnight by train from Germany.

Jolly young looking woman appears and says, “Are you Mr Taurean?”

“Yes”

“You can spot a Brit a mile off!”, she retorts. We’ll call her LC. Our escort and guide to Vladivostok.

Meet up with the eleven travellers that have also travelled by train from London. Safe to say I’m the youngest by some margin.

Orientation tour of Warsaw begins with the Royal Baths Park (Lazienki Park), the largest in Warsaw. Typical European park with assorted 17th and 18th century buildings and palaces. Hearing a concert by the lake discover a load of disabled kids in wheelchairs watching a disabled pop singer in a wheelchair on a stage on an island in the lake with TV cameras, lights and sound rig, belting out a rock ballad. Nearly become disabled myself when I slip and very nearly break a leg.

Last came to Warsaw in 1997 driving back from Istanbul. My recollection was that it was a nice place and felt safe. Still is today. Seems to be a younger generation milling about. Must be some festival as there’s a large group salsa dancing outside the Town Hall. Fantastic atmosphere on this warm sunny blue sky day.

The other good thing about Warsaw are the granite street benches. You push a button on them which then plays a few minutes of Chopin. Warsaw’s famous composer. Great idea but can’t see it working in the UK. Soon get vandalised.

Passing the Palace of Culture, Poland’s tallest building, see what appear to be people on a viewing terrace at the top. I’ll have a bit of that. Go to the nearest entrance. But directed to another entrance the other side of this large building. To find a ticket kiosk. But. She directs me to the other side from whence I came. Playing ping pong with Touring Taurean aren’t they. Find yet another entrance and directed to another side of the building. Have now practically walked the perimeter of the building in the search of the sodding entrance. Building reminds me of the Seven Sisters buildings in Moscow. Entrance finally found it’s a lift that whizzes up to the 33rd floor observation deck in 20 seconds at 6m/s. Poland’s fastest lift. Female lift attendant with a dodgy hairstyle and colouring sits on a little stool spending the whole day pushing buttons 1 and 33.

Amazing views from the top and like Koln Cathedral a reminder of how flat the landscape is.

We’re to depart on the 20hr overnight train to Moscow tomorrow so need some provisions. Carrefour is the nearest to hotel. The alcohol section is gated off and you have to purchase wines and spirits from a separate cashier. Stock up on bread, cheese, salami, nuts, olives and other snacks for tomorrow’s journey. Enter the gated alcohol section. Decide on a Jacobs Creek Shiraz Cabernet on account of the free travel corkscrew that comes with it. And a bottle of Jamesons. On account of the screwcap. Single malt is preferred, dear reader, but this invariably comes with a cork top. Touring Taurean’s Top Travel Tip: don’t travel with a cork top Single Malt whisky…there’s a risk it’ll come off in your bag. Lessons have been learnt, dear reader.

Long slow queue for the alcohol check out. Everyone is getting fractious especially when the cashier disappears for 10 minutes. Having paid for the alcohol at the dedicated alcohol check-out now have to queue at another till to pay for groceries. This is faff central. Put the wine and whisky on the conveyor simply so I can put it all in one bag. She scans the wine and then asks for the till receipt for the whisky which I show her. The grocery bill comes and I can see that she’s charged me for the already paid for wine. Pointing this out it’s made out that the wine has been cancelled. Don’t believe it but pay up and have to move to a side table to sort out the paper bag full of groceries and check the bill. Patently obvious she’s charged me for the wine. Pick the heavy paper bag up to go back to till but the entire top handle section rips apart from the main bag spilling contents everywhere.

Bugger.

Grumpy now.

The toss is argued in fluent, well spoken English. She in Polish. It’s going well, dear reader. You don’t need to understand any language as to what is being said. You can guess.

I’m right. She’s wrong. Takes some time, dear reader, for her to realise she’s wrong.

But we get there.

Now have to go to her supervisor. No one speaks English in the shop. That’s not a barrier though. Soon fully reimbursed the bottle of wine. And provided with two new plastic bags.

RTW 5. No overall majority

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Friday, 7 May 2010

Warsaw, Poland

0300hrs by the time I got to bed last night. General Election in the UK yesterday. Stayed up to watch the results come in. Old friend emailing until the early hours over the results. David Cameron’s Conservatives need a national swing of 7% to win. Awake to discover it’s the Conservatives with no overall majority. A hung parliament. And so the bunfight begins.

So somewhat shattered as I board the train to Warsaw. A 6hr journey. Don’t worry, dear reader, am travelling First Class. Thinking it would be the same superb standard as the German ICE train.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

It’s a six seat compartment like in the old fashioned trains. You know. The ones you see in the old films. Three of us in this compartment as we depart Berlin Hauptbahnhof. A young Polish girl student studying English language textbooks on magnetics and geophysics. A middle aged Polish bloke. He sits in the middle seat one side. Whilst we sit either end on the other side. I with the window seat. Moderately comfortable as we can each stretch our legs out to the vacant seat opposite us. It works. It won’t last though.

Travel through a lot of forest which becomes quite hypnotic seeing green trees pass by for hours. Frankfurt an der Oder is the German/Polish border town but the train only stops at Rzepin, about 15 minutes further on the Polish side for border checks and to change engines.

Border guards with guns jump on inspecting all the undesirables. We three in our compartment are bypassed and ignored. Asians in adjacent compartment given a grilling.

Arriving at Poznan it’s clear the train is going to be full judging by the volume of people waiting on the platform. Having enjoyed reasonable comfort the compartment now becomes full. And cramped. Polish businessman with laptop asks to plug his computer into the socket by the window. Now have a power cable trailing over my head rest. Mother and son enter with bags galore along with a rather rotund woman with dodgy haircut and fashion. Your stereotypical East European.

Pass the time by reading my Lonely Planet Trans-Siberian guide book. Prompts the woman to ask if that’s where I’m going. Yes and explain that I’m actually travelling by train around the world. Which starts the whole compartment asking questions for the next twenty minutes.

Disembark Warsaw Central station only 10 minutes late. Its dark underground station reminds me of the horror of Birmingham New Street so quickly find my way to daylight and the Radisson Hotel (https://www.radissonhotels.com/en-us/hotels/radisson-collection-warsaw-centrum). After a 6hr rail journey a kilometre’s walk seemed like a good idea. With a 22kg rucksack it’s not.

Despite being an experienced traveller quickly realise Poland is not in the Eurozone and so all those euros I have on me are of no use. Zloty required.

It’s been a long day, dear reader. Looking forward to a nice long sleep.

2300hrs when the racket starts. Jack hammers and heavy machinery being used to prepare the road three floors below my hotel room for tarmacking through the night.

Right.

Not having that.

Grumpy ogre presents himself at reception.

Grumpy ogre gets an upgrade to a Business Class room.

Grumpy ogre not so grumpy.

RTW 4. Kiss and drop

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Thursday, 6 May 2010

Berlin, Germany

Woken at the crack of dawn by a strange presence in my room. A 5 year old girl. Who greets me in a very posh English accent, “Good morning, Taurean”. Before jumping on me. This is way too early to be playing.

Quick waltz around Braunschweig visiting old haunts before popping in to my old office to see former colleagues. Now running late for the ICE train to Berlin so race back to the car for a quick zoom across town to the station and quickly deposited at the aptly named ‘Kiss and drop’ layby. What a great name for a drop-off point.

Every station should have a ‘kiss and drop’ point.

Now have two minutes to sprint across the concourse and find the platform. Not easy with a 22kg rucksack. Not for the first time have I had to sprint across this concourse. Although, admittedly it was usually 0559hrs and 30 seconds for the 0600hrs train to Frankfurt. German trains are never late. But. Not today. Train is delayed 15 minutes. Not the German efficiency I know and love.

Torrential rain and freezing cold in Berlin. So not much sightseeing I’m afraid, dear reader.

Check in to the Swissotel (https://www.swissotel.com/hotels/berlin/accommodation/swiss-advantage-room/). Located on Kurfurstendam. Berlin’s Oxford Street.

And close to the Times Bar. An art deco cigar bar.

My guilty travel secret. A Cohiba Siglo VI Cuban cigar.

A fine Cuban cigar.

A Rusty Nail.

A good book.

Solitude.

Life is good.

RTW 3. A mother’s memory

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Wednesday, 5 May 2010

Braunschweig, Germany

Early departure to Koln on the Thalys train passing through Aachen. Have sentimental attachments to Koln and Aachen. Koln was the first place I worked as I moved to Germany in 1997. Aachen was where the research centre project I worked on was being built. Was only meant to be in Germany for a year. Loved it so much spent three years there. Forget France and Spain, dear reader. Give Germany a go for your next holiday. You’ll be surprised how much you enjoy it. And how friendly the people are. And most speak English.

Family history has also been traced and there’s a school of thought that a distant relation possibly came from Koln. So could be part German.

It would explain everything.

Koln’s domineering Gothic Cathedral is always magnificent and one of my favourite cathedrals. Very imposing and it’s a 533 step climb to the top of the tower. Quite frankly, I’m not getting any younger, dear reader, and may have had to stop for a breather. Once or twice. Stunning views with a flat as a pancake landscape reminds you you’re on the great North European Plain. Won’t see hills now until the Urals.

Back on the German ICE (Inter City Express) train to Braunschweig. The ICE trains are superb. The best in Europe. And ultra modern. Unlike the Wuppertal Schwebebahn we pass as we zoom by the city of Wuppertal. An 1898 monorail where the ‘train’ suspends from the rail. See video below. Used to travel Braunschweig-Koln and back by ICE each week for project meetings and always wanted to stop off in Wuppertal to travel on its monorail. But never did. Built over the river it follows its path for 13km.

Greeted at Braunschweig station by Miss Braunschweig. Lived in Braunschweig for three years between 1997 and 2000. We’ve been firm friends ever since. We’re practically twins. Born 25hrs apart. Dinner takes an interesting turn when she proclaims, “I’m in ze mood for telling you things!” Crikey. Well, dear reader, I find out stuff I never knew. But that’s for diary, dear reader. Not blog.

Being near the old West German/East German border at Helmstedt, Braunschweig was the first town the East Germans came to when the wall came down. Miss Braunschweig remembers the day they came. The whole town was full of Trabants polluting the city with their exhaust fumes belching out. The West German government were handing out 100 Deutsche Mark notes and bananas. Miss Braunschweig celebrated New Year’s Eve that year actually on the Berlin Wall near the Brandenburg Gate. So many people were celebrating and she recounts that when she jumped down to the east side of the wall she suddenly had this fear that the border would be locked again and she’d be captured in the east.

Meet her Mum when we get back who just happens to be watching a film called ‘Dresden’. Which gets us into conversation about World War 2 and her memories of the time.

Mum was born in 1936 and so a small girl during the war. She vividly remembers the night that 90% of Braunschweig was bombed by the British RAF. It was terrible. The horrific noise of the air raid sirens. The bombs screaming down. The night sky ablaze with fire. They lived in a village on the outskirts so, thankfully, weren’t in the direct line of bombardment but still had to hide in the air raid shelter. Mum’s father owned a factory making hats, shirts and coats and as such had to become a member of the Nazi Party. No choice in the matter. At the end of the war they were living in a large house in the best residential area of Braunschweig. One day the American Army knocked on the door at 1000hrs and told them to vacate their home by 1800hrs that day so the Americans could use the large house for their own purposes. The family had to comply. Fortunately the Americans came knocking and not the Russians. Mum’s father had said that if the Russians got close he would kill all his family rather than let the Russians loose on them as the Russians had a reputation for rape, torture and murder.

Mum’s father always carried cyanide on him just in case it came to that.

Just think about that for a moment, dear reader.

The family vacated the family home that day with most of their possessions and found somewhere else to live.

They’d had eight hours.

However, Mum had forgotten one of her dolls so went back to the house, on her own, the next day to see if she could get it. An American soldier saw her outside the house and she explained what had happened. American soldier lifted her over the barbed wire fence so she could go inside the house to retrieve her doll.

A few months later the British were in town (Bergen-Belsen concentration camp not being too far away) and one British soldier had some chocolate to hand out to the local children. Something they never had through the war, along with bananas. Mum looked at the soldier all sorrowful and head bowed. So he gave her extra chocolate.

Mum is giggling as she recalls this particular memory.

Lest we forget.

RTW 2. The Man In Seat 61

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Tuesday, 4 May 2010

Brussels, Belgium

0500hrs alarm call. There’s only one 5 o’clock in my day. This isn’t it. Television bursts into life as the alarm. Scares the life out of me. Think I’ve got intruders in my room. Was expecting a phone call.

Grumpy little ogre.

No sleep you see.

Heave 22kg rucksack onto my back. Short walk down Euston Road to St Pancras for Eurostar to Brussells Gare du Midi.

Reserved seat 61 in recognition of The Man in Seat Sixty-One. Probably the best website dedicated to rail travel around the world. Check it out www.seat61.com. Invaluable in planning this journey.

Arrive Gare du Midi in Brussells. Had the unfortunate pleasure of doing this route just over a week ago. Working in Frankfurt, Germany, when the European airspace was closed due to volcanic ash in the atmosphere caused by a volcano erupting in Iceland. Colleague and I were stuck so took the train from Frankfurt via Koln, Brussels and London to Nottingham to get back home for the weekend.

Make my way to Heysel. Scene of ugly football hooliganism in 1985 when Juventus played Liverpool in the European Cup final. Not here for football though. It’s the location of Atomium (www.atomium.be). A scaled up version of the atoms in a ferrite crystal. Scaled up 165 billion times that is. At over 100m high it was built in 1958 for the Expo. Escalators take you up the structure in the tubes between the ‘atoms’ and each ‘atom’ has an exhibition on different aspects.

Back at ground level catch the first tram that comes along. Can’t find anywhere to buy a ticket. Jump on anyway. Will do my little lost foreign tourist act if ticket inspector pops up. No idea where we’re going. Am on a magical mystery tour. Spontaneity is the order of the day. End up in some dodgy suburb. You think Britain has immigration problems. Bloody hell. You should come to Brussells. It’s startling. The Lesser Spotted Taurean beats a hasty retreat.

Eventually find my way to more salubrious surroundings and find an open top Hop on/Hop off Red Bus. Seems like a good idea. There’s a red bus at the roadside. Waiting. Pay the EUR20 but then told I’ve got to walk 10 mins to the start and wait for a red bus. WHAT?!? What’s wrong with this bus? It’s always the same isn’t it. They lull you into thinking that it’s the bus where they take the money off you. Got wise to that over the years, dear reader.

Sadly, the lack of sleep last night takes its toll.

Nod off on the bus.

In so doing camera drops off my lap.

And smashes on the bus floor.

It’s only day two.

The sole reason for checking in to the Euro Capital Hotel (http://euro-capital.hotelsbrussels.net/en/) is that it’s across the road from the Gare du Midi station and suitable for an early start tomorrow.

Five star it is not.

RTW 1. You look trendy types

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AROUND THE WORLD IN 60 DAYS BLOG – TENTH ANNIVERSARY

Well, dear reader, coronavirus lockdown continues so going to bore you with my Around the World in 60 Days trip I did in May and June 2010. This being the blog for the tenth anniversary. Travelled by train from Nottingham, across Europe to Moscow then the Trans Siberian Railway to Vladivostok before flying to South Korea and travelling by train down to the southern tip, ferry to Japan, train across Japan then fly to Vancouver and train all the way across Canada to Halifax before heading to St John’s and flying back to the UK.

The idea for this trip formed whilst waiting in the Business Class lounge at Manchester Airport back in January 2010 to board a flight to Doha, Qatar, for a business trip. Wanted something memorable to do for my 40th in April 2010. Originally was only going to do the Trans Siberian Express but when looking at the map realised I may as well continue eastwards to Canada. What started out as a two week trip trundling the tracks of the Trans Siberian turned into 60 days around the world. At the time this was the longest trip I’d ever done. Though as you’ve since read, it lay the foundations for more ambitious journeys.

So here goes. Fasten your seatbelts. Settle down, have a brew and enjoy armchair travelling with me around the world.

Monday, 3 May 2010

London, UK

Cold, wet and miserable when dropped off at the bus stop. Say fond farewells to family. Eldest niece bursts into tears. At least someone’s going to miss me.

Bus to Nottingham is full of the dregs of society. Train to London is full of the dregs of society. I’m in the minority. Young lad with baseball hat and baggy jeans (you know the sort) plonks himself down next to me and asks if I’m going to move my newspapers on the table in that ‘move them or I’ll stab you’ sort of way. Duly oblige.

Arranged to meet Girl 1 for afternoon tea in London. Was meant to be having dinner but this was downgraded to afternoon tea when Girl 2 rang to say she’d be in London tonight. Had to do a bit of delicate juggling. Can do delicate juggling when needs must. Didn’t go down too well with Girl 1. An opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, dear reader. Girl 1 suspects Girl 2 is the reason for downgrade. What a tangled web we weave. Hope they’re not reading this.

All around the world trips must start at the Reform Club. As Phileas Fogg and Michael Palin demonstrated. Head to Pall Mall to discover the door shut. It being a Bank Holiday. Make do with obligatory photos outside the door. Has to be done.

Farewell Girl 1. Hello Girl 2. Excellent dinner overlooking the city skyline. You know when you’re so engrossed in each other’s conversation you don’t realise where the time has gone? Well, dear reader, discover we’ve been talking and laughing so much that the restaurant has now shut and we’re the only people left. Along with the cleaner.

Taxi to another bar for nightcaps. Ask driver for recommendations. “You look trendy types”, says he. Which amuses. I’m about as trendy as a pair of 1970s brown flared trousers.

Eventually climb into bed at 0130hrs.

Have to be up in three and a half hours.

Someone’s going to be a grumpy little ogre in the morning.