Bonding on the Trans-Siberian Railway
Trees whiz by with shoddy wooden houses occasionally interspersed, the railway car is becoming increasingly tepid and I’m keenly aware it’s been four days since our last shower. We’ve travelled 4,000 kilometres east from Moscow and are still two days from our first stop at Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, aboard the fabled Trans-Siberian Railway.
As children grow up and move out of the family nest, a distance, more than physical, often develops. Extended periods together and the opportunity to really converse and connect become rare. This turned out to be the most important aspect of embarking on an 11,000-kilometre train journey with my father.
Traversing seven time zones, the Trans-Siberian Railway is the world’s longest, running from Russia’s capital Moscow to Vladivostok on the country’s east coast. Turns out it was on my father’s Bucket List, my mom had no interest and in late 2011 he asked if I’d join him. I realized we’re all getting older and while it wasn’t necessarily my dream holiday, I wanted to be part of his.
We opted for the most popular route with travellers, coupling the Trans-Siberian and Trans-Mongolian, which forks south from Siberia into Mongolia and on to the Chinese capital, Beijing. This comes in at a whopping 8,861 kilometres and takes seven days. Our plan was to spend a few days in Moscow, push straight to Mongolia, enjoy a week there, then on to Beijing, where we’d decompress for a couple nights before catching a bullet train to Shenzhen and finally cross in to Hong Kong.
All up, it was to be a three-week expedition.
Arrival: Aug. 23, 2013, my 40th birthday, dad turned 70 a few weeks prior, and the meeting point was a massive Soviet-era hotel in Moscow’s north end. He had a cold beer waiting as I entered our room and the journey had officially begun. He’d also made T-shirts for the trip emblazed with “Don & Scott’s Big Adventure.” Shirts on, we headed out to explore this capital of 15 million that’s served as the backdrop for countless spy novels.
Conscious of my tendency to be a bit bossy at times, I let my dad take the lead. He indicated areas of interest and appointed me navigator, which held for the duration of the trip and we amazingly avoided any tension while sightseeing.
Moscow exudes modern, vibrant vibes, yet there’s still a good deal of Cold War overtones and communist symbols around many corners. Traditional sites like St. Basil’s Cathedral, with its colourful soft-serve-ice-cream-shaped-tops, Red Square’s imposing size and the Kremlin’s stately towers impressed. Next door, GUM, the city’s original shopping arcade, now features international brands Lenin never would have imagined in his capital. Our four days were fun, but overshadowed by the real purpose of being here — the Trans-Siberian Railway.
Darkness had just overtaken day, we boarded the train, and found our compact, yet comfy private cabin, fitted with two bunk beds and a small table. Unpacking bags, finding spots to stick personal items, and slipping sheets on our narrow beds in a tight space was a bit like playing virtual Tetris, but 30 minutes later we’d settled in smoothly, with surprisingly no collisions or arguments. This was home for the next 107 hours.
The reality of a long train journey for holiday is the polar opposite of almost any other. It’s an exercise in passive exploration, appreciating vast amounts of time to soak it all in versus being outside sightseeing. Games of cards and reading books filled time, but talking became our main form of entertainment as we passed through Siberia’s monotonous Taiga (thick forest).
I married in 2012, and found it revealing to discover from my dad what it’s like being coupled for nearly 50 years. I now saw my parents as two regular people rather than mom and dad, and we were two buddies shooting the breeze rather than father and son. Moments like this unfolded throughout the trip, taking us to conversational regions we’d never explored before.
Rolling in to Mongolia’s capital as the sun crested its surrounding mountains, rich blues and reds coloured the morning sky and round ger tents were abundant. Their density increased then swiftly gave way to modern concrete edifices and the odd high-rise. Ulaanbaatar ‘s (UB) downtown core is surprisingly contemporary and lively. Modern business suits mix with traditional dress in a city that seems to be coming to grips with its place in the modern world.
Extensive grasslands, or steppe as it’s known, are striking and begin just outside UB’s expanse. A couple days were spent wandering wide-open spaces, sleeping in gers and riding horses, all integral to the Mongolian experience. We left with a profound appreciation for these enduring people whom eke out an existence in a very harsh land.
Aboard a surprisingly modern Mongolian train we rolled out of UB for the two-day trip to Beijing with a sense of anticipation that the Trans-Siberian/Mongolian portion of our journey was nearing completion. Grasslands gave way to scrub, then sand, and finally camels, as we glided along the Gobi Desert’s extreme eastern edges and night overtook day.
Beijing was a bit of an afterthought, as we’d both been before. That said, The Forbidden City, Summer Palace, Tiananmen Square and Great Wall are all sites first-time visitors should experience. We opted to stroll the hutong (traditional courtyard community) we were staying in and visited the very eclectic 798 District. Formerly a munitions manufacturing quarter, it’s been transformed into a highly creative area, home to art galleries and inventive boutiques.
08:00: Beijing to Shenzhen: at 2,372 kilometres, it’s the world’s longest high-speed railway and takes just over 10 hours, a stark contrast to the sluggish Trans-Siberian now far behind. Upon arrival we jumped Shenzhen’s subway system to the border with Hong Kong and crossed by foot.
Navigating Hong Kong’s subway system to our final hotel, emerging to the city’s syncopated lights and towering skyscrapers was reminiscent of scenes from Blade Runner. Hong Kong dazzles, with its ultra-modern colliding against the highly traditional and is one of the planet’s must-experience cities.
A couple days later we were standing at Hong Kong Airport’s departures area, facing a moment I’d been dreading: Saying “Goodbye”. For the first time in three weeks we were short on words. We’d laughed, gotten along famously and learned a lot about one another.
If it takes being cooped-up in a small train cabin for 11,000 kilometres to connect like this, I’m up for riding the rails anytime.
As children grow up and move out of the family nest, a distance, more than physical, often develops. Extended periods together and the opportunity to really converse and connect become rare. This turned out to be the most important aspect of embarking on an 11,000-kilometre train journey with my father.
Traversing seven time zones, the Trans-Siberian Railway is the world’s longest, running from Russia’s capital Moscow to Vladivostok on the country’s east coast. Turns out it was on my father’s Bucket List, my mom had no interest and in late 2011 he asked if I’d join him. I realized we’re all getting older and while it wasn’t necessarily my dream holiday, I wanted to be part of his.
We opted for the most popular route with travellers, coupling the Trans-Siberian and Trans-Mongolian, which forks south from Siberia into Mongolia and on to the Chinese capital, Beijing. This comes in at a whopping 8,861 kilometres and takes seven days. Our plan was to spend a few days in Moscow, push straight to Mongolia, enjoy a week there, then on to Beijing, where we’d decompress for a couple nights before catching a bullet train to Shenzhen and finally cross in to Hong Kong.
All up, it was to be a three-week expedition.
Arrival: Aug. 23, 2013, my 40th birthday, dad turned 70 a few weeks prior, and the meeting point was a massive Soviet-era hotel in Moscow’s north end. He had a cold beer waiting as I entered our room and the journey had officially begun. He’d also made T-shirts for the trip emblazed with “Don & Scott’s Big Adventure.” Shirts on, we headed out to explore this capital of 15 million that’s served as the backdrop for countless spy novels.
Conscious of my tendency to be a bit bossy at times, I let my dad take the lead. He indicated areas of interest and appointed me navigator, which held for the duration of the trip and we amazingly avoided any tension while sightseeing.
Moscow exudes modern, vibrant vibes, yet there’s still a good deal of Cold War overtones and communist symbols around many corners. Traditional sites like St. Basil’s Cathedral, with its colourful soft-serve-ice-cream-shaped-tops, Red Square’s imposing size and the Kremlin’s stately towers impressed. Next door, GUM, the city’s original shopping arcade, now features international brands Lenin never would have imagined in his capital. Our four days were fun, but overshadowed by the real purpose of being here — the Trans-Siberian Railway.
Darkness had just overtaken day, we boarded the train, and found our compact, yet comfy private cabin, fitted with two bunk beds and a small table. Unpacking bags, finding spots to stick personal items, and slipping sheets on our narrow beds in a tight space was a bit like playing virtual Tetris, but 30 minutes later we’d settled in smoothly, with surprisingly no collisions or arguments. This was home for the next 107 hours.
The reality of a long train journey for holiday is the polar opposite of almost any other. It’s an exercise in passive exploration, appreciating vast amounts of time to soak it all in versus being outside sightseeing. Games of cards and reading books filled time, but talking became our main form of entertainment as we passed through Siberia’s monotonous Taiga (thick forest).
I married in 2012, and found it revealing to discover from my dad what it’s like being coupled for nearly 50 years. I now saw my parents as two regular people rather than mom and dad, and we were two buddies shooting the breeze rather than father and son. Moments like this unfolded throughout the trip, taking us to conversational regions we’d never explored before.
Rolling in to Mongolia’s capital as the sun crested its surrounding mountains, rich blues and reds coloured the morning sky and round ger tents were abundant. Their density increased then swiftly gave way to modern concrete edifices and the odd high-rise. Ulaanbaatar ‘s (UB) downtown core is surprisingly contemporary and lively. Modern business suits mix with traditional dress in a city that seems to be coming to grips with its place in the modern world.
Extensive grasslands, or steppe as it’s known, are striking and begin just outside UB’s expanse. A couple days were spent wandering wide-open spaces, sleeping in gers and riding horses, all integral to the Mongolian experience. We left with a profound appreciation for these enduring people whom eke out an existence in a very harsh land.
Aboard a surprisingly modern Mongolian train we rolled out of UB for the two-day trip to Beijing with a sense of anticipation that the Trans-Siberian/Mongolian portion of our journey was nearing completion. Grasslands gave way to scrub, then sand, and finally camels, as we glided along the Gobi Desert’s extreme eastern edges and night overtook day.
Beijing was a bit of an afterthought, as we’d both been before. That said, The Forbidden City, Summer Palace, Tiananmen Square and Great Wall are all sites first-time visitors should experience. We opted to stroll the hutong (traditional courtyard community) we were staying in and visited the very eclectic 798 District. Formerly a munitions manufacturing quarter, it’s been transformed into a highly creative area, home to art galleries and inventive boutiques.
08:00: Beijing to Shenzhen: at 2,372 kilometres, it’s the world’s longest high-speed railway and takes just over 10 hours, a stark contrast to the sluggish Trans-Siberian now far behind. Upon arrival we jumped Shenzhen’s subway system to the border with Hong Kong and crossed by foot.
Navigating Hong Kong’s subway system to our final hotel, emerging to the city’s syncopated lights and towering skyscrapers was reminiscent of scenes from Blade Runner. Hong Kong dazzles, with its ultra-modern colliding against the highly traditional and is one of the planet’s must-experience cities.
A couple days later we were standing at Hong Kong Airport’s departures area, facing a moment I’d been dreading: Saying “Goodbye”. For the first time in three weeks we were short on words. We’d laughed, gotten along famously and learned a lot about one another.
If it takes being cooped-up in a small train cabin for 11,000 kilometres to connect like this, I’m up for riding the rails anytime.
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