Russia: A Journey across Siberia
9 million daily commuters are propelled along dimly-lit carriages, and we emerge into the city streets, overpowered by the sheer immensity of, well, everything.
9 million daily commuters are propelled along dimly-lit carriages, and we emerge into the city streets, overpowered by the sheer immensity of, well, everything.
Day 1. Sunday 16th August
Location: Vladikavkaz, North Ossetia-Alania
After a 9 hour day of waiting in barely moving lines, jumping in and out of other travellers vans and buses, we finally cross the border from Georgia to Russia. This far-flung region is coloured orange on the Safe Traveller websites. Do not travel unless essential.
Red-coloured Chechnya lies 50km to our right. (Don’t travel. Just don’t.) The city names here are familiar from decades of civil war screened on western television stations. This is as Soviet as it gets. We feel far from home in this grey, cracked city. Our dilapidated bus, complete with missing windows and non-reclining seats will be our overnight transport of choice.
Not that we really have a choice.
But we have a goal: Get to Volgograd.
We admire the ornate ceiling of the bus station, collecting stares from locals as we take a few photos. Day blurs into night as we pass nondescript towns and farmland. Our GPS has no signal. We nibble on sweetened bread as the rumble through the night. Where are we?
Through the cloak of darkness we pass countless border checks as our bus route zig-zags through regions unknown. Russian guards pull us off our ancient bus again and again. Posters of Chechnyian and Dagestan terrorists adorn the walls. Have you seen these men?
At 4am, we’re pulled aside into a stark room while the guard pours over our passports.
“Australian?” be barks in his thick Russian accent.
We nod.
“Good Luck.”
The full-stop hangs in the air as he hands us back our documents.
After a 9 hour day of waiting in barely moving lines, jumping in and out of other travellers vans and buses, we finally cross the border from Georgia to Russia. This far-flung region is coloured orange on the Safe Traveller websites. Do not travel unless essential.
Red-coloured Chechnya lies 50km to our right. (Don’t travel. Just don’t.) The city names here are familiar from decades of civil war screened on western television stations. This is as Soviet as it gets. We feel far from home in this grey, cracked city. Our dilapidated bus, complete with missing windows and non-reclining seats will be our overnight transport of choice.
Not that we really have a choice.
But we have a goal: Get to Volgograd.
We admire the ornate ceiling of the bus station, collecting stares from locals as we take a few photos. Day blurs into night as we pass nondescript towns and farmland. Our GPS has no signal. We nibble on sweetened bread as the rumble through the night. Where are we?
Through the cloak of darkness we pass countless border checks as our bus route zig-zags through regions unknown. Russian guards pull us off our ancient bus again and again. Posters of Chechnyian and Dagestan terrorists adorn the walls. Have you seen these men?
At 4am, we’re pulled aside into a stark room while the guard pours over our passports.
“Australian?” be barks in his thick Russian accent.
We nod.
“Good Luck.”
The full-stop hangs in the air as he hands us back our documents.
Day 2. Monday 17th August
Location: Volgograd
The sun burns through the misty landscape as dawn breaks over Kalmykia and our bumpy bus continues its eons-long journey. Our sleepless night becomes sleepless day as the highway widens, straightens and traffic builds. Our destination is on the horizon. A city known for the location of the largest and bloodiest battle in the history of war.
Volgograd.
Volgo-grad. Formerly Stalin-grad. Formerly Tsar-itsyn, all grand names for a place in the middle of nowhere. The nearest large city is Moscow - over 500km away. A decent cup of coffee will have to wait.
We fight through our weariness, dump our packs in train station lockers, and make our way to the monolithic Motherland Calls statue.
Architecturally complex, the fourth-largest statue in the world is utterly belittling. Commemorating the battle of Stalingrad, she stands graceful yet Herculean atop a hill, visible for miles, reminding the world of the strength of the Russian spirit. Not a statue of a man, nor of a bear. Russia is perhaps more sensitive of gender equality than we realised.
200 steps, symbolising the 200 days of battle meander up the hill to this 7,900 tonne statue - the weight of 50 blue whales. In fact, if you took them off their plinths, she’s nearly twice the height of the Statue of Liberty.
But she isn’t alone - the whole site is surrounded by dominating sculptures of soldiers in battles, supporting each other, fighting, winning, and celebrating; courageous and victorious. A massive hand holding the eternal flame burns brightly guarded by a silent and unmoving solider. The sounds of soldiers singing in chorus wafts through the air. Huge Soviet phrases are slashed into massive stone walls. Lenin and Stalin busts are sprinkled generously throughout. A graceful mother is slumped over her dying son (or husband?) as he takes his last breaths.
And over this whole spectacle watches the immense mother of all, powerful and brave, leading the way to battle, to courageous victories, to a powerful future.
It stirs the emotions, and makes us realise just how dangerous it would be to stand between a Russia and the last remaining bottle of vodka in the world.
But our journey must continue. We board a smooth, modern train for another overnight journey in our cabin of 4. We sail past industrial chimneys spewing black clouds into the air as the Motherland fades into the distance. It doesn’t take long for the monotonous horizon and the gentle rocking of the train to put us into a deep slumber.
The sun burns through the misty landscape as dawn breaks over Kalmykia and our bumpy bus continues its eons-long journey. Our sleepless night becomes sleepless day as the highway widens, straightens and traffic builds. Our destination is on the horizon. A city known for the location of the largest and bloodiest battle in the history of war.
Volgograd.
Volgo-grad. Formerly Stalin-grad. Formerly Tsar-itsyn, all grand names for a place in the middle of nowhere. The nearest large city is Moscow - over 500km away. A decent cup of coffee will have to wait.
We fight through our weariness, dump our packs in train station lockers, and make our way to the monolithic Motherland Calls statue.
Architecturally complex, the fourth-largest statue in the world is utterly belittling. Commemorating the battle of Stalingrad, she stands graceful yet Herculean atop a hill, visible for miles, reminding the world of the strength of the Russian spirit. Not a statue of a man, nor of a bear. Russia is perhaps more sensitive of gender equality than we realised.
200 steps, symbolising the 200 days of battle meander up the hill to this 7,900 tonne statue - the weight of 50 blue whales. In fact, if you took them off their plinths, she’s nearly twice the height of the Statue of Liberty.
But she isn’t alone - the whole site is surrounded by dominating sculptures of soldiers in battles, supporting each other, fighting, winning, and celebrating; courageous and victorious. A massive hand holding the eternal flame burns brightly guarded by a silent and unmoving solider. The sounds of soldiers singing in chorus wafts through the air. Huge Soviet phrases are slashed into massive stone walls. Lenin and Stalin busts are sprinkled generously throughout. A graceful mother is slumped over her dying son (or husband?) as he takes his last breaths.
And over this whole spectacle watches the immense mother of all, powerful and brave, leading the way to battle, to courageous victories, to a powerful future.
It stirs the emotions, and makes us realise just how dangerous it would be to stand between a Russia and the last remaining bottle of vodka in the world.
But our journey must continue. We board a smooth, modern train for another overnight journey in our cabin of 4. We sail past industrial chimneys spewing black clouds into the air as the Motherland fades into the distance. It doesn’t take long for the monotonous horizon and the gentle rocking of the train to put us into a deep slumber.
Day 3. Tuesday 18th August
Location: Moscow
The door slides open and an impressively moustachioed man in a cleanly-pressed uniform barks something in Russian to our companions. We must be nearing our destination, and as the light outside slowly brightens, agricultural fields and villages are replaced by the outskirts of the 860 year old capital of Russia.
In two overnight journeys, we crossed a curious part of the world - a 1800km section of Russia that would get you almost two-thirds of the way between Los Angeles and New York. And we hadn’t even begun our long journey yet.
We pull into this metropolis of 20 million people, and negotiate our way through the oh-so-Soviet underground metro, a sight within itself. 9 million daily commuters are propelled along dimly-lit carriages, and we emerge into the city streets, overpowered by the sheer immensity of, well, everything.
Under steel grey skies we wander the streets, gawking at towering Soviet buildings, adorned in characteristic pale greens and solid pinks. The streets are wide and clean, and locals pass in silence, rugged in warm cloaks and fur hats against the unseasonably cool winds.
With what feels like our first warm meal in days in our bellies, we head straight to Red Square to marvel at St Basil’s Cathedral with its signature onion-domed spires decorating the sky with greens, blues, yellows and reds. It’s seriously impressive, and we wonder why the Gingerbread style of architecture never caught on.
But we have important things to do now that we’re in a big city. i.e. shopping. Our selfie stick, a staple of our ‘Where We Sleep’ project, was on its last legs, held together with a careful combination of hope and sticky-tape, so we dart around the city searching for something that was on every single corner in Istanbul. After a few hours, we eventually find one in an up-market department store. No luck, however, for a guidebook for either China or Mongolia. Unbeknownst to us, we’d be turning up to both these countries in the coming weeks with no idea about anything…
The door slides open and an impressively moustachioed man in a cleanly-pressed uniform barks something in Russian to our companions. We must be nearing our destination, and as the light outside slowly brightens, agricultural fields and villages are replaced by the outskirts of the 860 year old capital of Russia.
In two overnight journeys, we crossed a curious part of the world - a 1800km section of Russia that would get you almost two-thirds of the way between Los Angeles and New York. And we hadn’t even begun our long journey yet.
We pull into this metropolis of 20 million people, and negotiate our way through the oh-so-Soviet underground metro, a sight within itself. 9 million daily commuters are propelled along dimly-lit carriages, and we emerge into the city streets, overpowered by the sheer immensity of, well, everything.
Under steel grey skies we wander the streets, gawking at towering Soviet buildings, adorned in characteristic pale greens and solid pinks. The streets are wide and clean, and locals pass in silence, rugged in warm cloaks and fur hats against the unseasonably cool winds.
With what feels like our first warm meal in days in our bellies, we head straight to Red Square to marvel at St Basil’s Cathedral with its signature onion-domed spires decorating the sky with greens, blues, yellows and reds. It’s seriously impressive, and we wonder why the Gingerbread style of architecture never caught on.
But we have important things to do now that we’re in a big city. i.e. shopping. Our selfie stick, a staple of our ‘Where We Sleep’ project, was on its last legs, held together with a careful combination of hope and sticky-tape, so we dart around the city searching for something that was on every single corner in Istanbul. After a few hours, we eventually find one in an up-market department store. No luck, however, for a guidebook for either China or Mongolia. Unbeknownst to us, we’d be turning up to both these countries in the coming weeks with no idea about anything…
Day 4. Wednesday 19th August
Location: Moscow
In the morning, we decide to take more interest in the oddly-placed wall decorations throughout our hostel. Pete pulls away a 90-degree turned canvas of the Eiffel Tower to reveal a sizeable part of the wall missing. Another canvas is covering the toilet wall and sure enough, behind it the piping had been pulled out. Guess it’s cheaper than re-tiling.
We also have a giggle at all the signs up everywhere - particularly in the communal kitchen. Penalties range from 1500-5000 roubles for doing most of the things you’d hope to do in a kitchen, and we’re tempted by the huge arrow pointing at a knob, saying ‘Don’t Touch’. But best not to play games here. Perhaps they’d force us to use the rowing machine that lives in the overly-wide stairwell.
But it’s time for some culture, so we head to the Kremlin, or the “The Moscow Kremlin State Historical and Cultural Museum and Heritage Site” as it’s officially known. We wander past marching soldiers and off-limits government buildings, keeping an eye out for the big cheese himself, Putin. We hope to catch him as he’s just ‘popping down to the shops’ in slippers and a bathrobe, but we’re out of luck this time. He’s probably at one of his weekend palaces wrestling bears. Or invading another country.
The Kremlin fortress is huge, its proud red walls encompassing no less than four cathedrals and five palaces, with plenty of curious side-attractions such as oversized cannons, manicured gardens and the 200-tonne Tsar Bell. It’s the worlds largest, and naturally, was never used. Instead, it sits outside by the road - an odd location.
The palaces are full of horse-drawn carriages, ancient artefacts and impressive gowns and dresses worn by the queens of Russia past. But buried deep in the bowels is the real treasure - the Diamond Fund, one of the three most valuable jewel collections in the world. A handful of rooms, full of sparkles, house gemstones which run into the hundreds of carats.
Despite the strict look-but-don’t-touch policy, Pete managed to distract a guard by whistling the Red Army classic ‘Dark-Eyed Cossack Girl” while Emma swiped a tiara to help finance the rest of our trip.
If only it were so easy.
With an afternoon spent admiring Russian grandeur, we headed toward the hip hangout of Gorky Park to catch the sunset over the Moskva River, passing a curiosity on the way. In what appeared to be an assigned ’Quiet Zone’, fresh white-painted wooden benches and bookshelves were strategically placed all along a pedestrianised street. A nice way to add a bit of variety to the dense gridlock of streets.
In the morning, we decide to take more interest in the oddly-placed wall decorations throughout our hostel. Pete pulls away a 90-degree turned canvas of the Eiffel Tower to reveal a sizeable part of the wall missing. Another canvas is covering the toilet wall and sure enough, behind it the piping had been pulled out. Guess it’s cheaper than re-tiling.
We also have a giggle at all the signs up everywhere - particularly in the communal kitchen. Penalties range from 1500-5000 roubles for doing most of the things you’d hope to do in a kitchen, and we’re tempted by the huge arrow pointing at a knob, saying ‘Don’t Touch’. But best not to play games here. Perhaps they’d force us to use the rowing machine that lives in the overly-wide stairwell.
But it’s time for some culture, so we head to the Kremlin, or the “The Moscow Kremlin State Historical and Cultural Museum and Heritage Site” as it’s officially known. We wander past marching soldiers and off-limits government buildings, keeping an eye out for the big cheese himself, Putin. We hope to catch him as he’s just ‘popping down to the shops’ in slippers and a bathrobe, but we’re out of luck this time. He’s probably at one of his weekend palaces wrestling bears. Or invading another country.
The Kremlin fortress is huge, its proud red walls encompassing no less than four cathedrals and five palaces, with plenty of curious side-attractions such as oversized cannons, manicured gardens and the 200-tonne Tsar Bell. It’s the worlds largest, and naturally, was never used. Instead, it sits outside by the road - an odd location.
The palaces are full of horse-drawn carriages, ancient artefacts and impressive gowns and dresses worn by the queens of Russia past. But buried deep in the bowels is the real treasure - the Diamond Fund, one of the three most valuable jewel collections in the world. A handful of rooms, full of sparkles, house gemstones which run into the hundreds of carats.
Despite the strict look-but-don’t-touch policy, Pete managed to distract a guard by whistling the Red Army classic ‘Dark-Eyed Cossack Girl” while Emma swiped a tiara to help finance the rest of our trip.
If only it were so easy.
With an afternoon spent admiring Russian grandeur, we headed toward the hip hangout of Gorky Park to catch the sunset over the Moskva River, passing a curiosity on the way. In what appeared to be an assigned ’Quiet Zone’, fresh white-painted wooden benches and bookshelves were strategically placed all along a pedestrianised street. A nice way to add a bit of variety to the dense gridlock of streets.
Day 5. Thursday 20th August
Location: Moscow
Before embarking on our epic four day train journey, we devoted one more day to exploring two quintessential aspects of Russian culture: space exploration, and enjoying oneself in a park.
We expertly navigated through the Cyrillic-lettered metro system like locals and popped up at the excellently named Vystavka Dostizheniy Narodnogo Khozyaystva, or Exhibition of Achievements of National Economy. Better known as VDNKh.
First of all was the titanium-covered Monument to the Conquerers of Space, a 100 meter tall rocket rising on its exhaust. All around the base are constructivist statues depicting scenes of Soviets working together, being progressive through the development of science and technology. It’s inspirational stuff, so we pop into the underground Cosmonautics museum and ogle at rooms full of rockets and space paraphernalia. But it’s Laika’s spacesuit that wins the cuteness award. Oh to be the first dog to orbit the earth in your own little suit…
But it’s a beautifully sunny day, so we head back outside and into the sprawling VDNKh park itself. A carnival atmosphere fills the monolithic area - it’s part trade-show, part exhibition space, and jaw-droppingly huge. At over 2.3 million square meters it’s actually bigger than Monaco.
We take the better part of an hour to lazily wander from one end to the other. Strange music fills the air as families take selfies against gigantic fountains, epic pavilions and towering rockets. Space shuttles and aeroplanes form the backdrop to market stalls selling everything from tiny turtles to Soviet artefacts. Sculptures and distorting mirrors dot the pavements and priceless cars are on display in airplane hangers. VDNKh is a strange place to be on a Thursday, so we buy some ice-cream and settle into the people watching.
Later that evening, we head down to Old Arbat street, a slightly-seedy mall touted as being the ‘Real Russia’ of streets, but we’re less than impressed, and end up in a supermarket preparing for our train journey the next day.
We pass through Red Square on our way back to our hotel, and it dawns on us that this huge space is matched by Beijing’s equally imposing Tiananmen Square at the other end of our Trans-Mongolian journey.
If all goes to plan, we’ll be standing there in a months time.
Before embarking on our epic four day train journey, we devoted one more day to exploring two quintessential aspects of Russian culture: space exploration, and enjoying oneself in a park.
We expertly navigated through the Cyrillic-lettered metro system like locals and popped up at the excellently named Vystavka Dostizheniy Narodnogo Khozyaystva, or Exhibition of Achievements of National Economy. Better known as VDNKh.
First of all was the titanium-covered Monument to the Conquerers of Space, a 100 meter tall rocket rising on its exhaust. All around the base are constructivist statues depicting scenes of Soviets working together, being progressive through the development of science and technology. It’s inspirational stuff, so we pop into the underground Cosmonautics museum and ogle at rooms full of rockets and space paraphernalia. But it’s Laika’s spacesuit that wins the cuteness award. Oh to be the first dog to orbit the earth in your own little suit…
But it’s a beautifully sunny day, so we head back outside and into the sprawling VDNKh park itself. A carnival atmosphere fills the monolithic area - it’s part trade-show, part exhibition space, and jaw-droppingly huge. At over 2.3 million square meters it’s actually bigger than Monaco.
We take the better part of an hour to lazily wander from one end to the other. Strange music fills the air as families take selfies against gigantic fountains, epic pavilions and towering rockets. Space shuttles and aeroplanes form the backdrop to market stalls selling everything from tiny turtles to Soviet artefacts. Sculptures and distorting mirrors dot the pavements and priceless cars are on display in airplane hangers. VDNKh is a strange place to be on a Thursday, so we buy some ice-cream and settle into the people watching.
Later that evening, we head down to Old Arbat street, a slightly-seedy mall touted as being the ‘Real Russia’ of streets, but we’re less than impressed, and end up in a supermarket preparing for our train journey the next day.
We pass through Red Square on our way back to our hotel, and it dawns on us that this huge space is matched by Beijing’s equally imposing Tiananmen Square at the other end of our Trans-Mongolian journey.
If all goes to plan, we’ll be standing there in a months time.
Practical Information
Our full Itinerary is on the Russia Page
Is the south (Vladikavkaz) safe?
Always check government travel advisory websites, and note that your travel insurance will almost certainly not cover you if the area isn’t deemed safe. We use both Australia’s Smarttraveller and the UK’s Foreign Travel Advice.
We chose to keep a low profile and minimise our time in the area.
How to get from Georgia to Russia
Scheduled information was very difficult to come by, both online and in person. There seems to be a bus service from Tbilisi, which connects to Volgograd. This has to go via Stepantsminda (Kazbegi) in Georgia, but we couldn’t find any information there. Our advice would be to try get a bus from Tbilisi, otherwise you’ll be doing what we did.
There are no train services from Georgia to Russia. All flights go via Moscow.
How to get from the south (Vladikavkaz) to the north (Moscow via Volgograd)
If you’re in Russia, it’s easy to get around. Vladikavkaz is well connected, with both bus and train options. We used an overnight bus to Volgograd, then an overnight train to Moscow. We booked tickets at the stations on arrival.
How did we find accommodation?
We pre-arranged accommodation in Moscow, required for our visa. We knew our dates due to already having booked our Trans-Siberian Railway tickets in advance.
Where did we stay in Moscow?
Tverskaya Loft (Tverskaya St, 12, стр. 7, Moscow, Russia, 125009) was great value, had large, clean rooms and a killer location, only 1.6km from Red Square with three metro stops nearby. Bonus points for the little bakery just around the corner.
Volgograd in 1 day
We arrived early in the morning and left on an overnight train. The city has a tram which is cheap and convenient to get to the Motherland Calls Statue (Mamayev Kurgan). Set aside around 2 hours to explore the site at a leisurely pace. There is also the Panorama Museum for history buffs, and plenty of WW2-significant ruins around the city.
Moscow in 3 days
Moscow is quite overwhelming. There are a huge number of museums, monasteries and architectural oddities to see, and forward planning definitely helps here.
Day 1: Red Square, GUM Department Store and central area (Bolshoi Theatre)
Day 2: Kremlin, Gorky Park, Stary Arbat street for dinner
Day 3: VDNKh & Space Museum
Half the fun is getting around via the metro: Kiyevskaya, Dostoyevskaya, Prospect Mira and Mayakovskaya are all amazing. Ploshchad Revolyutsii the one with the lucky dog whose nose everyone rubs.
Oh, and don’t miss eating at the cafeteria-styled chain, Moo Moo cafe. Great value.