Greetings from beautiful Tomsk. And I mean beautiful. After a one-night stand in Novosibirsk, we caught a “mashrutka” (a minibus) about four hours north for our one stop off the railroad line into Siberia. A word about Novosibersk is in order, though.

First, Novosibirsk (“New Siberia”) is Russia’s third largest city.  Really? And no one’s ever heard of it? Even Mark, who majored in Russian, had never heard of it. And it’s the equivalent of Chicago. Who knew?

Our hotel, the Novosibirsk, is actually nicer than its outward Soviet-style appearance would suggest

And the hotel. Mark already posted this picture, but it’s worth seeing it again. Beyond the massive Soviet architecture, there were two notable things about the hotel. First, they do your laundry for free. For free! Hotels charge obscene prices to do laundry, which is a particular problem in Russia where we have been unable to find a single laundromat. Not one. And in the one hotel that we’re just staying overnight, they do laundry for free. Yet one more piece of evidence that there is no God.

Almost as bizarre is the strip club in the hotel. This was no seedy rat-trap we were staying in; it’s a nice hotel. But not only is there a strip club in it or attached to it, but they advertise it at the check-in desk and in the elevator along with the other amenities. You know, spa, restaurant, meeting spaces, strip club. I thought it was weird.

Our mashrutka

OK, time to leave Novosibirsk. We head off to the bus station, an adventure in itself; we took the subway to where we thought it would be easy to walk, and it wasn’t. We wandered pretty lost in somewhat industrial Novosibersk with our not-small luggage, but eventually got there. The mashrutka is nearly full. They pack us in – 12 people, one driver who looked like Rodney Dangerfield, but not so handsome – and off we go through stop-and-go traffic in stifling heat, packed like sardines with Russians. Apparently Siberians think fresh air is an unnecessary luxury, because that mashrutka was stifling. At one point a little kid opened the window next to him just a little. The old woman sitting behind him quickly reached forward and closed it – no fresh air coming in here, she seemed to say. And all with not an extra square inch to move in.

Mark & Chekov on the Tom River

At one point it starts raining, and the minibus apparently is not waterproof. It starts leaking on the guy sitting next to me. It wakes him up, he sees what’s happening … and closes his eyes to go back to sleep. Doesn’t budge an inch to try to get out of the dripping rain. I’m eager to get to the point in traveling like this when the little things – a leaking roof – just doesn’t bother me. What’s the worst that could happened? He got a little wet and it quit raining. A man at peace in his environment.

So the trip was hellish. But we did get off the beaten track, driving through some beautiful countryside with acres of beautiful yellow wild flowers. And we survived. At one point we stopped at a rest stop, a welcome change of pace. As we were reboarding, I saw the driver of a larger bus come out of the little cafeteria with a glass of beer. He boards his bus, puts the beer glass on the dashboard, and, when everyone is onboard, pulls away. You don’t see that in the U.S. every day!

Lenin is everywhere

Now we’re in this lovely Siberian college town, kind of a cross between Cambridge and Duluth. Lenin is still here. There are gorgeous old wooden buildings and beautiful stone buildings and great churches and parks and … it’s just really beautiful. In the evenings, which last hours and hours, the sunlight adds a great touch. It was just one evening so far – we have the whole day today to explore and relax – but it was really beautiful.

More wooden Siberian architecture

Beautiful windows

Russian church

View during the long sunset

And dinner! We went to a traditional Siberian restaurant and started with vodka shots, blini, and caviar. It’s just heaven, and honestly not that expensive. It’s not something just for special occasions or for the rich, but a typical starter. And you’ll notice a little red condiment dish in the photo. It was pretty much just tomato and garlic and it was heaven. Something so simple and amazing. Eating our way through Siberia…

Blini, caviar, and vodka, how every meal should start

Yesterday was another train day — a 13-hour run from Krasnoyarsk to Novosibirsk. Because it was another non-overnight stretch, we opted again for second-class and once again got lucky with a cabin to ourselves.

Now seems like a good time to mention the train ‘conductor,’ who plays a big role in your daily life aboard the Trans Siberian. Each car has its own conductor, a ‘provodnitsa’ in Russian, who keeps things moving along. She is typically a robust woman, past middle age, with a stern countenance. She opens and closes the doors at stops, checks your tickets, issues blankets and sheets, keeps the toilets (relatively) clean, and keeps her eye on everything. We are generally afraid of her.

You can also get a male ‘provodnets,’ but that s rare. Yesterday’s surprise was that most of the conductors on this train were surprisingly young women who did not fit the mold at all. They actually smiled a bit and seemed more approachable. Initially, I foolishly thought this seemed like a good thing.

Our last couple stops were off the beaten path a bit.  While most non-Russian tourists stop at Lake Baikal and a couple other places, not so many stop in Krasnoyarsk or Novosibirsk. On this train between those two stops, we in fact never encountered a single person who was discernibly not Russian. Our car was also very family-oriented. By that I mean there were a half dozen children who greatly enjoyed running up and down the hallway and making lots of noise. The only time I saw children start to get so rambunctious on a previous train, the provodnitsa materialized instantly and shut it down fast. I missed her today.

From Novosibirsk we are going to take a side trip to Tomsk, traveling there today by minibus. Meanwhile, here are a couple quick shots from Novosibirsk in Western Siberia, Russia’s third largest city.

Interesting architecture mix in Novosibirsk

Lilacs are just coming into full bloom in mid June

Nobody does Big Sculpture like the Communists did

Our hotel, the Novosibirsk, is actually nicer than its outward Soviet-style appearance would suggest

Who ever thought I’d spend a day in Krasnoyarsk? Anton Chekov called it the most beautiful city in Siberia, which I assume he meant as a compliment, so there’s a statue of him just a stone’s throw from our hotel. To give Krasnoyarsk it’s due, it is beautiful – or at least the part of it we saw -and it’s not a small city. With just under a million residents, it would be the 10th largest city in the U.S., after Dallas and ahead of San Jose.

Anton Chekov

Much of our day was spent walking to the Stolby Nature Preserve. Getting there, as they say, was half the fun. We weren’t sure exactly the route and so we kind of wandered for a couple hours. It’s amazing what you can see when you’re either lost or at least unsure of the relationship between your current location and your destination.

Like presumably any city in a former Soviet Republic, architecture is a mixture of old and beautiful, on the one hand, and monstrous, on the other. There was plenty of the latter – large apartment buildings that are just stunningly awful; the sort of thing where apparently getting it built had a lot more backing than doing it right. Sad playgrounds that are run over by weeds and just not maintained at all. Industrial buildings that may have been beautiful once but are collapsing eyesores now. The one shown here appears to be or have been part of something called KrasnoPharm; if it’s their pharmaceutical industry, Kendall Square in Cambridge has got nothing to worry about!

Soviet apartments

Sad playgrounds

We were amused to find, though, that apparently there are human resources available for some public works maintenance.  We found these nine workers sprucing up this single bus stop on our route, precisely four of whom were actually working.  You’ll be glad to know that when we came back after hiking in the Nature Preserve, it was … better.

Nine staff, four workers, one bus stop

To our surprise, we actually found the place we were looking for.  There was supposed to be a chair lift going up into the preserve, a 180 square mile park famous for its granite rock formations. As is starting to appear common we weren’t at all sure we were in the right place and after two hours were starting to think about packing it in. Suddenly, though it began to look as though we were in the right place, so we turned up into a valley that looked promising.

We were optimistic, when a young guy asked us in pretty good English where we were from.  We stopped to chat and ask him about the chair lift we were looking for; he explained that we were in the right place generally, but needed to go back and take a different street. Ultimately he drove us there, telling us about his year in Milwaukee and a couple side trips to Duluth; you could tell he thought I was something of an amateur for calling Duluth “cold.”

So finally we made it to the Stolby Nature Preserve, and it was totally worth the effort. Beautiful views, some great hiking trails, nice weather. The guidebook made clear that there are an abundance of ticks in the woods there, just two days after Mark had gotten his first woodtick ever while hiking around Lake Baikal, something he was none too keen on.  Then when I saw a snake on the trail it was clear we weren’t going to linger up there.  But it was beautiful.

The trail

The view

The rocks

The city

Lunch, before we went up the chairlift, was a treat, too. We sat on a balcony overlooking a beautiful little river and town. Blini with caviar, lightly pickled herring on rye bread, some venison-filled dumplings. That can make a man happy.

Our lunch view

The trip home was amusing. There is a bus stop at the bottom of the chair lift, and we figured it would take us somewhere near the city center, so we got in one that came just as we were getting there. We didn’t know really where it was going, but we knew it would start in the right direction and just figured if it made a wrong turn we’d get off; at worst we’d be out the 65 cents each.  Turns out it dropped us off across the street from our hotel. In other words, 135 minutes outbound and maybe 15 minutes back. I love it when things work that nicely!