Trans-Siberian Railway – if a man stands between you and your heating, don’t p**s him off! The spring onion story

Crossing Siberia by train is highly recommended. The landscapes change with almost every passing hour, and each morning the daylight reveals a scene utterly different from the one that disappeared into the previous night. Life on the train is exciting, with traders, smugglers and families making their way across Russia and into China. The second class carriages have hot plates at each end, where the Chinese travellers knock up some delicious concoctions each day. We passed this three times a day while we trooped to the restaurant car for our servings of slop – the food will make another story, and another post sometime soon.

Once we boarded in Moscow, and having read the many accounts of tourist getting into trouble for being planted with drugs etc, I searched our cabin. I was surprised, but not alarmed, to find a bunch of spring onions (scallions to Americans). Assuming they had been left by the previous travellers and knowing nothing at that point of the cooking that went on aboard the train, I decided that the best course of action would be to throw the unwanted vegetables from the window once we were moving along. After all, I didn’t want them rotting in our cabin for the next week.

All was well, and our carriage guard smiled and greeted us. He knew no English and our Mandarin was weak so the encounter was brief. No matter. Around midnight, we had got into our bunks and switched off the lights, when I heard someone fiddling with the catch on the door. I looked up, and the guard had come in and was fiddling around under my bunk. A bit strange I thought, but didn’t say anything, and let him get on with it. He prodded around and poked and eventually mumbled something and left.

It then dawned on me. The onions!! They were clearly his and he was now wanting to cook with them. No more than a minute later, he was back – this time with a torch and a big stick. This time I was worried! He shone the torch under the cabin bunks, then poked around with the stick into the corners. He muttered in annoyance – I stayed quiet and feigned ignorance. What could I do? He eventually left looking decidedly unhappy. We looked at each other in shock – we had just thrown our guard’s main food supply away on day 1 of a 6 day journey!

The next day we could barely look him in the eye. He did manage to get his food with the help of others on the train. As for us – well he had the last laugh. As we plunged into the freezing Siberian temperatures, our cabin remained unheated while those around us were warm. We wrapped up with our blankets at night to protect us from the cold, and drank hot drinks in the day as a tonic. And our revenge-obsessed friend smiled to us once more – as we disembarked in Beijing. 14 years on I still wonder – was that smile intended to illicit a tip from us, or was a mocking gesture to remind us that even though we might have had the money to enjoy first class ($50 extra for a six day trip back then!) he still held the strongest cards. No matter which it is, I will be wary of annoying anyone who has the power to control our heating in future!

(Apr 1995)