Round the World I: Beijing to Berlin (2)

** Note: all headings in italic and underlined indicate a travel journal entry which indicate the date written and location. At times they do not match the timeline exactly. Italicized passages are the notes I wrote on the journey.

[Continued from Round the World I: Sendai to Beijing (1)]

May 1987

CHINA

Beijing (departure)

Beijing Railway Station

As usual with an early morning departure, I barely slept. I woke early and navigated all the buses and subways necessary between the Jin Hua Hotel and Beijing Central Station. I collected my stored bags - they were cumbersome. Finally, I boarded the train - not without drama (I was in China). My seat was reassigned. I arrived at my "hard sleeper" (more like Chinese "soft sleeper" - thank God). I met my compartment mates: Guy & Cheryl from Canada and Anna from Sweden. We spent much of the first day eating, drinking, and chatting - getting to know each other. Guy & Cheryl were on year two of travel while Anna, like me, had only been out a month.

Beijing to Erlian

The train traveled north from Beijing through the rugged terrain and passed under the Great Wall. Since the train followed the same line as the one to Datong, I was more interested in conversation and getting to know fellow passengers. Most people excitedly looked out the window till nightfall.

Upon reaching the last Chinese city (and immigration) at Erlian, it was already night. The station was strangely lit up with music blaring. We all wondered if it was a "show" for the international train. No other stations in China were similar. Passengers changed their remaining yuan to dollars, but only to the nearest dollar. That meant everyone had some yuan left. We all shopped for snacks and supplies at the little station store whose offerings grew more sparse as more passengers entered. They must have been used to it - but what a weird scenario: a bunch of foreigners using their last yuan to buy "stuff" before exiting China!

Notes:

May 21 (Beijing-Irkutsk, Gobi Desert, Mongolia - train)

I hardly slept, but I got off OK. I fought my way through the buses and subway and finally arrived at Beijing Central Station. I waited some time to collect my bag from left luggage. I boarded the train only to find a mistake had been made and I was assigned to a different car. I settled into my "hard sleeper" which is much like a "soft sleeper" on a normal Chinese train. As fate would have it, I am with 2 Canadians, Guy & Cheryl and a Swede, Anna. We all get on OK. Cheryl & Guy have been traveling for two years all over and Anna for about a month. We are a mixed, motley crew. Much of the first day was spent talking, eating, and drinking.

As I had seen the Beijing - Datong portion before (the train follows much of that route), I was more absorbed in conversation. The last stop in China, Erlian, was kind of weird with outdoor music and an illuminated station. Such a scenario! We all got off the train after surrendering our passports to the officials. We changed our remaining yuan to dollars but they only changed to the nearest dollar. That meant we all had yuan left. There was limited food at the train station shop.  As people changed money and tried to use up their remaining yuan, the store had less and less to sell. Yuan were useless outside of China. It was funny to watch that scene of money changing and buying unfold.

CROSSING MONGOLIA

The actual border crossing into Mongolia took place at night but it was still clear the border was heavily fortified. We passed through multiple fences guarded by soldiers with dogs. In those days, Mongolia was more aligned with the USSR than with China. We slept wondering how Mongolia would look at first light.

The morning brought vast emptiness. Rolling grassland as far as the eye could see made the train and rails feel like a scratch on the earth. The ride through Mongolia was disappointingly dull - just undulating, treeless, low hills as far as the eye could see. I spotted a yurt or two from the train, but not much else.

Finally we arrived in Ulaanbatar. The capital was all low-rise and looked "small". In those days Ulaanbatar was so small that when we stopped in the station, we didn't even know we had arrived in a city!. The stop was long, too, about a half hour. We already missed the Chinese dining car even if the food hadn't been that good. The Mongolian version was worse. We all wondered about the Soviet dining car that awaited us at the border several hours later. Passengers were allowed to walk on the platform and I noted most Mongolians wore Western clothes. We did see a few in traditional wear (I thought it looked amazing). Overall, the scene was drab and dull.

One jarring sight was all the young Soviet soldiers. Their blonde hair and blue eyes looked completely foreign (and they looked too young to be soldiers).

As we traveled north, the scenery became hillier and greener. We spoke to each other nervously about entering the Soviet Union that evening. In retrospect, nothing was appealing about crossing Mongolia in April - I looked forward to getting to Russia.

Notes:

The border crossing into Mongolia was bizarre. It was already dark and we passed many fences and guards with dogs. Mongolian immigration and customs was very lax entering. How would it be later that evening upon leaving? Who knows? After the border crossing stuff was finished, we all fell into a deep sleep wondering what the Mongolian scenery would look like tomorrow.

More to come...

May 22 (Lake Baikal, Irkutsk, USSR)

Mongolia swallowed up the train. The southern part is flat grassland which progressively became hilly and less arid as we traveled north. I expected to see camels and men on horseback (ha, ha). I did see some yurts and very few people. The emptiness is penetrating. Ulaan Baatar was a letdown for me. We stayed in the station for about 30 minutes. The city is very small with mostly low buildings, much like Datong, China. The people were mostly dressed in Western clothes with only a few wearing traditional ones. Traditional Mongolian clothes look great! I would love to buy some pieces. Lots of Soviet soldiers are milling around. They look very young. It felt disturbing.

Travel Mates

The entry into the USSR took a very long time and was as "unsettling" as crossing into Mongolia from China. Mostly it involved waiting while watching severe military presence outside the train.

During the long border crossings, we got to know each other more on the train. Anna, in my compartment, was a laid-back Swede returning from travel in China. She was kind and generous - I found most Scandinavians I met to be similar. Guy & Cheryl were Canadian - we discussed many of the US/Canada topics I had talked about with Canadian colleauges BP and VH in Sendai over the years. They were extremely good compartment mates, too. In the rest of the carriage were an assortment of others. The Onishi's from Nagoya were getting off with me in Irkutsk. They were very upbeat travelers - they would have been fun to know in Japan. Diane from the US was extremely energetic and enthusiastic (and VERY American).

Slowly, the passengers were starting to meet each other. Everyone was on a "grand adventure" so the mood was incredible. The trip had already exceeded all expectations for me.

Notes:

Leaving Mongolia and entering the USSR was a long and unsettling process (mainly due to the military presence). Now, however, having summed up Mongolia (easily), I turn to commenting on my fellow passengers some more. Anna the Swede, who just traveled through China, is as laid-back a person as anyone could find. She is very kind and sharing - typical of most Scandinavians I have met so far. Then there is Guy & Cheryl, the Canadian couple. We discussed the usual US/Canada topics that I talked about with BP and VH in Sendai for years. Guy is a real party guy and Cheryl is more of a "granola" type. Both are very nice. I also met the Onishi's, they are getting off in Irkutsk with me. From Nagoya, they are a very upbeat couple. Too bad I never met them in Japan. Then, Diane is an American from Philly who is so full of energy it's incredible. She is also soooo American. And there are a lot of other interesting characters as well. We all have had a lot of fun talking and watching the scenery pass by. This trip has exceeded all expectations of fun - I really like it.

the border incident (Mongolia/USSR)

As passengers quickly became friends, we arrived at the border late at night. I was not in my compartment (my passport was there in my bag) and the immigration officials were coming through. I quickly scrambled through the long train to realize my carriage was on the OTHER side of the dining car which had just been decoupled. No problem, I would get off the train and walk to my carriage and get on on again. Two Mongolian guards pointed rifles at me the moment I stepped off the train. Yeah, that really happened. I just looked at them in terror. I spoke English to them, I spoke Japanese to them, I used non-verbal communication. They just pointed their guns. Finally, one said "Speak Russian". I felt like I was in a movie. Finally, I convinced them that I had to get to my carriage (which was visible). They escorted me there.

Lesson learned: take border crossings VERY SERIOUSLY.

Notes:

Sidestory: when they disconnected the Mongolian dining car at the border, I got stuck in the wrong half of the train. Then I needed to explain my way out of it (as in, why I was not with my passport). That was "exciting", but still - we had no heavy searches of our things, it was just a lot of bureaucracy.

USSR

an alphabet!

The border crossing into the Russian SSR was somewhat less dramatic than crossing into Mongolia had been (in spite of my own border incident). It made sense. Mongolia was aligned with the Soviet Union which made for painless immigration. What WAS amazing was getting off the train in Russia and being greeted by all blond-haired, blue-eyed soldiers whilst a few kilometers behind me were the descendants of Genghis Khan. It was jolting visually to cross into Occidental space through a land border. We had hints of that in Ulaanbator, but in Russia itself it was overwhelming. Of course, there were lots of Soviet Asians around (they were native), but just seeing that many white people was a shock after three years in Asia. AND, I was able to "read" again. After three long years of being functionally illiterate in Japan (and having China be even more obtuse), Cyrillic alphabet was a piece of cake!. I remembered one of the Russian Profs at Georgetown, John Dick, said he made his students learn that alphabet in a DAY! At the time I was shocked and thought him mad. He was right though; I learned Cyrillic quickly and I was so proud I could read all the signs around me (of course, I had no idea what they meant). At least if someone told me the name of something, I could sound it out in my head using Cyrillic. It may sound strange, but I was simply elated to read again!!

At the Russian border town of Naushki we got off the train to change money. The Russians wanted dollars above all and it was painstakingly slow. One American guy on the train lost it and started berating the people at the bank. We all felt frustrated, yes - but why enter the country as an asshole?

We were officially in Siberia. The "real" Trans-Siberian railway journey had just begun.

The next day the train arrived in Irkutsk, a place I only knew from the game of Risk.

Notes:

Naushki, Irkutsk

After crossing the border at Naushki,  we waited forever to change money. The bank was extremely strict about travelers' checks. I was very happy to have cash.

More to come....

Irkutsk

War Memorial

Epiphany Cathedral

With dire expectations of food in the USSR, the first meal was actually delicious. I fell in love with cream cheese, smetana (kind of yoghurt), and fresh bread. It tasted so European after three years in Asia - I loved it. We woke up to rain - the first I had seen in quite some time.

Irkutsk was muddy. Irkutsk was poor. It felt like we had been propelled back to the 19th century West of the USA. Some beauty was to be found in the city's old, wooden buildings and the churches on the main square, but overall Irkutsk underwhelmed me. The guide from "Intourist" (our Soviet minder, but not really - the woman was a true guide in all sense of the word) explained each building in excessive detail. The poor woman was tasked with rendering muddy, old Irkutsk - home of Siberian exiles with buildings mostly constructed by Poles - into something more than what it was. We saw three old churches on the main square which holds the War Memorial. I wondered how connected Irkutsk had been to the either front of the war. Young soldiers, both male and female, guarded the site seriously. At least the church interiors were beautiful.

In those days, most churches in the USSR were maintained as historic sites. After the town square we stopped at an active one. The interior was less ornate than what we just saw, but it did have splashes of color with gold leaf. Surprisingly, two homeless men stood near the door - I didn't think that existed in the Soviet Union. We drove through town and our guide droned on with too much information. Irkutsk was mostly made of wood, which meant it had burnt down several times. Some of the older, replacement buildings were made of stone (and looked nice). Interspersed amongst all the buildings were rows of Soviet Brutalist apartment buildings. The traditional wooden buildings were mostly dull and left poorly painted except for extremely colorful shutters and flower boxes that "popped" as we passed them by. Those are my strongest memory of Irkutsk - pretty shutters and flower boxes.

Interestingly, because the city is built on former permafrost, it is sinking. Many of the buildings were far below street grade. The effect was odd and I wondered if the newer concrete structures could somehow avoid that fate.

I wished we could have spent more time in the city for photographs, but it was a true whistle-stop tour. We left town and headed for Lake Baikal.

Notes:

May 24 (Irkutsk - Moscow, USSR - Tran-Siberian Railway near Kansk)

We arrived in Irkutsk and were taken to our hotel. It was all so organized after China!

I woke up after a good night's rest to rain. It's not so bad, the first real rain day since the start of this journey. I re-arranged my things and the Onishi's picked me up. We had a great breakfast (the Onishi's did not like it) of cream cheese with yoghurt (smetana), coffee/tea, and wonderful bread.

We started on our city tour (a group of about 20 people) and stopped at a few buildings before heading out to Lake Baikal. The first group of buildings was off the old city square. The square itself is rather dull, although there are a few nice, old buildings. The three churches in the area are now all museums: two were Orthodox and one was Catholic - all built by exiled Poles! Our guide, Tatiana, gave adequate but dull recitations about each place. Although interesting, there was too much historical detail to absorb everything. I was also disappointed not to have more time. Nearby was the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (for Irkutsk) guarded by very young military men (and women!). The frescoes in some of the churches were great!

The tour then stopped at an active church (one of the few). We were permitted to enter and we saw an old nun (all in black) and two homeless men (I was surprised) standing at the door. The inside was very ornate in parts, but overall simple compared to the last churches. We passed by other old buildings and homes - some of the old, wooden ones were striking with colorful shutters and trim. Due to the porous nature of the soil, many of the homes have settled below street level. The city was completely destroyed by fire once and some of the buildings were rebuilt in stone as a result (and done very nicely). The majority of the city, however, is made of wood (with the exception of all the new rows of flats - all in concrete). Finally, we started the long ride to Lake Baikal.

To be continued....

Lake Baikal

Lake Baikal

Church of St Nicholas, Slyudyanka, Lake Baikal

Lake Baikal (still party frozen)

We were driven to the world's deepest lake which was the main draw for anyone visiting Irkutsk. The road was dead straight climbing up and down over the low hills. We passed through the taiga - the native forest of Siberia. At one overlook we saw the Angara River which flows out of the lake and onto the Arctic Ocean. The trees were filled with white pieces of paper tied onto their branches. Apparently, Japanese tourists had started doing that - similar to fortunes received in temples. It looked bizarre to see something so culturally Japanese randomly placed on a hill in Siberia. Finally, we reached the lake and the weather cleared a little.

Baikal is superlative in depth - it holds 20% of the world's fresh, unfrozen water and was created by a massive earthquake that literally split the earth open. The opposite shore held low, snow-capped mountains. In reality, the view from the train the previous day had been better. The lake's situation was unremarkable truth be told, The shore was dotted with villages and many small boats were out on the still ice- clogged lake. Even though Lake Baikal was something of letdown, none of us were that bothered. We were in SIBERIA and in the SOVIET UNION. In 1987 that was off-the-chart edgy.

The best part of the lake visit was stopping in one of the villages to take photos of the wooden houses (with colorful windows) and an old church. The village looked like it should have been in an alpine meadow in Austria. Was I really in China just two days before?

On the way back to Irkutsk, we stopped at a hotel for lunch (much delayed). During the wait I got to know more of my travel mates who would be catching the train later that day with me. As it turned out, the best part of taking the Trans-Siberian was meeting people on the train and along the way.

Our short, stout guide, Tatiana, was of Mongol descent. She explained she was studying English and German at university and upon graduation would be sent to a "remote" school for a few years to teach as the need for teachers in those regions was dire. She asked me about her English and I politely told her it was fine (it really wasn't that bad), but I just wasn't that interested in Russian history. Our conversation with her was filled with the "party line" about life in the Soviet Union. It was clear that she had difficulty keeping up the narrative and I felt sorry. It wasn't our job to make the young woman feel uncomfortable. She surprisingly offered to take us shopping in Irkutsk upon our return.

Off duty, the "real" Tatiana emerged. She promptly told us the value of all our clothes on the black market. She asked us about the selection in the stores (none) and we were honest with her. I felt sad as she related what real life was like in Russia in those days. Socialism meant everyone had enough, but not much more.

In the remaining free time, one of the Kiwi guys on the train, Bert walked with me into town to explore. Unfortunately, it got cut short as we were told we had to be back to the bus which would take us to the train. The bus was on time - the train was late (three hours). In those days, no advanced communication existed in Siberia. The train had a schedule and everyone had to follow it (except for the train itself).

Our guide (and minder) for the ride to the train and wait was Serge. A young, handsome man in a suit, he was also 100% party supporting. We did manage to get him to admit he liked Duran, Duran though. By the time the train came, we were all tired.

We boarded the next train to Moscow. Three days laid ahead to look out the window at the pine forests of Siberia and do whatever it was we were going to do to occupy our time. The real Trans-Siberian journey had begun.

Notes:

May 24 (Irkutsk - Moscow, USSR - Tran-Siberian Railway near Krasnoyarsk)

The road through the taiga (primeval Siberian forest) was very straight going up and down over small hills. We passed many little villages and got occasional views of the Angara River (which empties into the Arctic Ocean). One stop was at an overlook that was sacred to the native people of the region. Now a regular stop on the tourist trail, Japanese visitors started tying pieces of paper and handkerchiefs to the trees like the bad fortunes received in temples and shrines. It looked bizarre in the middle of the Siberian forest.

We arrived at the lake and the weather started to clear. We glimpsed the snowcapped mountains on the opposite shore, but we had actually seen everything more clearly the previous day from the train. The lake itself was scattered with hotels and small villages. There were many boats on the lake, too. The lake itself is a true natural wonder, holding 20% of the world's liquid fresh water. It was created by a huge earthquake that caused a fissure in the earth creating the world's deepest lake. I found it all very interesting, but I had read most of it in the guide book already. The high point of the tour was a stop in a small village in a glen near the lake. The homes were completely made of traditional logs - all wooden. Each house had lovely shutters and beautiful flower boxes. They looked so European - it was hard to believe I left China only 2 days before! I really enjoyed walking there and seeing a "real" village.

After that the tour returned to a hotel for lunch where we had to wait until 3pm to eat. The food was OK. I met a nice German and Belgian there (in addition to hanging out with the Onishi's). One of the best part of the trip, however, is the people!

To be continued...

May 25 (Irkutsk - Moscow, USSR - Tran-Siberian Railway near Tyumen)

Our tour group consisted of all people who had been on the Trans-Mongolian express: the Onishi's, the Kiwis - Phil & Bret, the Norwegian - Ingve, and others. All of us were sociable, but the most interesting thing by far was our guide, Tatiana. She was short and stout and of Mongol heritage - also a student of English and German at the local teacher training college. She was going to finish next month and be sent into a small town to teach for three years. There was a great need for teachers in the "outback". Her memorized speeches were dull, but informative. She asked me later what I thought of her English and I politely told her it was fine - I just wasn't interested in Russian history.

After lunch, we had a long conversation about many things. It was interesting to watch her try to keep up with the party line when she clearly didn't want to. I tried to be ambivalent on many topics in order not to get her upset. She offered to take all of us shopping after the return to Irkutsk. Then the real person came out (after she was off duty). She promptly told us the value of all of our clothes if we wanted to sell any of them. She asked what we thought about the selection in the stores (nil). She gave us some great insights into life in the USSR. Bert (Kiwi) and I took a walk into the downtown area after shopping only to find we had to hurry back to the hotel to catch the bus to the train station. The bus was on time - the train was three hours late.

Our guide was Serge, a nice-looking young guy in a suit and was party all the way (but he did like Duran, Duran - so he couldn't have been all that bad) The train arrived and we felt exhausted. From then on we started the experience that is unique only to those who have ridden the Trans-Siberian Express across Russia.

Crossing Siberia

Trans-Siberian Railway

Once on the train I had new compartment mates: three New Zealanders. In addition to people who stopped in Irkutsk (like the Onishis and the young Kiwis, Bret and Phil), I met two young Russians Valodja and Tanya. They were young, outgoing people who befriended all of us on the train. Unfortunately, our communication was in German - we all soon discovered it was the preferred second language of Russia (at that time). We managed some good conversations, but I wished they had spoken French (or English!).

To our luck (perhaps) our jolly crew of passengers were travelling in the Russian SSR when Gorbachev was trying to cut down on alcoholism. For a brief period, vodka was expensive and hard to find (hard to believe, right?) in Russia. We were recommended to bring as much Chinese vodka as we could and that we did! Well, our Russian compatriots on the train bitterly complained about the horrible taste of Chinese vodka as they greedily consumed those bottles. Our collective stash of vodka scored us better food and generally better service from the Russians working on the train (except our carriage attendant who was dour and serious). We became friendly with the rest of the Russian passengers, too!

The dining car was absolutely dire. It was clean, of course, and the food was actually not bad - there was just very little of it. Like many restaurants of the day, we were shown elaborate menus in the dining car and then told only one option was available, take it or leave it. Little did we know that the train food was better than what awaited us in Moscow. Food in Russia during the days of the Soviet Union cannot be a happy memory for anyone.

We made very long station stops - long enough for regular passengers to detrain and walk into towns and villages to buy food and drink. To my amazement some people regularly rode the train and knew which stops had the best of everything. They encouraged me to come with them on one of their forays but I declined. Missing the train in the middle of Siberia was not a travel tale I wanted to relate in my old age. The shoppers DID find great food in the places we stopped along the way and shared generously (as we were the ones with the vodka!). The trains were very long so when they left a station they crept up to running speed. I think the risk of actually missing the train was low - if one saw the train was leaving, it would be easy in the first few minutes to just run and jump on it. (I saw people do it the entire journey).

Days were largely divided into the following: looking out the window at the endless forests and occasional villages; chatting with fellow passengers; reading; drinking; and recovering from drinking. A bonding experience occurred for all of us - even the Russians. Taking that train was an experience few others could understand.

I got to know my fellow passengers even more. Bret and Phil, the young New Zealanders, were on their way to Europe. They were a lot of fun. Tanya, whom tall, muscular Valodja, followed around like a puppy, were on their way to Moscow for a day to change trains and continue onward. I was never sure if they knew each other from the train or from before. I can't remember Tanya's job, but she was on her way to her hometown in Archangelsk on the Arctic Ocean! Valodja was taking the train south to Sochi where he was a wind-surfing instructor on the Black Sea. Communicating with real Russians my own age was a bonus on the trip. Such a shame that our conversations never left the realm of first-year German.

One thing was true of that time: the average Russian possessed no luxury goods. I was coming from Japan with the latest SONY Walkman. Both of my young Russian friends took turns listening to it in amazement. I actually worried if I would ever get it back - they were that taken with it. Suddenly, all those stories of students from Georgetown who studied in Leningrad selling their jeans and personal possessions didn't seem so fantastical. It was sad, actually. The country was without much food and luxury purchases were nigh impossible. Russian people, however, were unfailingly kind - and fiercely proud to be Russian! Above all, on those days on the Trans-Siberian Railway, I came to like and respect Russian people after growing up filled with Cold War propaganda.

For three days all of us ate and drank together. We indulged in the spoils of each stop as they presented themselves. Friendships were forged, if only temporary. We needed friends - we were going to Moscow!

Notes:

May 26 (Irkutsk - Moscow, USSR - Tran-Siberian Railway near Yaroslavl)

I guess it is best to summarize the people with me on the journey - as that is what made the trip so interesting.

Ingve, the Norwegian. He got bumped up to first class (Car #11) while the rest of us stayed in standard sleepers (Car #10). He brought tons of food that he ended up not needing as there was plenty in the dining car contrary to what we all heard.

Tanya & Valodja, Russians. They were two young Russians who befriended all of us.

Zoe, Frank, and Margaret, the New Zealanders. They were in my car.

Joan and Eva, the Australians. Eva was Lebanese - Australian.

Bret & Phil, the Kiwis.

Geneve & Val, more Australians.

The Onishis, from Japan.

.... and two other Australian couples.

We all got on famously. We shared our food, mixed with the locals, brushed up on German (the preferred second language of the USSR at that time), and drank alcohol provided by various sources.

The days actually passed quickly, but at times they dragged, too. It was important to alternate between talking, reading, watching the scenery, and doing any other activity to give the days some variety. Getting off the train at various stops could be exciting because we were never sure when the train would depart - and it left without warning. When it started moving (very slowly - it was a long train), we all would jump on again.

The second day was perhaps the worst as there was nothing to look forward to. We all had too much to eat and drink that first night (we ate a lot of sweets on the train). The dining car was like a tomb until breakfast - from then on it got crowded. Keeping track of the stations and the local time vs Moscow time got to be a challenge.

Speaking bad German with the Russians was exhausting, but Tanya spoke it fluently and helped me a lot. Volodja is the kindest guy. He is super Russian, very forceful, but he only ever thinks of everyone else's needs, too. I am very impressed with the Soviets that I have met thus far. I think they have been just great (except our carriage attendant who is a real sourpuss to both Russians and non-Russians alike). Tanya & Valodja are eager to hear about our countries and to tell us about Russia as well. It is hard to put into writing the feelings that come out of such interactions. People tend to be great, but governments are not.

Phil and Bret are loads of fun. Phil is very philosophical while Bret is playful. Geneve and Val are both outgoing and nice to talk to. Joan and Eva are more reserved, but still can be fun. I think a definite bond develops among travelers as the experience is a once-in-a-lifetime journey. Imprisoned on a train for four days with little to do, you really learn to get along with others. I look forward to Moscow (and a hot bath).

May 28 (Kosmos Hotel, Moscow, USSR)

The rest of the train ride was filled with anticipation. I talked a lot more with Tanya and Valodja. There was another belligerent, young Russian guy that no one liked who got angry when I laughed about his plans to visit Saskatoon, Canada. He appeared to be totally brain-washed by the system.

Moscow

The first shock on arrival in Moscow was NOT being greeted by Intourist and whisked off to a hotel. In Irkutsk our guide had actually met us at the train station and taken care of everything. I admit, part of me still thought "This is the USSR and they will be keeping an eye on us". Not the case. Intourist in Irkutsk didn't have many customers; perhaps they were better prepared. The guides might have been excited to have something to do? I arrived at Yaroslavsky Station in Moscow to no arranged transport to the hotel. A few of the passengers had booked tours that including transfer and hotel, but I only booked a room. I caught up with an Intourist representative at their office in the station and was given a resounding "nyet" regarding any transfer. In an instant I realized I was in Moscow, without a map, alone, and clueless. So much for the "omnipresent" minders who were going to watch over my every move!! Luckily, friends from the train pointed me to the correct metro line and kind strangers along the way helped out. Somehow I made it to Hotel Cosmos (without a map, mobile phone, or GPS).

Check in was slow - for a moment I thought I was back in China. Finally, I was in the room and had a hot shower - after 4 days on the train I needed one. The hotel was dark and spartan with a matronly Russian women positioned on each floor who made me feel guilty just for walking in the corridor. They were not there because I was a foreigner - hotels in Soviet Russia were set up that way. Those women were to oversee each floor to be sure guests were taken care of, but it felt like they were sent there to be sure we followed every single hotel rule. I returned to the lobby to find Tanya and Valodja waiting. We all went to the Belgrade Hotel to meet the Onishi's and young Kiwis (Bret and Phil) from the train. I felt relieved to follow my young Russian friends rather than try to navigate Moscow on my own.

Upon collecting everyone, we decided to have dinner at Hotel Moscow (very upscale). We rode the metro to Karl Marx Prospekt which has a station deep in the earth. The exit escalators reminded me of Dupont Circle in Washington, DC. We came out right by the Bolshoi Theatre - wow! Tanya negotiated a table for us and soon we sat down to a nice meal. Our Trans-Siberian crew celebrated the successful arrival in Moscow at a "good" restaurant. Compared to the train, the food was excellent. However, it was still the Soviet Union - a food desert. Portions were very small (but accompanied by great Russian champagne). No one complained, however, especially in front of Tanya and Valodja who were very anxious about our wanting to enjoy Moscow. Our Russian friends paid for us (we were all concerned since our group had far more money than them) - they would not take "no" for an answer.

Nearing midnight we walked the short distance to Red Square. For Tanya and Valodja it appeared almost a sacred experience - Russians are deeply patriotic, far more than flag-waving Americans. "Dies ist das Herz meines Landes,"  I still remember how proudly Tanya exclaimed that when we arrived in Red Square. That first visit at night was impressive. St Basil's cathedral all lit up, Lenin's guarded Tomb, and the monolithic wall of the Kremlin looked just as wonderful as I imagined. A defining life moment to be sure - during the Cold War I was walking around Red Square. Few others were out at that hour and wandering the empty square was magical. It looked like a film set.

Moscow evenings are cold in May, but I didn't care. The experience was extraordinary. It provided another window into Russia for me. I am not sure how Americans feel when they stand on the National Mall by the Washington Monument and see the memorials, the White House, and the Capitol, but I don't think it will ever approach the near swoon of my Trans-Siberian friends as they walked around Red Square. America had a long way to go to catch up to Russia even when people thought they felt staunchly patriotic. The resolve of the Russian people and their love of their homeland was a force to be reckoned with.

It was the last I saw my Russian train travel mates. Such a shame that in these days of being too connected instantly with others, I was unable to maintain contact with them. I wonder what they did a few short years later when the USSR was dismantled? I would hope they were survivors who went on to make the most of life in the "new Russia". Again my travels taught me something: being locked into a stalemate with a country of people who loved their motherland and culture so much was not to be underestimated. That visit to the "heart of Russia" (as Tanya put it) remains my best memory of Moscow.

I returned to Hotel Cosmos and slept like the dead. The Trans-Siberian would do that to anyone.

Red Square

I woke the next day ready to see Moscow. Unfortunately, for a person who loves doing background research for travel, I sure dropped the ball on Moscow. Other than Red Square and the Museum of Cosmonautics I didn't have the first clue where to go!

Museum of Cosmonautics

As a kid who grew up making trips to DC to the "new" Air and Space Museum and then continued to visit as an undergrad at Georgetown, the "Cosmos Museum" was almost a joke. A huge section of the museum was a shrine to Yuri Gagarin (justifiably so), but the whole place was cavernous with few exhibits. Once again, I felt sad. Russia had a great space program and that museum was what the general public saw? Soviet Russia felt so impoverished, not only in material things for its citizens but also in things like modern museums (which I took for granted). The Museum of Cosmonautics was a huge letdown. I remember I ran out of film and stooped down to change the roll and was scolded for squatting (??) in the museum (which was empty). Strange thing to remember, but other than the Gagarin exhibit and changing a roll of film, little else remains.

Gagarin Exhibit, Cosmos Museum

The museum stood in the larger setting of the Moscow Exposition Center, which was quite photogenic.

Moscow Exhibition Center

A brush with religion

Matthew 5: 10-12 Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you

I was wandering in Moscow in the drizzle after visiting the Cosmos Museum and came upon a church. The city was gloomy in the rain, but I saw a little light escaping the door; otherwise, it was all dark. I figured I would have a quick peek inside - entry was via the graveyard through a very small door. I hadn't been to a church in Moscow except for St Basils on Red Square (mostly made to be wowed from the OUTSIDE - the inside was actually unremarkable). That afternoon, I entered a PACKED church whose windows had been covered with thick, black curtains. I was awestruck - so Russians were religious after all and it had all gone underground!

A very "wow" life moment that affected me deeply, I saw people with great faith practicing their religion in spite of penalty. I stood quietly by the door and watched the service. The incense, the robes of the priests, and the colorful interior stood in stark contrast to the gloomy exterior. Most of the congregation were old old women, but all ages and sexes were represented. If ever I stood in the presence of God in a church it was then. It made me feel that any religious service I had attended prior to that had been meaningless. I quietly exited - I was an interloper. My perception of many things had just changed tectonically.

The visas and train tickets

Back at the hotel I scored a ticket to attend a performance at the Bolshoi Theatre that evening. I also checked into onward train tickets from Warsaw (no problem, I was told). Chief on my mind, however, was changing my visa for Poland from transit to tourist. I got directions to the Polish Embassy (found with great difficulty) and steeled myself for a struggle.

When traveling in the Eastern Bloc in those days, travelers needed a visa for each country. I had obtained my Mongolian transit visa and Soviet visa in Beijing. In Moscow (since I was in the Eastern Bloc) I got my Polish visa on the spot! That process would have taken weeks in Washington. No one spoke English, French, or German at the embassy, but with a lot of non-verbal communication, I made myself understood. The embassy staff were incredibly helpful and friendly. Interestingly, later in Warsaw, I got my East German visa just as quickly and so on. I simply applied for a visa in the country neighboring my next destination. I look back on that now and think how much the world has changed and how much I have changed. The idea of travelling to one country and "hoping" to get a visa for the next is something I would never dream of doing now!

Polish visa and train tickets sorted - I was going to stay there for five days!

Red Square (again)

I purposely stopped at several metro stations on my way to Red Square just to look. I am not sure any metro in the world has stations as good as Moscow's. Some looked like ballrooms, others like art-filled representations of socialism. I was impressed. Back at Red Square I wandered again (in the daylight) and saw St Basil's and Lenin's Tomb (and the changing of the guard). Also on the square stands the huge GUM Department store (filled with a lot of nothing - mostly shelves stocked with identical products). The building was absolutely beautiful, its design based on the often-copied Italian model Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II from Milan (which I know now as a traveled-adult and didn't realize as a young man on an adventure). I didn't buy anything in GUM (hard currency only) - it was just another place to say I had visited.

St Basil's Church

Changing of the Guard, Lenin's Tomb

G.U.M. Department Store

G.U.M. Department Store (interior)

The Bolshoi

One last "have to do" item remained on the list: the Bolshoi. Cultural tickets were extremely cheap in Soviet Russia and never a truer word was spoken. Since I had dollars, the seats seemed even cheaper. I bought the best ticket possible ($35 - a fortune at that time in Russia). I left early to grab a bite, but found no food except the very expensive hard-currency bar at the nearby Intourist Hotel. I ate minimally and paid through the nose. I arrived to the performance at the appointed time and thought the exterior was plain for a European opera house (to date, I had only been to the Kennedy Center in the USA and modern concert halls in Japan). The Paris Opera House (I had only seen in photos) it was not - at least on the outside. The interior, however, was incredibly lavish and absolutely blew me away. I wondered how the Soviet socialist mentality explained away all the excess that was used to decorate one of the premier performance venues in the country? I made my way to my seat and ..... wow...... I was in a box seat next to the Tsar's center seat (which I believe at the time was never sold, and reserved for VIPs). It remains the best seat I have ever purchased for a live performance in my life. I just sat there thinking, wow, wow, wow. Unfortunately, even though I had come by train, I was dealing with jetlag (trainlag?) and, after all the rushing around Moscow, I was exhausted. Couple that with the opera not being one with which I was familiar (Robin Hood, Dusseldorf Opera) and I found myself dozing on and off. Again, I did not really care. I was in a primo box seat at the Bolshoi!

Side note: after paying too much for a snack before the performance, the Bolshoi had excellent food available in rubles!

Bolshoi Theatre

After the opera I caught up with Val & Geneve from the train. They had befriended a Russian guy, Eugene and were clearly distressed hanging out with him. He appeared sleazy, so I "saved the day" as they invited me back to their hotel. The National Hotel looked better than the Cosmos until they started talking about all their problems. Suddenly, I didn't think the Cosmos was such a bad choice after all. I wished them a happy journey and left. Since the hotel was near Red Square I stopped one more time before taking the metro to my room. I had another very good sleep.

Last day in Moscow

The train to Kiev was overnight. I had one day remaining in the city. I ate the hotel's buffet breakfast with gusto. Who knew when food would be available again in Moscow? That day I planned to visit its main attraction, the Kremlin.  Most unfortunately, due to poor planning and general cluelessness, the Kremlin with its churches and museums were closed that day. It was my last chance - I regretted not visiting the previous day. Lenin's Mausoleum was open but had a huge queue. I also gave it a miss - I wanted to walk around and see things.

I was disappointed I missed the Kremlin (and Lenin), but not crushed. Still on a high that I had made it to Moscow in 1987, I felt that anything else was just icing on the cake! Intourist map in hand, I set off to see other sights in the city. After getting lost on the metro and walking a lot, I found an old church from the map only to find it was a monastery. It was actually a big tourist attraction and was kept up well. It appeared almost "fortress-like" rather than a religious complex. As a bonus, I saw the graves of Tolstoy and Kruschev! And, as the world of travel is always small, I met two women from the train that crossed Mongolia.

Novodavechy Convent

I looked in vain for a place to eat. Russia felt like China - the simple act of eating was difficult. In China it was mostly a language barrier (and lack of food knowledge) coupled with bad service. In Russia, any place "good" required reservations. Smaller eating establishments existed with poor quality food and even worse service. I literally had money in my pocket and could find no decent place to eat!

On the way back to the hotel, I stopped at the nearby Ostankino Palace (museum). It looked large and imposing, representing the days of the "excess of the bourgeoisie". The summer residence of a rich Muscovite family, the palace remains one of the largest wooden buildings in the city. The exhibit was "serf art" so I gave it a pass. In great juxtaposition to the ornate palace and grounds, the monolithic Moscow TV tower stands sternly across the street.

Ostankino Palace

One of the weirdest moments of the day was having a man tail me in an orange Lada. He kept calling out to me. Although unnerving, Moscow was very safe. I was certain he wanted to exchange on the black market. I had a very hard time ditching him.

Back at the hotel, I prepared to leave. I was reading Michener's Poland and wanted to finish it before I left the USSR (being nervous that they might not take kindly to it at immigration in Poland). I spent much of the late afternoon and early evening reading. Later, I managed to get to the train station by metro only to become confused once inside. A young woman came to my rescue who spoke excellent American English. After getting me sorted, I asked her how she learned English and she said, "you are the first American I ever met". Wow - I wished I had more students like her.

Eventually I boarded the train for the overnight to Kiev, a place I only knew in name.

My few days in Moscow were, for a young man in his 20s growing up with Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons and their Cold War, child-influencing propaganda, mind-blowing. Russians were amazing people - incredibly friendly and kind. They lived in a country of contradictions - the place appeared far more impoverished than I had expected yet it was "developed". Even if Russia has had issues with its leaders, its politics, and its place in the world, I still remember my time spent there fondly and extremely illuminating.

Notes:

We arrived to a slight drizzle in Moscow and Intourist caught up the fact I had not booked a hotel transfer. I fudged it and said I had, so I was taken to an office where I got a very stern "nyet" and was taken to a long taxi queue (in the rain). I just hopped on the metro and after being very lost initially, some kind people helped me. I finally found the Hotel Cosmos.

The hotel check-in process took forever, but I eventually was in a room and, more importantly, had a hot shower. I returned to the lobby just in time to meet Tanya and Valodja. We then all proceeded to the Belgrade Hotel to meet Bret and the Onishi's.

We chose Hotel Moscow for dinner so we took the metro. The Prospekt Marx Station is very deep (in fact, many are), just like Dupont Circle in DC. The murals in Kievskaya Station look like a museum! The metro exit brought us in front of the Bolshoi Ballet (very exciting). After some long, suspenseful moments with Tanya negotiating a table, we got in. While we were waiting, I walked down a block to get a glimpse of St Basil's Cathedral. It was at that moment I felt like I was truly in Russia! The dinner was good, but the portions were small. Tanya and Valodja paid (much to everyone's consternation), but they insisted. After dinner and many toasts to everyone's future with some great Russian champagne, we left to see the city at night.

We walked to Red Square which was very exiting for us first-timers (and for Tanya and Valodja, too - they were not Muscovites). For our Russian friends it almost appeared to be a sacred pilgrimage. They displayed such patriotism (not belligerence) which I found extremely moving. Red Square at midnight (in the cold) is impressive. Even though we were all exhausted, we completely enjoyed the experience. That night I slept like the dead in a real bed in a real hotel room.

The next morning it was raining (shit), but on and off, so I trekked out to the Exhibition of Economic Achievements and saw the famous "Cosmos" exhibit on space exploration. Nothing like the Air & Space Museum in DC, but still well-done with a huge section dedicated to Yuri Gagarin. The entire area appeared to be a turn-of-the-century expo in design - I found it pleasant to roam around.

After that, my wanderings took me through a lot of mud and construction until I came upon a small door (I mean small). That door opened into a typical Russian graveyard and led to some steps and another door into a church. I entered. In that "godless" country, the place was packed with worshippers: old women mostly - with a few men and young people. Everyone was huddled together in small nooks attending apparently simultaneous services. The artwork was beautiful (and old). The sound of the chanting, the colorful shawls, the smell of incense... it felt more like a "church" than any place I had ever been. I felt out of place and intrusive, after about 10 minutes I left, but it is a very good memory of Moscow.

I went back to the hotel to ask about train tickets and then I bought some opera tickets for that night at the Bolshoi. I paid only $35, but I had a box seat! Then, after buying train tickets I was off to the Polish Embassy to see about changing my visa. I had a hell of a time finding it, but then when I did, everyone was very helpful. No one there spoke English (or French or German), so I used sign language! I paid $19 and got it! So I AM going to Poland for five days. I am really looking forward to it.

I saw a few more metro stops (a steal for only 5 kopeks) and then returned to Red Square to see St Basil's, Lenin's Tomb and the changing of the guard, and the view along the Moscow River. The GUM Department Store was a trip back to early 20th century England and its great palaces of glass. The architecture was stunning. I returned to the room to put on nice clothes for the Opera.  I saw Robin Hood performed by the Dusseldorf Opera Company. I felt tired and still had some "time lag", but it was the experience of a lifetime. As usual, after coming early to the theatre to eat, I couldn't find any place except the hard currency bar at the Intourist Hotel. I had two pieroshki and a pepsi and paid way too much. Thank God they had food at the Bolshoi later and it was yummy!

After the Opera I met Val & Geneve and a Russian guy, Eugene. The man had befriended them and it appeared they were anxious to part ways - he was very shady. I went back to their hotel and saw their room (National Hotel). It certainly was a lovely place, but they complained that the food and service were awful. In addition, their room was cold. Maybe the Cosmos Hotel wasn't so bad after all? I took some night photos in Red Square and returned to the hotel exhausted. I had another very good night's sleep.

I woke early and ate at the buffet breakfast. Who knows when food will be available again in Moscow?? I leave for Kiev at about 9pm tonight.

May 30 (Kiev to Warsaw, train)

The last day in Moscow was pleasant but.... the Kremlin was closed! I'll have to live without having seen the inside. The line for the Lenin Mausoleum was huge, so I left feeling disappointed. I went to see a church I located on the tourist map at the Intourist Hotel (the only good map in the city and not for sale). I ended up confusing the subway stops and walked about 30 minutes until I found it. I nearly gave up. It turned out to be a monastery. The place was touristy, but still retained some charm. Monasteries in Russia look more like fortresses with churches inside. Some very famous Russians were buried there, including Kruschev and Tolstoy! I ran into two women I met on the train crossing Mongolia - small world!

After that I looked for another church complex and found it, but it was closed and under renovation. I have to admit that Soviets keep after their old buildings - over half the ones I visited were under scaffolding! I really felt tired (and hungry with the "Can't find no food in Moscow" blues) How bizarre to have plenty of money, but no place to eat without a reservation. And, if you do manage to get in somewhere, the service is rotten and slow. In that way, I found Russia not that much better than China (for service). Ironically, in China the best service was generally found in small restaurants.

I felt so tired and hungry, I thought I'd pass out, but I pressed on. I came to the Ostankino Palace near my hotel. It looked very beautiful in contrast to the monolithic Moscow Tower across the street. I didn't enter as the exhibition was of "Serf Art" (no interest). Maybe the most exciting moment of the whole time in Moscow was when a man in an orange Lada tried to pick me up (for black market purposes, I assumed). He would not take "nyet" for an answer! I finally managed to ditch him.

Back at the hotel I ate two pastries and drank a Dr Pepper. I am reading Michener's Poland, trying to finish it before I leave the USSR. I spent the remainder of the day reading until I was ready to get on the train to Kiev. Getting to the station was easy, but I got disoriented once inside. Luckily, I met a young woman who spoke great American English and she gave me directions. She said it was the first time she ever met an American in the USSR. I wondered how she had acquired such good English?!

Kiev

I left Moscow on the night train to Kiev. I had even less information about Kiev than the poorly researched trip to Moscow. Why Kiev? Well, Moscow-Warsaw was a long ride and I was not ready for more train time than one overnight after the Trans-Siberian journey. I could have broken the journey in Minsk, but the place had no mental traction with me. Kiev, Ukraine - I heard about that city at least. I shared the carriage with some mom & dad types and a younger guy. In the morning, I chatted with them and found the young guy knew some English. They all shared food with me (thank God). The generosity of people in the USSR was incredible!

We crossed the Dnieper River and arrived in Kiev. I had to go look for Intourist in the station. They let me know how to get to the Lybid Hotel (not far away). I checked in and crashed. Kiev was overcast, but it was also a dull, gray city. I was put up in another nondescript hotel (of which I have no recollection). I was totally on my own and without even a guidebook. With little info to go on beyond the city tourist map, I explored.

St Andrews Church

I wandered Kiev's tree-lined streets admiring the buildings. I finally found a beautiful blue-hued church sitting on a hill. Atop the somber-toned city, it looked stunning. Ironically, my favorite church ended up being the first I saw, St Andrew's. It was purportedly built on the spot where the apostle Andrew had once traveled and preached about the conversion of a great nation to Christianity. I was more interested in the architecture and color. Its beautiful blue stood out in super-drab Kiev whose buildings still bore scars of World War II. St Andrews was my first baroque church in Europe (built in that style by an Italian architect who had worked in St Petersburg). St Andrews might be one of my strongest memories of the visit. Was it only because it was one of the few "beautiful" buildings in the whole city at the time?

On the return to the hotel, I walked a lovely cobblestone street to another hill that gave a great view over the city (and St. Andrews). Back at the hotel I regrouped and rested. I had come down with a head cold due to all the temperature and weather changes. Kiev held more to see.

St Andrew's

St. Sophia Cathedral

Next stop was St Sophia Cathedral, far older and more significant for Kiev (and the region). The church is OLD. St. Sophia is named after the venerable Aya Sophia of Constantinople. Kiev was the new bastion of Christianity in the region and St Sophia Cathedral was at its center. Russian and Ukrainian relations aside, history supports Ukraine as being the founder of the Slavic Orthodox church. Kiev was the first capital of Kievan Rus (which was to become Russia). St. Sophia historically should still be the seat of the Orthodox church in the region (and for many in Ukraine and Russia it is).

I wandered a sanctuary which felt properly old and authentic. Floor excavations here and there showed it was built on an even older church. Of note were the floor tiles. In St Sophia (and some places I visited in Russia) I noted the floor tiles were made of iron! I wondered if it wore better than stone (which actually does wear significantly over time).

St Sophia Cathedral

Golden Gate

On the way back to the hotel from St. Sophia I enjoyed the "European" ambience of seeing Kiev's opera house. The city was starting for feel more and more "Old World". Highlighted on the map was the famous "Golden Gate", so I stopped for a look.

Since Kiev was modeled on Constantinople (which had a "Golden Gate '' to enter its walled inner precinct), so the Ukrainians of Kievan Rus made the same to enter their city. The original dated to the 11th century but by the Middle Ages it had fallen into disrepair. Not much remained into the modern age, but about the time the Motherland Memorial (which I would visit later) was being constructed, the Golden Gate was also being remade (even though no one had a clue what it looked like). What I excitedly saw as the ancient gateway to the city had only been built a few years before I arrived. I had no idea at the time, so I was extremely impressed. Ah, the innocent world before the internet.

I made a stop at St. Vladmir's Cathedral before returning to the hotel. As it was still in use, I found it less "museum-like" than the other churches I had visited. Ukraine felt more religious than Russia, but only marginally.

Golden Gate

For the second time in the USSR someone followed me. I was certain it was to hit me up for exchange on the black market. In this case, it was a young guy. I did end up talking to him, but since he had zero English and because I was tired (and hungry), we finally parted ways.

I noted that signs were posted in Ukrainian and Russian. I knew the languages were similar (using the same alphabet), but minor differences were clear. Interestingly since the differences did not make the signage in either version unintelligible.

Back at the hotel, ordering lunch was the pinnacle of Soviet dining experiences - the service was unfriendly and the food took forever. Finally, the waitress didn't want to give me change (only 4 kopeks) because she didn't have it. I suspected she was demanding it as a mandatory tip (and tipping was literally forbidden at that time). I had to complain to the manager to get the change. Even if it was supposed to be a tip - why would I give it for such surly service?

Back in the room I noted it had started to rain. I was tired from all the walking that morning (and the overnight train). I read more of Poland - I felt nervous about taking it with me. Additionally, I focused on what I would do for my five days there - I had not given it a lot of thought. Finally, I slept. I was exhausted.

Breakfast was dreadful - even the Cosmos was better in Moscow. I was leaving that evening for Warsaw, so I packed up everything and left my bag with the front desk. My goal was to find the beautiful Marinsky Palace. I walked all over the old town in search of it. Although I enjoyed the old streets, I never saw the palace. I finally gave up and moved on. I was headed to Pechersk Lavra, a famous monastery on a hill above the river.

Motherland Memorial

Near the monastery overlooking the Dnieper River is the "Motherland" statue. In my clueless state in Kiev, I had no idea it had been built just a few years earlier after a lot of political wrangling over what massive monument was actually to be put there. It was apparently almost "Marx Shaking Hands with Lenin"! The statue screamed "Soviet Union" - powerful, proud, and slightly menacing. I walked up to the base to get a fine view over the city and the river. The statue stands in a large park set off from the rest of the city. In the days before even the ubiquitous Lonely Planet guidebooks were popular, travel information was only available from tourist offices and locals. Maybe that's why my impression of Kiev was not so great - I had no idea what to see. At least the Motherland Memorial was obvious, standing huge on a hill looking out over the city. At its base was an "eternal flame" honoring war dead (not working) and a museum exhibiting World War II artillery.

I found the statue overwhelming and a little menacing, but the views from that hilltop were the best. Nearby was the city's most famous monastery, so I walked down to explore.

Motherland Memorial

Pechersk Lavra Monastery

With difficulty I searched for the official entrance to the monastery/church complex. The epicenter of Kiev, of indeed the Russian/Ukrainian Orthodox world, is Pechersk Lavra. Supposedly founded by monks from Mt Athos in Greece, they discovered some caves on a hill above the Dnieper and set up a monastery. Over time it became a huge religious complex and has been historically and spiritually the center of the Russian/Ukrainian Orthodox Church ever since (although the Patriarchate officially moved to Moscow later). Any full understanding of Russian and Ukrainian cultural relations would have to include that monastery. Along with St Sophia Cathedral, it was the epicenter of Slavic Orthodoxy for over a millennium.

Unfortunately, it was heavily damaged during World War II and the restoration was ongoing at the time of my visit. The before and after photos were astounding - the Ukrainians had put a lot of effort into its renewal. The complex sits in a parklike setting near the Motherland Statue enclosing some very ornate churches and buildings. When the sun peeked out, the gold of the domes and frescoes was dazzling. By chance, I discovered catacombs which hold the remains of many Orthodox saints. I walked through finding the experience both interesting and creepy - I could imagine a horror movie being set there. The priests' mummified hands were all visible.

I regretted not having more time to visit (and not understanding the monastery's significance). Nonetheless, I did manage a stop and felt grateful that fate had allowed me to blunder into it. I had to return to the hotel to collect my bags and move on.

Pechersk Lavra

In some extreme irony the bus ride back to the hotel took me in front of Marinsky Palace. I glimpsed other buildings and neighborhoods that looked worth of exploration, too. Oh well, next time....

I made it to the hotel, collected my bags, and returned to the train station. I boarded the right train and found my seat without any problem.

My impressions? Kiev had been heavily damaged in World War II and although repaired, it was not beautifully redone. The monastery was just as drab as the rest of the country seemed to be. Those were the days that the USSR was officially "atheist" and even such an important holy place was a museum, not a religious center. Although there were far more Ukrainians in churches and more of a priestly presence in Kiev than in Moscow. Political edicts aside, the caves and catacombs continued to be highly venerated and visited. Interred within were the early leaders of the Slavic Orthodox Church. I was incredibly wowed (they were the first catacombs and first tombs of important old dead people on display I had experienced). Together with St. Andrews, the catacombs of Pechersk Lavra are my strongest memories of Kiev.

Overall Kiev was a bust for me. It felt a lot more European than Moscow, but it was a city that had been heavily damaged 40 years before and not yet brought back to its former glory. I was not disappointed - it was all part of the adventure.

The night train to Warsaw awaited.

Notes:

Moscow - Kiev (train)

The train ride was fine and I slept early. I shared the compartment with some mom & dad types and a younger guy. When I woke up in the morning, they shared some food with me (thank God) and we talked a bit. As it turned out the young guy knew some English. As I have said previously, I have met so many kind and generous types in the USSR.

We crossed the Dnieper River - we had entered Kiev.

Kiev, Ukraine, USSR

Instead of Intourist finding me at the station, I found them. They explained how I could get to the Hotel Lybid (only one tram stop away). At the hotel, I checked in and went to the room to relax.

(to be continued)

I took a "contac" (medicine) because I caught a head cold due to all the temperature fluctuations. After getting settled into the hotel, I got a map and some directions. I started walking. Kiev is really a lovely place to roam, filled with trees. I walked and walked until I found St. Andrew's Church. Parts were under renovation, but it still looked lovely. Perched on a hill overlooking the river and old city, it is very elegant. A cobble-stone street winds down the hill from St Andrews lined with old buildings. Nearby is another hill that gives a good view of the church and the old city. I relaxed there for a while and then slowly returned to the hotel, stopping at a few places along the way.

The first was St Sophia's church. It is very large and old compared to the relatively newer, more elegant St Andrews. It was nice to wander around the sanctuary that encloses a very "old" atmosphere. Excavations in the floor here and there showed evidence of an even older church in the past. One unusual thing I've noticed in many of the churches I've seen is the iron tile floors! Did they wear better than stone?

On the way back, I saw a lot of construction (new metro lines). Additionally, it appeared an old opera house or concert hall was under renovation. I stopped at the famous "Golden Gate" of Kiev which dates back to the Tartar Invasion (that was OLD). Finally, I saw St Vladmir Cathedral which appeared more "real" as it is still in occasional use.

A young guy followed me all the way to the hotel. I am guessing again someone looking to trade on the black market. Since he spoke no English, the conversation went nowhere. (I was also tired and hungry). I noticed some signs as I walked were written both in Russian and Ukrainian. I thought they used the same alphabet, but there appeared to be some minor differences? Interesting, but I wasn't sure.

Lunch at the Lybid Hotel was the pinnacle of Soviet restaurants at their worst. I waited for everything and the waitress was very unfriendly. She didn't want to give me my change (4 kopeks) because she didn't have it in her pocket at the time. It appeared she thought I owed her a tip - wrong!! I talked to the manager and got my change. Back in the hotel room, I read more of Poland. I wanted to dump the book before Soviet and Polish customs on the border. Then it started to rain, so I just stayed in the room and read. I was planning what I would do in Poland, too. Then I slept - I had walked a LOT!

The next morning I ate breakfast at the hotel - pitiful compared with the Cosmos in Moscow. I packed my bags and left them with the front desk in the lobby. I set off for Marinsky Palace (I thought). I ended up in the old part of the city where I walked around searching the old buildings and streets. Quite pleasant, but I never found the palace. I came across one building that I thought might be the palace, but it appeared far too modest to be considered a "palace". As it turned out, the Marinsky Palace was far from where I was searching - I only ever glimpsed it as I passed by on a bus later in the day.

So I continued walking along the Dnieper River where I caught a tram for the Pechersk Lavra Monastery. The place is huge. I felt sorry I saved it for the end when I didn't have enough time to see it completely. It is spread all over a parklike rise that divides the river from the city. Next to it is a huge war memorial with a Statue of Liberty sized Amazon brandishing a sword and shield looking out over the river. There was an eternal flame (not working?) at the base. It also held a small display of weaponry (from World War II).

Once I finally found the entrance to the monastery it was amazing. Bombed during WWII, the restoration was still underway. The before and after photos were truly amazing. Just the combination of the parklike surrounding and the glistening gold spires made it magical. I, by chance, found the catacombs. There were buried many orthodox saints. You could see some of their mummified hands. It was interesting, bordering on creepy and grotesque. I thought it would make a great setting for a horror movie. The connections between the various buildings were by long, covered hallways. It was all fascinating, but I had to leave!

On the way back to the hotel, the bus passed the Marinsky Palace (in addition to many other places I would have liked to have explored). I wished I had more time (and energy). I arrived at the hotel lobby and grabbed my bags. Getting to the train station, finding my carriage, and seat were all easy. I was on my way to Poland.

June 1987

POLAND

Kiev to Warsaw (train)

The longer days allowed me to catch the Ukrainian countryside before sunset. It was all open fields and empty space. I was nervous about the border crossing into Poland as it would take place late at night. Additionally, the long trip, difficulties in communication, and understanding foreign cultures was starting to weigh on me. Russia had been difficult and I expected Poland might be similar. I missed Hong Kong - the last "easy" place I had traveled. I looked forward to Berlin. Even if my German wasn't great, at least I could communicate basic things.

At the border in Brest, the train gauge changed (that is a long process). Immigration was long, but easy. Figuring out how to turn worthless rubles into equally worthless zloty (at a bad rate) was not straightforward. At the Polish border everything was fast and a breeze - even changing money. Maybe Poland wasn't going to be so bad? As a bonus, there was a two-hour time difference so we actually gained some time which allowed us more sleep after staying up in the early hours at the border.

Warsaw

Another language moment!

Upon arrival at Warszawa Wschodnia Station I had a delicious treat, the Latin alphabet - finally!!! The sheer elation of not having to plod through Cyrillic in a language I didn't understand was indescribable. Now I could "read" everything clearly in Polish. Even if I didn't have a clue what it meant, it was just one step less baffling.

I found the coin lockers in the station and my bag did not fit. Since that was usually the case, I wasn't too disturbed to pay more for "storage" - especially since dollars were changing at a fantastic rate to zloty. The weather was cold and overcast (it was June!).

Poland also meant I had escaped the long arm of "Intourist" and was free to get my own accommodation. Poland's version of Intourist, ORBIS, was closed on a Sunday, so I located the youth hostel. Unfortunately, I was told to return at 5pm to get a room. I had a lot of time to kill, so I set out to explore

Old City Square

Old Market Square, Warsaw. 1945 (Wikipedia)

I walked some distance from the train station to visit the old town square. The place had been the center of Warsaw since the 14th century although the current structures are reconstructions from photos and lithographs of how it appeared pre-World War II. Note the photo of how the square appeared in 1945 shortly after the end of World War II. The Germans had literally raised the square in their retreat. The Poles, in a testament to their pride and tenacity, rebuilt the square brick by brick to its former 17th century glory. No, it was not original, but it looked beautiful. The Rynek Starego Miasta was my first European market square and at the time I thought it was the most incredible public space I had ever seen. I felt so full of pride for the Polish people and their love of country, capital, and history. Warsaw Old Town Square was my real introduction to Europe after only getting hints and fleeting tastes of it in Moscow and Kiev. Finally, I was in the Europe of my imagination.

As it was Sunday, the square was literally deserted. Even in the cold overcast weather, I loved walking around. I thought a lot about Korea, also sandwiched between two larger powers, frequently overrun and destroyed. I wandered the old part of town and found the former palace. It was also reconstructed. Although I didn't enter, I was impressed by its size and architecture.

Old Royal Palace

I was getting hungry, so I popped into a "milk bar" for a proper breakfast. Unlike the USSR, Poland had food - lots of it. And, with the exchange rate, everything was incredibly cheap. One could go into a restaurant and actually order from a menu. Maybe not ALL the items were available, but there was a choice! What a change from the past couple of weeks! The table service was amazing, too. Poles were all incredibly pro-American and almost everyone I met had relatives in the States. I was rapidly falling in love with the country as I wandered (and ate) around Warsaw.

In Poland (the book), I had read about the city, Zamość. The place intrigued me due to its unique architecture, so I walked back to the train station to see about a ticket. Unfortunately, it was too far out of the way to include on my general westbound itinerary. I settled on Krakow and booked a ticket for the following day. If Poland had blown me away with food choices, it was doing the opposite with ordering train tickets. What I thought would be straightforward became a frustrating ordeal of long waits and poor communication (although the clerks were polite) to buy a train ticket.

My walk took me by many churches (on Sunday) and they were bursting with people. Religion in Russia was behind closed doors, and in Ukraine it was more open, but still subdued. The Poles were openly religious and took it seriously. Apparently the Soviet message of atheism had not gained any traction in Poland. I also walked through the University of Warsaw by chance and found a statue to Copernicus, one of my favorite scientists.

Copernicus, Warsaw University

Lazienski Palace

Lazienski Palace

A sad, but famous building in Warsaw is the Soviet-built Palace of Arts and Science. Although huge and out of place, it was also oddly photo-worthy. If the Germans had decided to destroy Polish cities by blowing them up, the Russians wanted to do the same by building ghastly structures. With time on my hands before reporting back to the hostel, I went in search of Lazienski Park and its Palace on the Isle. It featured prominently in Poland and even at the time of my visit was one of the major tourist spots of the city.

The palace is not huge, but it impressed me. Again, it was reduced to a shell by the Germans (such the waste) during the war. Both interior and exterior were carefully reconstructed from photos and people's memory. Some of the fireplace statuary was fascinating. Why would anyone need a fireplace with such bold ornamentation? On the park grounds I killed more time seeing an exhibit on a Polish big game hunter and his "trophies". Sadly, some of the animals on display were endangered.

I returned to the youth hostel and with to spare, so I stopped by a cafe for more cake and coffee. I was completely in food heaven after months of deprivation! At 5pm I returned to the hostel to find it filled with screaming kids. I waited patiently and felt sorry for the woman working reception. I finally gave up and left again (exhausted). I found a room agency that hooked me up using the analog version of Air BnB - someone renting a room in their house for extra income. I was put up with an old guy and his family - the room was clean and quiet - that was all I needed. I retrieved my bag from the station, stowed it, and left again. Back in the old town I enjoyed an excellent dinner of roast duck in a beautiful restaurant. The food and service were heavenly. I didn't realize how much I had missed good food over the past months.

That evening I slept like the dead. The following morning needed an early start to catch the train to Krakow. In a once-in-a-lifetime event: the streetcar actually derailed. I switched to a bus and nervously hoped it would stop at the station (it did). I experienced the by-then-familiar panic of finding the right train and carriage in a place with no English signage, but I managed.

I was on the way to Krakow - supposedly the jewel of Poland historically and architecturally.

Warsaw retrospective: Overall, the stopover in Warsaw was good. I liked the people and the city. Truthfully, Warsaw of that time was dull and gray like Kiev, but it had vibrancy, too. The Poles were not letting themselves become downtrodden. Everyone whom I met was kind. I found it easy to get around and was on my own to do everything - the Polish government didn't particularly care where I slept. Still headed toward Berlin, my route west took the long way via southern Poland.

Notes:

Kiev to Warsaw (train)

I am riding with a mother and daughter (I think). They don't speak English at all. We will pass through immigration and customs at midnight (ugh). The views riding across the countryside of Ukraine are lovely - many wide-open fields and a lot of empty space. Tomorrow, I will arrive in Warsaw, another language and culture to react to. I am starting to feel burnt out on all the travel. The last "easy" travel I had was in Hong Kong. I can't wait for Germany - even if my German stinks. At least it will be familiar. Russian (and maybe Polish) has been the worst challenge for me so far in Europe.

June 2 (Krakow - Oswiecim, Poland, train)

The border crossing had its moments. I wasn't very sure where and how to change back my rubles, but I managed. Brest Station is huge and we had to wait for immigration and the gauge change for the train. It was nearly 3am when it all finished. At least Poland is 2 hours behind USSR, so we gained time and were able to catch some sleep. Polish immigration was a breeze! I literally just changed my money and not much more.

Warsaw, Poland

Upon arrival in Warsaw, I searched out the coin lockers only to find my bag wouldn't fit (as usual), so I had to put it in storage. That was more expensive, but considering my dollars were changing at an incredible rate, I really couldn't complain about the price. Warsaw was cold and overcast. I went to the Youth Hostel and they told me to come back after 5pm. ORBIS (the venerable state travel agency) was closed on a Sunday! I walked and walked until I thought I would drop.

I arrived in the Old Town which has been reconstructed since the war. It is truly beautiful. It has the old cobblestone streets and a market square that I have long thought of as "the Old World". Finally, I felt like I was in Europe. The restoration is ongoing, and each place is exquisitely done. It struck me that the Poles have a lot in common with the Koreans - constantly being overrun from both east and west. However, like the Koreans, the Poles are fiercely proud and show the love of country in their cultural artifacts. As it was Sunday morning, the Old Town was practically deserted. Despite the cold, it was great to walk the streets alone.

I stopped by a few churches, but Sunday Mass was going on to standing room only crowds. It felt completely different from churches in the USSR - more young people and a freer atmosphere, yet still full of intensity. While what remains of religion feels thick and heavy in the USSR, in Poland it is serious, with a lighter touch.

For breakfast I stopped at a "milk bar" (a kind of cafeteria) and had great food! After not knowing where and when I would eat again in the USSR, in Poland food is everywhere (and ridiculously cheap - almost on par with China). I walked some more and then ducked into a small cafe for tea and cake. It was quite nice. Then I headed back to the station. I had hoped to travel to Zamość, but it is just too far out of the way, so I settled for Krakow the following day. Buying that ticket was an experience of its own: a long wait in line, confusion, broken German, and finally a ticket. At least the ticket clerks were more patient with me than in China.

With the afternoon in front of me, I decided to go to Lazienski Park to see the palace. The park itself is lovely and although the palace isn't huge, it certainly was beautiful. The Poles did another excellent job of restoration considering all that was left was a shell after the Germans purposely tried to obliterate it - such a waste. I particularly found some of the statuary around the fireplaces compelling. With more time to kill, I saw an exhibit on a Big Game Hunter in Warsaw who had killed and brought back various animals from all over the world. Although some of the animals were endangered, the collection was impressive with some animals in their entirety (or just their heads).

I went back to the Youth Hostel, but it was still too early so I had some more good cake in a cafe nearby. When I finally got into the hostel, it was filled with kids. I waited with those screaming devils for about an hour. The woman working there seemed particularly harassed - so I just left (again). I felt dead from walking and just wanted to relax. I finally located "Syrena", an agency that finds travelers private rooms. I got a room with an old man and his family. He wanted me to pay in dollars and I told him I only had Zloty. The room was very nice and clean. I went back to the train station and got my bags. Then I went to the old town to have an excellent meal of roast duck in a beautiful restaurant. The food was excellent and the waitress super kind. I ended up sharing the table with two young Poles who were a riot.

I returned to the room and slept like the dead.

Unfortunately, I needed to wake early to catch my train the next day. The streetcar line I had to take had a derailment (first time I had ever seen that), so I had to take a bus and pray it was the right one (it was). The train left late anyway... After the usual panic about which train on which platform, I got to the right track and the correct carriage.

Krakow

Upon arrival I immediately set out to find a room and, due to the early hour, no place was open. In the town square I found a place serving the most delicious bread topped with mushrooms and cheese. Poland was like food paradise! When everything opened, the place for private rooms had nothing in the city center, so I went the hotel route and shared a room with a garrulous and LOUD Canadian guy, Jerry.

Jerry reminded me of a New York Jew - outspoken, aggressive, and exceedingly friendly. After "quiet" Japan, Jerry was a kind of culture shock. Luckily, his warm personality won the day and I found he had a wealth of information on many other Eastern European countries I planned to visit! Jerry changed money on the black market - I was too nervous and he teased me for being too careful: "everyone does it" (which actually was true). The normal exchange rate was already good, but dollars exchanged on the black market made Poland literally "free".

Jerry and I spent the day in Krakow and I was glad. He had done so much research and even if he took me to a lot of Jewish historical sites, I didn't mind. I was tired of figuring stuff out on my own.

If Warsaw had been my introduction to what wonders the Old Country held, then Krakow set the bar for the rest of the continent. Even these days, Krakow remains an undiscovered gem of Eastern Europe. Initially, I was disappointed because it lacked some of the "recreated charm" of Warsaw's old town, but then I realized the buildings were mostly original. Wow! By luck of history it avoided wartime destruction and had an intact medieval core that was original. Jerry and I hit all the highlights (with constant narration from Jerry).

Krakow holds an incredible old market square along with its Cloth Hall, from the days when guilds controlled the city commerce. That building even then was given over to tourism, but I still liked it. We explored the old castle and ramparts where we found an art market. The colorful paintings stood out boldly against the old stone walls. From the city's oldest and tallest church (lovely inside and out), a lone trumpeter plays a bugle call on the hour and stops abruptly. The reason is lost to urban legend - some say it dates to a throat-piercing arrow during the invasion of the Tartars and other say it commemorates a trumpeter who died while playing 100 years earlier. Whatever the case, it is unique to the city. We explored one of Europe's oldest universities, Jagellonian (1364) - wow! The cultural heart of Poland, Krakow was amazing on a level I thought not possible. I felt like Moscow and Kiev teased me with a few interesting places, and Warsaw had a couple of gems set within its largely gray, postwar-reconstruction. Krakow, however, was an original city like something out of a fairytale. I loved every minute exploring. Krakow had more food choices than Warsaw. Jerry and I wanted to eat somewhere upscale for lunch, but were not dressed well enough. We settled for a milk bar (which was still heaven for me) and ordered the mushroom/cheesy bread things. I could have eaten them for days on end! We would try a nicer place in the evening.

Jerry's non-stop talking and volume got on my nerves, but I did like him. He led me to the old Jewish Quarter. For me, it looked more authentic than the official "old town" we had just seen. We stopped at a museum (actually an old synagogue) which was closed until we paid the caretaker $1 to open it for us. Jerry wouldn't take "no" for an answer! I wasn't much into the exhibits (as I am not Jewish), but it all provided an interesting window into the Jewish community of Poland pre-Holocaust.

I stopped by the railway station to get information on tickets to Berlin. As usual, it was confusing and complicated. Apparently, I had the choice of taking a faster train with a connection or a slower train without. I would have to give it more thought. I had held out some hope for an East German tourist visa, but in the end had to settle for only a transit one. East Germany was even more tightly controlled than the USSR and I didn't have the energy to deal with that kind of system again (after the relative freedom of Poland). At the station I met a young Swede who was headed to Oswiecim the following day (I was too) and I told him that I found a good hotel room downtown. Jerry was only staying for one night.

Meeting Jerry reminded me that I was lonely and tired of trying to figure everything out on my own. Being alone wasn't bad if things all worked and were straightforward. Traveling with a friend if things are frustrating is tolerable because there is another person to help. Traveling alone through a series of frustrating countries was NOT easy. Meeting Jerry showed me that I needed companionship on occasion to recharge my batteries.

That evening Jerry and I dressed nicely and ate in town. It was, of course, amazing. Jerry left the next day to continue across Eastern Europe in search of his roots. I was happy we met. Jerry gave me a lot of confidence to keep going.

Old City Gate

Cloth Hall

Wawel Castle

I had wandered the streets of Krakow in awe of everything. To this day it remains one of the most beautiful old city centers I ever visited. When people go on and on about Prague (a city that is superlative) , I always do an internal eye roll and think of Krakow. It was only much later that I visited a place giving a similar feeling, Edinburgh. I am surprised that Krakow hasn't yet become a filmmaker's darling. It may yet come.

Interesting side note:  Krakow was occupied by the Germans during World War II and earmarked to be a new provincial capital. The Germans started calling it a "lost German city" (lucky the Poles had maintained it for centuries for them??). At the close of the war, the Red Army's swift advance was attributed to Krakow's being saved from destruction. That was partially true. The Germans were being routed all over Poland. However, it turns out that other than looting the city of precious artwork, there had never been a plan to destroy Krakow to the degree that other Polish cities had suffered. Yes, the Red Army did liberate Krakow, but they did not save it from destruction because the Germans just didn't see any benefit to destroying it (thank God!)

Notes:

Krakow, Poland

Once in the city, I located an agency for getting private rooms, but they told me to return in an hour. I walked into the town square and found ORBIS (with a line halfway down the street) and ALMA TUR (not as busy). I had limited time, so I found a great breakfast - melted cheese and mushrooms on French bread! Back at the private room place I couldn't get a room downtown, so I went the hotel route and stayed at the Dom Turysty where I shared a room with a Jewish-Canadian guy, Jerry.

Jerry was very friendly, but spoke quite loud and reminded me of a typical New York Jew (outspoken and aggressively friendly). After "quiet" Japan, meeting people like Jerry was a culture shock. Jerry had a wealth of information on Hungary and other Eastern European countries. He was changing money on the Black Market - I was too afraid to attempt that.

We spent the day in Krakow together and that made for a fascinating experience

(to be continued)

June 2 (Oswiecim - Krakow, Poland, train)

I must admit, at first, Krakow felt disappointing. In fact, Old Warsaw looks "older" even though it was recently rebuilt. Krakow doesn't have many cobblestone streets left, but the buildings are original and beautiful. We visited lots of old buildings and soon they all muddled together in my mind. The largest church was extremely beautiful inside - there were tons of lesser churches, too. The old "Cloth Hall" - an old mercantile building - in the center of town is too touristy, but still beautiful. The trumpet call on the hour from the large church belfry is really quite nice. The university, Jagellonian, is a great place to stomp around, but it was difficult to enter the buildings. The old castle and other fortifications are fascinating - on one of the old city walls was a display of many different street artists. It looked so colorful against the drab, gray background. We walked and talked a lot (well, Jerry talked - he is quite good at that).

For lunch we had more of those pizza-bread things. We were hoping to find a semi-elegant place for dinner. We tried one place, but we weren't dressed properly, so we settled for another milk bar. Wow, Jerry can really put it away! He started to get on my nerves near the end, but still I liked him a lot. I found the old Jewish quarter to look more like what I expected of "old Krakow" than the old city center itself! We visited a museum (an old synagogue) which was dull for me, but for Jerry interesting. We paid $1 to the caretaker to open it for us as it was officially closed.

Then I went to the train station to check on the trains to Berlin from Krakow. I might take the direct train, but it all depends on time, money, and visas (as usual). I hope to get that settled today. I enjoyed walking the streets of Krakow with Jerry a lot. I didn't realize that I had started to feel a little lonely with all the solo travel. Or perhaps it wasn't loneliness as much as frustration handling everything on my own. Jerry truly gave me a lot of good travel advice - I learned a lot from him.

I met another young, American guy from Sweden on the way to Oswiecim in the station. He might even end up being my roommate later? Who knows?

Auschwitz

The next morning I woke up and took the train to toward Katowice and got off at little known "Oswiecim". Its residents must be so happy that people only know it by its German name, unlike Dachau, a suburb of Munich.

In high school when I learned about the Holocaust I read and researched it extensively. We never studied it in History - I found out about via the British TV series "The World at War". The topic fascinated me: I didn't get hating any group of people that much. I credit my parents with setting aside many of their own prejudices and raising me not to look down on anyone's race or religion. Hence, the idea that the Germans so hated a group of people whom they had been living with for centuries to the point that they wanted to exterminate them confounded me. I got on the train toward Katowice. It was an appropriately cloudy day - such a visit called for somber weather. I remember getting off the train and having a slew of taxi drivers calling out "Auschwitz, Auschwitz. I can take you to Auschwitz" (in English). I was appalled actually. In the days before GPS I had no choice, I got in a cab and was driven to the "museum". Few people were around. I was given a pamphlet (which I still own) and took the self-guided tour of the place. The worst parts of the camp were destroyed before the Germans retreated in a poor attempt to cover up the evidence. What was left when the camp was liberated were the remaining prisoners and their barracks. Even a lot of those have fallen into ruin and some of the current barracks are reconstructions. Anyone expecting to find the place in all its fully functioning gruesomeness would be disappointed. However, two big, emotional tourist spots exist - one obvious, one less so. Standing in front of the main entrance gate with its famous "Arbeit macht frei" sign was an iconic moment of the trip. I knew about it, everyone did - it was verification that it really did exist. However, another not-so-famous place hit me hard. I wandered to the railway gates where the tracks split off into countless sidings like one would find in a factory that received all its raw materials by rail. In front of that was the "real" entrance to Auschwitz. On those railway sidings the "selections" took place of who would live or die. A split second decision that affected over a million people. Of the 1.3 million people sent to Auschwitz, 1.1 million were murdered. The scale was staggering. In the place I stood over a million people were "selected" for death. That was overwhelming, profoundly sad, and disturbing. Having seen the film Sophie's Choice (and read the book) the place of the "selections" was what I wanted to see in Auschwitz. I felt despair - hopelessness.

Side note: after visiting Auschwitz I never again visited any memorial or museum to human cruelty. I closed that chapter of my life: the curiosity of how and why such things could happen. I finally understood we all had to struggle against such hatred and I no longer needed to see proof of it.

Main Gate (road)

Selection site and main gate (rail)

Back at Krakow Station I found the train to Berlin had only a second-class seats (12 hours - 4 of which were in immigration at the border!) The ticket agent promised to keep looking for a sleeper for me (I even paid for one), so I crossed my fingers. I stood in the incorrect line to buy a ticket to Lancut for the following day. After a very long wait, I discovered I was in the wrong queue. When I finally got to the correct window, it took me only three minutes. Poland was only slightly less frustrating than China for railway tickets (with friendlier staff).

I had returned to Krakow gutted. I needed to be happy and good food could do that. I went out for a nice dinner.  I ate at an upscale restaurant on the old town square where the food and drink were delicious and cheap  (I relented and changed dollars on the black market instantly becoming insanely cash-laden). It was the same place Jerry and I had eaten and left a robust tip; the wait staff all nearly stumbled over each other leading me to a table. It was like a scene from the Three Stooges.  I left the waiters 100% tip. I wasn't showing off - they were nice to me and I had to use the money somehow.

Back in the hotel I found my new roommate, a Polish truck driver, Mr Staczek. If food was readily available in Poland, beer strangely was not. He had bought a six-pack of beer which we shared. In fact, the beer was from Germany since he frequently made road trips there. Our communication was very difficult, but we managed. It was one of many such kindnesses I received while in Poland. A return trip to the country (with some advanced planning to avoid the hotel and transport hassles) would be great. I hadn't considered returning any place since I left Hong Kong!

I woke the next morning and headed to Łańcut, a place I only knew from a book.

Notes:

June 3 (Lancut to Krakow, Poland, train)

Auschwitz/Birkenau, Poland

[I had no journal entry, and left the page intentionally blank]

There were many hassles in getting my Berlin ticket and finally I could only book a second class seat. Well, it could have been worse (no ticket at all). It is a 12-hour ride of which 6pm to midnight is riding on the train and then four hours of immigration and customs (I guess) arriving in East Berlin early the next morning. I hope I survive.

Poland is actually fine but getting tickets reminds me of China except the clerks are 300 times more friendly. Last night, a guy stayed in the room, a Polish truck driver, Mr. Staczek. He was a young, super-friendly guy with whom I shared a few beers and we tried our best to make some conversation. He was so kind, I really didn't care if we understood each other or not. With more planning, in the future I would love a return trip to Poland. The things I don't like are buying train tickets and finding hotel rooms - those could be easily avoided through advanced planning. Last night I waited forever to get a ticket to Lancut only to find I was standing in the wrong queue. When I finally found the place for an unreserved seat, it took me 3 minutes!

Łańcut

Łańcut Castle

My travel reading selection was Michener's Poland which I finished just before arriving in Warsaw. I became a Michener fan in the Japan years and when I settled on the big adventure to return home via Europe (including Eastern Europe), Poland was on my radar. Then I realized Michener had written a book on the country. Given Michener's penchant for detail, it might be the country I was most ever prepared to visit (historical knowledge). I really did know a lot before I set foot there which might be another reason that I loved the time spent there.

After paying for one more night at the hotel, I arrived at the station to find the train was delayed. Finally, a train pulled into the station and I boarded. I wasn't sure if it was the delayed train or the next one. I stood for most of the journey (even with a first class ticket). Nonetheless, the passing countryside was lovely - very rural, passing village after village with onion-domed churches. The tracks cut through huge fields of yellow stretching to the horizon - just gorgeous.

Michener was clear about what parts of the book were fiction. Hence, there actually was a family, Lubomirski, that figured prominently in Polish history. (the builders of Lazienski Palace in Warsaw). The family Lubomirski's home turf was Łańcut, about an hour out of Krakow by train. Michener's tome often referred to the Lubomirski Palace and since it was not listed as a fictional place, I assumed it existed.

Finally, I arrived at Łańcut Station and asked people about its most famous residence. I got a lot of blank stares and then started to worry that I had made a huge mistake. Palace, palais, castle, chateau, schloss - nothing worked. Then I said "museum". Aha! That was the ticket! Suddenly everyone nodded and pointed me in the right direction. Not all that far from the train station was the Lubomirksi family residence. In the middle of southern Poland I stumbled across an imposing chateau!

I bought a ticket and took the tour. It was not very opulent - given Poland's post-war history, not surprising. What the retreating Germans didn't destroy they looted. I am certain the Lubomirski residence was stripped bare, so I wasn't sure if what I was seeing was restored to the original or "the best that could be done" at that point. Since it was not over-the-top as many similar places are (France, Italy), I found it realistically livable. There was also an impressive carriage house next to the big house and the palace gardens were lovely. The former servants quarters had actually been converted into a hotel. I was not overly "wowed" by the building, but I was impressed with Michener's research and accuracy. He had spoken about this place a lot in the novel and here I was walking around it. That impressed me. I think it might have been one of the few times I sought out an actual place from a literary work (repeated years later in England with Dickens). A geek moment, I guess, but I was so satisfied to have toured the grand old house even if it was not all that grand. Now flush with EU cash and blessed with a good economy, I wonder if Poland has renovated the place back to its former glory.

In the end, I only had about two hours to visit - but, as with many rushed visits, I was grateful even to have seen it. I had to return to Krakow - there were no more trains that day.

Notes:

I woke up and paid for another night at the hotel (the clerk only spoke French) and then went to ORBIS to find the bad news about my train ticket (still no sleeper). Then I ran to the train station to find I had missed the express train to Lancut, but then another came and I wasn't sure if it was the late arrival of the original train or different one. With trains in Poland, I never knew what was going on. For the ride I ended up standing (sometimes sitting) in First Class and it was a little long, but I survived. Sometimes the scenery with the new green (or vibrant yellow - what was that?) in the fields dotted with farms and villages and the occasional church spire made it delightful. Perhaps some people would say the scenery of Poland is drab, but for me it was wonderful.

Lancut, Poland

In Lancut, after some inquiries out of the station I found the "museum" which was the old Lubomirska Palace. I don't think it was damaged in the war at all. The palace was lavish, but not super opulent as some such European places (like the French). It actually appeared quite livable. There was a hotel inside (in part of the servants' quarters). The building appeared just as the book Poland had described it. It was an amazing experience to travel to an historical place after reading about it! The visit was so much more meaningful. The people of Lancut were all very friendly, helping to give directions and point me the right way. I only had about two hours there before I had to catch the return train to Krakow.

Killing time in Krakow

The morning of the trip to Łańcut, the train station informed me that there were no sleepers on the Berlin train. I had paid for a sleeper, so I was refunded the money in zlotys. I already had too many and I wasn't sure they could be converted at the border. How strange it felt to be traveling with limited cash only to have too much of it suddenly. The train returning to Krakow was slow - I could only think about dinner that evening (if the train wasn't delayed). Luckily, I made it and treated myself to yet another lavish dinner at my favorite restaurant!

Hotel check-out was 10am and I was booked on a night train. I had a full day in the city - no complaints really. I loved Krakow - I could have stayed in Poland a lot longer. Had it not been for my short visa, I would have. I took a tour to a salt mine outside of the city. It was all in Polish, but it really didn't matter. I liked the little town that was host to the mine, too. I increasingly felt the need to return to Poland one day.

I had a great lunch coupled with some ice cream on the square listening to a band play traditional Polish folk tunes. The location and experience were what my mind had always fantasized Europe would be. However, I was still not in the "West". I was excited for Berlin. At a minimum, I would be able to read the signs again!

Notes:

I have no idea what I'll do tomorrow; the train isn't until evening and the hotel check-out is 10am. It will depend on the weather (and my mood). I am still feeling angry that I had to change more money to get my Berlin ticket, but now I cannot get any refund in dollars for the price difference between sleeper (couchette) and seat. I received the Zlotys back, but if I can't change them at the border, who needs them? I might not be able to spend all my cash now. I hope the slow train from Lancut gets me back to town in time for something to eat!

June 4 ( Cafe Alvorada, Old City Square, Krakow, Poland)

Today is my great departure for the "West". I can't wait to go, but in a way, sitting here on a lovely June day in the square of the old city at an outdoor cafe having delicious ice cream with a band playing is for me what "Europe" was supposed to be like all the time! I have 1500 zlotys to use before the border (and there is no dining car on the train). I just ate a very delicious chicken cordon blue type dish for lunch. Now I can hold off on food until I arrive in Berlin. I have to say again I could really get into a return trip to Poland.

The salt mine south of the city was an interesting tour (in Polish) where I saw the old network of tunnels and a subterranean chapel. The tour felt too long, but I didn't understand anything either. The little town above the salt mine was also quite pleasant. I didn't stay long there, but it looked like it had possibilities for a return visit one day.

KRAKOW TO BERLIN (train)

After boarding the train that evening, I realized that my worry about not getting a sleeper had been overblown. I ended up with the compartment mostly to myself. I was joined later by a husband and wife, but there was still ample space. The seat reclined - I could rest until the border.

It poured, so there was little point looking out the window after departure. In the early morning, the train crossed the Oder river arriving in Frankfurt an der Oder, East Germany where all the immigration checks would take place. The Poles went through the train and then the Germans. Meanwhile, sunrise over the misty Oder looked lovely. Germany appeared immediately different from Poland - more built up, more urban. As the morning fog cleared and we chugged toward Berlin, the countryside looked the most like Pennsylvania that I had seen thus far. Germany looked a lot like America!

DIVIDED BERLIN, GERMANY

I had picked up my DDR (German Democratic Republic) transit visa in Warsaw. The only realistic option was a transit unfortunately as East Germany was one of the most difficult countries to visit in the Eastern Bloc even as the others started to open up. I dreamed of going to Dresden or Leipzig, but alas, the best I could do easily was travel to East Berlin and cross into West Berlin.

a border like no other

I arrived in Berlin in the morning - entry into the DDR had been friendly and easy. In fact, I hadn't really been "stamped in" - the guards on the train just verified my visa. The train stopped in the Ostbanhof first and almost everyone got off. The conductor told me to stay on the train. I followed orders. After about 10 minutes we stopped again at Friedrichstraße and I detrained. I looked for East German immigration and actually had to exit the station to pass through. In my mind I was entering the DDR, but in fact I was exiting. Only a handful of people had got off with me on that empty, rarely used platform. I was nervous. I was sure there had been a mistake. The immigration officer pointed to an ominous, revolving, barred turnstile like those the New York City subway system used to prevent "jumpers" from fare evasion. I was dubious. I barely made it through with my backpack. One guard calmly watched me struggle to the other side. I climbed a set of stairs to another empty platform. Honestly, I was sure something had to be wrong. I was standing alone on a totally disused train platform. Suddenly, a local train rattled along and stopped. It felt like a science fiction film. I got on nervously - I didn't have a ticket. Where was immigration for West Germany? What the hell was going on? The train passed over the Spree River and I saw the hulking shell of the Reichstag off in the distance - I was certainly in Berlin. Everyone on the train looked normal - no one paid any attention to me at all, in fact. What had happened? Where was I? After a few minutes, the train stopped at the Berlin Zoo Station (which used to be a major transport hub in divided Berlin) where I got off and entered a vast, modern station lobby: no immigration, no checks. After three years I had re-entered, or more accurately "blundered" into, the West.

Sidenote: in crazy, divided Berlin, the Friedrichstrasse station was in East Berlin but was a transport node for the subway and commuter trains of West Berlin. West Berliners passed through the East often, but the reverse was not true.

West Berlin

last language moment

In my final language moment, I could read everything! My German was not great, but it was enough to travel and suddenly I could read all the signs around me. I can't even describe the feeling. I just stood there amazed. I went to find someone "official" and asked if there was something I was supposed to do, but they only looked at me confusedly. It remains one of the most bizarre border crossings of my life!

My head swimming in the busy Zoo station, I came back to my senses and realized I needed to do the usual - change money and find a place to sleep. I found a non-busy corner out of people's way and squatted down to consult "Let's Go Europe", the guide used by all Americans in those years. As I tried to figure out what was going on, two young Americans came to ask me for help. I almost laughed out loud. I was going through my own personal shock of re-entering the West only to have two even more clueless, innocent people come to ask advice. I shared my book with them and told them about my first choice of places to stay. Then I had to get on with my own agenda.

The bank in the station wasn't open, so I killed time waiting with some other travelers. In those days before the Euro, changing money in Europe was a "thing" and a huge hassle. When I finally got my marks, I found the exchange rate terrible. It hit me then and there: I could not afford to stay in West Berlin very long at all.

I set off to find a hotel. The first place was a bust, but at least the staff were helpful and friendly. They pointed me to another option. I felt tired and worried that Western Europe would bust my budget quickly. In another "I am sick of travel" moment, I contemplated paying for a nice hotel and then flying home directly from Berlin. The place recommended by the first hotel had a room, and whom did I meet but the young couple from the Zoo Train Station (John and Paige)! Travel truly can be a small world.

They asked me about going to East Berlin and I told them if they could wait a bit, I was planning on visiting myself. No sooner had I entered West Berlin than I was exiting again! After all, I needed a visa and tickets to Prague and they were far easier to obtain in the East.

East Berlin

Checkpoint Charlie, West Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany.

Checkpoint Charlie 

I showered and changed clothes. We made our way to that famous border crossing, Checkpoint Charlie, that we all knew from films. I was astounded at the price of public transport in Berlin compared to the countries I had just traversed. As it turned out, the checkpoint was actually just a customs and immigration portal between the two halves of Germany. The "wall" extended in both directions, colorfully painted on the West German side with both whimsical and serious graffiti. The entry to the DDR was NOT menacing - but it was busy. In fact, on the west side, it was mostly crowded with tourists "peering into" East Germany! We discovered we only needed to walk straight ahead...

Even though I had just exited the Eastern Bloc, I wanted to see more of Berlin since the old city center and most of the most important monuments were in the East. And, of course, there was the visa issue for Czechoslovakia. John and Paige were nervous and all pumped up about going "behind the Iron Curtain". I kept telling them I had just spent a few weeks in the East and it was not really all that different, although a tad depressing. They paid my descriptions no mind. Thus, with new friends who had different goals and points of view than my own I went back through the Iron Curtain.

The crossing felt tense - akin to what I had experienced moving from Mongolia to the USSR. The checkpoint was in the center of the city, too - that felt weird as all other immigration points I had passed through were "remote". It took time to get through and we were obliged to change 25 DM into 25 "Ostmarks". The East Germans must have made a killing on all the hard currency that was exchanged there.

Unter den Linden

Opera House

Neptune Fountain and Berlin Cathedral

Friedrichstrasse was under total renovation as we walked toward Unter den Linden dodging construction. I had a great first impression of Berlin's famous "tree-lined with old buildings" avenue. It looked far better than I expected. In one direction we saw the outline of the Brandenburg Gate and in the other, East Berlin's signature landmark, the TV tower. Our first goal was the heart of Berlin, Alexanderplatz. On the way, we passed the State Opera House and the lovely Lustgarten fronting the cathedral. All of us were impressed. On arrival at Alexanderplatz, we realized we were starving!

Alexanderplatz

Rotes Rathhaus

Since it was noon, all the cafes where we could sit down to eat were packed. We ended up eating bratwurst from a street vendor. My initial impression of the former city center was one of desolation more than vibrancy. After lunch, I left John and Paige to their own adventure and set off to get a Czech visa.

I found the Czech tourist office (Cedok) closed and once again questioned what I was doing. Should I just head across expensive West Germany and France and fly home? I decided to give it one last chance and by luck found the Czech Embassy where I was issued a four-day visa on the spot! (I had made it inside just before closing). Back on the main square I located the Reisebüro der DDR, the state travel agency. I bought onward tickets to Prague from a long queue reminiscent of my experiences in Poland. In the end, though, I was successful. I had a visa and train ticket. I could go to Prague! Finally, I continued my tour of East Berlin.

The whole area of Karl Marx Platz, Alexanderplatz, the TV tower, the Neptune Fountain, and the old City Hall (Rotes Rathaus) was so.... gray. After the chaos of West Berlin packed with people shopping and going about their daily lives, the center of East Berlin appeared to be part of a zombie movie. Yes, there were people but they lacked any kind of vibrancy. Near the old City Hall was a bombed-out church with a photo exhibition of Berlin before and after the war. It was extremely moving. The city was gearing up for its 750th anniversary apparently. We saw the hulking shell of an old synagogue, destroyed on Kristalnacht. The Tomb of the Unknown soldier was downright scary as the soldiers not only guarded it but also stared down visitors. I needed to move on. Time was short and I was keen on seeing Berlin's museums.

Museum Island

Alte Nationalgalerie

Pergamon Museum

The next stop was Museum Island to see its world-class museums (especially the Ishtar Gate in the Pergamon). The collection of Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and Islamic art was the best I had ever seen. I felt the entire Smithsonian collection held nothing by comparison. As it was late in the day, time was limited and the collections were vast in both the Bode and Pergamon - some of the galleries were already closed. The Ishtar Gate did not disappoint and was displayed nicely. In the Bode was an exhibit of art from the Kremlin. I felt a little redeemed having missed visiting the Kremlin in Moscow. Toward the end, I was literally running from exhibit to exhibit. Museum Island requires an entire day - not a few hours. (I did end up seeing the Pergamon again in a united Berlin years later more slowly and was not disappointed).

After exiting, the weather turned rainy. Already dinner time, I looked for a place to eat only to find everything crowded again. It seemed that eating a real meal in East Berlin was not in the cards. Luckily, East Berlin was filled with cafes. I stopped at a couple of cafes for coffee and cakes. Delicious German cakes were available in abundance and cost a pittance - even in the swankiest Old World cafes along lovely tree-lined Unter den Linden. I could only drink so much coffee and eat so many desserts with my overabundance of Ostmarks though. The other thing East Berlin was famous for was books. I found some great bookstores and, indeed, books were incredibly cheap. They were all in German, so I guessed whoever was spreading the word "buy books in East Berlin" must have forgotten that detail. Full of cake and coffee, I moved along.

Brandenburg Gate

Brandenburg Gate

Reichstag

I walked to the Brandenburg Gate and looked at it from the "other" side - as well as the back of the Reichstag. I was staring at tourists who were looking into "Communist Germany" and thought how ironic it was that they were mostly seeing day-trippers from West Berlin peering back. The Berlin wall (passing right next to the gate) and the shell of the Reichstag lay in a strip of no-man's land which made a greater impression on me than Checkpoint Charlie.

l had plenty of Ostmarks to spare and I'm not quite sure what I did with them in the end. I think most tourists bought "stuff" just to say they bought it in East Berlin. It felt like having currency leftover in an airport and going to different duty free shops trying to use it up - except that the shops had absolutely nothing anyone wanted to buy!

Soon I was back at Checkpoint Charlie. The crossing took time - not due to crowds, just the number of confusing steps in the process. I befriended a couple of Canadian women during the long wait. The guards asked if I was taking any ostmarks into the Federal Republic of Germany. I wanted to laugh out loud - who would? They were worthless outside of the DDR. The border was needlessly tense - perhaps that was the intention. In a "Back to the Future" moment - I stepped again into the chaos of lively West Berlin.

My travel mates, John and Paige, had returned to West Berlin with a tale of adventure for people back in the USA without a doubt. As for me, I tasted some nice pastry on Unter den Linden where I tried hard to imagine Berlin of a different age; I saw the famed Ishtar Gate at the Pergamon Museum; and I visited Alexanderplatz, the heart of old Berlin. People had not exaggerated - East Berlin was depressing. Warsaw and Krakow were much livelier - I felt happy for my visit to Poland. West and East Berlin for me were like Hong Kong and Guangzhou, only placed directly next to each other. East Berlin met the hype of being gray and dull, but it also held the lion's share of historical sites in the city.

I walked back to the hotel with the Canadians as they were staying nearby. We reflected on and shared experiences of our day-trip into East Berlin. Most importantly for me, I had onward tickets and a visa for Czechoslovakia. I thought I should return to Berlin one day with more time (and money). That night I slept like the dead - a lot had happened in the previous 24 hours.

I still had to see West Berlin, if I could afford it!

West Berlin (again)

Ku'damm

Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church

In an attempt to lighten my load, I once again sent a box of things home from the road. After that, I started to explore the western half of the city. Kurfürstendamm was the place to go in West Berlin. Even in the reunified city it still retains its title as the Fifth Avenue of Berlin. Ku'damm was also where all the cheap lodgings were located, so upon arrival in Berlin I had made my way there to find a bed. It was strange to go back hostels after being in hotels or private rooms, but as a young person, I also loved the company. As Tony Wheeler, the guy who started Lonely Planet, often said, the "travelers' grapevine" was always the best and most current source of information. I tried Berlin's famous Berliner Weisse beer. Not one to turn my nose up at most things alcoholic at that age, it got a huge thumbs down from me. A lot of people were going on and on about it at the hostel and all I could think was - they were told by their Let's Go Europe guidebooks they should like it and they did. Sour beer - eww.

Ku'damm was amazing to me on so many levels. All the people, familiarity with things Western, being in Germany - I felt happy and relaxed after the weeks of travel from Beijing (actually Hong Kong). While most of the travelers I met were thrilled to be doing something as "edgy" as visiting West Berlin, I was simply grateful to be in the West again. The amount of goods in shops after China and then the socialist East was staggering to me - my feeling bordered on revulsion at times.

The Kaiser Wilhelm church stands in defiant ruin to remind everyone of the horror of war even amidst the bounty of rich, capitalistic West Berlin. At that age, I found it an effective monument, like the Atomic Dome in Hiroshima - a reminder of what awaited if things were left to unravel. However, it paled in comparison to what I had seen in the eastern half of the city where buildings stood that had barely been patched together since the war. Kaiser Wilhelm church was too sanitized - maybe that's what people needed to move on?

Ultimately, the western half of the city was leafy, green and residential (as it always had been). It felt alive and looked beautiful. People were friendly, too. If it had not been so expensive, a longer stay might have been fun.

Reichstag/Brandenburg Gate

Brandenburg Gate

Reichstag

I traveled to the ruined Reichstag and viewed it from the outside. An outdoor concert was being set up for that evening. The burnt out old building stood as a monument to failed democracy and the horror of war far more than the Kaiser Wilhelm church for me. The chords of the bands doing mic tests floated strangely over the scene. That experience was the essence of Berlin in those days - a bunch of disconnected and unrelated things jumbled into one city and then cut in half. Just beyond was the Brandenburg Gate, a total no-go zone since the wall ran right through it. I walked to the viewpoint and stared at the day trippers on the other side just as I had been stared at the day before. The year was 1987 - everything was on the cusp of change. No one suspected how quickly things would happen in just a couple of years.

The Reichstag and Brandenburg gate are near the huge Berlin Zoo Park. The place is an urban oasis in the city. I found it superior to most similar places in the US and a million times better than anything I had seen in Japan. Nearby was the Siegessäule, a victory column from the Franco-Prussian War. It looked strangely restored considering the burnt-out Reichstag was just a short distance away.

I came away from the visit feeling sad - Berlin had been a great city and was now a Twilight Zone episode. Even its grandest avenue had been cut in half with the border passing through a monument built by its leader (Friedrich II) that started the country on its long spiral into aggression ending in two disastrous wars.

Charlottenburg

Charlottenburg Palace

One palace that ended up in West Berlin was Charlottenburg. Schloss Charlottenburg and the nearby Egyptian Museum were two of the West's absolute highlights. I took the metro from the zoo, exited, and walked up the grand, tree-lined avenue leading to one of Berlin's most beautiful former residences. Wow! For being a "minor" palace in Europe it looked amazing. On either side of the avenue were museums, but I only had eyes for the Egyptian one. The original Neues Museum which held one of the world's premier Egyptian artifact collections outside of Egypt had been damaged heavily in the war and the collection, like the rest of Berlin, was divided up at the end of the war. The bits that ended up in West Berlin included the famous Nefertiti bust. That smallish museum impressed me. Although Museum Island in East Berlin got most of the collection, the way things were displayed in the small Egyptian Museum in Charlottenburg grabbed my attention. I thought the Smithsonian could benefit from similar exhibits (at that time the Smithsonian was very dry in its approach). Each piece looked perfect and was accompanied by descriptions in German, French, and English.

Note: the famous Egyptian collection is now reunified in the fabulously renovated Neues Museum. I visited years later on a return visit.

What impressed me more, however, was Charlottenburg Palace. It was my first truly grand European palace - I was dumbfounded. I had seen lovely palaces in Poland but the scale and detail of Charlottenburg was something different entirely. Unfortunately, due to my low supply of marks, I had to give the interior a miss. Luckily, the gardens behind the palace were amazing in their own right. I thought to myself, "this is why I came to Europe". The place was ticking every single box of how I expected Europe to look. Then in a surprisingly strange twist, something truly amazing happened.

While relaxing in the grass of the gardens, I met Suzanne. She asked to borrow my Let's Go book, but I guessed she mainly wanted to talk. Later, her friend Mark joined us. It was a lovely June day and we were lying on the grass of the palace garden taking everything in when suddenly classical music started playing. It appeared to be some musicians practicing for an upcoming concert. I said to Suzanne and Mark, "the gardens, the palace, that music - we just need a bunch of people in period dress to come out and start waltzing" AND THEN THAT HAPPENED! We all looked on in disbelief for a few moments. Finally, we understood a movie (or TV show) was being shot. It felt like we had been transported into another age. It might be my best memory of West Berlin.

We decided to grab a bite to eat and settled on Greek food (the cheapest thing in Germany at that time - along with Turkish). Suzanne and Mark were Canadian - Suzanne was extremely outspoken while Mark seemed along for the ride. Suzanne spoke as if she had been traveling for ages when in fact they had only arrived in Germany the week before. We did have a good time together, though. Wanting some beers after dinner, we asked where was a good place. We ended up at a bar by the Wall at Schlesisches Tor - a famous district for student/cheap bars in the city. It made for an enjoyable last night in Berlin.

Our parting was short and sweet on the S-bahn - we were getting off at different stops. I returned to the hotel. I was leaving the following morning for Prague and needed a good night's sleep. I couldn't afford Berlin in spite of liking my stay there. I felt frustrated but was already looking forward to the next destination.

Back to the East

In the morning after breakfast, I took the train to the huge Zoo Station. There I spent my last marks on McDonalds and then boarded another train to Friedrichstrasse. I left early as it was Sunday and I didn't want to get delayed with the border crossing - I had no idea how long it would take. In fact, it did take a long time, but I still arrived at Lichtenburg Station (in East Berlin) two hours early. The free time allowed to me to catch up with journaling.

By chance I ran into some Japanese people at both McDonald's and the East/West border crossing. I could still speak Japanese, but I hadn't since traveling with the Onishi's in the USSR. I was amazed how quickly my language skills had deteriorated!

Finally, I was on my way to Prague hoping it wouldn't be a hassle (and would be cheaper)

Notes:

June 7 (Gästehaus, West Berlin)

Krakow, Poland - Berlin, East Germany

After all the worry about not getting a sleeper on the train to Berlin, I had a second class compartment all to myself! The other passengers on the train seemed friendly and soon we chugged off. The scenery was more of the same. It rained heavily so there wasn't even much point looking out the window. The seat was not good to sleep on, but at least it reclined. The seat opposite me was later alternately occupied by a husband and wife who took turns sleeping there. The rails headed northwest to Kunowice to the border. The train crossed the Oder River very early in the morning and arrived in Frankfurt an der Oder. We then waited for the Poles to finish their inspection of the train followed by the Germans. The sunrise in and around the Oder River in the morning mist was lovely. Germany immediately appeared different from Poland - more houses, more "cozy", and far more urbanized. We traveled through some fog and occasionally broke out of it to reveal a countryside that looked very East Coast of the US. Poland's countryside was similar but it was vast with few houses. Germany really hit it on the nose - it looked like America.

East Berlin - West Berlin, divided Germany, train

Entry into the DDR was friendly. The exit into West Berlin was easy, just confusing. I had no problem finding the Friedrichstrasse Station, but then I couldn't locate the passport control. I exited the station and located it. I couldn't find the "entrance" and then I realized I was "exiting" East Germany. Again, I breezed through but could not find the right train to the the Berlin Zoo Station. It was totally bizarre that the Friedrichstrasse Station is still a major transfer station for West Berlin between the U & S Bahn, but it is located in East Berlin. I finally found the platform and I was propelled across "the Wall" and into one of my first real culture shocks - West Berlin.

(to be continued)

West Berlin, Germany

June 7 (Lichtenburg Station, East Berlin, Germany)

After the initial shock of standing in a huge, modern stain station again, I realized I needed to find a bank, information on the city, and a room. I was pondering the info in Let's Go: Europe,  squatting on the station floor, when two young, "milk-commercial" type Americans came and asked me for help. There I was totally bewildered in the "West" and they were asking me (of all people)! Anyway, I found the information in the book they needed (and where I would likely head later) and they left. I had the feeling I might see them again....

The bank wasn't open, so I waited outside with two young Danes. The Danes I had met on the trip were very friendly and outgoing types. I wished I had enough money (and time) to travel to Denmark. We talked and killed time until the bank opened. I changed money at a terrible rate and realized then and there I could only stay in Berlin for a super short time. At the exchange rate I got, I couldn't afford West Germany for a long time.

I took the subway to the first place I hoped to find a room and it was booked solid. Apparently, there was some athletic event in West Berlin. They suggested another place, pointed me in the right direction, and were refreshingly friendly. At that point I was ready to check into a nice hotel and use my remaining money to fly home. Anyway, the next place did have a room and who did I meet but John and Paige (whom I met at the Zoo Station on arrival). They asked me about travel to East Berlin and I told them if they could wait, I would be going there myself soon.

I showered, changed clothes, and felt at least 30% better. Then, we struck off for Checkpoint Charlie. Another shock in West Berlin was price of public transport. Compared to the East it was astronomical. We arrived at the famous checkpoint to discover it is really a customs and immigration portal right in the center of the city. It looked so bizarre and the Wall (colorful on the west side) extended in both directions from that entry point. Some of the art on the wall was "meaningful" and others just plain graffiti. We hesitated before entering because most people were actually only coming close and peering inside the "East, not doing the crossing. We discovered we only need to walk straight ahead, so that's what we did.

East Berlin, Germany Democratic Republic

I had to admit that the border crossing was 100 times more tense than any other I experienced until that point with the exception of Mongolia/USSR. Friedrichstrasse was in a state of total reconstruction, so we made our way into the city with much difficulty. My first impression of East Berlin was construction scaffolding. Finally, after a few glimpses of old churches here and there, we arrived at the city's most famous boulevard, Under den Linden. The street is lovely with many old buildings lining it. In one direction, through the trees the Brandenburg Gate is visible and in the other, city's former "downtown".

We passed the venerable Humboldt University (where Hegel and other famous academics had studied). The Opera House, museums, the cathedral - they all astounded us as we walked toward the huge (and famous) TV tower. We had arrived at the two huge plazas of Marx-Engels and Alexander. And... we were starving.

All of the places to eat were filled (it was noon) so we settled for a cheap "bratwurst mit brot" on the square. I left the happy couple on a detour to get a visa and train tickets to Prague. I found the official Czech tourism office, Cedok, and it was closed! At that point, I was ready to throw in the towel and just continue the journey into Germany and then France, in spite of the expense. Luckily, I decided to have another go at the embassy itself and I just made it inside before it closed. I got my visa very quickly and simply! I only got a four-day visa, I figured it would be enough. The people in the embassy were super friendly, too. Back at Alexanderplatz I went to the Reisebüro der DDR to buy my train ticket. As was the case in Poland, there was a line, but one hour later.... I had my ticket! Finally, I could carry on with sightseeing in East Berlin.

Alexanderplatz was large and desolate. What a contrast to Unter den Linden, but it was full of restaurants and outdoor cafes (and people). It was lively at least. I walked to a church behind the Rathaus that had been destroyed in the war. Set amongst its ruins was a photo gallery of Berlin (then and now). The exhibit was very interesting (and free). A lot was being prepared for the 750th anniversary of Berlin. Berlin had so much more to see: St Mary's Church on the square, the Rathaus, the TV tower, the burnt out synagogue of Kristalnacht when the Nazis destroyed all things Jewish, the cathedral. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was creepy because the soldiers actually "guard" the place and stare down visitors. However, for me what made the visit incredible was the museums.

The Bode and the Pergamon Museums with their collections of Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and Islamic artifacts was beyond comprehension. They hold one of the finest museum collections I had ever seen. The equivalent in the Smithsonian pales in comparison. Unfortunately, it was late in the day and time was waning. I found myself running to see as much as I could - some of the rooms were already starting to close. Those museums alone were worth the trip into East Berlin. As a bonus, in the Bode Museum there was an exhibit of art from the Kremlin. Since I had not been able to visit, I was thrilled to see at least some of its collection. It figures that later it started to rain and then I couldn't find an uncrowded restaurant as it was already dinner time. I just didn't eat.

I still had a LOT of "Ostmarks" so I strolled down Unter den Linden sampling tea & cake, eating my way west. I walked to the Brandenburg Gate and saw the Wall running behind it. For me, that was far more moving that Checkpoint Charlie. I was looking across at the tourists there looking back at me. They were thinking "That's the Communist World" yet 90% of the people they saw were capitalist day-trippers from West Berlin!

Leaving East Germany took a long time - not due to crowds, but just each step required waiting. While waiting at one gate, I was taken to another (I had followed the signs correctly). Two Canadian women and I went through the process together. Passport check and customs were fast, but the wait was long! The customs check question "do you have any money from the DDR?" seemed stupid - the rules stated that small amounts could be removed (and no one was trying to take worthless Ostmarks into West Berlin). The wait for the passport check was especially delayed because some guy in front of us had a problem. The process was fraught with unspecified tension...

Then, "Back to the Future", and we were in West Berlin.

West Berlin (again)

We walked together as they were staying near my hotel in the youth hostel. We talked a lot - it was pleasant. I slept like the dead that night. My final impression of East Berlin was that it has more for the tourist than the western part of the city as there is more of interest. The place is not completely under the pall of communism (with all gray buildings). It is lively in its own way, and it is old compared to West Berlin. It felt like Hong Kong and Guangzhou had they been placed side by side. I had an extremely good (but exhausting) day. I think I'd like to return one day

(to be continued)

June 9 (Prague Castle, Czechoslovakia)

Most of the morning of my free day in West Berlin was spent getting information and mailing things home. After getting lost, searching for packaging and such, I had lunch at McDonalds. I felt tired but I was ready to see what West Berlin had to offer. I started with the Kaiser Wilhelm Church which stands in contrast to the modern city. It is an almost too well done reminder of the city's past. I found it too much after much more subtle (and moving) reminders in East Berlin.

As for glitz, West Berlin has it all - shopping malls in abundance. To those returning from long sojourns in socialist lands, it must be a shock. The abundance borders on disgusting. After that shock (and it was a big one because West Berlin really represents the "West" in so many ways), I noticed that the city was very green with many trees and parks - quite livable. The people are friendly and it is bustling..

My next adventure was to visit the old Reichstag where a rock concert was just getting started. Considering the concert will go long into the night, I wondered how the East Germans felt about that music blasting. The concert actually detracted from the mood of the visit, but then again all of Berlin (both sides) feels quite surreal: a huge park, the burnt out Reichstag, the Wall running right behind it, and blaring rock music. I skipped the Reichstag Museum and went straight to the Brandenburg Gate with lots of tourists peering into the "Socialist World" as if they were viewing people with the plague. For me, I only feel sadness for the people of Berlin. Their grandest avenue is divided in two.

The Tiergarten (Zoo) is a great place for hanging out. Parts of Berlin are superior to many US cities and about a million times better than anything in Japan. I saw the Siegessäule, a gilt column dedicated to the Franco-Prussian War. I returned to the zoo to catch the metro to Schloss Charlottenburg (with some difficulty locating it out of the station). A grand avenue leads to the castle, lined with trees. At the end, visitors can see a sumptuous royal residence, like something from the era of Louis XIV in France. On either side of the avenue are museums, one of which is the Berlin Egyptian Museum. While East Berlin's museums humbled me due to their magnitude, the small Egyptian Museum in the West was very tastefully done. I thought some US museums could benefit in copying their displays. Each piece was perfectly placed and in each room there was a book describing the artifacts in German, French, and English.

The castle itself is immense and ornate, but as I was forever counting my remaining marks, I passed on the admission fee and contented myself to look around the gardens (huge and lovely). I walked around and relaxed by one of the pools there. Just as I was preparing to leave, a small concert started. It looked to be a group of students practicing. It was very enjoyable - classical music on the lawn of a baroque castle. I met Suzanne there who asked to look at my Let's Go book, but she actually just wanted to talk. She was Canadian, quite outspoken, and extremely nice. We talked for a very long time and then she introduced me to her friend Mark who she was traveling with. He was super quiet - exactly the opposite of her. We all went out for some great Greek food later.

We asked around for a place to get a beer and ended up at a bar near the Wall in the neighborhood, Schlesisches Tor. We talked a lot more (mostly Suzanne). She wanted me to think she had traveled a lot when she actually had only been in Germany for a week. We had a sudden farewell on a crowded S-bahn and then I returned to the hotel to leave "comfortable, but oh-so-expensive" Berlin.

I woke early, had breakfast, and headed to the Zoo Station. I still had my 24 hour public transit pass so it was valid to travel to Friedrichstrasse Station. At the Zoo Station I spent my last marks on a McDonald's burger and again headed east. I went very early as it was a Sunday and I didn't want to get caught in a line at the border. As it turned out, the crossing took time, but not that much. I ended up at Lichtenburg Station two hours early. Mostly I caught up with this journal as I had fallen behind.

Since I left the Onishi's in Moscow, I had not met any other Japanese. However, at the Zoo McDonald's I ran into a family and then another group at the East/West passport control. I can still speak Japanese, but wow - it requires an effort. It is true that language deteriorates quickly without use.

[continued in Round the World I: Berlin to Athens (3)]