Illustrations - Midnight in Siberia: A Train Journey into the Heart of Russia - page 178

Lenin, pointing toward the train station in Vladivostok on a snowy evening.
Russian train platforms are full of energy, chaos, and confusion, overwhelming the senses. The smell of cigarette smoke
blends with the smell of coal and occasionally the smell of sweat from passengers who haven't showered for days.
Everyone is in a hurry, dragging suitcases over the concrete. There's a nonstop stream of announcements blaring from
speakers, occasionally clearly enough to understand. (David Gilkey/NPR)
In the dining car I often go with beer and pistachio nuts. They are reliably available, unlike most else. Menus will have
dozens of offerings—seafood, meat dishes, soups—but the required ingredients are often not on board. The television
doesn't appear to have worked for a decade. And even though we're several time zones east of Moscow, the clock is set
to Moscow time, a quirk of Russian trains that was designed to avoid confusion but seems just to fuel it. (David Gilkey/
NPR)