A Whistle Stop Tour of Kazan

While I took little to no interest in the football world cup, I cannot deny that its recent presence in Russia has been of significant advantage to me with a clear and present effort to make each of the host cities welcoming to non-russian speaking visitors. In Kazan this was apparent in the pop up tourist information tents around the old city and the handy “Nightlife of Kazan” booklets at my hostel. The latter were particularly good, suggesting sights to see and various eateries in addition to live music venues and a few vouchers.

Qolşärif Mosque

With only a day to explore the city and having caught up on my sleep with an early night, I got and early start, wandering up Bauman Street to the Kazan Kremlin. Coming to see the beautiful Qolşärif Mosque was my main reason for stopping in Kazan and having caught a glimpse of it from the taxi the day prior, I was buzzing with anticipation as I wound through the old buildings of the Kremlin to see it. The cyan roofs stretching toward the sky atop glistening white towers did not fail to impress and stole my breath as I craned my head back to admire them.

Qolşärif Mosque

By comparison and given the lack of English signage (the World Cup accessibility boost fell short at translations in museums) the rest of the Kazan Kremlin paled. This is not to say it was not good, the view over the Reka Kazanka was spectacular and the domes of the Annunciation Cathedral were suitably elegant, it is just that the Qolşärif Mosque is the type of building whose elegance and architecture are so magnificent that it takes several days for the memory to fade and before most other buildings can compare.

Annunciation Cathedral

Having finished my exploration of the Kazan Kremlin and resisted the urge to get a horse and cart ride around the city, I found myself heading to the Soviet Life Museum. This turned out to be a bit disappointing as all the English was outside and once one got into the museum there were hardly any Russian descriptions and no English ones. Overall the Museum also had the air of a jumble sale from forty or fifty years ago rather than that of a museum.

View of the Reka Kazanka from the Kazan Kremlin.

Unfortunately, with the departure time of my train to Moscow drawing closer, I had to finishing my sightseeing of Kazan at this point and grab dinner before walking to the train station. This final leg of my Trans Siberian journey-I shall not count my commuter train to St Petersburg-was the shortest, and does not merit its own post as very little can be said about sleeping soundly on a train for eight hours. The train itself was very smart and new. Indeed both third class carriages I have stayed in have been rather nice and a whole lot better than I had been led to believe. That or as a student backbacker, I just have very low standards and am easy to please.

The Soviet Life Museum

Trans Siberian Leg 3 – Irkutsk to Kazan

View from the train

I struggle to keep my eyes open as I slouch in the waiting area. While it isn’t so late as to be early, days of travelling and rising early have convinced my circadian rhythm that anything much beyond 10 o’clock is unacceptable so that as we begin to board at 11:40, I am hard pressed not to full asleep standing up. This did have its advantages because, as we finally crept from the station, I was able to quickly fall asleep and not get jerked awake by the train.

Third Class

My first day on the train passed quietly and I was finally able to finish my book. This was both good and bad because on the one hand plot progression and story arc conclusion but on the other hand I now have to wait for the next book to come out, which will undoubtedly be in a few years time. Since then I have been working my way through the first few books of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series which, while different from the writing styles to which I normally isolate myself, has so far proved itself to be an enjoyable read. The only real disturbances to this blissful peace and quiet was the videos the small boy opposite me was watching and a very odd Chinese lady who was almost continuously leaning across me to charge or check her phone.

One of the longer platform breaks

The second day trickled through the sand timer of life in much the same way as the first. I was awoken at six thirty and then again at seven by the Chinese lady kneeling on the edge of my bed and leaning over me to plug her 77% charged phone in and later check on it. I also had a small audience eating my lunch as everyone wanted to know what the mayo was and we spent five minutes trying to explain it to the Chinese woman. After that, the young lass in the bunk above mine seemed to pick up the courage (with some encouragement from Mum) to practice her English with me and I spent a large slice of the afternoon trying to remember what sort of vocabulary secondary school languages teach and asking relevant questions such as “what is your favourite subject” and “do you have any hobbies”. This was pretty fun and with Google Translate murdering our respective languages, we just about manage to cover any vocabulary holes.

The covetted charger that was right next to me and which I did not need to use once.

The third and final day of this leg crawled by as it always does when one is anxious about not missing their stop. A large contributor to this was also that the clock kept going back an hour until we eventually reached Moscow time, three extra hours in total. As well as chatting to a few of my fellow passengers, I had a portrait drawn by a gentleman at one end of the carriage. Considering I struggled to write smoothly on the train, I was most pleased with the finished piece. Although, baring in mind I barely recognise myself these days, especially without glasses, I have no idea if it actually looks like me.

Several stations had old steam engines on display which quickly became children’s climbing frames when we disembarked.

Arriving in Kazan, I bit the bullet and agreed to the ridiculously overpriced taxi, deciding one and a half hours walking was too far even for me. I suspect the extortionate rate was further compounded by leftover football fever from the World Cup since Kazan did host one of the stadiums.

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