The JaYmes Escape

What was your favourite country?
I’ve been asked this question repeatedly over the last three weeks and I hate it, because it’s so hard to answer. I tend to try to split it up – the place I have the most vivid memories of is Cambodia, every day there was an incredibly intense experience. The nicest people were in Laos, most other travellers I’ve met seem to agree on that too. If I could go and live anywhere I wanted I think I might choose Japan. Russia was fascinating and I’d like to go back and see more of it. I’d also like to see more of China and Vietnam. If I wanted a nice weekend away though, I think I’d go to Vilnius.

Where was the best food?
Again, this is a toughie. I’m not a big fan of Chinese food on the whole, but the food in Beijing was remarkably good. The food in Tokyo was also very good, especially the curry.

Which was the best train?
The German ICE from Berlin to Koln was the most comfortable daytime service; the Beijing to Shanghai ‘Z Class’ express was the nicest sleeper, the Japanese rail system had the most helpful staff and the Trans-Siberian trains were the most fun.

What was your favourite beer?
The one and only Beer Lao, though Cambodia’s Angkor and Russia’s Sibirskia Corona were pretty good too. China’s Tsingtao was definitely the cheapest; 640ml bottles for 2 yuan in Beijing. That’s about 15p or US$0.30.

How do you pronounce ‘Laos’?
There’s some debate about this one, though it certainly isn’t ‘Lay-oss’ Many people say ‘Louse’ but the proper name of the country is the Lao Peoples’ Democratic Republic or the Lao PDR, and as a former part of French Indochina it seems likely that the S should be silent. Besides, ‘Louse’ is a horrible small crawling insect. I’m going for ‘Lao’, rhyming with ‘Mao’ (as in the chairman) and ‘Cow’ (unless you’re from the westcountry).

Where was the worst ho(s)tel you stayed?
The rudest staff member was in the Hotel Tsentralnya in Novosibirsk as featured in ‘The spy who rang me‘, although she was up against some pretty stiff competition. The most soulless place was probably the guest house on the Khao San road in Bangkok where I ended up for a night. The room looked like a prison cell. The single most unpleasant night was also one of the most expensive, at the HK hostel in Hong Kong, where I found my mattress infested with bed bugs and had to demand the security guard do something about it at 3am. I found a better, and cheaper, place the next day.

How did you get a Russian visa so easily/quickly? Did you need an itinerary?
There’s a lot of misinformation circulating amongst travellers about Russian visas. It’s not that hard really. Technically you need an itinerary but, depending on where you apply, this doesn’t need to be much more than a vague list of towns and hotels, and no-one expects you to keep to it once you get there. My visa support was arranged through WayToRussia.net who I’d thoroughly recommend.

What’s it like travelling on your own, did you get lonely?
Absolutely not! Travelling on your own is the best way to meet new people as well as do exactly what you want to do. It’s more sociable than travelling in a group.

How did you get from KL to Siem Reap?
I flew. Sorry. I feel like a cheat. I haven’t flown since though.

Are you going to publish a book?
I’m flattered that several people have suggested this. I’m looking into it. In the meantime I’m working on a calendar featuring some of the best pictures from the last 10 months.

Where are you going next?
To the bank, to beg for an extension on my overdraft, then to the job centre – I’m out of money; but if I had any, it’d be Eastern Europe from the Ukraine through to Greece, then I’d seriously consider India.

There are a lot of albums in the gallery marked ‘INCOMPLETE’ are you going to finish these?
Yes, there are a whole load more pictures to go up. I’ll post major additions here.

Is this the end of the blog/website?
No, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen here next. Any ideas?

Leaving Berlin on ICE 952 for Koln (Cologne)

And now the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full
I’ve travelled each and every highway
and more, much more than this
I did it my way

At Koln Cathedral waiting for THALYS 9448 to Brussels

Regrets I’ve had a few
But then again too few to mention
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption
I planned each chartered course
Each careful step along the by-way
And more, much more than this
I did it my way

The Mother makes a surprise appearance at Brussels for the final ride on Eurostar 9157 to London

Yes, there were times
I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all
And I stood tall
And did it my way

A toast of Lithuanian Vodka as the train emerges from the Channel Tunnel

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed, and cried
I’ve had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside
I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way
“Oh no, oh no, not me
I did it my way”

A welcoming party at London Waterloo…

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way

• Entirely by train – Vladivostok, Russia to London ~ 12,400 km / 7,700 miles in 36 Days – September 13th to October 19th 2006



And then there’s this funny-looking bridge…

• By train and boat – From Nanning, China via Hong Kong, Beijing and Tokyo ~ 19,000km, 11,800 miles in 68 days
• By train, boat and bus – From Siem Reap, Cambodia via Bangkok, Chiang Mai and Hanoi ~22,000 km / 14,000 miles in 109 days
• 32 trains, 16 buses, 5 boats and 2 planes – Sydney, Australia to London ~ 30,000 km / 19,000 miles in 132 days

Archives They’re all there, don’t be shy – pick from the random selection that appears at the top right of the page or use the month by month listing. Hover over calendar dates to see post names and click to read.

Photos There are a lot more to come from Vietnam onwards, keep looking out for them…

Thankyou Merci, Danke, Jenki, Aaa-chu, Paldies, ???????/Spasiba, Arigatu, Xei-Xei, Cam Ern, Korp Jai, Korp Kun Krap, Aw Cohn Servanne & Charlie, Vicky, Rob & Mir, Mum, Tak, Phil from Philly, Charles in Vilnius, Gena in Riga, Livius & the crew at Riga Old Town Hostel, Andrei, Natasha & Sergei, Francois & all the crazy people I met in Moscow, Nikolai, Angarsk, Katia, Andrei & Diana, everyone I met in Irkutsk and Listvyanka, Hans and the Mongolian ladies on the Baikal train, Aleunka & Yulia, Jenny in Vladivostok, the Belgian guy & everyone else I met on the M/F Rus, Phil in Tokyo (still there for now), all the folks I met on the Su Zhou Hao to Osaka, Zhan (Jane) in Shanghai, The far east hostel crowd in Beijing, Ly the construction man from Nanning, Arthur the magnificent & the Hanoi crew, the crazy Irish girls in Vientiane, everyone from the slow boat to Luang Prabang, CM Blue House people plus the wet raft tour folks in Chiang Mai, Panner in Sihanoukville, Peter in Phnom Penh, Chen, ‘Rosy’ Simon & all in Siem Reap, Aaron in KL, The CRA crew & Giacomo in Singapore, Dad in Darwin, The Mulgas ‘Karma Chameleon’ tour group plus the Annies crew in Alice Springs, Mac & Rob in Adelaide, Miranda, Miranda, Miranda and all the Pink House People in Sydney…… there was more before Sydney but it starts to get hazy…. special memories of the UDU tour in Tasmania, Dorian, Turo, and the other folks I met in Esperance, Tall Steve & the Coolibah guys plus Mac & his friends in Perth, Hannes, Niels and the Brown Kiwi crew in Auckland, Hugh & Tim plus Chris & Valerie in Wellington, Canada Paul plus Pete & Peter at the farm in Takaka, Rene and Family at the Coachman plus the Tap Room crew in Christchurch…. there are loads more I know, I’m sorry if I missed you out, thank you all….

I can see it in the distance as I walk down Friedrichstrasse; around me are hordes of tourists reading the museum-style displays that line the street. At the junction with Zimmerstrasse, a double row of cobblestones in the road marks where the wall once was, and on the other side is what remains of Checkpoint Charlie, manned by a US soldier with a big flag in front of a pile of sandbags and surrounded by souvenir stands.

Twenty years ago this was the site of the most heavily fortified border in the world; between East and West Berlin. Double walls topped with wire and lined with watchtowers, a patrol road in between, with guards, dogs and Kalashnikovs. This was a border created and patrolled by communist East Germany, the DDR, to contain and control an unhappy population desperate to escape to the bourgeois west. Some say that world war three nearly started right here, when US and Soviet tanks faced off across Checkpoint Charlie after a diplomatic dispute 45 years ago in October 1961.

Tak and I left Warsaw on the very comfortable, crowded, and ultimately rather late EC40, the Polish operated Berlin Warsaw Express, which was supposed to take six hours but ended up taking more than seven. After spending our remaining Zloty on some fine Polish beer and a lovely dinner in the restaurant car, the amiable men in uniform, Polish and German officers working their way down the train together, arrived for what will be my penultimate passport check, as there’s no border control between Germany and Belgium. From the station in the former East it was a short ride to the hostel, also in the former East, so this crossing of Checkpoint Charlie is the real deal.

Leaving the last hints of Lenin behind me, I walk along the former course of the wall to see the Brandenberg Gate and another dramatic scene of 20th century history, the Reichstag, which was reconstructed in the 1990s by architect Sir Norman Forster with a huge glass dome, and is once again the seat of the Bundestag, the German government. The fire that gutted it in 1933 ultimately gave Hitler the pretext he needed to abandon democracy, and some say that the Nazi government intentionally orchestrated the attack with this end in mind; that’s not all that different to some of those modern-day conspiracy theories is it?

“He must have known how long we were stopping”, I observe casually as we watch the man who’d wandered off twenty minutes ago return with a McDonald’s bag. I’m on Polish train D79112 at Suwalki in northern Poland, heading for Warsaw, accompanied by Tak and a guy from Philedalphia who’s rather conveniently called Phil.

The eleven hour journey started on Lithuanian train 193 from Vilnius which carried us, with the accompaniment of loud Lithuanian pop music, to the small town of Sestokai not far from the Polish border. This is where the Russian-built broad gauge railway that’s brought me all the way from Vladivostok meets the European standard gauge railway which crosses the border from Poland. A single island platform bewteen the two lines acts as a transit point for passengers like us, and acres of freight wagons occupy the surrounding sidings.

On board the Polish train we passed through the razor wire fence complete with watchtowers, clearly dating from the days when it marked the border of the USSR. I felt quite superior as my two intercontiental companions received a polite interrogation from the Polish immigration officer about their plans whilst I was left alone with the now familiar ambivalent passport glance and nod.

Twenty minutes down the line we arrived here at Suwalki, where the train is making a seemingly unending stop, and we’re not quite sure if it’s safe to wander off or not. The man we saw, presumably a regular passenger, had clearly wandered down to the large McDonald’s sign we can see towering in the distance to buy his lunch. Poland’s definitely changed rather dramatically since the days of Lech Walesa and food shortages.

Later, we begin to realise that the man clearly knew what he was doing. Despite the almost continual addition of new carriages to the train and passengers to fill them as we get closer to Warsaw, no amount of traversing the ever-lengthening corridors can find us any kind of refreshment vending facility. My dream of a nice cup of tea has to be tempered by Tak’s bottle of Lithuanian vodka and Phil’s crisps. As the train pulls into Warsaw and yet another set of golden arches punctuates the night sky, I resolve to myself that it’s better to be hungry and well-lubricated than to eat there anyway.