Kira, from Germany, had dreamed of the Trans-Siberian for years. The problem was that nobody around her — family, friends, her partner — wanted her to go. So she learned Russian on an app, planned the whole thing quietly, booked her hotels and her trains, and told everyone she was going hiking in Germany for four weeks. As she puts it: well, Germany is quite big.
What followed, in September 2025, was a solo journey from Berlin to Tallinn, across the Narva border by bus, then St. Petersburg, Moscow and the full length of the Trans-Siberian to Vladivostok, with stops in Yekaterinburg, Novosibirsk, Irkutsk, Ulan-Ude and Skovorodino. She travelled third class, lost her phone on a train, had a very strange morning behind a locked door in Ulan-Ude, and came home saying it was the best trip of her life. She went back to Moscow again in February 2026.
What follows is Kira’s own account, in her words, gently tidied so it reads at an easy pace. The photos are hers too. Thank you, Kira, for sharing them.
| Traveller | Kira |
| From | Germany |
| When | September 2025 (plus a second trip to Moscow in February 2026) |
| Route | Berlin – Tallinn – Narva border – St. Petersburg – Moscow – Yekaterinburg – Novosibirsk – Irkutsk – Ulan-Ude – Skovorodino – Vladivostok – Beijing – Berlin |
| Entry | Regular tourist visa |
| Style | Solo, third class on the Trans-Siberian, hotels and holiday apartments |
| Duration | About four weeks |
Kira’s route, approximate. Dashed line: the leg through Europe. Solid line: the Trans-Siberian across Russia.
The dream, and the cover story
My family, my friends and my partner didn’t want me to travel to Russia. But I had the dream of going on the Trans-Siberian one day, so I started learning Russian with an app and planning the trip. Then I found this website, followed the advice, booked the hotels and the trains — and told my family, my friends and my partner that I would be hiking for four weeks in Germany.
Well, Germany is quite big.
Crossing at Narva: change all your euros first
In September 2025 I flew from Berlin to Tallinn, and from Tallinn I took the bus to St. Petersburg. I was surprised to find that I had to change all my euros into roubles, otherwise I couldn’t get through the Narva border. It was quite a large amount, but it all went fine.
At the border I had to wait a very long time, though in the end I think we were only two hours behind schedule. My whole suitcase was searched — and there was a lot of it, because I was overweight. While we were going through the checks, the bus waited for us.
St. Petersburg: strangers who carry your suitcase
When I arrived in St. Petersburg a friendly woman helped me find my way to the metro and buy the right ticket. My suitcase was overloaded and so heavy. I was bracing myself to haul it up a flight of stairs when a strong soldier with only one arm — lucky he still had that one to carry my suitcase — took it up as if it weighed nothing.
That was a really good beginning, and it kept happening the whole time I was in Russia: men were extremely helpful with my suitcase. I have never experienced that kind of helpfulness in Germany. The metro surprised me too — how deep it was, with those fast escalators, and how beautiful.
I couldn’t find my hotel, and I couldn’t phone them to ask, because I had no Russian SIM card (my phone was too old for an eSIM). So I asked someone on the street. He helped me enormously: he called the hotel and then carried my suitcase up five flights of stairs to the entrance. The building had no lift. That was when I learned how to say thank you very much in Russian.
I wanted to get a Russian bank card, but the activation didn’t work. Closing the account again was difficult, but in the end — with the help and the mobile phone of the hotel receptionist — it worked.
There was one thing about St. Petersburg I didn’t know: at night the bridges go up and you can’t cross them. When I told the policemen which railway station I wanted to walk to, they started laughing. Luckily a taxi driver took me over another bridge and got me to the station. My train was very early in the morning and I had planned to walk.
Tip: the drawbridges of St. Petersburg open on a fixed schedule every night, and once they’re up, the city really is split in two. Check the timetable before you plan a night-time crossing on foot.
What surprised me most is that in all my time in Russia, walking at night or in the dark, I never felt unsafe. Outside the touristic or urban areas I felt more awkward, but then I’d reach a normal neighbourhood again and it passed.
Moscow, twice
I took the five-hour train to Moscow and spent three days there. After the security advice I’d read, I kept my stay a little shorter than planned — but everything was completely normal.
In February 2026 I went back to Moscow for a whole week. I still did a lot of sightseeing, went to the opera, saw the ballet and went skiing.
Boarding the Trans-Siberian: my stops
From Moscow I set off on the Trans-Siberian. I took a one-day stop in Yekaterinburg, one day in Novosibirsk, five days in Irkutsk, two days in Ulan-Ude, one day in Skovorodino and one day in Vladivostok. Then I flew to Beijing to see the Forbidden City for a day, and from there I flew back to Berlin.
The hardest day: Ulan-Ude
Arriving in Ulan-Ude was the one genuinely challenging moment of the trip. First I had to ask the taxi driver to help me find my accommodation. That was a little difficult, but in the end he called the owner of the holiday apartment and I found my number. Then I realised I needed a code for the key box, so I had to ask a neighbour to call the owner again for me and get the code.
And when I finally got into the flat, I realised I had lost my old, broken mobile phone.
I was travelling with offline maps, and in the app I had marked every destination I wanted: all the addresses of stations, hotels and sights. It didn’t seem a long way to the railway station, so I tried to remember the route I’d walked — mostly straight lines, and when I’d turned left or right I’d noted the surroundings or a distinctive building.
At the station it took about fifteen minutes to explain, using Russian, English, body language and the staff’s translation app, that I had left my phone on the train. I remembered playing with a child and not paying attention when I packed up. The train staff always say: take all your belongings with you, especially your mobile phone. But sometimes you’re not focused and you forget. They called the chief on the train, but it couldn’t be found.
I also asked them what to do about the registration, or where to register. They didn’t know. On the way back to the flat I stopped at a restaurant where I’d asked in advance whether they had WiFi I could use. Luckily I had a second phone with me, so I could reinstall the offline maps app, download all the maps I’d need and mark all the places again so I could find them by GPS. And luckily I could also find the information I needed about registration on this website. That was a great relief.
The door handle
The next morning, someone knocked at the door of the apartment. I went to it quietly and looked. He said he was the taxi driver, but I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t open the door and stayed silent. Perhaps I had said yes to something I hadn’t understood — some misunderstanding about being picked up for sightseeing.
He started shouting and knocking very loudly, and pushing the door handle down again and again. I just took a seat, wondering what to do. The handle was being pushed harder and harder, until the door was even moving a little — but the lock was very strong. So I started to eat breakfast. That is insane, I know. I simply didn’t want to go out there. If I had left earlier, I wouldn’t have had that experience at all. I did some meditation, some yoga, some reading.
Eventually he went away, and after breakfast I left the flat quickly so nobody would know which apartment I’d come from. On the way back that evening I thought about moving to a hotel for the night. But I loved the apartment, and I knew I could sleep there, so I stayed. Then there were very loud noises in the flat above me, perhaps some violence. I heard the door handle pushed down twice, normally. I didn’t turn on the light and I couldn’t see anyone, because the hallway was dark — so I went to bed and slept well. I knew the door was VERY strong.
Third class: not what I expected
This was a very cool, adventurous journey — the coolest trip I have ever done, and the first time I’ve done so much sightseeing.
I had thought that travelling third class on the train would be exhausting, or somehow uncomfortable. The opposite happened. It wasn’t boring. It felt a little like a school trip: there was always someone to talk to and to play games with — cards, and the German board game “Mensch ärgere dich nicht”. The bed sheets came hygienically packed in plastic, and the chocolate I’d brought from Germany was a hit with everyone.
I couldn’t speak or understand very much Russian, so people often thought I had a problem with my hearing. But when I came clean about where I was from, sometimes it was too much attention for me — especially with one man who was very suspicious of foreigners. All the other people around me were supportive, drinking with me, but that was the one night when it took a while to fall asleep.
All in all, though, travelling on the Trans-Siberian was even meditative, which I hadn’t expected. The pace was perfect. I started reading books again. I calmed down from difficulties in my life. I slept better than I do at home — and I missed the movement of the train whenever I stopped over at a hotel.
There is a danger, though: that you fall in love with the people, with the train, and with Russia.
Have you travelled to Russia recently and want to share your experience? Tell me about your trip here and I’ll publish it in this section, under your name or anonymously, as you prefer. Accounts like Kira’s are the ones that really help those planning their trip.
