I rode the legendary Trans-Siberian Railway on a 2,000-mile journey across four time zones in Russia. Here's what it was like spending 50 hours on the longest train line in the world.

Aug 6, 2019, 18:44 IST

With a total length of 5,772 miles, the Trans-Siberian Railway is the longest in the world.

It connects Moscow to Vladivostok in far Eastern Russia.

The railway took 25 years to build.

My journey on the Trans-Siberian began in Novosibirsk, a city of 1.6 million people in Siberia.

Before I got on the train, I had to stock up on some essentials for the journey, so I headed to a grocery store right across the street from the train station.

Terrified that I might miss my train, I arrived at the Novosibirsk train station an hour before my train was scheduled to leave.

I had some trouble finding the correct platform, but after frantically querying multiple people, "Trans-Siberian?" and getting gestures in the right direction, I eventually found it.

The train corridor was narrow. In order for two people to pass, they'd both have to turn to the side.

The compartment was a bit smaller than I had expected. I had a second-class ticket, which I'd bought about three weeks in advance for $148.

I was the last member of my four-person compartment to arrive. The other passengers were three Russian men who appeared to be in their 30s. Later, I would learn they were all in the military and taking the train home from work.

I was the last member of my four-person compartment to arrive. The other passengers were three Russian men who appeared to be in their 30s. Later, I would learn they were all in the military and taking the train home from work.

The bunks in our compartment were a little wider than half the size of a twin bed. Near the door, small ladders unfolded to allow the upper bank passenger to climb up. Even with the ladder, clambering up to my bunk wasn't particularly easy or graceful. I hoped I wouldn't have to pee in the middle of the night.

The bunks in our compartment were a little wider than half the size of a twin bed. Near the door, small ladders unfolded to allow the upper bank passenger to climb up. Even with the ladder, clambering up to my bunk wasn't particularly easy or graceful. I hoped I wouldn't have to pee in the middle of the night.

The bottom bunks each had a power outlet.

A pillow and blanket were waiting for me on my bunk when I got on the train, and about an hour in, the attendant came around and handed out pillow cases, sheets, and duvet covers.

The attendant also handed out a hygiene kit that included a pair of flimsy blue slippers, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a wet wipe.

Next to the bathroom was a garbage bag and chute.

The bathroom was cramped and far from luxurious.

The sink was tiny, maybe slightly larger than an airplane sink. The first time I used it, I squirted soap all over my hands and then tried to turn the red knob. Nothing happened. Assuming it was broken, I rubbed the soap off my hands with a paper towel and went back to the compartment.

The sink was tiny, maybe slightly larger than an airplane sink. The first time I used it, I squirted soap all over my hands and then tried to turn the red knob. Nothing happened. Assuming it was broken, I rubbed the soap off my hands with a paper towel and went back to the compartment.

In the middle of the hallway was a power outlet and a sign listing all the stops on the way to Moscow, including the exact time of the stop and how long the train would sit at the station.

I wore my trusty mint-green slippers throughout my entire journey on the train. They were convenient because I could easily slip them off to climb up on my bunk, and back on when I went to the bathroom or for a stroll in the corridor.

I wore my trusty mint-green slippers throughout my entire journey on the train. They were convenient because I could easily slip them off to climb up on my bunk, and back on when I went to the bathroom or for a stroll in the corridor.

At the other end of the train car from the bathroom was the most underrated part of the train journey: the samovar, or hot water kettle.

I was most excited for the scenery I would see on my train journey.

Here and there we passed small towns and villages.

Almost every house I saw had a garden in the backyard.

At about 6:30 p.m., an hour and a half after I'd boarded the train, the attendant came around to take orders for dinner.

Dinner also came with an additional little box with a water bottle, some packaged salami, a cookie that was something like an Oreo knockoff, and plastic utensils.

While we ate, I chatted with my three new friends through Google Translate. I'd read that I wouldn't have cell phone service on most of the train journey — nor Wi-Fi — so I downloaded the offline version of Google Translate for Russian. It ended up being a lifesaver.

While we ate, I chatted with my three new friends through Google Translate. I'd read that I wouldn't have cell phone service on most of the train journey — nor Wi-Fi — so I downloaded the offline version of Google Translate for Russian. It ended up being a lifesaver.

I drank some tea with water from the trusty samovar down the hall.

After a day of airplanes, taxis, and making sure I made it on the train, I was glad to have some time to relax on my bunk. There wasn't quite enough room for me to comfortably sit up, so I laid down against my pillow to read.

After a day of airplanes, taxis, and making sure I made it on the train, I was glad to have some time to relax on my bunk. There wasn't quite enough room for me to comfortably sit up, so I laid down against my pillow to read.

When I woke up the next morning, I had three new traveling companions in my compartment, all Russian: two middle-aged sisters traveling together and a middle-aged man traveling by himself. I said hello and then ate a granola bar for breakfast while reading (what else?) Anna Karenina.

When I woke up the next morning, I had three new traveling companions in my compartment, all Russian: two middle-aged sisters traveling together and a middle-aged man traveling by himself. I said hello and then ate a granola bar for breakfast while reading (what else?) Anna Karenina.

I went to check out the dining car, which I'd heard was only two cars over.

The dining car was nothing fancy.

Beer and wine were sold at the small bar.

The two sisters and the man were on the train with me for about 18 hours total, I believe, but time seemed to have lost all meaning at that point.

After my first night on the train, I was desperately wishing for a shower. Some Trans-Siberian trains have showers in their first-class cars, but as far as I knew, my train didn't even have a first-class car.

After my first night on the train, I was desperately wishing for a shower. Some Trans-Siberian trains have showers in their first-class cars, but as far as I knew, my train didn't even have a first-class car.

I spent a lot of time on my favorite pastime: pacing up and down the corridor drinking tea.

The scenery eventually got pretty monotonous. Yes, it was beautiful — all greenery, trees, wildflowers, and sunshine. But there wasn't much variety.

But every once in a while, the trees would open up and I'd get a glimpse of something new, like a sparkling river.

We passed some cute riverfront houses.

A little over six hours before the end of the journey, we had one of our final stops in the town of Danilov, a little over 200 miles (333 kilometers) from Moscow.

Local women were selling fresh strawberries and cherries on the other side of the train station gate.

A few stray dogs were hanging out on the platform, soaking up the sunshine as well as attention from train passengers.

Just before 5 p.m., we arrived in Moscow right on schedule, 50 hours after we'd departed Novosibirsk.

By the time I got back to Moscow, my 50-hour train journey had spanned more than 2,000 miles across four time zones.

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I rode the legendary Trans-Siberian Railway on a 2,000-mile journey across four time zones in Russia. Here's what it was like spending 50 hours on the longest train line in the world.

With a total length of 5,772 miles, the Trans-Siberian Railway is the longest in the world.

It connects Moscow to Vladivostok in far Eastern Russia.

The railway took 25 years to build.

My journey on the Trans-Siberian began in Novosibirsk, a city of 1.6 million people in Siberia.

Before I got on the train, I had to stock up on some essentials for the journey, so I headed to a grocery store right across the street from the train station.

Terrified that I might miss my train, I arrived at the Novosibirsk train station an hour before my train was scheduled to leave.

I had some trouble finding the correct platform, but after frantically querying multiple people, "Trans-Siberian?" and getting gestures in the right direction, I eventually found it.

The train corridor was narrow. In order for two people to pass, they'd both have to turn to the side.

The compartment was a bit smaller than I had expected. I had a second-class ticket, which I'd bought about three weeks in advance for $148.

I was the last member of my four-person compartment to arrive. The other passengers were three Russian men who appeared to be in their 30s. Later, I would learn they were all in the military and taking the train home from work.

The bottom bunks each had a power outlet.

A pillow and blanket were waiting for me on my bunk when I got on the train, and about an hour in, the attendant came around and handed out pillow cases, sheets, and duvet covers.

The attendant also handed out a hygiene kit that included a pair of flimsy blue slippers, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a wet wipe.

Next to the bathroom was a garbage bag and chute.

The bathroom was cramped and far from luxurious.

The sink was tiny, maybe slightly larger than an airplane sink. The first time I used it, I squirted soap all over my hands and then tried to turn the red knob. Nothing happened. Assuming it was broken, I rubbed the soap off my hands with a paper towel and went back to the compartment.

In the middle of the hallway was a power outlet and a sign listing all the stops on the way to Moscow, including the exact time of the stop and how long the train would sit at the station.

I wore my trusty mint-green slippers throughout my entire journey on the train. They were convenient because I could easily slip them off to climb up on my bunk, and back on when I went to the bathroom or for a stroll in the corridor.

At the other end of the train car from the bathroom was the most underrated part of the train journey: the samovar, or hot water kettle.

I was most excited for the scenery I would see on my train journey.

Here and there we passed small towns and villages.

Almost every house I saw had a garden in the backyard.

At about 6:30 p.m., an hour and a half after I'd boarded the train, the attendant came around to take orders for dinner.

Dinner also came with an additional little box with a water bottle, some packaged salami, a cookie that was something like an Oreo knockoff, and plastic utensils.

While we ate, I chatted with my three new friends through Google Translate. I'd read that I wouldn't have cell phone service on most of the train journey — nor Wi-Fi — so I downloaded the offline version of Google Translate for Russian. It ended up being a lifesaver.

I drank some tea with water from the trusty samovar down the hall.

After a day of airplanes, taxis, and making sure I made it on the train, I was glad to have some time to relax on my bunk. There wasn't quite enough room for me to comfortably sit up, so I laid down against my pillow to read.

When I woke up the next morning, I had three new traveling companions in my compartment, all Russian: two middle-aged sisters traveling together and a middle-aged man traveling by himself. I said hello and then ate a granola bar for breakfast while reading (what else?) Anna Karenina.

I went to check out the dining car, which I'd heard was only two cars over.

The dining car was nothing fancy.

Beer and wine were sold at the small bar.

The two sisters and the man were on the train with me for about 18 hours total, I believe, but time seemed to have lost all meaning at that point.

After my first night on the train, I was desperately wishing for a shower. Some Trans-Siberian trains have showers in their first-class cars, but as far as I knew, my train didn't even have a first-class car.

I spent a lot of time on my favorite pastime: pacing up and down the corridor drinking tea.

The scenery eventually got pretty monotonous. Yes, it was beautiful — all greenery, trees, wildflowers, and sunshine. But there wasn't much variety.

But every once in a while, the trees would open up and I'd get a glimpse of something new, like a sparkling river.

We passed some cute riverfront houses.

A little over six hours before the end of the journey, we had one of our final stops in the town of Danilov, a little over 200 miles (333 kilometers) from Moscow.

Local women were selling fresh strawberries and cherries on the other side of the train station gate.

A few stray dogs were hanging out on the platform, soaking up the sunshine as well as attention from train passengers.

Just before 5 p.m., we arrived in Moscow right on schedule, 50 hours after we'd departed Novosibirsk.

By the time I got back to Moscow, my 50-hour train journey had spanned more than 2,000 miles across four time zones.