At my group’s meeting point in St. Petersburg station, Lenin’s bust was long gone, replaced by one of Peter the Great. Only blocks away, Nicholas II had been snatched from his palace during the 1917 revolution and sent away under guard by train. The “guard” for my trip was waiting by the statue.

Maria was literally an Intrepid guide (from the Australian company of the same name), a far cry from the propaganda-spouting old Soviet Intourist handlers. she was a young local who shared our rail cabins, vodka and surprises as we traced the path of the last czar to the literal end of his line in Siberia.

We departed on the night train to Moscow, where we would connect with the Tran-Siberian. I entered the rail car a bit before midnight and felt like I was on a prison train to summer camp. there were 100 people crammed into a 2-foot-wide hallway, tossing bedclothes, linens and provisions all over beds, tables and each other.

Each rail car had 15 doorless alcoves, each with two sets of bunk beds that left everyone’s feet hanging in the hallway. Two more beds folded out from the hallway wall, which meant every six people shared a space 10 feet long and 5 feet wide.

I entered my alcove to stumble upon the three Stooges of Siberia. three thick men in their 50s sat jammed together on one bunk, their reddened eyes and raised voices indicating a pretrain tailgate. they smelled like a combination of cheap vodka, sausage and sweat. Maria took one look at them, turned to me and said “Welcome to genuine Russia experience. good luck.” And she left.

Following the Path of Russia's Final Czar, by Rail