The two rivers which converge in Omsk appear to play an important part in the city's economy, judging by the hundreds of container cranes and industry nearby. When we arrive on Thursday morning, the temperature has dropped, and the rivers are barely distinguishable from the snow-covered parks which are an attractive part of the city centre.
Our group has not quite got the hang of a good night's sleep on the train, with complaints variously of excessive heat, "pneumatic drill" snoring, and the usual problem of negotiating one's way to the toilet during the night after a beer too many in the restaurant car.
Despite feeling slightly fragile on our morning arrival, we quickly find the trolleybus for the 6km trip to the city centre, quick coffee and breakfast and bags dumped in hotel.
Then a walking tour of the city centre, and off to experience the suburbs by tram. For some of us it's an opportunity to look out of the window and see what goes on, for others an opportunity to experience the ancient, rattling Soviet-built vehicles on worn rails and observe the operational arrangements.
Returning via a war memorial flanked by scary portraits of local heroes, we walk the 2km or so along the bank of the Irtysh back to the centre, and settle into an "Irish" pub which turns out to be rubbish (and Andrew is not impressed at having inadvertantly ordered a non-alcoholic lager). We escape to a nice restaurant with a barely-legible menu handwritten in Russian, but we end up well fed and watered.
Early night to try and recover some sleep, and wake up to -18 degrees plus windchill as we return to the station for the next stage of our journey into Siberia. Nice coincidence to see the same conductress on the trolleybus who had sold us our tickets 24 hours earlier (and who suggested that it was quite a novelty for her to see foreigners on public transport). Omsk has a bit of character and individuality , and things are now feeling more Siberian than Russian.
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