BAM stands for Baikal-Amur Magistrale and is a branch line of the Trans-Sib which runs north around the top of Lake Baikal, continuing east. They were celebrating it's 30th anniversary, although some tunnels have only recently been completed. Like the Trans-Sib the engineering feats involved in carving out the tracks across tundra, taiga and permafrost, through ancient basalt and grannit mountains, is really an incredible thing.
Another early morning departure, I hopped aboard happily thinking I knew what I was in for - chatting, eating, snoozing and great scenery. Well not all as expected! Not so many people take the BAM and the train was not nearly full. I shared the immacualtely clean (especially in comparison to the last train I had been on!) 4 berth closed compartment to find my only companion was Mrs Silent. I got a one word answer as to where she as going, a nod to the question if Krasnoyarsk was her home town and that was it. Not a peep out of here, although she texted constantly. My whole carriage was silentville, everyone travelling with their doors shut and often I wasnt sure if I wasnt the only one left beside a ton of provodniks who seemed to be around. Bizarre.
Still I had a bottom bunk so could travel sideways whilst still curled up in my sheets and blankets. What better way is there to travel in the world?

I awoke early to soaring pine covered mountains, no sign of civilisation apart from the track, powerlines and an unsealed road, all running compactly parallel and incessantly eastwards. The grandeur was such that sleep was immediately shaken from me (at 2am/6am - still on double time - this was rather inconvenient). It meant that the final 7 hours of this 29 hour leg were rather long, I was not even graced with Mrs Silents' company as she had disappeared during the night. I was getting worried about running out of books to read as I was ploughing through them and was pretty sure that the railway town of Severobaikalsk that was my destination for 4 days would not have an english bookshop. I am henceforth allowed to carry as many books as possible to alleviate all such future fears!!! It's very distressing to be potentially bookless!!!
In Novosibirsk I was not able to stop myself from ducking into the Dom Khnigy. I love it! Every city has a "House of Books". Inevitably all in Russian but I live in hope for a small English for academic purposes section or some such luck! Which I had. In a special glass cabinet were some books that looked like they were printed when my Dad was in primary school - "Boys own adventure" style. "Jennings and his adventures" and "Well done Cecil" were just too good to resist! Old english texts from the turn of the century (the previous one!) with footnotes in Russian I figured they'd be a good laugh, which so far they have. They're probably collectors items in England these days!!!
I'd emailed a guy by the name of Rashit in Severobaikalsk, asking him to organise a home stay for me as I was bored with hotels. I hadn't been able to check my email again so wasnt sure what the result would be but there as the station entrance was a sweet little lady, Rashit's wife Rahalia (not sure of spelling) with a notepad with my name on it. Held upside down! I guess Latin characters dont mean much to her.
She's a sweet, energetic little lady and we were able to communicate with no problems about all kinds of little things. She took me to my apartment in the centre of town which was to be my home base for the next few days and then to their house where I was fed a huge dinenr.