Half past eight and we are at Perm. As we approached the city there was a lovely sunset. Perm is a vast city on the scale of Birmingham or Manchester. On an evening such as this with clear skies and sunshine, it looks great.
Years ago I read a book by Craig Thomas, in which the action was set in a rough oil town in the Siberian Arctic, called Novy Urengoi. It was pleasing to see a long 18-coach train draw into the station, full of noisy and boisterous Russians, bound for just that place.
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