Has anyone seen Ice Road Truckers? It’s a great bit of television and if you haven’t seen it and get the chance, I’d strongly recommend that you do. It traces the working lives of an extraordinary bunch of chaps (I apologise now if there are some lady drivers but I didn’t see any) who drive enormous, articulated lorries across the frozen lakes of Alaska delivering all manner of equipment. As the name of the program suggests, the roads are made entirely of ice which adds a tremendous element of danger to an already difficult job.

This morning I took a three hour taxi ride from Kogalym to Surgut. It was around -20 degrees, pitch dark, and the view out of the front windscreen was not unlike that of the aforementioned channel 4 program. I have to say that it was possibly one of the most frightening things I’ve ever done. The roads in Western Siberia are thankfully pretty straight which is just as well because every time anything passes you going the other way, you’re instantly blinded for the next 100 yards or so. I’ve no doubt that the driver has done the journey a million times, but for a first time passenger, eager to get home, it was nothing short of terrifying. I kept trying to fall asleep but unfortunately the road was so uneven that every time I came close to nodding off I was rudely jolted awake. Opening my eyes I was often greeted with a view even more terrifying than when I’d closed them. I distinctly remember coming too on one occasion only to see an overturned lorry in the ditch by the side of the road. It took a while for me to pluck up the courage to shut them again after that I can tell you.

The trip was made even more surreal by the fact that one of our party managed to get himself nicely inebriated prior to leaving. While I sat cowering on the back seat, desperately trying to remember as many episodes of Ray Mears as I could, he happily sang and bobbed along for the entire journey, seemingly oblivious to the whole thing.

As I write this last little entry, I’m sitting in Domodedovo Airport where I started my Russian journey nearly two weeks ago. That first flight seems like an eternity ago I must say. I’m a little irritable as I had no sleep on the flight from Surgut. It was a rather old plane and, as the token tall guy, I was presented with a special none-reclining seat to enjoy. I’ve also landed far too early to check-in for the British Airways leg so I’m just sitting, killing time and debating whether I should hang around by the full body scanner this time to see who follows me in.

I’ve travelled a fair amount over the last six months and I I’m really looking forward to doing not very much for a few days when I finally get back to the UK. Of course I’ll have to think of something else to blog about. I’ve really enjoyed having you along for the journey and it’ll be a terrible shame to let it all end after we’ve just started getting to know each other. I must say that writing a few paragraphs every few days was extremely therapeutic while such a long way from home and I would strongly recommend it to anyone who’s thinking of travelling for an extended period. For now however I’ll leave you with this last little snippet. One tweeter recently asked me, “At -40, does it freeze before it hits the ground?” Well, after a thorough two week research trip to Western Siberia I can happily conclude that, “No it doesn’t.”

My last full day in Western Siberia. What a strange mix of emotions I’m feeling as I get ready for the office. I have to say that “surprise” is not something I expected, but having been granted a lie-in, that’s actually the predominant thought at the moment.

It goes without saying that I’m obviously looking forward to going home too. I’ve missed family and friends a great deal, particularly over the last few days, so it will be great to land in the UK and start catching up. I’ve also made many new friends and a part of me is genuinely sorry to be leaving them behind. I’d love to take them all with me and throw a big old shin-dig for them back in blighty. I’d like to show them the kind of hospitality they’ve shown me during my stay. People here, without exception, have been unbelievably friendly, courteous, curious, interesting, interested, funny and happy….. perhaps apart from one security guard, but then I’m sure I saw the merest flicker of a smile as I reluctantly handed over my poorly concealed mobile phone.

Last night we had a little dinner in recognition of the successful project carried out over the last week and a half, and toasted our success as well as our continued friendship and business partnership. Well I say “little dinner” but anyone who’s read my earlier blogs will know fine well they don’t do little dinner’s here. Last night I genuinely thought the traditionally cast-iron Baldwin stomach was going to meet its Waterloo. Caviar, spicy sausage, cabbage, chicken in sesame, peppers in something, herring in something else, potatoes, white bread, black bread, the dishes just kept coming and coming and coming. All washed down of course with glass after glass of vodka. And when I said a toast to our continued friendship, of course I meant our continued friendship and everything else as well. It was a wonderful night with lots of laughter and smiles however a minor low point came after the last of the aforementioned dishes was cleared away only to be followed by the main course of steak and raspberries. The chap next to me actually asked if I was ok. “Fine” I answered, “just praying for a second wind”.

And so, a fine and fitting farewell to a wonderful and unexpectedly varied experience. I’ve never really been one for taking many pictures but I perhaps wished I’d snapped a few more on this trip. I mean there are things that not even a vivid imagination such as mine can hold on to forever. It’s not every day you get to shoot the breeze with two Siberian, pool playing lesbians (yep – even in Siberia too), or gate-crash a wedding and dance the night away with a complete strangers mother-in-law. Despite all this however, one thing is certain; London, Moscow, New York or Kogalym, we’re all just doing what we can to get along, and if we can pass on a little friendship, warmth and humanity along the way, well, the world is suddenly not such a scary place. I’ve no doubt that I’ll continue to be a ‘died in the wall’ xenophobe, but I have to say that right now it’s definitely with a pretty small ‘x’. Das vidania.