Pussy Riot's Nadezhda Tolokonnikova 'may serve rest of jail term in hospital' Ms Tolokonnikova was transferred from Prison Colony No. 14 in Mordovia in October after going on hunger strike at appalling conditions and alleged threats against her life by the prison administration. Her arrival in Siberia this week ended 26 days of silence from the prison service and growing concern about her well being. Mr Verzilov had spent anxious weeks picketing the prison service headquarters in Moscow and chasing rumours to jails around the country in efforts to find out where his wife was. He was staking out a prison in Nizhny Ingash, a remote settlement on the Trans-Siberian Railway some 200 km from Krasnoyarsk, when he heard the news. After rushing back to the regional capital to deliver a food and toiletries parcel to the hospital on Friday morning, he was granted a video-link meeting with her later that afternoon - the first time he had seen his wife in a month. Nadezhda Tolokonnikova attending a court session in April this year (MAXIM SHIPENKOV /EPA) While Mr Verzilov said his wife was relieved at the end of her isolation, her ordeal is far from over. Temperatures here regularly plunge to the minus 30s in winter. At minus three degrees Celsius and with scattered snow, the weather in Krasnoyarsk was "still warm" on Friday. And while Anton Chekov once judged the city the most beautiful in Siberia, the view from Ms Tolokonnikova's cell, if there is one, is unlovely. Tuberculosis Hospital No. 1 is blocked from public view by twenty foot tall corrugated steel fences, and sits on a busy main road in a district of 1970s era tower blocks and industrial lots. Its nearest neighbour is a grimy service station. The director of the secure hospital was unavailable for comment when the Telegraph visited on Friday, but a prison officer who declined to be named confirmed Ms Toloknnikova was in the building and said she was "doing fine." Yeah, she's here. She arrived just a couple of days ago, and she's spoken to her husband. She's doing ok. I obviously can't give you a medical opinion, mind you," he said. We have a TB department but we treat every kind of health problem. It's called a TB hospital, but this is really an all round hospital," the officer said. She's not in the TB wards. With over 1,200 beds, Tuberculosis Hospital Number 1 is the largest prison hospital in Siberia, providing both special TB treatment and general medical attention to prisoners from all over the region. Ms Tolokonnikova's reappearance is also set to throw more light on the murky business of prison transfers in Russia. While her 26-day disappearance raised concern both in Russia and abroad, her experience is not out of the ordinary. Pyotr Verzilov Transit between prisons across Russia's vast land mass is an arduous affair involving decades old prison trains which are hitched onto regular passenger services. Under Russian law the authorities are not obliged to inform an inmate's family of his or her whereabouts until ten days after they arrive at their new place of detention, meaning that lengthy "disappearances" are not uncommon. In 1849 it took Dostoevsky 15 days to travel from St Petersburg to Tobolsk. In 2013, 160 years later, it took Nadia almost twice as long to cover a similar distance," joked Mr Verzilov Prison authorities have said Ms Tolokonnikova was send to Siberia because she was born and has permanent registration in the arctic mining town of Norilsk - 900 miles north of Krasnoyarsk. But they refused to identify a specific institution, and her family and lawyers say every prison they contacted in the region refused to confirm or deny that she would be there. Ms Tolokonnikova told her husband on Friday that her own epic 26-day journey covered some 4000 kilometres by prison train via transit jails in and around Chelyabinsk, Tyumen, Omsk, and Novosibirsk, with several two to four day stops at transit prisons. She was kept in isolation throughout the journey, and though relatively well treated Mr Verzilov said the authorities had done everything to obstruct the usual unofficial channels prisoners use to let their family know of their whereabouts. By comparison the recent transfer of 28 Greenpeace activists and two freelance journalists from Murmansk to St Petersburg, which took just 27 hours - the same as the regular sleeper service - was unusually quick. Prosecutors on Friday began applying for a three month extension of pre-trial detention for the 30 activists, who face charges of hooliganism for a protest at a Russian oil rig in September. The prisoners, including six Britons, are currently due to be released on November 24.