g&k

The distance between Ulaanbaatar and Irkutsk is just over 1000kms. We had travelled almost exactly this distance between Shanghai and Beijing in just under 5 hours. So by that logic our current journey should be long finished. It wasn't. It takes 33 long hours. The reason being the monumentally slow border crossing, even without the bogie change required at the China-Mongolian border.

In this case we stopped for about 2 hours on the Mongolian side whilst papers were inspected and our compartments inspected by Customs. This predictably led to a flurry of activity by the Mongolian women who tried to secrete their Chivas Regal anywhere they could. The carriage attendant came to enquire about the tire which was smilingly returned to her with a feigned lack of understanding of her desire to keep it in our possession. No thank you.

From the idle speed of the Mongolian processes things slowed down considerably in Russia. After passing through 'No-man's land', marked at either end by secured zones with guard towers, we stopped and stood at Naushki station for more than 7 hours.


The customs duties were repeated in just over an hour leaving another 6 when nothing at all appeared to happen. We all wandered off to see the town only to discover there was very little of it. Beers, vodkas and noodles were purchased. Our first Russian word was read and understood - Cafe!

But after another hour waiting on the platform we came to our first conclusions about Siberia: it's too hot and there are no jukeboxes. It must have been about 20 degrees with blazing sunshine and we were rugged up to the eyeballs in the expectation of polar deep freeze. To pass the time we paid to use the toilet for a quick wash (with a rag on a stick). On emerging we noted our train had been whittled down to a single carriage that stood lonely by itself on the centre track. We were allowed on but it was over 30 degrees inside the carriage so we went back to waiting in the Naushki dust.

By 4 o'clock in the afternoon our carriage was hitched up like a foster child to a set of Russian cars and an engine and we were invited back on board. As we wound further into Siberia we noted the increasingly wooded landscape changing.

Small timber houses for which the area is known appeared in contrast to Gers on the Mongolian side. And we even caught first sights of snow and ice. It really was Siberia! We drank beer and vodka with the boys and tried to forget that we had to be up at 6am the next morning in Irkutsk.

Any good day should start with a full, cooked, late breakfast and today did. We got beans. This was followed by a stroll around the still partially frozen river the hotel overlooked. Along the way we spotted some tourists on a significantly more substantial horse ride than we had - they must have paid or else had a driver who was monumentally late. We also met a couple coming the other way who were recognisably Australian before they exclaimed "Howyagoin'?" by the fact he was wearing shorts in 1 degree weather.


After this we were hunted by wolves and had to flee for our lives. At least we think they were hunting us. And they may not have been wolves. It was difficult to tell at such a distance. Suffice to say some canines looked at us and started trotting in our general direction. Presumably on their way to take a baby from a tent.


It was odd in a country famous for little else, food-wise, than mutton, that we were to be served New Zealand lamb for lunch. And this wouldn't have been lamb that New Zealand would have been proud of. But the flavouring was nice and represented the last proper meal for the next 48 hours as we now headed back to Ulaanbaatar to board the train for a two-night trip to Irkutsk, Russia.


The hotel driver in an effort to atone being two hours late yesterday was today two hours early. So we arrived with more than two hours to wait in the overcrowded, underlit waiting room. The numerous stories of petty crime we had heard from various quarters, both foreign and Mongolian now came bubbling to mind.


Characters in the crowd ranged from the usual to downright shifty including one young guy who wandered from corner to corner always looking in our direction and occasionally murmuring and motioning to us to an older swarthy man who came & went. Kathryn openly told him off when he started taking pictures of her on his phone. And perhaps there was some justification to our distrust as, after 2 1/2 hours of him not even looking like he had luggage let alone was catching a train, he followed us onto the platform until we decided to stop and stare at him. He didn't like the taste of his own medicine and slunk off back to the station. We got on the train.

On board we shuffled down the corridor with curiosity about who we were to share our 4 bed berth with. The guide books tell tales of Mongolian traders, Chinese business men and Russian soldiers. In our compartment were the two British guys from the last train. In fact almost the entire carriage was white, English-speaking tourists. The only exception were a group of Mongolian women who were busily trying to stuff multiple bottles of Chivas regal into everybody else's compartment but their own. We deposited it back into the corridor which they didn't seem to like. Even the train conductor seemed in on this pseudo-smuggling as she accepted boxes of chocolates and the like to take items on board. She was placing a used tire in a bin bag into our locker as we got on. None of this seemed to bother Simon & James, our British room-mates who, with typical British Imperial certainty, said "We can't get in trouble, it's not our stuff". They had obviously not seen 'Banged Up Abroad'. Perhaps with a little more distrust & Simon might still possess his wallet.

At twenty past nine we set off into the night towards the Russian border. As we travelled we learnt a bit more about the boys sharing our berth. Simon was coming home from a year living in China. Unfortunately his Chinese language skills we no longer of use in Mongolia but this didn't stop him from murmuring Chinese translations to things now and then. He was a keen rock-climber and outdoorsy type and was rarely without a drink in hand. He described his recent love life as being a big girl in the UK and a little girl in China. He was obviously missing the little girl in China so much he had to quickly go and find the Brisbane girls from the Intrepid group who had also joined the train. James, on the other hand, was a quintessential train-nerd. He carried a big camera that was more often pointed at engines than landscapes. His journal kept a dutiful note of the locomotives attached, detached and passed on the journey. Like the writer & publisher we had met earlier they were another odd-couple. James didn't drink beer or enjoy football but kept a written record of who owed who money. Simon was a picture with a large beer in hand, donned in a Man Utd jersey and unsure as to what day it was. What they did share was an odor - neither had showered for nearly a week. Kathryn was living in a pit of boy germs. But the boys were unfailing friendly, fun and great roommates. They had more naivety and adventurousness to them which was enjoyable to hear about. It was relaxing to not have worry about the safety of our too numerous gadgets and bags. We were happy to have them.

We were packed and ready to leave UB for a night in the Terelj National Park just as Kathryn was reaching breaking point with the city. The constant chaos was bedeviling her vigilance or paranoia, depending on your perspective. Unfortunately our pick-up was late as the driver 'forgot' to come and get us. This allowed us (or forced us, again depending on perspective) to take another quick turn around the streets of the capital while we waited. Along the way we made the following amusing observations that make UB unique:

1. SkyNet is not only here, but purportedly everywhere, since 2007. Those of you who know you're Terminator movies will appreciate that this is ominous. Although Judgment day was supposed to be during 2007 wasn't it?

2. There is a block of Lego. Nothing more, nothing less.

3. Both the statues of the revered Genghis (Chinggis) Khan and his pictured soon Kuble activate our cameras 'Blinked Eye Detected' function. This may have represented a case of commercial racism or maybe they just believe they're all blinking, a lot.

3. The fur-lined Ger tent is the traditional Mongolian home. Parked near our hotel was the traditional Mongolian mobile home.

4. You know that gunk you get stuck under your finger nails? We found where it comes from.

5. The Ulaanbaatar University is not necessarily on the same austere and grand level as Oxford or Cambridge.

6. The UB ski fields. All 5 runs.



Once our driver did arrive it allowed us a new perspective into Ulaanbaatar's traffic, this time from inside the storm. Driving involves a lot of mad swerving, horn blaring and driving into any spare area of space you can find, on either side of the road. Cars may be right or left hand drive. A pattern of driving did emerge to some extent, that being turn, look, brake suddenly, horn, accelerate hard, repeat.


By following this system we found our way out of UB and onto the road to Terelj. Along the way we got to see some of the surrounding suburbs consisting of modest wooden houses and dusty Gers all enclosed in frameworks of wooden fences. These surrounded each and every dwelling. Sometimes fences existed even without a dwelling. In fact fencing seemed such a priority that a single Ger was surrounded on 3 sides by a thick, six foot tall concrete wall. The fourth, road facing side, was left open, seemingly failing the defensive objective of the rest of the wall. But perhaps it is the prestige of such a wall is what really matters? If this is so then the Chinese had put the flame in front of the moth with their Great Wall. Genghis and friends couldn't resist: "Hey, Genghis, you know how good fences are right? Well you've got to come south and look what these Chinese have done. Bring your friends. There's a toboggan and everything" and off they'd ride to the terror of the Chinese.


As we approached and entered the park we encountered numerous forms of wild life including falcons, wild cows, horses, two-humped camels, sheep and dinosaurs. The landscape changed from flat tundra to hilly, mountainous with the first trees we'd see in 100's of kilometres. Amongst this were a number of rock formations resembling things that were pointed out to us - a pig, a turtle and a man praying (presumably for a really nice fence). Kathryn also managed to see several rocks that looked like poo's.


The change in topography was also heralded a change in temperature. It was actually cold for the first time so far. There was even snow, much to Kathryn's delight. The whole scenery was a pleasant change from the madness in the city and made the long travel worthwhile. The cold, vast openness was exactly the foreign, far-away landscape that one pictures when thinking of Mongolia. We were somewhere different.



Our hotel was an indulgence of luxury before two more nights sharing a compartment with who-knows who. And it may well be the nicest hotel in Mongolia. It was plush and luxurious from the lobby. A quick tour revealed a manner of assorted facilities including a library, a cigar room (where paradoxically one 'could enjoy cigars or the fresh mountain air'), indoor pool, a karaoke room, a statue of Lenin, a statue of a woman who never existed but served as an allegorical figure for the Soviets that Lenin produced, and even a gentlemen's club - unfortunately this went unvisited.



In return for the tardiness of the hotel's driver we were offered a free horse-ride which we took up. We imagined an hour or so touring around the surrounding hills and forest. Instead we were put aboard two 'mentally affected' horses (although this may have been due to Gavin's presence - a special power he has to make horses behave like somebody had lit them on fire) and lead for 5 minutes up and down the same road we'd come in on. Now technically we had ridden a horse so the hotel had fulfilled its promise of a 'horse ride'. Well hotel, with respect, shit-house.



In fairness the rest of the hotel and the staff were very nice and we had a good dinner of average Mongolian food including an accidentally ordered shot of vodka (yes, accidentally). Then came the spectacular awesomeness that is us in private Karaoke, much to the be/amusement of the hotel staff.





And finally back to our peculiarly small room, peculiar as with miles of empty space in every direction why would you cram a bed into a cupboard? Nonetheless we spent a short time watching the only English language television channel -Fashion TV, on which models strut around wearing almost nothing. We both found something to enjoy it. Now settled into our bijou luxury the sparks flew. No I don't mean whatever salacious innuendo you're assuming, I mean it literally. The static electricity was phenomenal. It had first been an issue in Beijing but here in Terelj it reached new heights. We became afraid to touch anything metal or each other for the fear of the visible sparks and loud crack of the current discharging from us. You had to make sure you were well earthed before any physical contact.