We were also surprised to find that we were sharing our compartment with another English couple and that our carriage was populated largely with other English speaking tourists. Speaking with some of our fellow passengers, we seem to have had an unusual experience in travelling on grotty, cramped trains with locals who spoke little English. Initially we felt rather puzzled and envious at the more comfortable, sociable experience that they seem to have had. But this was soon displaced by a satisfaction that we had done it the hard way, and were coming through the other end, having had a more genuine experience of Russian life.
We nevertheless gorged ourselves on conversation with our compatriots, like fast breakers at a banquet. Our companions Ricky and Lauren made us feel rather old (Ricky also works in the insurance industry, but I quickly realised he was still a twinkle in his parent's eyes when I started my career!), but they were good company nonetheless. They are also travelling overland from the UK towards Australia, though they had gone rather more quickly than us through Russia. As with many of the people in our carriage they were getting off at Ulaan Bataar for a few days before heading on to Beijing. It seems that we will be likely to see many of these people again in a few days on the next train.
In the morning at our first stop we bumped into Oliver and Iphy, our French Canadian friends from the previous train. They'd been camping at Lake Baikal and told an hilarious story of how Iffy'd had one of her shoes stolen by a dog - thankfully said shoe was eventually recovered with only minor bite marks! Oliver is writing a blog entitled www.synapticorgasm.com - check that one out if you dare!
The journey passed very sociably, though everyone was a little nervous about the border crossing. The train was scheduled to stop for 5 hours at the Russian border and a further 3 hours at the first stop in Mongolia, though everyone seemed to have heard stories of it taking even longer than this for no apparent reason.
One good thing we will say about Russian trains, is that they have been extremely punctual, nearly always leaving precisely on schedule. At the border crossing they were again true to their word, though there was some panic when we realised that the 3 Spanish guys in the next compartment hadn't returned to the train with departure imminent. It seems that their visas had expired the day before and the Russian police clearly decided to frighten them (with some success) by holding them in a room until the last minute.
So, we spent 5 hours in Naushki, the little border town, which comprised a few dirt roads, a few hundred houses and barely any facilities. Our passports were taken from us and we were all told to leave the train. We stood on the platform watching the train, together with most of our possessions, chugging off into the distance and contemplating what life would be like in a two-bit town like this. We spotted a barren hill at the southern end of town and scrambled up it. We were rewarded with great views over the area and unexpectedly found a beautiful grave-yard on the top, with many ornate gravestones and freshly laid flowers. Back in the town, we found a small shop and bought some beer, vodka and cakes, to help us through the next few hours, with some of the last of our roubles.
Eventually, in the last of the daylight, we left Russia (now we noticed with a Mongolian engine proudly pulling the train) and tentatively trundled onto Mongolian soil. We continued to follow the Selenga river, which had been our companion for most of the day. It was particularly beautiful at this point: fast flowing through lush meadows and woods, with the setting sun casting it with golden and pink hues. We raised our glasses to the Russia that we had left behind and to our Mongolian experience, which was about to unfold.
We can tell you straight away, that our time in Mongolia was hugely enjoyable, if too short to do it justice. Our time was made particularly memorable by our guide and driver for the 3 days, Tumen and Jaga - who felt like old friends by the end. They were waiting for us as we got off the train at 6.00 a.m. and we were whisked off in a comfortable Landcruiser, for one of our stranger experiences: an early morning whistle stop sightseeing tour of a largely deserted Ulaan Bataar (called UB by the locals). We climbed some steep steps (racing an old guy in a track suit who was using this as his morning exercise regime) to the Zaisan Monument, with panoramic views over the city; took in the main Sukhebaatar square overlooked by the newly rebuilt National Assembly and visited the Gaandaan Buddhist temple. UB felt calm and clean at this time of the morning, but we also saw the huge amount of building work going on, with modern, multi-storied offices and apartment blocks rising everywhere. Prominent amongst these is the newly-completed iconic glass curves of the 'sword' building which is the home of Rio Tinto with whom the Mongolian government has signed large-scale mining agreements.
We managed all this, before breakfast and were heading out of the city as the morning rush hour was getting started building up in the other direction.
As we headed out of UB, Tumen (who spoke faultless English) demonstrated his encyclopedic knowledge of Mongolia and UB, as well as a great interest about life in the UK. Mongolia has, we gather, the fastest growing economy in the world right now and is dominated by UB, whose population has grown very quickly in recent times from 300,000 to 1,000,000 and one third of all Mongolians now live here. How they manage this, we can't fathom: it is also the world's coldest capital city, with temperatures dropping to -40 C in the winter!
Tumen is studying for an Economics degree when he is not moonlighting as a tour guide and has already completed a year's service in the Mongolian army, so we believed him on these points. The conversation was very formal initially, until Jaga (who with very limited English was probably bored with the conversation), tuned into a local folk radio station and sang loudly along in a warbling baritone: this lightened the tone considerably and we were in good spirits as we drove along on a clear blue day.
The road alternated from smooth newly laid tarmac, to rutted dust track. Just when we least expected it, we veered off the road onto what looked like a farm track and 10 bumpy kilometres later we arrived in the Hustai National Park. Our 'Ger Camp' sat right at the outside and initially, we have to say, we were disappointed. We'd been expecting something very small scale, probably staying with a Mongolian family; what we found was 35 identical gers in 7 rows of 5 and an ugly brick outbuilding where food was served. But it grew on us, particularly as we started to appreciate the vast, rugged isolation of the Steppe. This is a harsh, unforgiving landscape, but with an other worldly peace and beauty.
On our second day, we drove around the park. For most of the time, there was not a single person or car in sight and the silence absorbed us. On first sight, it was hard to believe anything was living here, but we spotted lots of wildlife, including the Takhi horses (which are unique to this park and for which it is famous), deer, marmots, yak, eagles and vultures.
On our final day, we headed off to the other side of UB, to a different ger camp. There was less of interest to see here, but it had a relaxed atmosphere of its own. On all nights, with clear skies and being miles from the nearest habitation and at a 1500m altitude, we were treated to magnificent starry night skies. Temperatures dropped well below freezing as a result, but we lit the wood-burning stoves in our gers and were cozily warm provided we didn't make the mistake of letting it go out.
So, as we leave Mongolia for China, we wish that we could have spent a few more days here, in the countryside, but also in UB, which we haven't really experienced. It is clearly a proud country, which will continue to grow both in population and economic terms, particularly with its abundance of mineral resources. The traditional nomadic lifestyle can clearly be brutal, but also seems to be unique as far as we have seen and is accompanied by tremendous freedom and a life in harmony with an often pristine environment. We can't help but be worried that this will be discarded in favour of a seductive, saccharine western lifestyle and that what they lose won't become apparent until it is too late.
Sandwiched between Russia and China, it is not a surprise that they are fiercely independent. What surprised us a little more, is that they seem to identify more closely with Russia than China. Maybe that is because China casts a greater shadow over them, but it is clear that there is no love lost from the Mongolians to the Chinese.
So, we head south to China. The prospect is exciting and frightening in the same breath. By the time you are reading this, we will have arrived, but we will tell you more of that in our next post.
Please excuse the length of this post, but there seems so much to say. Below are some pictures from our time in the Mongolian Steppe.
Marmots in the Park
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Andy, Sue, all looks fantastic. I'll buy Gaynor a Ger for Christmas - I can sleep it when she throws me out. Funny to think the Mongols once ruled a lot of China, Russia and Eastern Europe. I hear they used to cook their meat by putting it under their thigh then holding it there all day while they road about on horseback; I trust you've tried this local delicacy? Chris
ReplyDeleteLoving the blog but have to say that the Mongolian pics are the most inspirational of the lot so far. I want a ger for C'mas too so Chris, if Gaynor doesn't like hers send it over to me!
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