Ganja on the Yangtse

On Saturday 12th October, we sadly left Wudang Shan, but looking forward to our upcoming 2 day / 3 night ferry down the Yangtse. We took a brief detour on the way down to see the Purple Heaven Palace, a beautiful Buddhist temple complex, nestled into the forested hillside. It was a good time to see it, coinciding as it did with morning ceremonies and the atmosphere was a heady mix of burning incense, chanting, tinkling of cymbals and the solemn faces of the saffron and burgundy robed monks.

The Purple Heaven Palace on the lower slopes of Wudang Shan

Preparing for the morning mantras at the Purple Heaven Palace

Before getting onto the boat, we had pretty much 2 full days on the road. The first took us through more mountain scenery, eventually descending into fertile agricultural land, with rice paddies cascading down the hillsides. We stopped at a service station for what is becoming our ritual lunchtime stop. We typically get a buffet lunch, with rice and a variety of meat and vegetable dishes, though I use the term meat loosely, because very often it is mostly bone and gristle, swimming in a cocktail of oil and chillies! As we head south and west, the food is getting more and more spicy and we have to watch carefully for the lethal little peppercorns which leave the mouth fizzy and numb: chewing a couple of these would render a trip to the dentist entirely pain free!

In the late afternoon, we arrived in the city of Yichang and our first glimpse of the Yangtse. It is a city of some 4 million people, described as 'drab and hum-drum' by the Lonely Planet. Fortunately, as often, they are off the mark and it turns out to be a good place to spend the night, with a nice promenade along the river, a spectacular new suspension bridge and a lively centre with lots of restaurants, bars and shops. We also have a comfortable, clean, modern hotel for the night which always helps. We mainly spent our time, stocking up with provisions at a large new supermarket. To our delight they stocked things that we hadn't seen since arriving in China, including bread, cheese and coffee.

The next day we had a longer drive then expected, due east to Wanzhou to pick up the ferry. Because of the mountainous terrain, the motorway heads north-east before curving back south east to re-join the river. The main interest, is some of the feats of engineering: long tunnels through the rock and one modern bridge after another, either crossing gorges, or a river. The Chinese must, surely be the great bridge builders of our times.

We eventually arrived and boarded our ferry at after 8pm, for a 9pm sailing and we are in for a pretty tough few days. The boat is a hell hole, rammed with noisy Chinese tourists and us, probably the lowest class ferry still in service on the Yangtse! We shared a cabin with Michelle and Geoff, which was just about big enough for 2 pairs of bunk beds and a filthy squat toilet / shower which reeks - and it would take great courage to use either. We cleaned it the best we could, but to no great effect.

Later that night we noticed a pungent, sweet smell coming from a gap in the wall to next door's cabin (and as we had the end cabin, concluded that it could only be the staff quarters). We quickly realised that this was marijuana. We were not sure whether to be more worried by the state of the boat, or the fact that at least some of the crew were stoned, but at least it overpowered the smell from the toilet and we drifted off into the sweetest of dreams!

In the morning, the boat passed through Qutang, the first of the famous Three Gorges, but the 2 small observation decks are crammed full, each with a Chinese tour guide bellowing into a megaphone and we crouched below deck by a tiny port hole (or should that be pot hole?!) and saw a little of the towering cliff tops slide by the rubbish strewn Yangtse.

In the afternoon, the boat docked for 4 hours and, with most of the rest of our group, we decided to go on a side excursion on a smaller boat up a tributary of The Yangtse, which runs through very similar terrain. The views from the boat were indeed spectacular, with cliff tops towering sharply hundreds of metres above us, punctuated by small farming communities and the occasional stop for tourists. Unfortunately, there was a huge BUT. The smaller boat was just as crammed and came with a Chinese guide who shouted into a microphone incessantly, pausing for breath just once for 5 minutes in each direction. This was relayed on loudspeakers throughout the boat at ear-drum shattering volume and there was no escape from the din. The Chinese loved it and shouted and chered and laughed and took pictures of one another. Poor Sue put her ipod on full volume to try and muffle the noise a little and curled up in a corner to try and insulate herself from it, but the whole experience was quite traumatic for her.

Bizarrely, half way through the trip we stopped at a jetty and were transferred to a series of flat-bottomed gondolas and were punted along into a small cove, whilst a guide dressed up as a mythological creature sung folk songs to us. This sounds like it might be quite enchanting, but even he, on a boat with about 20 people in a serenely quiet spot, needed a microphone to pump up the volume. Just when we thought it couldn't get any stranger, a few more costumes were found and every Chinese person on the boat had to dress up and have their photo taken in return for a few yuan to the guide.

On the second day, the boat docked early in the morning at a peaceful little village. On one side of the pontoon, however was docked a flotilla of gaudily painted dragon boats. Our boat largely emptied in a few minutes and poured onto a series of these to head off on a 2 hour backwater tour. We had learnt our lesson from the previous day's experience and opted out. Instead we wandered into the village, which was quite charming, with lovely views down onto the Yangtse and the mountains beyond. We found a small restaurant and, though they understood no English, managed to get ourselves a tasty breakfast with noodle soup steamed vegetables and baked sweet-potato. This was, at least a small reprieve from the bedlam of the ferry.

In the afternoon, we docked again and were herded off on a series of buses to see the controversial Yangtse Dam. The whole tourist experience is clearly intended to sell the concept of the dam. We are fed a series of statistics about it's huge scale (the largest dam in the world, that will produce vast quantities of clean hydro-electric power etc) and I can't help thinking: 'there are lies, dam lies and statistics'!

We were not allowed onto the dam itself, but instead got taken to a series of arm's-length vista spots. The last was probably the nicest, viewing the dam from below from a newly created park featuring carp-filled ponds, lush vegetation and sculptures crafted from waste materials from the dam construction. We were assigned an English speaking guide, but her English was barely intelligible and she just wanted to bark out a series of statistics into a microphone at us. We managed to detach ourselves from the group, but felt a little sorry for her: our group was like trying to herd cats, compared to the orderly Chinese groups, who dutifully followed their flag-waving guide.

We came away from the tour really none the wiser on whether the dam should be applauded or decried. The sensible conclusion would seem to be that when the dam finally starts to produce its electricity (in 2014) the costs in terms of uprooting communities and other damage, will probably lead to a significant environmental positive.

Back to the boat and we had just one more night to get through, which was basically a non-stop downstream sail back to our starting point. A lot of people had got off, so we passed a quieter evening in the restaurant. All things are relative though and we were jointed at one point by some high-spirited Chinese guys who were on a holiday. We did a number of 'Gambeis' (formal toasts) with them, as they were determined that we tried their home-brewed, 12 year old rice wine. This was surprisingly smooth and we had a fun half-hour with them, though neither of us had any idea what the other was saying, much as our guide struggled to translate!

We arrived back to a rainy Wanzhou early the next morning, all pretty much bedraggled and worn-out by the experience. Time will tell whether we will look back on this as an unforgettable and privileged close-up experience of Chinese culture, but for the moment, it just feels like we sailed for 2 days, 3 nights through paradise spoiled.

Here are some pictures to give you a flavour

A view of our boat, during our peaceful interlude on the 2nd morning aboard

Our cabin toilet on the Yangste - only for the brave or need

 

The Qutang Gorge on the Yangtse

A scene from the Yangtse tributary (but we couldn't photograph the noise!)

Some Yangtse Kitsch - all aboard the dragon boats!

The Yangtse Dam from above.....

... And below

And finally...fresh Yangtse fish anyone?

 

Holy Mountain Hidden Dragon

We're a little behind with the blog right now due to a hectic schedule and difficulties in getting decent wireless to do our posts, but we will do our best to catch up! On 10th October, we headed out of Xi'an with our new companions for the 6 hour drive to the mountains of Wudang Shan - made famous by Ang Lee's film Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.

The road rose steadily as we headed out of Xi'an, with the cityscape replaced by more rural, mountainous scenery. The land looked dry, but fertile and the valleys were full of small to medium scale farmland with all manner of different vegetables and grains under cultivation. It was a good road and we made steady progress, with the views occasionally punctuated by long mountain tunnels.

The mood on the bus was good, with the group split pretty much 50/50 from those who had already been on board for a couple of weeks from Beijing (and therefore already in the rhythm) and those, like us, who had freshly joined in Xi'an. We just watch the scenery in the morning and then I joined a card school for a couple of hours in the afternoon.

The Wudang Shan area is heavily managed by the authorities and we had to leave the truck behind for the next couple of days at the base of the controlled area and join a tourist bus. This is ostensibly for environmental reasons, which makes a lot of sense, because there is a solitary tarmac road heading up the mountain and one can envisage it being grid-locked with cars. The tourist bus, wound it's way up through the lushly forested hillside and tea plantations which remind us of our time in southern India.

The road ran out at a small village, with a cluster of shops, hotels and restaurants and we had a couple of hours of daylight left to explore. Our hotel was back to basics again and rather dank after the luxury of Xi'an, but the clear mountain air more than made up for that. Just off the end of the road, we found a tunnel through the rock that ended at a dance-floor sized viewing platform that looks westwards over the valley, but surrounded by a horse-shoe shaped amphitheatre of jagged peaks. We stopped and watched the sun go down here and it was a truly beautiful spot, with only the occasional group of noisy locals coming in to spoil the peace.

Half an hour later, we realised why the platform was dance-floor shaped. A group of older Chinese people arrived with a babble of excitement. As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountain peaks extinguishing the light, the far wall was lit up with bulbs, giving the rock-face a turquoise and flame coloured hue. They set a ghetto-blaster down, switched on some traditional Chinese folk music and proceeded to tango gracefully around our viewing platform. We stood quietly in the shadows, hoping we wouldn't be asked to join in - this surely was one of those surreal experiences that makes travelling so memorable!

The Last Tango in Wudang

We rose bright and early the next day to make sure we got to enjoy our one full day in this place. Not only is it spectacularly beautiful, but it is the home of Tai Chi and one of the holies places for the Taoist religion and pilgrims come from all over China to climb to the summit. Our plan was to follow suit. The peak is at a little over 1,600 metres, which we didn't think sounded much, but because of the topography, the path rises up and down along steep concrete steps, so just when we thought we were making good progress, we would descend another 100 metres. It was also a hot, sunny day, but fortunately we were shaded most of the way by a dense canopy of trees, through which we occasionally saw amazing views.

The real treat though was the the succession of atmospheric old Taoist temples we came across as we walked, with wonderfully evocative names such as The Purple Heaven Palace, The Palace of Supreme Harmony, The First, Second and Third Heavenly Gate and the Ancient Bronze Hall and Golden Palace at the Heavenly Pillar Peak. One of the fundamental principles of the Taoist religion, is that of humanity and nature co-existing harmoniously and this felt most appropriate here. We barely spotted any non-Chinese people and though they were noisy and boisterous at times, it sort of added to the spirit here.

The Golden Palace at the summit was rammed with pilgrims and, though the views we're magnificent, we didn't linger for too long before starting our descent. We took our time coming down as we kept spotting exotic birds swooping through the treetops, including a pair of mating Stone Chats (or so we believe following subsequent investigation), who kept us entertained with their dancing displays for 20 minutes.

We stopped for a pot of tea on the way down at a little path-side stall and fell into conversation with two guys from the north east of China, one of whom spoke very good English. One of the difficulties in China can be having any meaningful conversation with local people, so it was nice to have 15 minutes talking with them.

Wudang Shan was our most enjoyable stop in China so far and we were both enchanted by the place, even if the full day hiking had stretched us physically. It is difficult to do justice to the beauty and atmosphere of the place with photographs, but hopefully these will give some smal impression.

 

A bonsai tree at our hotel in Wudang Shan

The end of the road and the start of the hiking trails to the Heavenly Pillar Peak

One of the many great views on the way to the way up

The path passes the Taoist Langmei Shrine

One of the steep bits (and no, that isn't Sue in the sedan chair)...

...and then a REALLY steep bit

The custodian of The Second Heavenly Gate

Looking down from the summit onto the Ancient Bronze Hall

Some locally grown herbal remedies for which the mountain is famous (anything for lactic acid build up?

Chinese translations can make the prosaic sound poetic!

And finally...canine conversations!

 

Travels with Archie

Archie is to be, probably, our most important travel companion for the 45 day trip from Xi'an to Bangkok. If you wonder why we didn't mention him when we introduced everyone on our last post, it is because he is a 30 foot long converted refrigeration truck. But we will be getting to know him rather well over the coming weeks, so we thought an introduction was warranted.

First off, it has to be admitted that Archie is one beaten, battered, hulk of a converted refrigeration truck. Made with sheets of steel crudely riveted together to withstand the most rutted of roads, he looks like he has dealt with some rough ones in his time. His lurid orange, black and white livery is dulled by the dust of the road, but still makes him stand out from the rest of the traffic like an old punk-rocker striding through gentile suburban streets, whilst simultaneously hiding his rusting body-work. This impression is bolstered by the great bumper grilles at the front, surmounted with a bull's skull and horns (apparently a relic of a recent journey through the Gobi Dessert) and, strapped to the rear, 4 hulking four foot diameter spare tyres and a cage filled with spare parts and accessories.

Even in these early stages of our journey, we can see that Archie turns heads like a long-legged blonde passing a building site: workers in the fields go into open-mouthed suspended animation, as if they have just spotted a UFO; service stations empty to find out what has arrived and everyone smiles and waves. Earlier, a car started to overtake us, then held level, before a grinning head popped out through the sun roof and started to take pictures. A short time later we were stopped by a policeman: he walked slowly around us, carefully inspecting every detail, then back at the front, he pulled out an I-phone and proceeded to take pictures of himself with an 'Archie backdrop'.

On board, old coach seats have been bolted into the chassis: 5 'bad-boy seats' in a row at the back; followed by the 'social seats' (2 sets of 4 facing one another across a table, just waiting for a card-school); then 3 forward facing pairs before the cockpit (with 2 throne seats, a man-sized steering wheel and the most basic of consoles) which gladiatorially faces the road through a vast expanse of, occasionally stone chipped, windscreen.

In the middle, the seats are punctuated by two large cold-boxes, liberally filled with beers, soft-drinks, fruit and other perishables, ensuring that Archie retains at least an element of his former life. The interior roof is adorned with flags of the various countries he has vanquished; loud-speakers that allows I-pod music to be pumped through; travel-themed quotes from various wits and sages and webbed racking that gives it the vague feeling of a troop-carrier. Between the cockpit and seating, a half wall is pinned with maps, timetables and truck duty rotas (in recognition of her talents in this area, Sue has been assigned to scrubbing the floor for the first week).

Which leaves us with the most important component of all, being 13 passengers and 3 guides / drivers / mechanics, reading, slumbering and watching the world go by as we meander our way south-westwards through China. More of that journey to come, but in the meantime here are some pictures of Archie and his many admirers!

Here's Archie!

Archie turning heads - well one anyway!

Drawing a crowd

Even the cows are curious.

 

Monks, warriors and imperial dynasties.

After the initial culture shock of arriving in Beijing, we now started our journey deeper into China. Our first step was to head 680 miles south-east of Beijing on (you've guessed it) another over-night train. Fortunately, after a stressful start (Beijing West Station is architecturally stunning, but pure bedlam inside), the train turned out to be very comfortable with much more space then it's Russian counterpart, with carpeted floor and clean toilets and wash basins and we spent a reasonabe night on board.

This is the last leg of our journey alone, before we start our 46 day marathon overland trip from Xi'an to Bangkok. The prospect of joining a group was very much on our minds as we arrived, but we had the whole day to ourselves before joining the group. We were delighted to find that our hotel for the next 2 nights, was a peaceful haven. Although very much a (Chinese) tourist hotel, it was built around a small lake with peacocks, swans and ducks all making this their home. We found ourselves a comfortable seat by the water and could easily have stayed there for the next 2 days.

Our haven at the Xi'an Garden Hotel - 8th October

We realised, however, that we were literally a stone's throw from one of the holiest Buddhist sites in China, the Big Goose Pagoda, and this was too much to miss out on. It dates from the 7th Century, and was used to house and translate sutras that had been brought back from India. The Pagoda itself is an iconic multi-tiered tower that continues to dominate the sky line for miles around, but we also enjoyed just wandering around the peaceful, monastery complex that surrounds it.

Peace for us, by the way, is already feeling like rain to the desert: Chinese streets are incredibly noisy places. Every shop seems to have someone standing outside shouting into a megaphone. Retail marketing seems to consist of shouting louder than your competitor and this has to compete with general hubbub of the streets and the constant sound of hawking and spitting, which I suspect we are never going to get used to!

The Big Goose Pagoda

But going back to the Pagoda, it was interesting that an old religious monument like this has been allowed to maintain so prominent a position in such a large and fast growing city. By most estimates, Xi'an is now home to more than 8 million people, making it a similar size to London. For such a large city, though, it retains a slightly calmer feel than Beijing. It is also very proud of its historical heritage. Our taxi driver from the station (who spoke excellent English, because he doubled as a tour guide), took great delight in telling us that Xi'an had been home to 13 imperial dynasties - compared to Beijing's paltry 2! We haven't been able to corroborate this, but Xi'an certainly has a grand history with the first unifier and emperor of China (Qin Shi Huang), basing his capital close to the current Xi'an.

Which brings us to the Terracotta Warriors, which were unearthed a few kilometres from the city and are the main tourist draw here. Qin Shi Huang demonstrated a jaw dropping spiritual arrogance, by commissioning the building of an army of several thousand life sized warriors (including horses, chariots and all the accoutrements of an army), to guard him and his position as Emperor in the afterlife. We visited the site on our second day in Xian. Whilst it is an amazing site, we had probably set our expectations too high and had already seen a small sample of the warriors at an exhibition in London in 2010. This, combined with the rather prosaic setting of the main archeological site in a huge aircraft-style hangar, left us slightly under-whelmed.

The main excavation site, with many more warriors still to be unearthed

 

 

Each warrior intricately carved and unique

By this time we had already met our group for the next few weeks and we seem to have an interesting mix of people. Our driver mechanic Jim hails all the way from Cranbrook in Kent and has been travelling on these trips with Gino our Spanish guide for the last 2 years with barely a break and they have taken the truck all over Africa and Asia in that time. For the first half of the trip, we also have Jason, a Chinese guide. The rest of the group comprises: Brandon and Travis, 2 young South African students taking a break before university; Shay and Til, 2Australian sisters taking a career break (one is a teacher, the other an IT contractor); Geoff and Michelle, an Australian couple taking a 5 week holiday (she works for a charity, he runs the IT support for a bank); Addy, a young Dutch law graduate, taking a year's break before starting a law career; Emma, an educational psychologist from Essex taking a career break; Sara, an accountant from Trinidad also taking a year's holiday; Kevin, another accountant, this time from Belgium who is just taking a 3 week holiday and is only with us for the first half of the trip; James an Aussie construction engineer, who has been travelling for some time in Europe and whose girlfriend is joining us for the second half of the trip and last but not least John, a semi-retired Canadian, who is very sensibly skipping a hard Canadian winter in more southern climes. So, we have 9 nationalities and ages ranging from 18 upwards, which is quite a melting pot.

On our next post, we will tell you something about our mode of transport for the next 46 days and our first steps with the group.

 

Arrival in the Middle Kingdom

Our journey into China started with an early rise: up at 4am for a 4.50 departure from our ger. The frosted grass scrunched under our feet, with a brilliant starry sky above as we carried our packs groggily to our car. We had a convoy of two vehicles heading for the train and with a small delay getting everyone together, we just leant back and looked up at the sky, the Milky Way seemingly in touching distance.

We drove for 20 minutes through pitch black along bumpy desert roads, hoping that our driver knew which way the road went, and then we were back on the outskirts of a sleeping Ulaan Baatar. We were early at the station and sat in the warmth of the car until we needed to go, watching people whom we recognised from our last train arriving.

On board we found ourself in the middle of the 'vodka train' group - a dozen young, boisterous, hard-drinking Aussie and British guys who had been doing the Trans-Siberian in rather different style to us! Somehow, our compartment ended up being the vodka train's card playing compartment. Poor Sue ended up taking refuge on the upper bunk and watched the scenery go by whilst plugged into her iPod, whilst the card school went on below. Fortunately, they turned out to be a decent bunch and the time on the train went by smoothly as we headed along to the Chinese border.

The border crossing turned out to be another extended affair, with multiple passport checks from both sides, with the added necessity of 'changing our bogies'. A little known fact, is that the Russians were so worried about being invaded in the late 19th century that they decided to make their railway gauge a few inches wider then the convention in Europe and the rest of the world and the Mongolians,wanting to improve relations with Russia, followed suit - clever at the time, but infuriating for future generations of travellers!

So, at the border, we pulled into a huge warehouse, populated by a uniformed work-force in bright red and yellow hard hats. Each carriage was detached, hoisted onto hydraulic jacks, bogies unbolted, rolled away and replaced with a new narrower version. All this and we never left the train!

We woke in the morning and immediately it felt different. From the sparsely populated Mongolia, we were now in much more industrial and populated landscapes. As we passed through stations, officials stood starchily to attention on pristine stations. The train was due due in Beijing mid afternoon and from late morning, we climbed into dramatic mountain scenery, passing through a series of tunnels for more than an hour, emerging each time onto track carved along a ledge on the rock, with peaks rising high above us and sparkling rivers and streams below us on the valley floors. At one point, we rounded a corner and caught our brief first glimpses of The Great Wall, majestically riding the contours of the hillside.

In Beijing, we waved goodbye to our 'vodka buddies' and everyone dispersed into the throng. Arriving in Beijing is daunting, with the big noisy crowds and the alien signs, which leave us with little clue as to their meaning (though for those interested, see a short lecture by Shao Lan: learn to read Chinese...with ease on www.ted.com - also very funny). Our hotel, was close to the station, which was a relief, but getting around was difficult - we had to abandon a dinner reservation on our first night, because we couldn't find the restaurant!

Beijing has been an interesting if sometimes stressful experience and we have emerged a little confused by the seemingly paradoxical nature of so many things here, uncertain if we have even scratched the service of understanding it. There seems to be a tug of war between ancient and modern, for example. We were probably most interested in the historical sites and the Forbidden City, Great Wall and the Summer Palace in particular were each awe inspiring in their different ways. But just as remarkable were the broad avenues and great modern buildings that dominate at least the centre of the city, many of which would not look out of place in Western cities, whilst others have touches of older, oriental influence, such as the towering Beijing West Station, which is crowned by ornate, traditional gilded roofing. These have clearly sprung up incredibly quickly, leaving only small pockets of the old 'hutongs' guiltily hidden away off side streets when least expected. These tend now to be preserved mainly for tourists, otherwise they would surely disappear altogether.

Oh and then there is the pollution! On the one hand, the streets are dotted with neatly manicured gardens, colourful flower displays and there is no graffiti in sight anywhere, on the other, the air is so dirty that it stings the back of the throat, choaks the lungs and casts everything in a murky shroud with the sun struggling to shine through, even on a sunny day.

The people have generally been very friendly here and with their industrious nature, it is easy to see why the economy is thriving: also helped by a voracious appetite for consuming and an intense brand awareness, which at least matches what we have in the UK. But under the surface, there is also a sense of restraint. It has been the National Day Holiday whilst we have been here and thousands of people have been on the street, particularly around Tiananmen Square. But the crowds were watched closely by hundreds of police and army officials, who seemed to be on every corner. It was also evident that internet usage is carefully restricted and we have had great difficulty continuing to post this blog: having to subscribe to a VPN to allow us to do so, as Google is generally blocked.

For much of the time here, we have been a source of much curiosity and amusement to the locals. On several occasions, we were approached at tourist sites with a polite request for someone to have their photograph taken with us. And how the Chinese love to have their photographs taken: in front of every monument and viewpoint there is a throng of locals posing theatrically for pictures, accompanied by a hubbub of instructions on how to optimise the shot.

Restaurants have been another place where we have attracted much attention. Basically because we have usually been clueless about what we have been ordering and sadly lacking in chopstick skills and etiquette (though thankfully, we have avoided the faux pas of leaving our chopsticks stuck into the rice, which can apparently confer severe misfortune on the restauranteur!). Even with this ordering in the dark, we have generally eaten well and cheaply in Beijing and have even succeeded on occasion in using said chopsticks to transport food from bowl to mouth!

In summary, it has felt like a great privilege to have been in Beijing in times of such great change. It is clear even from being here for just a few days, that China is destined to be the great power of the 21st century, but it will be most interesting to see how it's society continues to change in the coming years and how it will influence and be influenced by prevailing Western culture.

We now move onto Xi'an, the ancient capital of China and then on into more of the rural heartlands of China, which will no doubt give us a very different perspective. We hope that we will be able to maintain the blog whilst we are travelling these paths over the next few weeks, but it is possible that posts may become a little more sporadic.

In the meantime, here are some photos from our 3 days in Beijing.

Welcome to Beijing - our point of arrival at the Central Station

National Day crowds on Tiananmen Square (note how the air quality limits visibility)

A guard in front of the Forbidden City

A noisy throng in front of the Gate of Heavenly Peace in the Forbidden City

Us on the Great Wall (thanks Ken!)

The Great Wall at Mutiyanyu

Buddhist temples on Longevity Hill in the grounds of the Summer Palace

And finally, the obvious thing to put on a beautiful lake, dotted with ancient temples and pagodas, is a 20 foot high inflatable yellow duck!

And finally, finally...no comment required!

 

A Steppe into Mongolia

It was late night in Irkutsk, our last night in Russia, and we were girding ourselves for the worst that Russian railways could throw our way: 2 nights aboard and a border crossing thrown in for good measure. After weeks of moaning about the Trans Siberian trains, we are delighted to report that we found ourselves aboard a modern carriage, with comfortable seats, cleaner toilets and windows that were clean enough to see out of!

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.

Main Street Naushki

The border town of Naushki - only 5 hours to kill here!

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.

Atop the Zaisan Monument in Ulaan Baatar

A lone worker pays homage to Genghis Khan at the National Assembly in UB

Pidgeon Worrying at the Gaandaan Buddhist temple in UB

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.

Our ger camp for a couple of nights

Inside our ger - it felt like sleeping in a mini circus big top!

Out in the Hustai Park with our guide and driver Tumen and Jaga

Marmots in the Park

Wild Takhi horses in the Park (they were once thought extinct and now there are still only 300 of them left - all in the Hustai Park)

Wild deer in the Park

A horse herdsman - 15% of the population still live a nomadic lifestyle

A functioning traditional ger camp

Cattle herding in the Park

The Elstei ger camp - our home for the 3rd and final night of our time in Mongolia

 

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