Ger

For the next 21 miles, we would travel through a kind of 'no man's land', which, really seems like it's more run by Russia as there was one more checkpoint with Russian soldiers looking on before we were on the other side and surrounded by Mongolian police. All had strong Asian features, and bam, just like that, the ethnicities changed. As did demeanor. Friendly, disarming with a warm sense of humor, the Mongolians couldn't have been more different. A winsome group of people where one man even ASKED Sarah to take a photograph of him. Customs and Passport Control couldn't have been any more different either. Time in and out: 35 minutes.

But also for some strange reason as the ethnicities changed abruptly, so did the insect situation. So much so, that the first station we pulled into in Mongolia, Andy thought that the newfound warmness was contagious as it seemed everyone was waving at the arriving train. When the train stopped, we quickly realized what it was. Mosquitoes. Tons of them started filling the cabins. There goes our windows down/fresh air idea we thought. Luckily Sarah had the idea of putting our mosquito netting over the window and we had a very peaceful night's sleep.

We awoke to the gorgeous plains (and thus now radically different landscape) of Mongolia complemented by a stunning orange sunrise. We could occasionally see Gers (the circular felt tents of the traditional nomads) popping up every now and then as well as cattle and herders themselves in the most random/isolated of places.

After passing what we were told was a 'Ger suburb' oustide of Ulan Bataar, we finally pulled into the capital itself at about 8:30AM.

It is a charming city because of its people and history even if the infrastructure itself appears to be in rubble. We checked out their 'State Department Store' which was pretty desolate on the first floors with much more upkeep and activity on the top floor where all the Mongolian souvenirs are sold.

Lunch included the dish that would recur many times over on our visit: Mutton. This time it was in the form of a stew. We also had Mongolian tea, which really more like hot milk with a little salt. Both were quite palatable and shockingly (for us European travelers) cheap. -- around $4 USD for lunch for the two of us.


With our group came the luxury of planned transfers. This one involved taking us to a more remote section outside of Ulan Bataar where we would spend one night under the stars in a felt ger tent ourselves and meet a few of the local nomads. On the way, we managed to ride camels (they are in fact used here for their hair, milk and transport) and Andy held a white-tailed hunting eagle, a descendent of a more famous local hunting eagle, and this one we were told had recently killed many rodents and 'beavers' that winter.

We met a nomad family, but in this case, use the word "nomad" loosely since their winter camp was a mere 50 feet away, but they still said they wouldn't trade the outdoors, fresh air and milk for anything else. We sampled a staggering array of cheese, cheese curds, milk, and milk products. Even snuff. Some of the curds were quite nice but there were a couple that the sour scale was off the charts and practically inedible for us. The next day we also tried "Airag," which is the famous traditional fermented mare's milk. Two in our group loved it, but we and Andy in particular had a hard time keeping it down, especially attempting to drink the entire bowl offered him so as do as his hosts. He was just praying he wouldn't give the ultimate insult of it coming back up and onto on the floor! Truth was, we'd drink the regular mare's milk anyday -- it was quite full and refreshing.

There was also a "mock" Nadeem festival --- archery, trick horseriding and Mongolian wrestling with the last man standing doing the eagle dance, the Mongolian equivalent to a WWF Smackdown victory dance.


Horse riding was a highlight although Andy's at one point got rebellious and stuck his head into a boulder crevace and wouldn't budge for several minutes. The guide freed him and said he does that sometimes with foreigners, not Mongolians. Sarah got a similarly difficult horse, but at the end she traded with the guide's and immediately it took off on a full gallop. The only thing the guide was afraid about was the clothesline tether ropes which were quickly approaching. What would prove to be more fatal than the ride for Sarah would be the mounting itself, during which the entire back seam of her pants ripped wide open almost as if in a Three Stooges movie.




Back in Ulan Bataar the next day, we went to a crazy market where we were countlessly warned about brazen pickpockets who would work in teams to grab your arms while another went in for your pockets. So, after leaving all our valuables at the hotel, the only suspicious activity we found was a veiled woman with 5 young men around her following Andy closely from behind. When he stopped to let them pass, they all did a U-turn and scurried. They would have only gotten about $10 USD anyway.
The final leg of the Trans-Mongolian is tomorrow. Ulan-Bataar to Beijing, China. A two/three day journey that will take us through the heart of the Gobi desert and a border crossing where they actually lift the train carriages and change the wheels underneath to fit the more narrow Chinese tracks.

The train leaves to traverse the Mongolian steppes at 8am.