Quite an early start for this one, train departure at 6.15am. In the mostly dark, we hauled our luggage onto a sleeping train. Our carriage was easy to spot, the only Mongolian carriage amongst all the Russian carriages. It was also exclusively for white foreigners. Our cabin buddies were asleep, so we made up our beds and climbed in a few extra zzz's ourselves. It was a pretty lazy morning, the usual train activities, reading, sleeping, eating and staring out the window. Around 1pm we arrive at the Russian border. Our bags and cabin are checked by customs officials and then our passports & visas examined. After the formalities are completed, we are free to leave the train and explore. At this point we are quite a few carriages less than when we departed in Ulan Ude and our carriage is the only one that has passengers. Along with a group of young European backpackers, including our French cabin buddies, we walked the 10minutes to the village to find the 'supermarket'. And just like every other border town, there was nothing pretty about this one. We felt somewhat older than our current companions, a detail highlighted at the local store. While we purchased bananas, yogurt and biscuits, they were buying vodka and beer for the train that night. Steph brought brought an ice-cream, however, decided that the crumb on the outside looked suspiciously like biscuits and gave it to a delighted bunch of school kids. The carriage conductor had advised we had 3 hours, our little excursion lasted about an hour and when we returned our little Mongolian carriage was no where in sight. A nervous 20minutes later in trundles back onto the platform after a trip to the work-shed to have its bogies changed. We get back on and spend a further agonising 2 hours going no where. We finally crawl out of the station at 5pm, 4 hours in total at the Russian border. We then move very slowly to the Mongolian side of the border. It takes an hour to cover the 21km. We pull up in front of the station and there are a variety of official looking uniforms walking around. One of the uniforms, a lady with a large secure briefcase appears on the platform and boards the train. Our passports are collected and presumably placed in said suitcase which is then taken into the station building. Anther round of cabin and baggage checks and an hour later, the suitcase makes it's way back across the platform and onto the train. Our passports are returned, a few more stamps and we are now officially in Mongolia. And allowed to leave the carriage. We are told that we have one hour. We eagerly jump of the train and are greeted by the most bizarre sight - our little Mongolian carriage stands alone. Not a single other carriage or locomotive in sight. Our Russian train has departed back to Russian and I guess we have to wait to be connected to a Mongolian train heading south. The station has nothing to offer, so we venture off into the streets and go into the first food establishment we see. They have English translations in the menu. First on the list, beef with 5 organs. This does nothing to alleviate Bevan's anxiety about the potential diet for the next week. We opted for the safe fried potato and rice with egg. As the one hour deadline approached, we ran back to the station and onto on carriage, which now had now been connected with some friends. There was a heart-racing moment as we first entered the platform area as the train on the first track did not have our train number on it. We quickly remembered that our carriage was on the next track over, we ran around and enormous relief to see our carriage! We need not have rushed though, it was another hour before we left. 3 hours at the Mongolian border, a total of 7 hours at the two checkpoints. Almost enough time to get through War and Peace!
Again, the difference in age was highlighted when we climbed into bed and all the young ones congregated in another cabin to drink the copious amounts of vodka procured at the border. Fortunately, sleeping was not an issue and we didn't even hear our cabin buddies come into bed.
In what felt like the middle of the night, lights were turned on and the rustle of luggage ensued. We were arriving into Ulaanbaatar in the early hours. The lights of the city could be seen in the distance as we ambled along. By the time we arrived, it was
6am and the days first light was breaking over the horizon. A new day, a new city and a new country. But first, coffee!
