19 November 2014

Week 112 - Beijing, Ulaanbaatar, Semi Gobi, Terelj (China, Mongolia)

Our train left Beijing just before midday to begin the Trans Mongolian leg of our journey. Excited, we dropped our bags in our cabin and headed to the front of the train to take some photos. The train was pretty empty and until we reached the China border we had the cabin to ourselves. We whiled away the hours reading, watching the world go by and enjoying the included, basic lunch and dinner in the dining cabin. From the craggy mountains around Beijing, the landscape flattened as we headed towards Inner Mongolia. We reached the neon lights of the border at Erlyan just before 10pm.
Waiting for the train to leave, Beijing.
After the guard collected our passports, the train started moving again and we found ourselves in the sheds. The Chinese railway system operates on standard gauge which is 3.5 inches narrower than the five foot gauge in Mongolia and the former Soviet Union. Once in the shed, all the carriages were separated and while we peered through the tiny window at the end of ours, giant hydraulic lifts raised the carriages and the bogies (undercarriage) were rolled out and replaced. After we’d been lowered back to the track, the train returned to the platform and our passports were returned. All up, the process took about 3 hours.
Watching the bogies being changed, Erlyan.
The train left Erlyan and 30 minutes later we rolled into Dzamyn-Ude, the Mongolian border. Customs officials collected our passports again and after they were returned, we settled down to get some sleep. Just our luck that the guy who had joined us at Erlyan was a snorer and a fitful nights sleep ensued. At one point I had to wake him up to ask him to roll over and Rhys had to keep slamming the door to make enough noise to stir him. 

The train continued through the night and when we woke we found ourselves in the Gobi Desert. Although the train tracks don’t pass the huge rolling sand dunes that you’d expect to see in a desert (sand dunes only cover 5% of the Gobi), the views were spectacular with vast, endless grassy steppes and sky of the clearest blue, seemingly brighter and crisper than normal. The Gobi stretches 1000km north to south and 2400km west to east and lies in the rain shadow of the Himalayas. The Gobi is a cold desert and it’s not unusual to see frost and snow on the dunes. We passed scattered ger, tents inhabited by Mongolian nomadic herders and herds of cashmere goats, sheep, really fluffy horses, cows and a few camels.
Train ride through the Gobi, approaching Ulaanbaatar.
Rhys discovered a window near the back of the train that we could open to take some photos (the train windows were filthy) and we took it in turns to wander back there through the twenty or so doors that separate each carriage, passed the coal burners that heat the rooms and the water.

We arrived in to Ulaanbaatar in the late afternoon and were collected from the station by our hostel, Sunpath. We checked in to our warm, cozy room and took warm showers before heading out to find a cash point and a mini market. It was much colder than it had been in Beijing and after a quick visit to the Sukhe Bator Square in the heart of the city, dominated by the Parliament House, we hurried back to the hostel. The city is the coldest capital city in the world with average annual temperatures of -1.4C (plunging to -30C in winter) but has 260 days of sun each year meaning it is crisp and blue rather than grey and miserable.
Parliament House, Sukhe Bator Square, Ulaanbaatar.
We’d booked into the hostel mainly because it’s tours get rave reviews and with limited time in Mongolia and knowledge that the roads and public transport are sketchy at best, we decided a tour would maximise what we could see. You don’t want to be standing by the roadside in the middle of nowhere, in temperatures below freezing, hoping a bus will come that for some unknown reason decides not to run that day.

At 8:30am we were up, packed and ready to head out. We met our tour guide and driver and were excited to see we’d be traveling in a old Russian van, a UAZ-452. With 6 seats in the back we had plenty of room and the windows allowed us 180 degree views as we drove along the bumpy roads. The heater was roaring the whole time and we were toasty inside and made ourselves at home. The vans are favoured by Sunpath as they are extremely reliable and the drivers are constantly cleaning and checking them over. 
Me and our van.
Mongolia has traditionally had a strong relationship with Russia and Soviet troops were deployed to help Mongolia following the 1919 Chinese invasion. Soviet influence soon became dominant. Wealth was redistributed, the nobility exterminated, religion suppressed, and Mongolian culture denied expression (Mongolian script was even replaced with Cyrillic as in Russia). The Stalinist repressions in Mongolia climaxed between 1937 and 1939 with the execution of 3% of the population and hundreds of temples and monasteries were destroyed with metal statues shipped to the USSR for scrap. Although the Russian presence had helped Outer Mongolia obtain independence from China, the history and culture was being erased. In 1992 a democratic constitution was adopted and Mongolia’s relationship with Russia weakened. 

Our guide told us that in the last 20 years, Mongolia has moved from a country of nomadic communism to democratic city dwellers with increased foreign investment, particularly in mines leading to less ground available to herders. Ulaanbaatar has changed dramatically. The population has increased and the city is now home to 40% of the Mongolian population (the total population of Mongolia is 2.8mil, just shy of the 3.1mil in Wales but the country is 75 times larger than Wales). In response to the population increase there has been a construction boom and apartment blocks are rising everywhere you look. With 4 power plants in the city and coal the main energy source, Ulaanbaatar has become the 2nd most polluted city on the planet (the first is in Iran) and you can’t help but notice the layer of smog that hangs on the horizon as you drive away and out in to the country. 

Mongolia currently has very few tarmac roads and the government has recently revealed action plans to increase coverage to link more remote areas of the country. At present, there are only two main tarmac roads and we spent about 3 hours driving west along one of them. We stopped for lunch at a road side cafe and our guide ordered for us. It was delicious, a carb and meat heavy dish of beef, gravy, potatoes, pasta, bread, rice and cabbage, washed down with salty, extremely milky green tea. The food on our 3 day trip was to be one of the highlights. Having a Mongolian guide with us meant she could suggest local specialties for us to eat taking the stress out of ordering food when you’re unable to read the menu. As vegetables are hard to grow, the food revolves around meat and it’s all free range and incredibly meaty tasting, no part of the animal is wasted. For a country of less than 3 million people, there are more than 45 million animals.

We had another 2 and a half hours to drive to camp, the last hour being off road and including a frozen stream crossing, but the time flew as we watched the majesty of the steppes rolling past from the van windows. As there are no trees it’s incredibly hard to gauge perspective and until you see a herd on a hillside as specks in the distance you don’t realise how big and empty the place really is. It’s easy to understand why Outer Mongolia has become a byword for ‘the middle of nowhere’, it’s a wilderness like you can’t even imagine. Despite there not seeming to be much about, there were hundreds of buzzards and falcons and Siberian hamsters running around. We even saw a couple of groups of vultures feeding on road kill. It’s only when you start noticing all the bones and skulls scattered around that you start to understand how harsh the environment is.
View from the Ger camp, Semi Gobi.
By the time we reached camp the sun was getting low in the sky. We were staying in the guest ger of a nomadic family, a husband, wife and their 9 month old baby who was in a stroller tied up in the family ger so her parents could get on with their chores without worrying about her burning herself on the central stove. After tea with the family and an incredibly hard piece of dried curd to suck on, we were shown our ger. It was a 6 sided, round tent with conical roof. There was the main wooden structure, coated in felt, then a waterproof layer and then a layer of white cotton with patterned material hung up around the inside for decoration. In the centre there was a wood burning stove and 6 beds were arranged around the edge. The furniture in the gers reminds me of the gypsy style we have at home with bright coloured paintings.

We didn’t have long to relax before we had to put on our thermals and mount our horses. It wasn’t quite the ‘ride’ we’d expected, more like a donkey outing on Brighton beach. We were walked around the scrub surrounding the ger and as the horses live wild, they’re a bit skittish and we couldn’t take photos of the surroundings incase it scared them. Back at the gers we swapped our horses for camels and were grateful to dismount, the wooden saddles were incredibly uncomfortable. The camels on the other hand were crazy comfy, wedged between the two fluffy humps, it was like sitting on a heated car seat. 
Me on my camel, Semi Gobi.
By the time we returned to camp the sun wasn’t far from setting. We had a flask of tea brought to our ger and stoked the fire with more dried dung to warm it up. As the sun dropped, so did the temperature and it was bitterly cold, below -10C, not the best tent weather. We had mutton fried dumplings brought to our room for dinner and with nothing left to do after popping out to admire the stars for as long as we could bare the cold, turned in for an early night, huddled under three layers of sleeping bags and fully dressed.

We had expected to be woken by the sun but hadn’t factored in how late it rises in the Gobi, (we experienced near on 12 hours of darkness) and instead we were woken by the local lady making up our fire. Once we emerged, we had rice pudding with more mutton dumplings for breakfast before walking out to the back of the camp to see the camels, who had frozen nostrils after a night in subzero temperatures. Our guide brought us some clothes belonging to the nomads for us to try, then we took some photos while the sun rose of the herd of sheep and goats, who had been rounded up to the front of the camp to keep them sheltered and safe from the wolves and then climbed back in to the van to head back to Ulaanbaatar, discovering the bottle of water we’d left in the van had completely frozen solid. 
Frozen camel, Semi Gobi.
The herd outside the gers in the early morning, Semi Gobi.
Me and Rhys wearing the nomads clothes outside our ger, Semi Gobi.
As we’d driven the same road the previous day and it was just endless steppes, it was starting to get a little repetitive although still spectacularly beautiful and we spotted more foxes and gazelles. We stopped on route for lunch again, this time at a different stretch of roadside cafes, where we had hearty mutton dumplings. Unlike delicate Tibetan momo’s, these dumplings were heavy, juicy and very very flavoursome.

Once we reached Ulaanbaatar, we drove to the south of the city where we stopped by the river side at the Zaisan Memorial, built by the Soviets with panoramic views of the city to celebrate Russian-Mongolian co-operation in WWII. Our guide pointed out where the buildings used to finish and rolling hills started, now the memorial is surrounded by building sites.

Leaving Ulaanbaatar behind, we drove an hour and a half west to the Gorkhi-Terelj National Park, following the frozen river with kids skating, that runs through the city. An alpine valley crisscrossed by icy streams and lined with stunning, huge, rounded boulders. By the time we reached the park, the sun had dropped behind the mountains. We still had a few hours of sunlight and on our way to the ger camp, stopped at the much photographed Turtle Rock, which for once, actually did look like a turtle. Our guide pointed out a small crevice that we could shimmy through to emerge at the other side of the rock for views of the valley.
Turtle rock, Terelj National Park.
Next we found our camp amongst the many camps in the valley and joined the family in their ger for tea and more dried curd. They had a three year old kid dressed up in local clothes and when he wasn’t dragging their cat around by it’s tail, he was trying to get us to play with him. When kids are tiny here they wrap them up against the cold, so they’re nothing but a bundle of fabric and they can’t bend their arms or legs, then, when they get older, especially the boys, wear traditional clothes and they look adorable. When you’re out of Ulaanbaatar, nearly everyone still wears traditional clothes but in the city western styles prevail and this has resulted in back and kidney problems as the clothes aren’t warm enough.

We had some spare time before dinner and our guide suggested we take a walk up the hill next to the camp. Although the sun was low in the sky the view was still impressive and quite mystical and the walk allowed us time to collect wood for the fire in our room. Dinner of homemade noodle soup was served in the families ger then we retired to our own ger to read in the warmth of our beds. The temperature was no where near as cold as it had been the previous night and we slept comfortably.

The next morning breakfast wasn’t until 9am so we had some time to venture out to explore. The sun was just hitting the top of the valley when we wandered up to the top of another hill nearby with a huge round boulder teetering on it’s edge on the peak. We watched the sun come up with two dogs we’d picked up on route before heading down to warm up with breakfast rice pudding and tea. It’s refreshing to be in a country where they respect dogs, believing they get reincarnated as people in their next life.
Rhys by one of the boulders on the hill top near our ger, Terelj National Park.
Rhys admiring the view, Terelj National Park.
We still had the full day before we had to head back to the city so our guide took us on the short walk to the Aryapala Buddhist meditation retreat. It was only a small building with a few prayer wheels but after our guide left us we had a few hours before lunch and decided to walk up the mountain behind the monastery. We were aiming for a crevice that looked like the easiest route but as there were no paths (Mongolian’s aren’t really into walking and you have to make your own way through the undergrowth), we ended up getting separated and it took us a while to regroup. Rhys made it to the top of the mountain while I waited below having come across a sheer rock face on the path i’d chosen. Lesson learned, next time, follow Rhys up the mountain.
Aryapala Meditation Retreat, Terelj National Park.
View of the valley from the mountain behind the Meditation retreat, Terelj National Park.
We hadn’t left ourselves enough time to get back to camp for lunch and had to apologise for being late, only for dinner to be served an hour and a half later than expected. The late lunch did give us a chance to watch the lady cooking, sheering off chunks of meat from a huge frozen slab with a super sharp cleaver. This camp was a lot more touristy than our first ger, with the family making money primarily from tourism compared to the animal husbandry of the nomadic family and being closer to the city the availability of ingredients for food and the standard of furniture in the gers (this was a permanent camp unlike the seasonal one in the desert) obviously benefited. 

After lunch, we packed the van and headed back towards the city, stopping at a huge shiny, silver, 40m tall stature of Genghis Khan on horseback (called Chinggis Khan by Mongolian people) topping a small but interesting museum building. The museum and statue were well worth the stop and were intended to be the centre piece of a huge complex but money ran out and now all but the centre feels like it’s been abandoned with cracked paving stones and overgrown grass.
Genghis Khan statue, near Ulaanbaatar.
Once back in the city, we checked back into our hostel and said our goodbyes to our guide and driver. We cooked dinner at the hostel and spent the evening chatting to the three other people staying there, over a bottle of local vodka.

Having had a busy couple of days we had a lay in the next day, venturing out at lunch time to find the food court in the State Department Store. Ordering food was a stressful event and the meal was pretty mediocre. The best outcome of our trip was the discovery of a supermarket where we could actually buy enough ingredients to cook a proper meal that night, and of a BHS (that’s right, British Home Stores have made it to Mongolia). We collected our train tickets for the following night from a travel agency in town and wandered back to the hostel to get out of the cold.

We had a night train the following day and luckily our hostel let us keep our room for a late checkout. We spent the morning watching TV and chilling in the lounge. After lunch, I walked to the National Museum of Mongolia which, despite a lack of info in English in some of the halls, was very well laid out with a particularly impressive collection of Mongolian costume.

We ate dinner at the hostel before a free transfer to the train station. We boarded our train at 20:25 and found we were sharing our cabin with a Russian woman and a Russian man who I originally thought were traveling together. I was wrong and the woman was as exasperated as we were with the man who had some serious hygiene problems and hadn’t washed in a year and who had the worst case of verbal diarrhea i’d ever come across. He did not shut up for the entire 26 hour journey and when he wasn’t chuntering away, he was snoring. He didn’t seem to care that we couldn’t understand a word he was saying and was content to talk at us.

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