I think we woke up at around 7am. The train was stopped in a featureless, flat and dusty landscape. It was dusty and hot, our compartment was stuffy, we still couldn’t open the window due to the dust.
The armpits of hell and his mates were chowing down on raw onion, raw garlic and possibly even carrion. At least thats how it smelt. Yes all of this managed to seep through into our compartment.
The train remained stopped here, again with locked toilets for around 2 hours. At 9am we got moving, but it was still pretty uncomfortable, as our compartment was hot, dusty and smelt like super concentrated garlic.
We stopped again about 1.5 hours later. I don’t know where, somewhere between Zamyn Uud and Ulaanbaatar. We were able to get off the train and have a wander. People on the platform were selling ice cream, soup noodles, dumplings and some nice young lads gave us some amethyst. We politely said no and gave it back, but they said “no money” and ran off, big smiles all round.
In case you are wondering, the reason why train toilets are locked at the station are because their contents are vented directly onto the tracks, but it seems that someone forgot to lock the toilets at this station and I was able to watch a couple of large turds drop out of a train carriage, all before breakfast and my morning ablutions.
We made our way down to the dining car. During the bogey exchange the Chinese dining car had been replaced with a Mongolian one. The Mongolian car was far far superior in terms of service, quality of food and decor. We sat at carved wooden tables, with carved wooden backdrops under the watchful eye of golden Elk heads stuck to the bulkhead between each window. We breakfasted on schnitzel with cheese, rice, onions cooked in beetroot juice and chips. The food was very good, but bloody expensive.
Given the stench in our carriage we spent a good deal of time in the dining car and returned to our cabin about two hours later.
By this time the landscape had changed again and we were now on the rolling green hills of the Mongolian Steppe, so we could open our window, keep our door closed and when the train was moving really really fast, no smell from the armpits of hell. Tan fell asleep, I read.
We got into Ulaanbaatar around 1 hour late, met our guide, stopped for a quick beer, got some water at the Supermarket and hit the road.
Ulaanbaatar traffic gives Beijing traffic a run for it’s money. There are lots of old Soviet era trucks, vans and a couple of UAV jeeps thrown in for good measure. The wealthy drive fully pimped out Landcruisers, resplendent with graphics, most of which say LANDCRUISER, just so you are sure it’s a Landcruiser and about 12 rally spotlights on the roof and bull bar. There are new buildings and old Soviet era “workers” apartments, factories making biscuits and woolen garments are on the outskirts of town.
Around 30 minutes outside Ulaanbaatar we promptly broke down, so we decided to go for a walk on the Steppe, we watched horses whilst our guide pointed out Mongolian Sage and Mongolian Adel-vise, there were 3 Gers off in the distance.
After our walk we went back to our van, and Humbolt our driver had off his shirt and was under the car, after changing out the now busted alternator. Without an alternator, we were going nowhere, on the spur of the moment we decided to visit the nomads.
After a warm welcome, with men sitting on the man side of the Ger and the women on the woman side, close to the kitchen and cooking pots, just in case any man needs something,
The inside of the Ger was filled with saddles, silks, horse numbers, comfy cushions and carpets on the mens side. On the womens side was the furniture and cooking utensils. We were seated around a low table, and began our introductions. We met Gantulga and his wife Enkhjarjal.
We had a tin of biscuits that we gave to the family, in return we were given sweets, bread and homemade Mongolian moonshine. The moonshine which is named shimiin arkhi, is made from cows milk, which is made into yoghurt, then distilled to yield something that tastes a lot like Korean soju, with a horsey aftertaste. It was actually pretty good. I drank two bowls, as it is bad form to refuse things given to you in Mongolia and Tanya could only have a sip out of hers.
The family were horse trainers and had come 3rd in the 2009 Nadam festival horse racing. Quite a big achievement given that the field consisted of 310 horses, in a race of over 8 kilometers. We took photos of the family in their traditional Mongolian clothes and then it was dress up time, where I posed for photos in the traditional hat, coat and sash.
The cousins dropped by and it turned out that they had been to Australia for a convention on horseracing and breeding, that was held at Royal Randwick.
After around 1 hour spent with the family a replacement van had arrived with a new alternator and we were off. Driving down the road we saw a mob of horses, around 20 or 30 racing along at full gallop, kicking up dust, as they raced off into the sunset, a truly amazing sight.
We left the road and drove on the steppe, all the way to houstei arriving at the Ger camp at around 9pm, where we had a dinner of chicken caccitore and pasta. We sat around chatting with our guide, we listened to some traditional Mongolian singing, which set the restaurant dog howling and growling.
I had another Ghengis lager, after narrowly managing an invite to go and drink vodka with the Mongolian blokes, I managed to politely disengage and we finally got to have a shower after around 40 hours of traveling.
We are staying in a traditional Ger, it smells like horse, but the interior is very nice. We have a cozy wood burning stove, traditional orange Mongolian furniture, consisting of a low table, little stools and relatively comfy beds, it’s pretty windy outside and the rustling of the Ger is noisy, but it’s warm inside and comfortable.
