Monday, 25 February 2008
Welcome to Moscow! The Warmest City so Far!
Outside Lenin's tomb, Red Square.
"Ooh Basil!" St. Basil's Cathedral, Moscow.
St. Barclay at St. Basil's.
The biggest bell in the world, The Kremlin.
Three Days on the Train to Moscow.
"Whoo-whoo, it's da sounda da police!" Some cool Russian coppers handcuffing Andy and Emma on the 'Baikal' train from Irkutsk to Moscow. A very drunken night.
Peace-Police.
Uh-oh - here we go again!
Our first-class, Lake Baikal themed cabin.
We had paid for a first class cabin for this leg of the journey. This meant that we had a cabin to ourselves and extra safety. The three days went quickly, but by the end we were dirty, and the cabin fever had started to set in. Nevermind, we had arrived in Moscow!
Lake Baikal.
The four of us were met off the train by a Russian student called Katia. She took us to a coffee shop and told us that two other people would be joining us for this part of the journey. Their train was arriving in an hour, so we got a coffee, brushed our teeth, and tried to not be too overwhelmed at being around loads of Caucasians for the first time in two years.
The other two people came. They were two vets from Australia. They had come from Moscow and were heading to Sapporo in Japan to do some skiing. We all instantly got along, and we knew that this leg of the journey was going to be something special.
Lake Baikal is the world’s largest lake. It is 636 km long, 79 km wide, and has a depth in some parts of 1637 m. Scientists believe that it is more than 20 million years old. One fifth of all of the world’s fresh water is stored here. The water is so pure and clean, that it is drinkable at any point.
The drive to the village where we were staying took about 2 hours. During that time, we all just stared out the window at the beautiful Siberian countryside. The mountains were jagged, the trees were covered in heavy sheets of snow, and the rivers and small lakes were frozen solid. There was no life outside, and it added to the eerie feelings we all felt about this completely isolated place.
We arrived in the village of Bolshoe Goloustnoe at about noon. The house was wooden with green painted windows and curtains for doors. We were shown to our room and then served our first Russian meal. Our host was a huge woman, who you instinctively knew would not let us starve during our time here. Lunch is the most important meal in Siberia, so we had a feast! We started with a soup, which was so hearty I was convinced that there could not be another course. How wrong I was! This was followed by meatballs and mashed potatoes, accompanied with bread, butter and a variety of sauces. Afterwards, we were so full, we were given an hour to rest before we went out to explore that lake and the village.
Lake Baikal may be the world’s largest lake, but it is still frozen solid between December and April. We got some mountain bikes out of the shed, and headed down to the lake to ride over the frozen ice! Within about two minutes, both Gemma and I had fallen off. With renewed gusto, I climbed back on and carefully navigated myself along and around the extremely slippery ice. The ice was so clear that you could see all the way down to the bottom of the lake. At first, it felt very unnatural being out there, but after a while, it felt fine. We all soon discovered that the best way to stay on the bikes was to ride on the parts of the lake that had snow on them. This created more friction and made it easier to move forward. If you rode on the parts that were just ice, your back wheel just slid out from under you, and you were down on your bum.
After about two hours, we went back to the house. The wind on the lake was cold and strong, and our thermals were not doing their jobs anymore. Anyway, it was time for a banya, a traditional Russian sauna. The banya was in another building at the end of the garden. It consisted of a sauna, which was heated by wood. You had to stand in the sauna for as long as you could (about 3 minutes for me, Barclay was much more tolerant of the heat). You then came out of the sauna, and used the wash room. This consisted of a huge barrel of cold, Lake Baikal water, which you scooped out with a pan. Above your head, there was a heated vat of water that you turned on using a tap and mixed with the cold water. It was the best shower ever! Afterwards, we both felt so relaxed and nice. After another wonderful meal, we all settled down and had a few vodkas to celebrate our arrival in Russia.
The next day, we had arranged to take the bikes 4 km over the ice of Lake Baikal to a fisherman’s house for lunch. We set out about midday. We had to be back by 5:00, because the two Australian boys had to leave, as their train to Vladivostok left early the following morning. Katia told us that it would take an hour to get there on the bikes. It ended up taking two and a half hours. Some parts of the ice were nice and flat, we made it over these parts quickly and safely. Other parts of the ice were just plain mental. Some parts were like frozen waves, whilst other parts formed jagged daggers where the ice had pushed up other parts of ice underneath it. These parts took a lot of time to maneuver around. During some parts of the journey, we had to carry the bikes over parts of the lake, being careful not to impale ourselves on the way. Needless to say, it was a relief to get to the house and sit down for a delicious lunch of borsht (beetroot soup), omul (fresh fish from Lake Baikal), and fresh vegetables.
Because it had taken us so long to get to the village, we had to get back on the road as quickly as possible. We had decided that it would be both quicker and easier to walk the bikes back along the beach. It was difficult in some places, as the beach was covered with pebbles, and the water along the edge of the lake was frozen. It was, however, the best decision we made. We got back to Bolshoe Goloustnoe in about an hour and a half. The Australian boys had to leave straight away. We had another banya, and went straight to bed.
The next morning, we were going back to the city of Irkutsk for one night in a hotel. The following morning, we were catching the train to Moscow. This was going to be the longest of our four train journeys. This was going to take 77 hours!
We arrived in Irkutsk, did washing, ate some food, found a Beatles theme pub, and had a couple of beers to knock us out. We knew that the next part of the journey was going to be a tough one.
The other two people came. They were two vets from Australia. They had come from Moscow and were heading to Sapporo in Japan to do some skiing. We all instantly got along, and we knew that this leg of the journey was going to be something special.
Lake Baikal is the world’s largest lake. It is 636 km long, 79 km wide, and has a depth in some parts of 1637 m. Scientists believe that it is more than 20 million years old. One fifth of all of the world’s fresh water is stored here. The water is so pure and clean, that it is drinkable at any point.
The drive to the village where we were staying took about 2 hours. During that time, we all just stared out the window at the beautiful Siberian countryside. The mountains were jagged, the trees were covered in heavy sheets of snow, and the rivers and small lakes were frozen solid. There was no life outside, and it added to the eerie feelings we all felt about this completely isolated place.
We arrived in the village of Bolshoe Goloustnoe at about noon. The house was wooden with green painted windows and curtains for doors. We were shown to our room and then served our first Russian meal. Our host was a huge woman, who you instinctively knew would not let us starve during our time here. Lunch is the most important meal in Siberia, so we had a feast! We started with a soup, which was so hearty I was convinced that there could not be another course. How wrong I was! This was followed by meatballs and mashed potatoes, accompanied with bread, butter and a variety of sauces. Afterwards, we were so full, we were given an hour to rest before we went out to explore that lake and the village.
Lake Baikal may be the world’s largest lake, but it is still frozen solid between December and April. We got some mountain bikes out of the shed, and headed down to the lake to ride over the frozen ice! Within about two minutes, both Gemma and I had fallen off. With renewed gusto, I climbed back on and carefully navigated myself along and around the extremely slippery ice. The ice was so clear that you could see all the way down to the bottom of the lake. At first, it felt very unnatural being out there, but after a while, it felt fine. We all soon discovered that the best way to stay on the bikes was to ride on the parts of the lake that had snow on them. This created more friction and made it easier to move forward. If you rode on the parts that were just ice, your back wheel just slid out from under you, and you were down on your bum.
After about two hours, we went back to the house. The wind on the lake was cold and strong, and our thermals were not doing their jobs anymore. Anyway, it was time for a banya, a traditional Russian sauna. The banya was in another building at the end of the garden. It consisted of a sauna, which was heated by wood. You had to stand in the sauna for as long as you could (about 3 minutes for me, Barclay was much more tolerant of the heat). You then came out of the sauna, and used the wash room. This consisted of a huge barrel of cold, Lake Baikal water, which you scooped out with a pan. Above your head, there was a heated vat of water that you turned on using a tap and mixed with the cold water. It was the best shower ever! Afterwards, we both felt so relaxed and nice. After another wonderful meal, we all settled down and had a few vodkas to celebrate our arrival in Russia.
The next day, we had arranged to take the bikes 4 km over the ice of Lake Baikal to a fisherman’s house for lunch. We set out about midday. We had to be back by 5:00, because the two Australian boys had to leave, as their train to Vladivostok left early the following morning. Katia told us that it would take an hour to get there on the bikes. It ended up taking two and a half hours. Some parts of the ice were nice and flat, we made it over these parts quickly and safely. Other parts of the ice were just plain mental. Some parts were like frozen waves, whilst other parts formed jagged daggers where the ice had pushed up other parts of ice underneath it. These parts took a lot of time to maneuver around. During some parts of the journey, we had to carry the bikes over parts of the lake, being careful not to impale ourselves on the way. Needless to say, it was a relief to get to the house and sit down for a delicious lunch of borsht (beetroot soup), omul (fresh fish from Lake Baikal), and fresh vegetables.
Because it had taken us so long to get to the village, we had to get back on the road as quickly as possible. We had decided that it would be both quicker and easier to walk the bikes back along the beach. It was difficult in some places, as the beach was covered with pebbles, and the water along the edge of the lake was frozen. It was, however, the best decision we made. We got back to Bolshoe Goloustnoe in about an hour and a half. The Australian boys had to leave straight away. We had another banya, and went straight to bed.
The next morning, we were going back to the city of Irkutsk for one night in a hotel. The following morning, we were catching the train to Moscow. This was going to be the longest of our four train journeys. This was going to take 77 hours!
We arrived in Irkutsk, did washing, ate some food, found a Beatles theme pub, and had a couple of beers to knock us out. We knew that the next part of the journey was going to be a tough one.
Some Photos From Lake Baikal.
Welcome to Russia!
What a journey! The train to Irkutsk, in Siberia, was one of the maddest things we have ever experienced. The journey is a lot shorter than the one between Beijing and Ulaanbaatar, but because of the strict border regulations on the Russian side, it takes a full 46 hours to make it the 1113 kms. We were travelling with the New Zealand couple still, and we were ready with enough food and booze to feed a small country. There was no dining car on this train, so we had to make sure that we had enough provisions for the trip. We spent the time reading, chatting, and looking at the changing scenery.
We must have arrived at the Mongolian border at about 5 am. The bathroom doors were locked and the guard told me that we were at the border. She said that the doors would be locked until the Mongolian border officials had checked our passports. She also told me that there was a bathroom on the platform, so I wrapped up warm (it was -20) and headed off the train. When I got off, I saw that only one carriage (ours) was sitting on the tracks. It wasn’t connected to anything, and there was no engine attached to it. Nobody seemed to be bothered by this fact, so I went to the toilet and came back; marveling at how strange this isolated train looked.
The Mongolian Customs officials did not start work until 9am, so we had time to kill. We walked along the platform, took some photos, and wondered what was going to happen to our lonely carriage.
At about 8:00, loads of people started getting on the train. There were about twenty extra people on, and since our carriage was full, we wondered what they were doing. Suddenly, they were all giving the guard quite a bit of money. In return, she gave them a key. We had no idea what these people were doing. Then we realised that they all had boxes filled with salami and jeans! They started hiding the salami all over the cabin. Then, they started putting on 5 pairs of jeans each. We then realised that they were smuggling these goods over the border.
The Mongolian guards came on, took our passports and told us to wait for a further two hours. They didn’t seem too bothered about the extra people, the smell of salami, or the Mongolian women who looked like their bums were the size of Mars.
We got our passports back and drove for 30 minutes. An engine was attached at this point, but it was still only pushing our carriage. During that time, the Mongolian smugglers threw empty boxes out the window and made sure that all of their stuff was safely stashed. We also heard them taping boxes, so that the stuff looked like birthday presents. By the time we arrived at the Russian border, everyone was trying to look as normal as possible.
The Russian guards were scary! First, they were all massive. Second, they all spoke English, so unlike some other places, they were not embarrassed or afraid to ask you questions about your stay. They did not seem too concerned with us. They just asked us to move out of the cabin, whilst some Soviet giant searched it. They knew right away that the Mongolian guys were not legit. They made them open the boxes (which I think was a double bluff, because they didn’t find anything inside) and they searched their cabins about fifty times.
The guards took our passports and told us not to leave the train. By this point, we had been at the Mongolian and Russian border for about 7 hours! By the time we got our passports back, it had been 9 hours. By the time we left, the entire process had taken 10.5 hours! As soon as the Mongolian smugglers had their passports, they started unloading all the goods. The guard had given them a key to a special cupboard; from the outside it looked like a wall, but behind it, there was a huge space. The Russian guards had checked under the floors and in the ceilings, but this special cupboard seemed to be the place that no-one on the Russian side knew about. The ironic thing was that as soon as they left the train, the Mongolian smugglers sold their goods at a black market stall, which was overlooked by the Russian Customs building!
We finally left the border station and spent the rest of the time plowing through the food we had lovingly prepared. After a night of vodka, wine, and beer, we found ourselves being awoken at 7am, to the guard shouting, “Irkutsk, Irkutsk!” We had arrived.
We must have arrived at the Mongolian border at about 5 am. The bathroom doors were locked and the guard told me that we were at the border. She said that the doors would be locked until the Mongolian border officials had checked our passports. She also told me that there was a bathroom on the platform, so I wrapped up warm (it was -20) and headed off the train. When I got off, I saw that only one carriage (ours) was sitting on the tracks. It wasn’t connected to anything, and there was no engine attached to it. Nobody seemed to be bothered by this fact, so I went to the toilet and came back; marveling at how strange this isolated train looked.
The Mongolian Customs officials did not start work until 9am, so we had time to kill. We walked along the platform, took some photos, and wondered what was going to happen to our lonely carriage.
At about 8:00, loads of people started getting on the train. There were about twenty extra people on, and since our carriage was full, we wondered what they were doing. Suddenly, they were all giving the guard quite a bit of money. In return, she gave them a key. We had no idea what these people were doing. Then we realised that they all had boxes filled with salami and jeans! They started hiding the salami all over the cabin. Then, they started putting on 5 pairs of jeans each. We then realised that they were smuggling these goods over the border.
The Mongolian guards came on, took our passports and told us to wait for a further two hours. They didn’t seem too bothered about the extra people, the smell of salami, or the Mongolian women who looked like their bums were the size of Mars.
We got our passports back and drove for 30 minutes. An engine was attached at this point, but it was still only pushing our carriage. During that time, the Mongolian smugglers threw empty boxes out the window and made sure that all of their stuff was safely stashed. We also heard them taping boxes, so that the stuff looked like birthday presents. By the time we arrived at the Russian border, everyone was trying to look as normal as possible.
The Russian guards were scary! First, they were all massive. Second, they all spoke English, so unlike some other places, they were not embarrassed or afraid to ask you questions about your stay. They did not seem too concerned with us. They just asked us to move out of the cabin, whilst some Soviet giant searched it. They knew right away that the Mongolian guys were not legit. They made them open the boxes (which I think was a double bluff, because they didn’t find anything inside) and they searched their cabins about fifty times.
The guards took our passports and told us not to leave the train. By this point, we had been at the Mongolian and Russian border for about 7 hours! By the time we got our passports back, it had been 9 hours. By the time we left, the entire process had taken 10.5 hours! As soon as the Mongolian smugglers had their passports, they started unloading all the goods. The guard had given them a key to a special cupboard; from the outside it looked like a wall, but behind it, there was a huge space. The Russian guards had checked under the floors and in the ceilings, but this special cupboard seemed to be the place that no-one on the Russian side knew about. The ironic thing was that as soon as they left the train, the Mongolian smugglers sold their goods at a black market stall, which was overlooked by the Russian Customs building!
We finally left the border station and spent the rest of the time plowing through the food we had lovingly prepared. After a night of vodka, wine, and beer, we found ourselves being awoken at 7am, to the guard shouting, “Irkutsk, Irkutsk!” We had arrived.
A Couple of Nights in a Mongolian Tent.
WOW! So much has happened since last Tuesday. We caught the train from Beijing Main Station at 7:45 am. The train itself was extremely comfortable. We stayed in a four berth cabin with a New Zealand couple, Andy and Gemma, who are making their way to England to work for two years. They are really friendly, and we feel really lucky to be with people who are positive about the trip and willing to give anything a go.
We spent our time on the train talking, reading, and exchanging stories. The time passed so quickly that before we knew it, we were at the border. The train tracks on the Chinese side are different from the train tracks on the Mongolian side. The train pulled into a border town called Erlian. Some Chinese border officials got on, took our passports, and kicked us off the train for three hours until the bogies (the wheels on the train) had been changed. Once the bogies had been changed, we were allowed back on the train. We travelled for about 30 minutes, and then some Mongolian border officials got on, took our passports, told us not to leave the train, locked the toilets, and went away for 2 hours. After they returned our passports, we were free to continue our journey. By this point it was 2 am, so we tucked ourselves into bed, turned off the lights, and were rocked to sleep by the motion of the train.
We were awoken by a small Mongolian child who had befriended us. He was such a cute kid, just happy looking at us, laughing, and running around once we chased him. He stayed with us for a while, making sure that all our attention was focused on him, talking 3 year old Mongolian to us, and trying to copy what we said, much to the hilarity of both himself and his mother, who thought her son’s confidence was a sign of the man he was to become.
The train arrived at 1:20 pm. We were met by our guide, Cho-Gi, and a driver. She took us on a tour around the city. This included the famous Gandantegchenling Monastery, which is the main Buddhist monastery in Mongolia. We also went to Sukhbaatar Square, which, like in all (ex) communist countries was huge and had seen its fair share of violence and revolt.
We headed to the Ger camp at about 6 pm. It was dark at this point and the camp was an hour outside of Ulaanbaatar. Our driver turned off the road after about 20 minutes and we were racing along the steppe, which was covered with ice and snow. It was pitch black, he was going at least 60 mph, and he kept turning around to talk to the guide, who seemed unfazed by his obviously insane driving skills. That said, we made it there in one piece. He’s obviously done that drive a million times before; I would guess that he could do it with his eyes closed.
We entered our Ger, and instantly fell in love with it. It was so cozy and warm. A coal stove was placed in the middle of the tent and a chimney let out the smoke. Because the Ger is made from felt, the heat stayed in the insulated walls and made it toasty and comfortable. We were told that Mongolians don’t lock their Gers. It’s a good job we didn’t, because a nice lady kept coming in, putting more coals into the fire, and generally making sure that we were comfortable. We were so thankful for her help, especially once we were told that the outside temperature was -25!
Mongolian food is awesome! They eat pickled vegetables (I guess because they last longer that way). Their diet is heavily based on meat, most of it is quite fatty, but we were told that in the winter the fatty parts are good, because they keep you warm. Whatever the reason, all of the food was amazing; beef dumplings, mutton soup, pickled cabbage, and of course, lots of tea.
The next morning we had decided to go horse riding along the steppe. A local man brought over some horses and we were given a brief explanation about how to make the horse go (if you ever find yourself needing to make a Mongolian horse go, you can say “chu-chu”). It was beautiful to see the steppe at that time in the morning. Again, it was freezing cold (-21), so we came back after an hour and tried to master the art of Mongolian archery. After realising that neither Barclay nor I were ever going to hit the target, we made our way over a hill and found ourselves visiting a true nomadic Mongolian family. They invited us into their home, and gave us sweets, dumplings, and cheese curds. We visited them during a special Mongolian festival, called The White Festival. You CANNOT refuse anything that they give you. Apparently, if you do, their animals will die and there will be no sons born for many years. With that in mind, we were conscious to accept everything. This included airag (fermented mares milk), suu-tei (basically tea with butter and salt in it), shots of red wine, shots of vodka, and fruit flavoured polos!
Once the booze had taken effect, we found ourselves playing the accordion, looking at photos, asking questions, and listening to the local gossip (the man in the next tent is 67, but he has a girlfriend who is only 40!). We had to get back to the city after that, as the train left the following morning. We found ourselves in the Bayangol Hotel, the best that Ulaanbaatar has to offer. It was like stepping back into the eighties! That said, the showers were hot, the food was good, and Steven Seagal was staying there (he looked exactly like he did in Under Siege; same boots, same leather jacket, same everything really)!
Next stop, Russia!
We spent our time on the train talking, reading, and exchanging stories. The time passed so quickly that before we knew it, we were at the border. The train tracks on the Chinese side are different from the train tracks on the Mongolian side. The train pulled into a border town called Erlian. Some Chinese border officials got on, took our passports, and kicked us off the train for three hours until the bogies (the wheels on the train) had been changed. Once the bogies had been changed, we were allowed back on the train. We travelled for about 30 minutes, and then some Mongolian border officials got on, took our passports, told us not to leave the train, locked the toilets, and went away for 2 hours. After they returned our passports, we were free to continue our journey. By this point it was 2 am, so we tucked ourselves into bed, turned off the lights, and were rocked to sleep by the motion of the train.
We were awoken by a small Mongolian child who had befriended us. He was such a cute kid, just happy looking at us, laughing, and running around once we chased him. He stayed with us for a while, making sure that all our attention was focused on him, talking 3 year old Mongolian to us, and trying to copy what we said, much to the hilarity of both himself and his mother, who thought her son’s confidence was a sign of the man he was to become.
The train arrived at 1:20 pm. We were met by our guide, Cho-Gi, and a driver. She took us on a tour around the city. This included the famous Gandantegchenling Monastery, which is the main Buddhist monastery in Mongolia. We also went to Sukhbaatar Square, which, like in all (ex) communist countries was huge and had seen its fair share of violence and revolt.
We headed to the Ger camp at about 6 pm. It was dark at this point and the camp was an hour outside of Ulaanbaatar. Our driver turned off the road after about 20 minutes and we were racing along the steppe, which was covered with ice and snow. It was pitch black, he was going at least 60 mph, and he kept turning around to talk to the guide, who seemed unfazed by his obviously insane driving skills. That said, we made it there in one piece. He’s obviously done that drive a million times before; I would guess that he could do it with his eyes closed.
We entered our Ger, and instantly fell in love with it. It was so cozy and warm. A coal stove was placed in the middle of the tent and a chimney let out the smoke. Because the Ger is made from felt, the heat stayed in the insulated walls and made it toasty and comfortable. We were told that Mongolians don’t lock their Gers. It’s a good job we didn’t, because a nice lady kept coming in, putting more coals into the fire, and generally making sure that we were comfortable. We were so thankful for her help, especially once we were told that the outside temperature was -25!
Mongolian food is awesome! They eat pickled vegetables (I guess because they last longer that way). Their diet is heavily based on meat, most of it is quite fatty, but we were told that in the winter the fatty parts are good, because they keep you warm. Whatever the reason, all of the food was amazing; beef dumplings, mutton soup, pickled cabbage, and of course, lots of tea.
The next morning we had decided to go horse riding along the steppe. A local man brought over some horses and we were given a brief explanation about how to make the horse go (if you ever find yourself needing to make a Mongolian horse go, you can say “chu-chu”). It was beautiful to see the steppe at that time in the morning. Again, it was freezing cold (-21), so we came back after an hour and tried to master the art of Mongolian archery. After realising that neither Barclay nor I were ever going to hit the target, we made our way over a hill and found ourselves visiting a true nomadic Mongolian family. They invited us into their home, and gave us sweets, dumplings, and cheese curds. We visited them during a special Mongolian festival, called The White Festival. You CANNOT refuse anything that they give you. Apparently, if you do, their animals will die and there will be no sons born for many years. With that in mind, we were conscious to accept everything. This included airag (fermented mares milk), suu-tei (basically tea with butter and salt in it), shots of red wine, shots of vodka, and fruit flavoured polos!
Once the booze had taken effect, we found ourselves playing the accordion, looking at photos, asking questions, and listening to the local gossip (the man in the next tent is 67, but he has a girlfriend who is only 40!). We had to get back to the city after that, as the train left the following morning. We found ourselves in the Bayangol Hotel, the best that Ulaanbaatar has to offer. It was like stepping back into the eighties! That said, the showers were hot, the food was good, and Steven Seagal was staying there (he looked exactly like he did in Under Siege; same boots, same leather jacket, same everything really)!
Next stop, Russia!
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
Siberia! Not as Cold as Mongolia!
I'm sitting in the University of Irkutsk, wishing that I could post some photos. Alas, it is not to be. We are about to board the train to Moscow (or Moskva, in Russian). This journey is going to take three days. As soon as we arrive, I will post some photos, and write about what we have been up to for the last week.
Friday, 15 February 2008
Some Facts About Mongolia.
Population: 2.8 million
Surface Area: 1.56 million sq km
Literacy Rate: 98% (They use the Russian alphabet to read)
Livestock to Person Ratio: 13 to 1
Capital City: Ulaanbaatar (UB)
No. of people living in UB: 1.2 million
I was also happy to find out that there are no McDonalds' in Mongolia. The government has refused requests, because they think it will damage small businesses. Yet another reason to love this wonderdul place.
Mongolia became a free democratic state in 1990, after the fall of communism.
Surface Area: 1.56 million sq km
Literacy Rate: 98% (They use the Russian alphabet to read)
Livestock to Person Ratio: 13 to 1
Capital City: Ulaanbaatar (UB)
No. of people living in UB: 1.2 million
I was also happy to find out that there are no McDonalds' in Mongolia. The government has refused requests, because they think it will damage small businesses. Yet another reason to love this wonderdul place.
Mongolia became a free democratic state in 1990, after the fall of communism.
Beijing - Mongolia
Some mountains somewhere between China and Mongolia.
Sam on the platform at the China-Mongolia border. It's midnight, it's minus 20, we're half-cut, and we can't get back on the train for 3 hours. However, it is a lot of fun and there are cheap beers at the mini-mart.
The trusty "Samovar". This is the hot water boiler in our train carriage. Perfect for morning porridge, coffee, and hot-toddies.
An Irvine Welsh book and a bottle of whiskey - good train companions, but where's the whiskey gone? Oops!
The front of our train as it approaches Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia.
Gandantegchenling Monastery, Ulaan baatar. Fascinating, curious, and crazy, just like the city itself.
Sam on the platform at the China-Mongolia border. It's midnight, it's minus 20, we're half-cut, and we can't get back on the train for 3 hours. However, it is a lot of fun and there are cheap beers at the mini-mart.
The trusty "Samovar". This is the hot water boiler in our train carriage. Perfect for morning porridge, coffee, and hot-toddies.
An Irvine Welsh book and a bottle of whiskey - good train companions, but where's the whiskey gone? Oops!
The front of our train as it approaches Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia.
Gandantegchenling Monastery, Ulaan baatar. Fascinating, curious, and crazy, just like the city itself.
Ulaan Baatar = Red Hero
Sukh Baatar = Axe Hero
Just in case you wondered.
The Mongolian flag, flying above "Axe Hero Square". The red on the outside represented Russia and China, and the blue in the middle little ol' Mongolia
Sunday, 10 February 2008
Cooking in the Hutong.
This is our second time in Beijing. We came here seven months ago to visit our friend, Jo-Louise, who was studying here. We did all of the touristy things then, so this time we wanted to try something new. Jo-Louise had recommended a cookery course. The woman who runs the course lives in the Hutong (Beijing's historic alleyways), in a traditional courtyard house. The course started at 10:00 and finished at 14:00. During this time, she was going to teach us how to cook four popular Chinese dishes.
We set out early, as the Hutongs can be difficult to navigate. We arrived with about 30 minutes to spare. We had a map, but we couldn't find the house. There was just a long thin road, with about fifteen doors (some open, some locked) sporadically placed along it. We assumed that the doors were the front doors of peoples' houses. After asking directions, we found ourselves back on the street where we had been dropped off. Luckily, the teacher, Chun Yi, had come looking for us, so we were saved. She led us through one of the 'front doors'. It led to further alleys, with more doors, more passageways, and more looks of confusion.
Her house was amazing. She doesn't have a fridge, so she goes to the market everyday and buys all of her produce fresh. Chun Yi was a wonderful teacher; her English was excellent, and she was fun, knowledgable, and patient.
We started by cooking stir-fried beef with peppers and onions. She told us that although Chinese food is simple to prepare, the complexities and use of different, specialised flavours, are what really make Chinese food so tasty and well-known. We went on to cook a Sichuan pork dish, some vegetables, and a tofu soup. It was all delicious.
If anyone is coming to Beijing, they should definitely check out this course. It's 160 RMB (about a tenner), and serioulsy worth the time and money. www.hutongcuisine.com
Friday, 8 February 2008
Tianjin to Beijing Leg
Hello from Beijing!
Now everyone knows two indisputable facts about China:
1. About a bzillion people catch trains in China during Chinese New Year.
2. If the entire population of China jumped at the same time, Earth would spin out of its orbit and fly to the moon.
I can now confirm that at least one of these facts is true (I eagerly await proof of the second). We caught the train from Tianjin to Beijing two days ago. The station was heaving with people. The stares we were receiving were different to the ones we get in Korea. People were in awe of our height. Looking across the heads of all those people, we were, on average, a foot taller than anyone else. I don’t want to say people seemed scared of us, but some kids were crying and everyone moved out of the way as we passed.
We boarded the express train to Beijing. It only took an hour and was very comfortable. After we alighted at Beijing Main Station, we were accosted by watch sellers, tour guides, and men touting for taxis. We spotted the hotel across the road, so walking with a purpose, we headed there and checked into our home for the next five days.
The city is trying to reinvent itself for the Olympics. There is so much construction going on, that it’s hard to imagine what it will look like in the summer. Because of all the overtly capitalist development, our ‘hostel’ is now a ‘hotel’, which means that we have our own room, internet access, and a kettle. For fifteen quid a night, it’s really comfortable and nice.
Now everyone knows two indisputable facts about China:
1. About a bzillion people catch trains in China during Chinese New Year.
2. If the entire population of China jumped at the same time, Earth would spin out of its orbit and fly to the moon.
I can now confirm that at least one of these facts is true (I eagerly await proof of the second). We caught the train from Tianjin to Beijing two days ago. The station was heaving with people. The stares we were receiving were different to the ones we get in Korea. People were in awe of our height. Looking across the heads of all those people, we were, on average, a foot taller than anyone else. I don’t want to say people seemed scared of us, but some kids were crying and everyone moved out of the way as we passed.
We boarded the express train to Beijing. It only took an hour and was very comfortable. After we alighted at Beijing Main Station, we were accosted by watch sellers, tour guides, and men touting for taxis. We spotted the hotel across the road, so walking with a purpose, we headed there and checked into our home for the next five days.
The city is trying to reinvent itself for the Olympics. There is so much construction going on, that it’s hard to imagine what it will look like in the summer. Because of all the overtly capitalist development, our ‘hostel’ is now a ‘hotel’, which means that we have our own room, internet access, and a kettle. For fifteen quid a night, it’s really comfortable and nice.
The Last 48 Hours
Spring Festival (AKA Chinese New Year) illuminations, Beijing.
Wrapped-up, including ear 'muffs', for a cold winter night.
Beijing's famous Hutong.
Winter fun and games Chinese style at Hou Hai Lake.
A brisk, cold walk around Hou Hai Lake
Happy New Year
Beijing City Centre Hostel. More of a hotel really, and our home until boarding the train to Mongolia.
Alighting the train at Beijing Zhan. Any fanciful ideas of lightweight travel out of the window, with all our warm winter clothing on our backs.
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