We Miss the Provodnitsa



Trans-Mongolian (not very express)



The first thing we noticed as our train rolled into the station was that it was not a Russian train, but a Chinese one. It was the Number 4 that makes the trip from Beijing to Moscow. After being aboard for a bit we decided that we missed the “provodnitsa”. A Chinese train car is a bit more Spartan than the Russian version. Then benches are harder, the sheets don’t fit as well and the car is not as clean. It wasn’t all bad though because we discovered that the hot water pot that each train has is heated with charcoal on a Chinese train. By the time we arrived in Ulaan Baatar we were very glad we hadn’t ridden that train all across Russia.



Coal!



We managed to win the cabin mate lottery again (meaning we did not get stuck with a creepy/smelly/smoking guy). This time we landed with a Mongolian college student on her way home for the summer from Ekaterinaburg where she studies. She was also our first roommate who spoke English. She helped us fill out the customs form that was entirely in Mongolian Cyrillic.



The most tiresome parts of this leg of the trip were the border crossings. Our stay on the Russian border was scheduled for 216 minutes and it ran over. First they came through and collected out passports and left the train with them. We waited. A customs agent came through and wanted to look at our bags. She laughed at the samovar we purchased and left. We waited. A few men with large German Shepherds walked through. We waited. A woman with a flashlight ordered us out of the compartment and tossed it like it was our cell on Alcatraz. We waited. The sky grew dark. The lady with the passports came back and returned them. And we waited. Finally the train rolled on. After a few kilometers we arrived at the Mongolian border post. We waited. A customs agent came and stamped our declarations. We waited. A man and a woman in crisp green uniforms came and took our passports away. We waited. A woman with a flashlight (Mongolian this time) tossed our compartment like it was our cell in a low security prison. We waited. The sun set and night fell. Crickets chirped in the tall grass and mosquitoes buzzed in through open windows. People grew old and died. And we waited. The crisp green uniforms returned with our passports. After a bit more waiting we rolled on into the steppe.



Beautiful Mongolia





We planned to pass out for the five hours left to us of the night. Except we didn’t because the Chinese train steward wanted our sheets at 5:30 – never mind we were at least 30 minutes behind and never going to make the 6:30 arrival. Ah well, we admired the lush Mongolian countryside. Rolling, treeless hills of velvety green dotted with gers and their attendant horse herds.