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And Cross Time Zones Without Realising
Reaching Beijing Station early Wednesday morning, the group finds the K2 train that will be our home for the next 33 hours. The excitement is tempered by the fact that for the next day and a half, cupped noodles are going to be the staple diet with some rice and undistinguishable meat thrown in from the dining cart for good measure.
Leaving Beijing behind, the mood was jubilant with active conversation floating from cabin to cabin (and the usual banter between the New Zealanders and myself) before the scenery changed from buildings and nuclear power plants to the mountainous regions of the day before. Nearly losing my camera, not to mention my arm, as I was hanging out the window taking a photo when a tunnel snuck up on me, I decided the safer option was to keep the window closed. Not a drama once getting through the mountains and the lands flatten out and become monotonous.
With sporadic farming and the odd station behind us, most decided it was time to catch up on some sleep or pulled out laptops and ipods to retreat into their own worlds. Before realising, the
scenery had changed and the vista through the windows became more arid, less domesticated, and a lot less populated. Stations were further apart and became a novelty upon arrival.
After 14 hours, around 9.30pm, we reached the border crossing between China and
Mongolia. Not a normal border crossing by any means!!!
20 minutes before arriving at the station the toilets on the train get locked, so after drinking the past 4 hours away, this was the worst possible situation possible. Diving into the station to find release and replenish for the next stint, we headed back towards the train only to find that the station attendants had locked the doors and the train was pulling away. Mike and myself are left sitting at the station, no passports (as they had been taken to get the departure stamp), no English speaking personnel, and no clue to how long we were stuck there. The problem…. China (like the rest of the world) uses a certain gauge train tracks. Russia and Mongolia (unlike the rest of the world) uses a slightly smaller gauge and so the entire undercarriage of the train must be changed so that the wheels are closer together.
The time it takes…. nearly two hours or the equivalent of all the beers we had come off the train and bought.
Back on the train, with much relief, we received our passports back from the Chinese authorities and travelled the couple of kilometres to the Mongolian checkpoint. Now closing in on 1.30am, and with all proceedings done, we head into the Southern Gobi and at last some sleep.
Waking to a completely different view again, we were greeted by camels and the odd worn down establishment in a land with no trees and very little in the way of greenery at all. Most surprising of all was the tiny snow flakes falling all around with the temperature sitting below ten degrees. The sandy plains slowly gave way to grassy steppes, and vegetation gradually returned as we headed to
Ulaan Bataar.
Arriving on what seemed to be “Thai time” (about two hours late), we headed for the into the largest permanent, nomadic settlement in the world.
“To my mind, the greatest reward and luxury of travel is to be able to experience everyday things as if for the first time, to be in a position in which almost nothing is so familiar it is taken for granted.” - Bill Bryson
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