Ulan Ude I stepped off the train onto the platform of Russia, surprised that the country actually did exist. I had somehow grown up with the notion that this was a no man's land, some verboten territory of inhumane machines. Never had I the slightest dream of ever coming here to this shabby train station occupied by louche loiterers. Yet here I was. And this was Russia. Although the guidebook outlined several attractions in Ulan Ude I wasn't quite sure what I was meant to enjoy about this place. As the overcast morning shrouded any brilliant impression, I charged through the crowds in the station, past the taxi drivers soliciting rides and up onto a rusty pedestrian walkway bridge returning over the converging tracks. I gave one last look down at the departing Trans-Mongolian with its
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