Busman's Holiday

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Got on train number 4 bound for Beijing at 21:00, then it left at 21:35. After the evil Tobias at Intourist had sent us 2nd class ticket vouchers, even though we'd paid for 1st class and he'd ignored our complaint letter, we were amazed and delighted to find our 1st class berth. Two beds (bunks), an armchair and table, plenty of luggage space and a shared washbasin room with the couple next door. Luxury.

We dumped our bags and went straight to the dining car to check out the beer situation. Plenty. We decided to order some food - shashlik - tasted lovely. Met an Aussie called Gary who proved to be the life and soul of the train and, in true Aussie fashion, a big boozer - and a couple who live in Bath, Mark and Sharon, who were on their honeymoon. We stayed in the dining car until we were thrown out, then adjourned for vodka in Mark and Sharon's compartment. A thoroughly good evening.

Next day not so cheery. The shashlik manifested itself in ways we'll leave to your imagination. At least, Steve's blaming that. Orla ate the same thing and was fine. However, the chef smoking in the kitchen hadn't given the cleanest of impressions.

The next few days spent with Steve lying down, sleeping, running to the loo, while Orla read, admired the scenery and ate bread, chocolate and cup-a-soup. It's easy to meet people on the train even when compartment bound. With the door open, there is continuous traffic up and down the train and people stop and chat. There's not a lot else to do!!!

Thankfully, by day 4, Steve was feeling better.

Everyone was dreading the Russian border crossing. Stories, supported by guide books, told of corrupt guards who find excuses to fine you and rob you blind of your cash. However, nothing happened at all. An anti-climax but a relief!!

We'd started to adjust our body-clocks to Mongolia time 2-3 days before our arrival, even though the train continues to run on Moscow time (5 hour time difference). As we rolled into Ulaanbataar at 8am, we said goodbye to Mark and Sharon, who were wasted, having just left a party in the dining car.

As we stepped onto the platform, there were bright blue skies, as promised of Mongolia, "the land of blue sky".

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