Riding the Rails on the Trans- Siberian

6/29

At this very moment, I'm on the Trans-Mongolian train from Beijing to Ulan Bator, a branch of the most famous railroad in the world, the Trans-Siberian.  We left Beijing, a long flat city with wide streets and wound our way through mountains and gorges, similar to what you'd expect China to look like, emerging suddenly from the bottom waste into the sky, looming over you unexpectedly.  Some of the cliffs were so high that craning your neck still didn't mean you'd see the top and they were covered in a blend of the dirt, granite and dark green vegetation.

The dirt morphed several times within five minute and we saw it as sand, slate, the pinkish-mauve of dried blood, orange and browned crap.  Our pine green train, decorated with a red star and Russian letters, passed rice paddies and other agriculture, industrial cities, small towns with predominately roofless sandy-pink brick houses, long flat plains, some marred by large, deep scars, and rolling hills.

Just now, as the dirty flat earth and bland water-retaining green reflected bits of the rusty dregs of sunset, we passed into desert.  It was an okay sunset, not great- not like a California sunset or a Swiss one, but pretty enough with primary colored striations in the sky.  I love watching that moment when the very last bit of the sun disappears and it's the witching hour.

Some call that dusk or twilight or l'heure bleu, but there's something special about it that's missing at all other times.  It's a time of suspended possibilities.  The only other time I like as much is at around 3 a.m. when everyone's asleep and for a while, the world is yours.

Unfortunately, my cabinmate, who I think is really odd anyway, since she just stares at me for fairly long periods of time for no reason LIKE SHE IS RIGHT NOW, tried to interrupt.  It was also really annoying because I was obviously busy and annoyed at the two stupid, loud Australians who were standing directly in front of our door so we couldn't just watch from our compartment (and note here that all compartments have the same view so they had no reason to be in our way, they just were).

Said cabinmate is also completely pathetic, and a bitch.  There were problems with me sitting in another cabin (when it was totally legal and legitimate) and she called me slow or said I was just wrong.  Now, she's complaining about having the fan on (and it's hot) because it's too loud for her to sleep (supposedly) and hurts her eyes because apparently she's some little princess.  I told her she should have earplugs and an eyemask or take a plane.  I have no pity for pathetic losers who wallow in their own crap, nor for weakness.  Man up.  I've had to and I know it's not easy, but if you can't eventually, then you're not worth my time.

Since leaving the gorges, the scenery's been quite boring.  Currently, we're at Erlian, the Chinese/Mongolian border and we'll be waiting here for three hours while they change the wheels, since Russian trains (and Mongolian trains which were built under the Russian system) were built six inches farther apart than most other train lines in the world.  We can't get off during that time. 

Except, of course, that soon after I wrote that, we were all forced off, despite what I'd been told earlier.  We've now been here for nearly four hours (I was originally told six, then three, then two- it ended up being almost exactly four in the end) with no signs of moving and not allowed to use the bathroom for the last hour because the workers are a bunch of lazy assholes.  So I had to pee in between the cars, you know, in one of those connecting points in between, the compartments that look like accordians, while a girl watched for me.  I'd considered actually peeing on the carpet in front of the jerks who refused to unlock the bathroom for me (for absolutely no reason) but then I would've had to pee on myself and who knows what kind of trouble I could've gotten into.  It wasn't worth the risk, but damn it would've been good.

The train itself is okay and though a bit old, it's in decent shape and has Western-style toilets.  Our cabin is fine- it helps that they are enclosed and that in mine, only two of the four beds are occupied.  Unfortunately, the restaurant car has terrible food.  Not just bad, like in most of China, but I'd-almost-rather-starve-than-eat-it awful.  It's greasy, gross, oversalted (and I normally like a lot of salt) and overpriced.  On all the other trains I've been on, people have come through with carts offering different options, but on this train, they don't.  Usually, there are also carts outside of trains at the station stops with prepackaged takeaway snack food but of all our stops so far, only one has had these and the only edible thing they had was bowls of noodles- nothing resembling chips, crackers, peanuts or candy, which they almost always have.

I'm very glad I'm traveling with Steph on this journey so I have someone to talk to and play cards with, though I also brought five books to keep me occupied.  Her cabinmates, luckily, are two very decent (though one is extremely chauvinistic) Australian girls who I've enjoyed talking to.

I always think that I need a man like a turtle needs a fork, but I just now realized that I actually do.  Without a man, I have no one to open my beer for me when a bottle opener is unavailable.  I mean, I guess I'd keep the guy around for other reasons as well, but his primary purpose would be to open my beer bottles (currently 600 mL Tsing tao).  Of course, I could just get a bottle opener.  It wouldn't whine, though I suppose it does just lie around a lot.  It would never be selfish, or in fact, expect anything from me save that I continue drinking.  And it would never say or do anything unimaginably idiotic or disappoint or leave me.

But, it probably wouldn't smell nice.  It definitely couldn't kiss me.  A bottle opener, no matter how pretty, would never be as attractive as expressive eyes or strong arms and it could never surprise me and say the right thing either.

6/30

Arrived in Mongolia after waking up to discover they'd somehow changed the Chinese cafeteria-like dining car into this gorgeous wood-carved Mongolian style one.  Rather bizarrely, the landscape and weather here remind me more of the area I grew up in than anywhere else I've ever traveled.  Obviously the streets are dirtier, there are homeless people and street kids, fewer traffic lights, and gers instead of houses but otherwise, based on the way it looks, combined with the fauna and rolling hills, I could easily be in Paso Robles.  It's rather strange and keeps surprising me.

Steffi and I got off the train and said goodbye to the Aussie girls and found the sign with my name on it from a man from the guesthouse since I'd emailed and booked us in ahead and checked into UB Guesthouse. 

I got money out, but Steffi couldn't since her card wasn't working so we spent the rest of the day trying to get that fixed and trying to find a hostel we could stay in during Naadam, the largest festival in Mongolia  which runs from July 11-13 (though apparently all the activities- wrestling, archery and horse racing- finish within the first two days and the third is reserved for celebrating by drinking vodka and beer) so there's no way I'm going to miss that.  Every one we tried was booked out which was frustrating, but we stopped in a cheap bar-restaurant for dinner and had some beef goulash served with rice for dinner.  It was quite good and the meat was very tender but not super-flavorful, though I was so happy to be eating meat again, I didn't mind as much as Steffi (who's German), who told me her Dad's was better.

7/1

Steffi got her money worked out and we went to check her in for her tour.  I wasn't going on it with her since her tour sounded a little bit too hard-core for me and didn't go to the places I wanted to go.  While she did her introduction class, I shopped around for tours and had difficulty finding one that left at the right time, went the right places and cost the right amount.  I Skyped my Mom for a while but she was busy as she and my stepdad were moving out of their apartment to go live on their boat at that very moment (they left soon after I called) so we didn't talk for long.  Steffi came back and we went out for lunch, where I had something that was called barbeque but was basically goulash.  It was good though, and very cheap at 3800 turgish (about $2.65 USD). 

She went to sort out her money and I went to look for more tours.  I found a notice from a British couple at a guest house looking for more people to go on the tour with them.  They wanted to go on exactly the same tour I wanted to go on, leave ASAP, as I did, and it was the right price.  I left a note with my email that the hostel owner promised to give to them and hoped it would work.  I did laundry and then checked my emailed and they'd emailed me telling me they were going to meet at 7 p.m. to book it and to meet them there.  Steffi had sorted her money out thanks to her cute, smart brother (who I'm going to meet when I eventually visit her in Germany) so she paid me back what I'd loaned her and we went to check out another hostel for Naadam.  We finally found one, even though some things seemed odd about it, and paid for the first two nights.  I went to the meeting and we were able to organize and book the tour with six people, a guide and a driver at a rate of $32 USD per day including everything.

So tomorrow I leave on a nine day/eight night tour around Southern Mongolia, during which time I'll see the Gobi Desert, ruined temples, a waterfall, and hot springs.  We'll all sleep in gers (traditional nomadic Mongolian houses/tents), eat Mongolian food, ride camels and horses, drive for hours and hours, and get to take two showers.

Tonight, our whole group went out for Italian food at Veranda, a restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet, which Vicky and Craig (the Brits) seem to regard as holy and virtually infallible.  The restaurant was actually very nice and my dish, penne in a gorgonzola sauce with crispy bacon bits and shredded parmesean cheese, was very good and only cost 10,000 turgish (around $7 USD).