Spring in Mongolia

Waking up after my first night sleeping on the Trans-Mongolian railway (after we cross into Russia we switch onto the Trans-Siberian line) I looked out the window for a first glimpse of the Gobi Desert. As I unfolded myself from the top bunk, I realized that much of the desert had made its way into our sleeping compartment through the open window. Looking at the sand storms through the window was good enough for me, but until we got off the train in Ulaan Baatar, the capital of Mongolia, we had a much more intimate experience with the desert as the sand coated our hair, faces and clothes.

I am now traveling with a group of people for a total of three weeks in an organized tour, and being told where to go, when to catch the next train and which restaurants are the good ones has been very relaxing. After spending over three months taking care of my own itinerary, it is nice to be coddled. Whenever I feel that we are being herded around like imbeciles, I just remind myself that I am basically without any responsibilities, which is a trade I am currently willing to make. There are eleven of us in total, including our Uzbek guide, Laziz. Laziz speaks seven-and-a-half languages (his Cantonese is a little rusty so he doesn't give himself full credit for that one) and has made this trip more times than he can count. His estimate is 49 times. One word to describe Laziz: Capable.

To give you a quick run-down of the rest of the group: There are four Canadians including me: Mike (40), from Vancouver, Nicky (43), also from Vancouver and Jenn (32) from Montreal. Y.K. and Marjie are a retired Chinese-American couple who travel to China every year, and we have two women from Australia; Amy (25) and Madeleine (43). Rounding out the group are more solo travelers; Helgar (59), a South-African, and Elizabeth (27), an Austrian. Everyone is traveling solo except for Y.K and Marjie, and we have all gotten along well in the last week. It has been good to trade stories and hear about such wide-ranging life experiences that are found in a group like this. There are other groups on the train as well, and if anyone ever needs a break from constant company they can just walk to the next carriage to visit someone new. One of these other groups that is following our exact itinerary is a young, hard-drinking Aussie group, and they have extended me an open invitation to their carriage where it seems there is always a party going on.

Pulling into Ulaan Baatar, the most remote capital on earth, reminded me quite a bit of Fort McMurray in the spring. The grass has a slight green tinge in certain places, but most of it is grey and brown, and the dirt and garbage hidden by the winter's snow is being blown up and down the sidewalks. Outside the city there is still ice in the calm shallows of the rivers and snow is hiding in the shade of some of the trees. Still, the weather is beautiful, and I am comfortable in shorts and sandals. We stayed two nights in a hotel in U.B., as the locals call it, and last night we headed out to Terlej National Park where we stayed in a Ger camp. The stark countryside has a wild beauty about it and when I climbed up into the hills north of our camp, the view was breathtaking. It would be great to come back in July when the grass is completely green and the trees are in full leaf, but the scenery is fantastic nonetheless.

Tonight we catch the train at nine in the evening and spend two nights and one day in constant motion. The train travels at an average speed of 60 km/hr, not exactly a blistering pace, but when you are on it for forty hours at a stretch the distance seems to melt away. We will cover over six thousand kilometers as the crow flies - I haven't had the heart to figure out how many hours I will be on train - but the train is actually quite comfortable. We sleep in second-class carriages, so four beds to a berth, and while I can't quite stretch out, I only remind myself what it is like to travel by air and that makes me feel significantly better.