Early start this morning to catch our train to Darkhan in the North. Our guide for the next two weeks, Unuruu, meets us at the station and before we board we ask a local if she can take a photo of all of us in front of our train carriage. The young woman tells Unuruu that I have a beautiful nose and eyes. “Beautiful!” she says in English. Unuruu says the locals like the longer, protruding noses Westerners have.
We climb aboard. The train appears to be a throwback of the Soviet era with flat bunks for seating, a hot water station for tea or ramen noodles and fake wood panelling on the walls. Oliver and I claim the upper bunks. Padraig informs me I’m in his “seat” to which I jokingly reply,
“I was just trying to help an old guy out.”
Padraig whips out his notebook and says he’s making a note of my derogatory comment and asks John to witness it with the date and time.😀
I’m giddy with excitement of being on a train again. It’s one of my favourite ways to travel. Brings me back to my childhood when I lived in a railway station. We’re provided with a towel, pillow, sheet and blanket. I settle in to enjoy the eight hour journey.
The female conductors are dressed like airline stewardesses in bright purple suit jackets, skirts and a small hat. We get on the bad side of the head conductor from the get go when she sees we have our shoes on while laying on the top bunk despite the shoes not touching the bunk. For the rest of the journey she gives us the stink eye every time she passes our compartment.
There are some kids in the other compartments so I dig out my balloons and John starts doling them out. One of the boys, Sudbileg, who has a noggin the size of a pumpkin comes to our compartment and entertains us with singing a song. We clap and cheer, he gives a little bow and races off to his compartment. He returns a short while later gesturing that he would like another balloon and I blow one up for him. He’s entertaining himself with batting the balloon up and down the corridor with his giant head and hands.
Throughout the journey, Sudbileg comes to our compartment to impart his sparse English which includes, “Thank you, my sister, you me we go”. I go to his carriage and meet his sister, Miigaa. I ask if it’s ok for me to take a photo of Sudbileg and they both nod in agreement. I print off the photo on my mini printer and return to their compartment and offer it as a gift. They both clap their hands in amazement, while bowing their heads in thanks.
Sudbileg comes to our carriage to bring me back to Miigaa and she gifts me bread and salami. I thank her profusely and return to my compartment to share the spoils with the boys. As we’re eating, Miigaa comes to ask if I can take a photo of her and Sudbileg together and I tell her, “Of course!” Sudbileg stands erect with a stern expression and when I mimic for him to smile, I get an all teeth expression like a Cheshire cat. After I print off the photos Miigaa asks me to sign them and I write, “Hello from Canada! Jennifer”. She shows me a photo of her and her husband and is trying to ask me for something but I can’t figure out what it is, untilit comes to me. She wants another print of her and Sudbileg for her husband. And just like that, I’ve started a photography business in Mongolia!
I ask how old Sudbileg is thinking he’s 10 or 11 and Miigaa says he’s 6. What?!! This kid is huge!! Miigaa laughingly says, “He really likes food.” We all start giggling and Sudbileg is asking why we’re laughing and when he’s told what his sister said, he gets a look of absolute disbelief that his sister would sell him out like that.
We choose our lunch from a food cart and have numerous options including packaged ramen, a type of burger and cooked noodles. I choose ramen and go to the end of our carriage to get some hot water, carefully walking back to our carriage so as not to spill my soup. We’re given paper cups fitted with plastic handles filled with tea.
Another railway employee swings by our compartment to say hi and to ask how we like Mongolia. We offer him some salami and he wishes us a good trip. I haven’t seen any other foreigners on the train so I guess we’re a bit of a novelty. The dragon lady conductor doesn’t seem too pleased with us playing balloon volleyball in the aisle. Add that to the list of train etiquette misdemeanours.
As we’re nearing our train stop in Darkhan, dragon lady asks Unuruu if I can take a photo of her in her official conductor uniform. Despite pissing her off, she can’t resist the temptation of a photo. I snap a couple of her and her co-worker and when I present the printed copies to her I’m rewarded with a smile.
We arrive at our stop and our driver for the trip, Ganbaa, is awaiting us. His trusty steed is a dark grey Russian Forgon, which is like a jacked up VW for off-road. The interior has a bright orange leather padded ceiling and side panels. Turquoise tasseled curtains cover the windows and a multi-coloured rug covers the floor. It reminds me of a disco. Ganbaa has driven through the night from Ulaanbaatar with all our luggage to meet us at the train. He has a ready smile and is a competent driver weaving the Grey Beast through the chaotic traffic.
We go to a local cafeteria for dinner and I give away balloons to two boys. It’s endless entertainment and they’re playing a type of volleyball with one of the female staff. The boys repeatedly look over at our table shyly. As we’re exiting the cafeteria, there’s a swarm of young boys in school uniforms who start saying hello. One of the boys is a little braver than the others and approaches me to say hello. I ask him if he would like a Canada pin and pin it onto his jacket. All the boys crowd around to see what I’ve given him and then run off shouting goodbye in English.
We start our two hour drive to Amarbayasgalant Monastery where we’ll be spending the night. The landscape is stunning. The hills in the distance are lit with sunlight and the plowed fields alternate between dark soil and yellow coloured grain. I beg Ganbaa to make a quick stop so I can take a photo. A farmer is herding his sheep by motorbike and cows dot the fields. The road is paved and in decent condition so we’re making good time.
The paved road abruptly stops as we head West. The reddish brown dirt tracks lead us through green valleys, past herds of roaming horses and over shallow creeks and rivers. The dirt tracks crisscross over each other like bypasses on a highway and I marvel at Ganbaa’s internal GPS.
I’m sitting in a seat that faces backward and once the rollercoaster ride starts on the unpaved roads I swing sideways in my seat while trying to keep an eye on the horizon to fight off the motion sickness. Because of the suspension of the van and that the engine is in the middle between the two backseats, it’s not a jarring, bumpy off-road ride but more like a rolling from side to side.
Unuruu asks us if we need “nature toilet” which is, yes you guessed it, a pee break. Amusing phrase, but also accurate.
We arrive at our host’s house and she welcomes us with milk tea, homemade biscuits and candies. I make up a little gift bag for her consisting of a mini sewing kit, hair ties, scrunchies and a bandana and give them to her in thanks for her warm welcome. Darisuren lives in her little house alone as her husband passed away ten years ago, but has five adult children. One of her sons lives in this village and is a herder. Unuruu translates this information to us so we’re able to ask questions. She’s 72 years old, but robust and healthy. She sews the robes for the monks in the monastery to supplement her income along with hosting tourists in her gers.
Unuruu, Ganbaa and our host are talking amongst themselves and start laughing. Unuruu says that she’s telling them that we’re fun but also crazy😃. She’s only known us for a day and already thinks we’re nuts. Good judge of character.
There are two guest gers that are toasty warm by the roaring wood stoves. As the only female I get a ger to myself, while the boys share the other one. They’re spacious inside with numerous wood cots surrounding the outer circular edge, a wood stove in the middle and a small sink with a container holding fresh water to have a quick wash. The walls are covered with flowered fabric and the floor is a patterned linoleum. The village has electricity and there’s a light in the middle of the ger. It takes me a few minutes of looking around to figure out where the light switch is. Where is the most logical place for a switch in a circular felt tent? 🤔
I make up my cot with a sleeping pad, sleeping bag and thick blanket. Long-johns and a base layer are my pj’s and I settle in to sleep. I’m hoping for clear skies in the morning to see sunrise.
Fab post! I almost feel like I was along for the ride!
Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it😊