Steppe-ing Into Mongolia - Part 1

Wednesday, July 06, 2011 Eva 0 Comments

Chinese border stop

Sainuu from Mongolia!  We’ve moved on from China on the early morning Trans-Mongolian train.  This was an overnighter from Beijing. 
There were few dunes here, however, it was mostly flat - dry grassy steppes dotted with the occasional double-hairy-humped Bactrian camel, groups of sheep, horses or cattle and the occasional little encampment of gers (round nomadic tents). In the far distance the purpley haze of mountain ranges.


 Unfortunately, the majority of us who chose to get off the train were literally padlocked into the immigration hall at the station for the next 3 – 4 hours as the train was shunted off to the sheds.  We saw nothing of the bogie changing but it was a good opportunity, however, to meet and chat with other passengers and spend our last remaining Chinese yuan at the tax-free supermarket stocking up on snacks. 

This, we knew, was the first of a number of long, slow border crossings.  Being the first border crossing made it all rather exciting and new.  Finally, just before midnight, we were allowed to board the train where it slowly made its way across to the Mongolian border.  More guards and officials in different uniforms boarded the train early the next morning, more formalities and once again passports taken away.  Yippee, we get another stamp in the passport. What is it about the pleasure of seeing that official rubberstamp in the passport? 

Our Mongolian coal-powered train

The overnight Trans-Mongolian train slowly chugged us into Mongolia’s capital, Ulaanbaatar, past the dry dusty outskirts of town dotted with traditional gers set amongst wooden houses, wooden fences and concrete Soviet-style apartment buildings. Over the fences of small plots of dirt we could see tiny animal barns whose roofs were thickly coated with drying animal dung – for insulation and for fuel.    

On our train we had befriended a Mongolian man returning home with his wife and young son from a year’s contract in Kuwait.  When I asked him if he was happy to be back home he said no and that they were keen to leave soon for another job (they were both investment bankers) in Holland and maybe south-east Asia after that.  He labelled UB as an ugly city and as we were to find out for ourselves ……………he was right!














UB is a dusty, unkempt and uncared-for city. It could certainly vie for the ugliest capital city awards. Its people have to put up with unfinished pavements, poorly surfaced and badly pitted roads, piles of rubble and very little greenery or landscaping. For us it was dislike at first sight.  With its huge mineral resources you’d expect to see some flow-on benefits into the city.  But then again we’re from mineral-rich West Australia where we’re experiencing a similar lack of flow-on effect.  Who are we to judge or complain!  

UB's main street

LG Guesthouse, the hostel that we had booked on the internet, arranged to pick us up from the train station and it was a couple of minutes’ drive to get there, in a not so nice area of rundown apartment buildings overlooking a very sad and dusty grey children’s playground on one side and a view across to the railway lines on the other.  However, walking the streets of UB it was not much better elsewhere. Staff at this hostel are always busy cleaning and scrubbing, so it was evident that even though it didn’t look its best the place was very clean.


Well, its location wasn’t great but one of the best things about our hostel was the helpful staff who organised to pick up our Trans-Mongolian train tickets for us for the next sector, and arranged private tours just for the two of us with guide and a driver in their Toyota Landcruiser.  I think the owner took stock of our ages as she steered us away from their budget tours in a Russian minivan, and stressed that the private tour would be “more comfortable”.  We read between the lines and took her advice.

Mother's & Children's Day in main square

The day we arrived into UB coincided with Mother's and Children’s Day, a public holiday, and the city centre was filled with families.  With so many babies and young children it was instantly evident that Mongolia has a young population. Going against worldwide trends, Mongolia is experiencing baby booms and women are having babies younger.  This can only be a good thing for a country with such a small population.  We were immediately targeted by a very young pickpocket who patiently waited for us to finish our outdoor café meal before following us around.  We were very aware of him as we pushed past the throngs of people and kept a tight hand over our belongings. Shouting at him to go away did nothing to deter him. I eventually scared him off by saying to Max, loudly enough for the boy to hear, the word "police" then walked towards a traffic cop.  You should have seen him bolt.


Weather was mostly sunny, cold and very dry. Terrible for the skin!  We noticed that Mongolians drive on the right-hand side of the road, but peculiarly, they drive cars that can be either left- or right-hand drive. It’s your choice!  Luxury cars are a waste here as the roads would mince their suspension to shreds.  You need a workhorse such as a Toyota, but the 4-wheel drive vehicle reigns supreme here – the new camel in the desert.

Our journey was tame in comparison as we prepared for some rural respite away from the city surrounds.