bohemian rhapsody- part 1

I am not sure anymore when Mongolia crept into my itinerary.

my reasons for visiting Mongolia, besides pure fascination with a country with the lowest per capita population density, almost seem too logical now- I don’t need a visa, I don’t need a guide (Tibet does), Its close to China and so, very approachable. Nepal and India can be visited anytime (ironically the very reason why I haven’t traveled in India yet)

so, amidst the Olympics thrills and chills, I make an impulse decision and go looking for the ticket counter for the trans-Siberian in Beijing. Its not one of the trains you just show up for ;)

the morning after the closing ceremony, I wake up with a very upset tummy. I spend the entire day in bed, while contemplating if I can make it through a 30 hour train journey to Mongolia. There’s nothing some good old khichdi (rice and lentils) won’t fix. So I hail a taxi to the closest Indian restaurant and on special request, and enjoy two servings of some fine khichdi.

sure enough I am off to Mongolia early next morning. I even grab an egg McMuffin on my way there!

It’s my first brush with Americans- I share my cabin with Keith, an American journalist who will be cycling in Mongolia for 2.5 months and with David and Josh, father and son, Americans but living in China for the last 10 years. David runs an orphanage close to Beijing.

after about 12 hours of customary introductions and an engaging, interesting accompanying dialogue, we reach the Chinese border town- Erlian. We are all told to disembark from the train while it is taken off the platform to change the gauge for Mongolian tracks.

meanwhile, at the only store in the immigration building at Erlian, fellow travelers are busy loading up on pounds and pounds of groceries. later I would understand why. Everything in Mongolia is exported from China, almost no vegetables are grown there. In our 19 day countryside tour, we saw one vegetable patch (and DC drove over it!!).

we reach Ulan Bataar, the capital, in the afternoon. A poor country landlocked by two massive empires is nothing like what I imagined it to be. There are Land Rovers, Mercedes, Toyotas on the roads with an abundance of jay-walkers. In the center of it all, there is five stories of the State Department Store, a monument in its league, with cosmetic and sports counters, just like at Macys, only with more cashmere.

a stop at the English bookstore gives me a better picture of the city, an LP Mongolia and the Mongolian phrasebook. At another stop at a popular guesthouse scouting for travel partners, I see a vague notice by a dreamer who wants to go on a long trip to the countryside- north, south, west.. Exactly what I wanted—so I mail Alex and wait for a reply.

that evening, I watch a traditional Mongolian folk song and dance performance after a very commercial Mongolian barbecue. I try the horse meat, cow intestines, salty tea, sheep fat tail and have a grand finale of my experimenting with a healthy (and super-sized) serving of tofu and veggies. Mongolian barbecue, after all, isn’t really all that Mongolian.

things begin to look up the following morning as we decide to meet in a café along with two other interested people. Unfortunately, four isn’t enough to make the trip economical (Contrary to my expectations, Mongolia is an expensive country) Just when we almost give up, two girls, who had been pestered by Alex earlier, walk in and ask sheepishly if we still have space in our group—and just like that, the trip is on.

its 3 PM. We leave at 9 AM tomorrow.