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The Trans-Mongolian

A journey through Russia, Mongolia and China.

By Marcin Konkel

May 20^th, 2020

Aug, 2014

The road keeps constantly re-appearing. Its colours change, in different sequences, between grey, green and yellow. People's faces look anew with every few hundred kilometres together with the food they offer to the passengers at busy train stations. The only constant thing is the same rectangle-shaped train window, samovar serving hot water (although it's already 30 C outside) and people sweating as there is no air conditioning available. Conversations inside appear as often as telephone poles on the never-ending track. The Trans-Mongolian, part of a network of three main routes, educates about cultures, different stories and backgrounds. It's truly a journey, both outer and inner one.

Read the full story below.

FULL TEXT

24 life-altering days

It's late in the evening at Yaroslavsky railway station in Moscow. A building, with a peculiar architecture, looking like a fairytale castle. It's one of nine of the capital's main-line railway terminals and the primary one for Trans-Siberian, Trans-Mongolian and Trans-Manchurian lines going to the Russian Far-East as well as Mongolia and China. I'm with my three high-school/university friends Mikołaj, Daniel and Przemek. We're standing there with our backpacks and glaring eyes as we're recapping how to exchange our digital tickets to physical ones at the station.

I can feel the thrill in the air of one of the biggest adventures I am about to embark on for the coming years. One that will open my eyes to what the world has to offer and encourage more risk-taking, ambitious backpacking. This and an autostop trip I had the same year throughout Europe will give me the push needed for my future endeavours. Those will be the Arctic Circle, Kazakhstan, North Vietnam, jumping roofs in Saint Petersburg and much much more. The Trans-Mongolian experience will inspire me to start a series of retreats annually each year.

This story has happened in August 2014. Although, I shared my experiences in various essays on several websites I decided to revisit it and create a single, higher-quality material with unseen footage, untold stories and my thoughts after a series of events that happened thanks to this journey. Although this will be limited to my photographic skills many years ago I hope to deliver you a better storytelling experience and edit. You won't read many organisational aspects of travelling on the route. There are plenty, more up-to-date, materials out there. It's going to be an intimate portrait of a journey that helped me to believe in myself and change the way I've viewed travel ever since.

Fifty-two different stories

The crowded corridor was packed with people arranging their belongings and getting ready to hit the road. This included taking out various kinds of food prepared at home like fish, eggs, bread and more accompanied with beer or vodka. The whole corridor has been a concert of smells from various kitchens of many homes and did not necessarily play well with August's humidity and high temperature. We settled on our bunks quite nicely and started to look around.

The platzkart (3rd lowest class) carriage can hold up to 52 people - each having their bunk and a separate space for their baggage which is rather large. On the other hand, one could say it's normal taking into consideration the distance. The bottom bunks, during the day, were usually devoted to sitting and social interactions. They were converted to beds in the evening by the provodnik or provoditsa (carriage conductor) or the passengers themselves when the lights were turned off. The bunk beds were rather short thus when moving about in the dark corridor one could accidentally get hit by a foot or another part of the body just hanging out there not fitting what the engineer has planned for.

When there are so many people densely packed in one place interactions are bound to happen. Whether it's around the end of corridors close to toilets, next to the samovar (traditionally used to heat and boil water in Russia) or just when walking by the beds. It happens gradually. People settle down and.. start drinking which seems to shorten the distance between many. You may think it's a cliché from a typical American movie yet this was mainly how I've seen people breaking the ice in Russia. Not all of course, yet that theme dominated throughout my travels and especially during the Trans-Mongolian.

Muhammad the great

This was the case of how we've met Juri who was at the time escaping the conflict zone between Russia and Ukraine in Donetsk, East Ukraine. He was a Russian living there for several years thus he fled East contrary to many Ukrainians. He was working in a processed cheese factory and he visited our space often to have a shot of the strong stuff and brought handful of processed cheese as a zakuska (appetizer).

This was also how we've met two construction workers going on contract to work on a building in the other side of the country. Finally, in the same manner we befriended Muhammad, a Kurd travelling in the same carriage. While some of our guests were trying to make use of our courtesy and have some free shots, Muhammad was a true friend. He was rather short in terms of height but very strong and 'wide' so to speak in terms of built. He didn't have typical Russian looks as one can see in the news. Russia is such a vast country with many ethnic groups thus it's hard to even settle for a typical look.

Our new friend had a genuine interest in hearing our stories and we've heard plenty of his. One of the characteristics of Muhammad was that he was keen on chewing Tajik tobacco and was fond of consuming instant soups (a popular dish during the train ride) with.. mayonnaise from a tube. He was gracious to offer us both to try out yet we settled only for the former. I must say that it was a hell of a strong nicotine hit for all of us and we needed some time to recuperate. Later on we noticed that Muhammad was chewing it several times a day. Well..

To remember us better he's given us nicknames. After that we were: the Professor (for asking many questions), the Shakhtyor (en. miner, due to using a headlamp during the night), the Huligan (en. hooligan, for humor and unsettling nature) and the Istorik (en. historian, for historical knowledge and facts). In this setup we spent the next three days.

Whisky with a general

Trans-Mongolian railway is interesting also for it's bar wagons. In each country that the train is going through there is a different bar and cuisines and looks - Russian, Mongolian and Chinese. While Mongolian is the most extraordinary, Chinese the most organised, we spent the most time in the Russian bar due to how we approached the whole journey.

In the bar wagon we met some new friends among which was a Russian general in his twenties. Yes. At least that was how he presented himself. I'd surmise he was a lieutenant of sort. That being said, one of the platzkart class carriage was filled with troops that reported directly to our new colleague that was around 27 years of age. He was drinking whisky, we were drinking beer. There were laughs and histories to be told. The general visited us a few times in our carriage and we usually ended up drinking vodka. He was going with his troops on a mission in Siberia - something connected with a cartography assignment far North. It's hard to recall due to our intake of booze at the particular time he explained his assignment. As we were conversing on - more people would join to a point where there was not much room left.

At times we played cards - like the Russian game durak (en. fool) where some of our guests wanted to play for money eagerly expecting that we're not quite on par with their skills (quite a coincidence with the game's name) . We did not succumb to the idea and convinced them to play for pure pleasure or, if that was of their preference, a glass of vodka. Those glasses were not regular 25-50 mg ones but often normal glasses where you brewed tea or drunk your coffee. As we stayed late and jet-lag kicked in we were reminded few times that it's already passed 10 p.m. which was 'lights out' time. Each day of the travel on board of the train we would wake up few hours later. Starting at 9 am, then 11 am and on the final day it was 1 pm due to time-zone differences.

An interesting thing was that twice a day, in the morning and evening, all gentleman would go to one side of the carriage to let the ladies change. As there were only two toilets it would take ages for everyone to switch to different attire thus this custom has made its place.

As for the general, he said goodbye in Krasnoyarsk and we parted ways. It was the last major stop before we got off in Irkutsk to spend a few days on an island on the Lake Baikal.

Datcha on the seaside

Getting to Baikal lake from Irkutsk takes six hours in a marshrutka (a typical small bus in Russia) on a mostly gravel road. Due to the road being "grate"-like everything was shaking for the majority of travel as otherwise it might have taken twice the time. The shoes we had under our seats at the back of the car have travelled to the front throughout the trip. The effect on the road shows itself when it is being used by heavy trucks - when the tire enters these small road irregularities it creates a larger gap. The more heavy trucks use the same road the more shaky the journey will be for the smaller cars to follow. In two-thirds of the route you need to use a boat that connects the inhabitants and tourists to the island.

There are several villages of which Khuzir (where we stayed) is the largest one, populated with 1251 inhabitants (as of 2010 census). As I've learned from the locals this number changes in the winter time when people leave their houses to avoid harsh conditions. The tourist season almost ceases to exist with only few guest houses operating in the region. During summer time many Russians from Irkutsk and around travel to Baikal lake for some R&R. The negative effect of these travels is pollution as people rarely think about how they impact the environment. Cars parked on clifs & beaches, garbage laying around and sewage (from factories and inhabitants) being drained to the lake all contribute to a potential disaster.

It's a phenomenon of Baikal that the endemic nature has been able to process most of the pollution but that is always to an extent. For instance, Baikal's endemic fish omul that cannot be found anywhere else in the world is in danger of extinction due to poaching. The regulations that were to save the species are in place but with little to none control.

Lake Baikal, named by some of the first inhabitants as sea due to its vastness, is a place where many of the Russians from the surrounding cities build their datchas. Those from the middle-class construct them in wood while the, so called, 'new Russians' do it with brick and mortar. Those ultra-wealthy build mansions and prefer to call them 'cottages'.

In Khuzir we've found many of the houses were constructed out of wood. We've found a smiliar one that we could stay in. It had toilets outside and a Russian banya adjacent to the house which we've used with great delight. We've also taken few swims in the Baikal itself following few minutes in a hot mobile banya on the shore of the lake.

I miss Baikal every year. It has something unspoken about it. It's not only in the lake being surrounded by mountain ranges or the water being crystal clear. It's also not just the sheer size or the wooden cottage houses. It's something mystical. It's in the stars you see during the night when there is no light pollution, it's in the endless possibilities of exploration and the Siberian rawness. The 'rawness' can be seen in a movie 'The Postman's White Nights' about a postman delivering not only letters or packages but also food and press to remote villages by foot and boat.

Dasha, a friend I met in Irkutsk who now lives in Poland, sends me a few images every year when she visits her family. It always warms my heart and takes me back to the paths and views I've experienced when there. I plan to visit Baikal again but this time during the winter-time. Maybe trying to combine this with Yakutsk which is named the coldest city in the world.

Having spent few days on the island we needed to get back for a train to Ulan-Ude from which we did not have any idea on how to get to Mongolia.

Sorry, how do we get to Mongolia?

I mentioned in the beginning that we divided the Trans-Mongolian journey into several sections. Among those we deliberately did not book two of them: Ulan-Ude to Ulaanbaatar and Ulaanbaatar to Beijing. We knew that the tickets on Trans-Siberian routes are bought out very quickly and that we will need to improvise. That proved to be one of the best decisions we've taken.

On our hostel's door in Ulan-Ude there was information for travellers going to Mongolia. First two options were easy - take a train or a bus. That was not possible as there were no tickets nor for train or the bus. We were left with option number three.

That was where we met Oleg and got to the capital of Mongolia in the most peculiar way.

Golddigger

Having gone through the customs we landed in the village of Altanbulag in Mongolia. We were hungry and saw only a single qubicle-like house on the outskirts of the village. Inside there was a group of locals giving us dodgy looks and a tv with bad reception playing in the corner of this peculiar building. The only dish served in plastic bags were buuzs - a type of Mongolian steamed dumpling filled with meat. We've taken two handful of those for the later part of the day, just in case.

Oleg kept his promise and helped us find a taxi to a near-by town of Sükhbaatar from which we would be able to take a train to the capital of Mongolia. That being said, we had some hours to spare as the train departed in the afternoon. Oleg decided that this calls for a drink and invited us for a mixture of beers and local high-quality vodka which was, as he mentioned it, "cheap as chips" in Mongolia. We followed.

On a side note, as I later learned, there was a story combining the three settlements that we were going through. As Lonely Planet reports:

"Both Khyakhta and Altanbulag are of some historical importance to Mongolians. In 1915 representatives from Russia, China and Mongolia met in Khyakhta to sign a treaty granting Mongolia limited autonomy. At a meeting in Khyakhta in March 1921, the Mongolian People’s Party was formed by Mongolian revolutionaries in exile, and the revolutionary hero Sükhbaatar was named Minister of War."

During our mid-day spent in a small restaurant with a special room for special customers (it was a thing throughout Mongolia, seriously) we learned that our friend was illegally extracting gold in Mongolia which, at the time, mentioned that it has none. On an old broken laptop we watched a series of short movies showing how jeeps were going through muddy roads towards a place as we guessed where the gold was to be found.

The temperature outside of the venue was scorching hot and the alcohol mixing with the dense and humid atmosphere only accelerated its negative side effects. Fortunately, the local train station was not far away and soon we've taken a stroll that helped us to recover from the audacity of the storytelling. Having jumped on the train in a no-time we arrived in Ulaanbaatar during the small hours of the next day. The capital city of Mongolia was founded in 1639 as a nomadic Buddhist monastic centre yet having plenty of statues of the one and only Genghis Khan. Genghis was the Emperor of the Mongol Empire which became the largest contiguous empire in history after his death.

Milions of tugriks

Mongolia was the first experience on the route when I felt that things are quite different and we're far from Europe. The terrain was dead flat with quite a different fauna than Siberia. The Mongolian steppe was stretching over the horizon when we were en route to the largest metal statue of a man riding a horse in the world where we got with our rented UAZ. This Russian car was a phenomenon to me. Its chassis seems to be able to survive anything. Literally, anything. It's simple in construction and simple in repairs yet breaks down often. Well, you can't have it all can you?

The statue itself was huge and the surrounding area almost empty. Instead of hundreds (200 to be exact) of yurts that were to surround the monument we've seen a handful or so in 2014 although the government having spent US$4.1 million on the complex already. In the museum there was a huge shoe made of leather and exhibitions relating to the Bronze Age and Xiongnu archaeological cultures in Mongolia. The view from atop was interesting but, as Mongolia is mostly flat, you couldn't see much differentiate it when standing on the ground.

Having been in Mongolia only for few days and without a ticket for the train we were in need to quickly secure our transport. That was in order to make our flight from Beijing that we booked in advance. We asked for tickets at the train station - all sold out. Bummer. Going via a bus would take days if that was even a possibility. We needed a workable alternative.

We've asked around and were directed to a dodgy old building which looked rather abandoned. A structure with falling off plasters that had a dirty banner over it indicating there was something inside - a travel office. We went inside. We saw a middle-aged lady with curly dark hair sitting behind the desk with a huge old-school calculator next to which she had a fake Chinese Louis-Vuitton bag with a padlock on it. The small room had a miniature flag of Mongolia on one wall under which there was an old photograph of Hong-Kong panorama with some wallpaper coming off. On the other wall was a clock and a small map of the world. In general it was a cubicle-like room with old furniture.

We tried to explain that we're from abroad to which she just smiled politely as English was not on her list of spoken languages although the banner outside was in English. We've tried Russian combined with hand gestures - it worked much better and soon we were counting millions of tugriks (local currency) for four tickets to Beijing departing in two days.

The drill here is that most of the tickets are sold out due to local travel agencies buying out many of them to resell for a higher price to tourists or locals that didn't make the purchase in time. The same concerns the tickets for the whole three Trans-Siberian routes. In 2014 they could be booked online just only 45-60 days before the travel. That means that you probably had already arranged other means of transport to get there in order to have the best price by booking early. At least that was what we did. If we didn't manage to get the tickets we might need to shorten some of the cool plans we had. A new journey was soon to begin.

Before the breakfast time has come we were to travel to go through the Gobi desert steppe. It was really hot out there with a cloudless sky. Fortunately, our carriage was equipped with a simple fan that made the trip a bit more bearable.

The vast nothingness of the flat steppe outside the window together with the chatter of the wheels was calming, relaxing and cleared the mind from unnecessary thoughts. Sometimes a lonely camel could be seen in the distance or a small settlement in the middle of nowhere. Apart from that we could only see the telephone poles appearing and disappearing in front of the windows.

In our compartment we played cards, shared our highlights and drunk some local beer that we’ve bought before the travel. We passed on camels milk and Genghis Khan’s army food (local beef jerky kind of product) as they did not tingle our tastebuds in a positive way when we first tried them in the capital.

The time was flying and it was already late in the night when we reached Erenhot - a Chinese border city with it’s fondness of dinosaurs. It is known for the discovery of a number of different dinosaurs as well as a huge bridge over a highway with kissing Sauropods on the outskirts of the city. We got to know it as the place where the boogies ware changed. As Chinese and Mongolian (as well as Russian) railways have different break-of-gauge the train could not directly enter the country. As Wikipedia informs:

“It is widely and incorrectly believed that Imperial Russia chose a gauge broader than standard gauge for military reasons, namely to prevent potential invaders from using the rail system.“

The whole process was remarkable. The carriages, one by one, entered a large hall where each was lifted with large brackets together with the passengers. Nobody could leave the train or use the toilet yet we were left with working electricity! We could see, on adjacent carriages, the Mongolian boogies being exchanged for the new ones and the trains lowered down on them. Some people were mesmerised in the windows while others used this time for sleep. The exercise took around 2-3 hours in total. Having gone through this process and customs control we were off to Beijing.

Option number three

We did what the instructions in the hostel said. We got up early in the morning to make it for the first marshrutka so we wouldn't spend the whole day travelling. The bus was packed full. No space to move. The narrow corridor was full of bags as there was no trunk in the back of the car - all space was occupied with seats. One of the entertainment features for this long ride was a small tv in front. The driver thoughtfuly put on a Mongolian karate movie which was.. A unique experience.

The small bus was to take us to the border in Kyakhta - a small Russian town. The act of crossing was not an obvious one as it could not be done afoot. Only cars were allowed. As an old adage says: "When there is a need - there is a way" and somebody who creatively solves the problem. Oleg who we met in marshrutka heard our debates on how to get to the capital of Mongolia and offered his assistance. When we got to the border he showed us a local taxi that was going back and forth all day through the border to enable people without a vehicle to get through.

If you've seen at least once MTV's show 'Pimp My Ride' then you wouldn't be surprised by the uplifting this taxi got. You had it all - leather upholstered roof, colour-matched curtains and funky music playing on the radio. It couldn't get any better.

In the break of dawn we’ve slowly woken up after having slept only a couple of hours and directed ourselves to the restaurant carriage with our breakfast vouchers. I cannot exactly recall what was served but I know I wasn’t in a hurry as the landscapes that played in front of the windows were something I’ve never seen. The train went through a series of tunnels as the tracks were placed high in the mountains. We could admire rock formations, hills, rivers, artificial lakes and railroad bridges as well as highways suspended over it all.

Hutongs

Our arrival to Beijing was abrupt yet gradual at the same time. It happened an hour after the breakfast when we were longing for some more time to chill. It was gradual as breaking through the urban tissue was quite a long process and the train slowed down and sped up every now and then. Outside our windows we've seen huge blocks of flats densely populated with windows one after the other. With our traditional carriage, so to speak, we've also passed numerous high-speed trains and at least one huge railway terminal.

After that we got to Beijing in no-time and went straight to our hostel. It was located among the capital's historic hutongs. A community of small and narrow streets that created a tight maze where people lived and offered their services.

"In Beijing, hutongs are alleys formed by lines of siheyuan, traditional courtyard residences. Many neighbourhoods were formed by joining one siheyuan to another to form a hutong, and then joining one hutong to another. The word hutong is also used to refer to such neighbourhoods." - Wikipedia

Many of the hutongs have been demolished making way to new and much taller buildings trying to cope with ever-increasing number of residents and making more money in prestigious locations. Some hutongs started to be protected as part of country's heritage. What's interesting - first such communities started in the 1279 in the Yuan dynasty.

Our stay in Beijing was brief to say the least. We had exactly 2,5 days before our plane took off for Europe. We've designated this time to seeing the Great Wall of China which took us one whole day, eating local dishes and strolling the streets. My unsatisfied hunger says I'll be back one day - especially to the countryside.

Epilogue

It's hard to grasp the whole breadth of the journey. Here I shared only some of the highlights. Twenty four days is ample time for reflection and experiencing the new - especially when considerable time is spent in travel. The whole endeavour was about embracing the change and the unknown but also embracing ourselves and others as they are without unnecessary emotions. During few of my appearances in travel clubs or the radio I mentioned similar learnings: trust yourself, be open and curious of other people. When I have this in place I usually can take a lot from a single trip and share more with others I meet. It does not matter whether that's giving them my attention, sharing stories, playing cards, helping out in something or telling their story on this blog. It all should come from the moment of authenticity and genuine interest rather than trying to do something 'because you should'.

I want to take this even further and dig deeper in a more reportage style story telling and engaging more into the topics I care for and find important. Thanks for joining me in this story spanning throughout half of the world and several thousand kilometres of adventure. Stay tuned for more to come.