After meeting in Beijing in the tourist hell that is Qianmen, my Spanish friend Pablo and I took the thirty-hour leg of the trans-Siberian railway from Beijing to Ulaan Bataar. A common enough way to get into Mongolia.
China
Pablo and cheap chinese beer
I had no problem with the length of the train ride. It’s the four hours the bathrooms were closed while they changed train tracks and went through two different border patrols. Luckily we jumped off the train or we would have been stuck for two hours while the train honked horns and slammed onto a different rail gauge over and over again. The second two hours were getting through the Mongolian border where police kept checking all the bunks, pacing the halls, (this is one in the morning mind you), and of course ALL THE BATHROOMS ARE LOCKED. I was dying. And Aunt Flow was making a grand appearance. And after taking my passport for at least two hours – they didn’t stamp it. We’ll see what happens when I try to get out of the country.
Mongolia
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