Monday, 22 August 2011
Thursday, 5 May 2011
Final Week - Moscow to Worcester
We pick up the pace as we leave Moscow, both the kids now fully recovered and back on form. The countryside becomes greener as we move from spring in Russia into the full blown summer of Belarus, Poland and Germany. We enjoy the clean and orderly broad streets of Berlin, perhaps our favorite city, as we tour the East Wall Gallery, check point charlie and the Chancellory and then it's off to Paris from Central Station, the most spectacular of the trip.
The high speed train whisks us overnight through the bright yellow rape seed fields of France to the Louvre, Arc de Triomphe and sunset over the Eiffel Tower. Heading out at dawn for my last run on this epic journey, I pause to watch the sun rise from the Place de la Concorde and look back over the weeks at the places we have been. The splendor of Bangkok's temples, the dusty streets of Laos, the no nonsense Chinese, hard Mongolian traders, Red Square and the familiarity of Europe and see it all before me as the dream that it is.
I believe we have all learnt something from this adventure - about ourselves, about each-other and about the people who live on this vast continent who despite their many differences are united in the common needs and desires, fears and joys of the human condition. Throughout our travels we have been overwhelmed by the kindness of our fellow human beings who's warmth, help, hospitality and friendship have been constant companions. We return home invigorated by this magical journey and with our faith stronger than ever...
- Posted by Dave using BlogPress from my iPad
The high speed train whisks us overnight through the bright yellow rape seed fields of France to the Louvre, Arc de Triomphe and sunset over the Eiffel Tower. Heading out at dawn for my last run on this epic journey, I pause to watch the sun rise from the Place de la Concorde and look back over the weeks at the places we have been. The splendor of Bangkok's temples, the dusty streets of Laos, the no nonsense Chinese, hard Mongolian traders, Red Square and the familiarity of Europe and see it all before me as the dream that it is.
I believe we have all learnt something from this adventure - about ourselves, about each-other and about the people who live on this vast continent who despite their many differences are united in the common needs and desires, fears and joys of the human condition. Throughout our travels we have been overwhelmed by the kindness of our fellow human beings who's warmth, help, hospitality and friendship have been constant companions. We return home invigorated by this magical journey and with our faith stronger than ever...
- Posted by Dave using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Worcester, UK
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Trans-Mongolian life
Our 5 days in Ulan Bataar came an end and we prepared our 5 days 4 nights train journey to the largest country in the world, Russia. This signified that our crazy epic is coming to an end. Home bound now. Home on the other side of the planet.
Our trans-Mongolian train ride began with slogging our luggages which were now heavier due to addition of food. Alot of instant noodles, instant mash potatoes, bread, tomatoes, corn flakes etc. We were greeted by grunts and half smiles from the Mongolian train attendants.
Four of us fit comfortably in the 2nd class compartment and we waved goodbye to dark hair and yellow brown skins continent.
The carriage was very busy. People unpacking and repacking. I took a peak- it seemed that they were repacking their shopping. Alot of clothes and bags being taken out of their packing?! So I unpacked too- rearranging our food into rations for different days ( which at the end unnecessary as both children were sick and could not eat much).
Soon as the train started to move, people started moving up and down the hall with things in their arms. Quite a few poked their heads into our compartment when they realised we cannot communicate, they just went away. We remained puzzle.
Finally a lady stopped and asked if we were interested to buy her bags. "So that is what they are doing, trading in the train. Can't imagine why anyone would want to shop on train ..." Boy, were we wrong!
Jon Jon began to get sick on the first night, starting with turning his stomach and lunch into a plastic bag. We silently prayed that it was just a one off and soon it would be over.
Between his vomiting we went through custom and immigration of Mongolia and Russia.
Soon vomiting became diarrhoea. It did not help when we had a hard time working out the bathroom on the train. We thought they had turned off the tap to conserve water. (Actually, we did not realised the tap is designed differently from what we are used to.) When Jon shit in his pant, we were thinking SHIT!
It did not help when he seemed to only need the toilet when the train stopped. (Not allowed in the toilet when in a station.)
The first 2 days on the train were pretty fretful and smelly. However, it did not stop us noticing something quite interesting.
Once we crossed over to Russia, the train would stop for about 20 minutes every 2 to 3 hours during the day until 10pm at night. During these stops, the Mongolians would rush down with their goods to sell to the waiting Russians. A moving 20 minutes fleas Market. This happened all the way to Moscow.
On the 3rd day, colours finally returned on Jon's face. We sighed a relief. No one noticed that the poor boy in cabin 3 was sick all these time.
Alas, good fortune did not stay. Day 4, San complained about something in her throat. Soon the vomiting started. San San ran up and down the corridor with plastic bag down her neck.
She rapidly turned white and her face started to sink into her bone as she brought out all the fluid in her already skinny body.
Finally, the attendants realised cabin 3 was in trouble. It was hard to them to notice our situation since they seemed to be only interested in cooking their own meals and locking up toilets.
A Russian doctor was called against our will. Without choice, San was given an injection to stop her vomiting. (At the time of writing four days after she started, she is still unwell.)
Finally, we arrived in Moscow on the fifth day. We were very glad to get off the train. It was indeed a period of testing on our patience!!!
- Posted by Mich using BlogPress from my iPhone
Our trans-Mongolian train ride began with slogging our luggages which were now heavier due to addition of food. Alot of instant noodles, instant mash potatoes, bread, tomatoes, corn flakes etc. We were greeted by grunts and half smiles from the Mongolian train attendants.
Four of us fit comfortably in the 2nd class compartment and we waved goodbye to dark hair and yellow brown skins continent.
The carriage was very busy. People unpacking and repacking. I took a peak- it seemed that they were repacking their shopping. Alot of clothes and bags being taken out of their packing?! So I unpacked too- rearranging our food into rations for different days ( which at the end unnecessary as both children were sick and could not eat much).
Soon as the train started to move, people started moving up and down the hall with things in their arms. Quite a few poked their heads into our compartment when they realised we cannot communicate, they just went away. We remained puzzle.
Finally a lady stopped and asked if we were interested to buy her bags. "So that is what they are doing, trading in the train. Can't imagine why anyone would want to shop on train ..." Boy, were we wrong!
Jon Jon began to get sick on the first night, starting with turning his stomach and lunch into a plastic bag. We silently prayed that it was just a one off and soon it would be over.
Between his vomiting we went through custom and immigration of Mongolia and Russia.
Soon vomiting became diarrhoea. It did not help when we had a hard time working out the bathroom on the train. We thought they had turned off the tap to conserve water. (Actually, we did not realised the tap is designed differently from what we are used to.) When Jon shit in his pant, we were thinking SHIT!
It did not help when he seemed to only need the toilet when the train stopped. (Not allowed in the toilet when in a station.)
The first 2 days on the train were pretty fretful and smelly. However, it did not stop us noticing something quite interesting.
Once we crossed over to Russia, the train would stop for about 20 minutes every 2 to 3 hours during the day until 10pm at night. During these stops, the Mongolians would rush down with their goods to sell to the waiting Russians. A moving 20 minutes fleas Market. This happened all the way to Moscow.
On the 3rd day, colours finally returned on Jon's face. We sighed a relief. No one noticed that the poor boy in cabin 3 was sick all these time.
Alas, good fortune did not stay. Day 4, San complained about something in her throat. Soon the vomiting started. San San ran up and down the corridor with plastic bag down her neck.
She rapidly turned white and her face started to sink into her bone as she brought out all the fluid in her already skinny body.
Finally, the attendants realised cabin 3 was in trouble. It was hard to them to notice our situation since they seemed to be only interested in cooking their own meals and locking up toilets.
A Russian doctor was called against our will. Without choice, San was given an injection to stop her vomiting. (At the time of writing four days after she started, she is still unwell.)
Finally, we arrived in Moscow on the fifth day. We were very glad to get off the train. It was indeed a period of testing on our patience!!!
- Posted by Mich using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, 29 April 2011
Week 12 - To Moscow
We stagger onto the Ulaan Battar to Moscow train laden down with the weight of five days of provisions. Five days later we stagger off the train in Moscow not much lighter and with two lean children having become alarmingly skinny. Within hours, Jon Jon is vomiting and diarrhea follows shortly after and becomes a permanent companion, shifting to San San on day four. Our cabin fills with plastic bags of foulness as the bouts of illness synchronies with the regular station stops, when the toilets are tightly bolted shut. We end up washing the sheets to avoid a hefty fine and leave the whole situation behind us with a big sigh of relief.
During the periods when the sick children are asleep, the ride is quiet and relaxed as the train drifts through an endless forest of silver birch, dotted with villages of oval roofed wooden cottages. It's mid April but the trees are bare, there is snow in the air and the rivers are still partially frozen hinting at the long and frigid winter still drawing to an end.
The train is packed with Mongolian traders with cabins full of jeans, jackets, coats, scarves, bags, trainers, shoes, blankets, thermos flasks.... even half body mannequins for displaying trousers and tops. Ten minutes prior to each stop this army of commerce begins to mobilize, queuing down the train with arms full of stuff. The doors pop open and they spill onto the platform and launch into a frenzy of trade with the crowds of Russian bargain seekers who seem to be at every station regardless of the hour. The Mongolian train timetable must be committed to memory across the whole of southern Russia. With only 20 minutes in hand no time is wasted, deals are fast and furious for cash or barter. I note that a thick Chinese blanket is worth two bags of dried fish on the Russian/ Mongolian border... Then the train slowly jerks forward and they all jump back on board - some still selling from the open door as the train gathers speed, customers jogging along side passing cash and grabbing their goods.
At last we are in Moscow and safely ensconsted in a bright and airy four bed dorm only thirty minutes walk from Red Square. Having been cooped up for so long, I'm up at dawn and out for a run, exploring this ancient capital. With the sun coming up over the Kremlin, I head north from the square and smile to see two huge advertisements, the most prominent by far, are for our old friends Hyndai and Samsung...
- Posted by Dave using BlogPress from my iPad
During the periods when the sick children are asleep, the ride is quiet and relaxed as the train drifts through an endless forest of silver birch, dotted with villages of oval roofed wooden cottages. It's mid April but the trees are bare, there is snow in the air and the rivers are still partially frozen hinting at the long and frigid winter still drawing to an end.
The train is packed with Mongolian traders with cabins full of jeans, jackets, coats, scarves, bags, trainers, shoes, blankets, thermos flasks.... even half body mannequins for displaying trousers and tops. Ten minutes prior to each stop this army of commerce begins to mobilize, queuing down the train with arms full of stuff. The doors pop open and they spill onto the platform and launch into a frenzy of trade with the crowds of Russian bargain seekers who seem to be at every station regardless of the hour. The Mongolian train timetable must be committed to memory across the whole of southern Russia. With only 20 minutes in hand no time is wasted, deals are fast and furious for cash or barter. I note that a thick Chinese blanket is worth two bags of dried fish on the Russian/ Mongolian border... Then the train slowly jerks forward and they all jump back on board - some still selling from the open door as the train gathers speed, customers jogging along side passing cash and grabbing their goods.
At last we are in Moscow and safely ensconsted in a bright and airy four bed dorm only thirty minutes walk from Red Square. Having been cooped up for so long, I'm up at dawn and out for a run, exploring this ancient capital. With the sun coming up over the Kremlin, I head north from the square and smile to see two huge advertisements, the most prominent by far, are for our old friends Hyndai and Samsung...
- Posted by Dave using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Moscow, Russia
Wednesday, 27 April 2011
Week 11 - Mongolian Ger
Three in the morning and the call of nature has me pushing open the brightly painted wooden door of our Mongolian Ger and wandering out into the vast open plain of the Terelj National Park. The full moon gently filtered by high light cloud casts a magical silver glow over the silent grassland. The air is cold and clear and my gentle clouds of breath seem to issue in a roar against the deafening silence and the crunch of my boots on the sandy ground echoes off the broad slopes of the surrounding hills. I think this is quite possibly as far from civilization I have ventured and still been comfortable and the sense of calm is tangible.
Back in the Ger, I throw another log on the small metal stove and climb back under the sleeping back. The bags are designed for sub zero temperature but this roomy felt walled tent is beautifully warm and I can see from the light of the sputtering candle that Michelle and the kids are fast asleep, comfortably sprawled on the single wooden beds. Blowing out the candle, this warm space plunges into semi darkness and I drift off to sleep, watching the dancing shadows from the glow of the fire.
When I wake up, the sun is illuminating the sky to the east behind the bolder strewn hills, our fire is dead and the morning chill has taken the room. I quickly set the fire, get a fresh brew of shou cha into the flask and quietly get on with my morning puja. By the time the family stirs the Ger is hot once more and the farmers son is cheerfully banging on our door with a big plate of bread and jam. Jon Jon complains of sore legs and we remind him of his two hours on the brown Mongolian gelding with the farmers son the previous evening - most of which at full gallop. The bread is soon devoured and as always too soon we are back on our way to Ulaan Bataar. I reserve comment on Mongolia's capital and feel our stay there was a little too long but I will remember Mongolia fondly for our stay in an ancient and simple rural abode that sits so well in this land of rugged beauty.
- Posted by Dave using BlogPress from my iPad
Back in the Ger, I throw another log on the small metal stove and climb back under the sleeping back. The bags are designed for sub zero temperature but this roomy felt walled tent is beautifully warm and I can see from the light of the sputtering candle that Michelle and the kids are fast asleep, comfortably sprawled on the single wooden beds. Blowing out the candle, this warm space plunges into semi darkness and I drift off to sleep, watching the dancing shadows from the glow of the fire.
When I wake up, the sun is illuminating the sky to the east behind the bolder strewn hills, our fire is dead and the morning chill has taken the room. I quickly set the fire, get a fresh brew of shou cha into the flask and quietly get on with my morning puja. By the time the family stirs the Ger is hot once more and the farmers son is cheerfully banging on our door with a big plate of bread and jam. Jon Jon complains of sore legs and we remind him of his two hours on the brown Mongolian gelding with the farmers son the previous evening - most of which at full gallop. The bread is soon devoured and as always too soon we are back on our way to Ulaan Bataar. I reserve comment on Mongolia's capital and feel our stay there was a little too long but I will remember Mongolia fondly for our stay in an ancient and simple rural abode that sits so well in this land of rugged beauty.
- Posted by Dave using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Ulaan Bataar, Mongolia
Chinese/ Mongolia Border Crossing
An interesting interlude on the train from Beijing to Ulaan Bataar was a 1.5 hour stop in the middle of the night at the Chinese border town of Erlian. With no idea what was going on, we sit confused as some people get off the train and head into the station while others stay on board. We decide that the latter would be a safer bet as at least we are still 'on' the train.
And so we sit puzzled by the crashing clunks that jerk us off our seats as we go slowly back and forth into a huge maintenance shed. Once in the shed we look across at a train that has been dismantled into single carriages on the track next to us. Each carriage is slowly being lifted off it's wheels by four huge orange hydraulic jacks and the bogies are being drawn out on long steel cables. There are people sat in the carriages and on the side it says "Beijing to Ulaan Bataar" - how can we be sat parallel to our own dismantled train? Racing Jon to the end of our carriage, we find it has been uncoupled from it's neighbors and is similarly being lifted off it's wheels. Not being the brightest family on the trans-mongolian rail system, we try to work out what is going on.
Jon suggests that maybe there was a nail on the track and it burst all the tires so they have to fix them all. We double check and discover that trains have metal wheels and no tires... Michelle wonders if the sandstorm we went through earlier in the day has damaged the axels... Finally it starts to dawn on us that maybe the Chinese and Mongolian tracks are different sizes and they need to change the bogies.
Sure enough, once connected to the internet at Ulaan Bataar, we discover the well documented phenomena of the Erlian bogie change where the 1,435 mm standard gauge used by China is changed to the Russian 1,520 mm gauge used by Mongolia. It seems that this is in all the guidebooks and everyone knows about it. Having dumped our guide book in Laos, to us it was a fantastic mystery! We resolve never to bother with a guidebook again - it takes all the fun out of things.
Apparently the gauge is changed back on the Belarus/ Polish border - something to look forward to but unfortunately this time we will know exactly what's going on.
- Posted by Dave using BlogPress from my iPad
And so we sit puzzled by the crashing clunks that jerk us off our seats as we go slowly back and forth into a huge maintenance shed. Once in the shed we look across at a train that has been dismantled into single carriages on the track next to us. Each carriage is slowly being lifted off it's wheels by four huge orange hydraulic jacks and the bogies are being drawn out on long steel cables. There are people sat in the carriages and on the side it says "Beijing to Ulaan Bataar" - how can we be sat parallel to our own dismantled train? Racing Jon to the end of our carriage, we find it has been uncoupled from it's neighbors and is similarly being lifted off it's wheels. Not being the brightest family on the trans-mongolian rail system, we try to work out what is going on.
Jon suggests that maybe there was a nail on the track and it burst all the tires so they have to fix them all. We double check and discover that trains have metal wheels and no tires... Michelle wonders if the sandstorm we went through earlier in the day has damaged the axels... Finally it starts to dawn on us that maybe the Chinese and Mongolian tracks are different sizes and they need to change the bogies.
Sure enough, once connected to the internet at Ulaan Bataar, we discover the well documented phenomena of the Erlian bogie change where the 1,435 mm standard gauge used by China is changed to the Russian 1,520 mm gauge used by Mongolia. It seems that this is in all the guidebooks and everyone knows about it. Having dumped our guide book in Laos, to us it was a fantastic mystery! We resolve never to bother with a guidebook again - it takes all the fun out of things.
Apparently the gauge is changed back on the Belarus/ Polish border - something to look forward to but unfortunately this time we will know exactly what's going on.
- Posted by Dave using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, 18 April 2011
Ulan Bataar's countryside
30 hours on the Trans-Mongolian, we went through customs and immigrations for both China and Mongolia, watched the train checked and changed it's rails, passed through the Gobi desert in the night and arrived at Ulan Bataar. UB Guesthouse has timely and kindly picked us up from the train station.
The city of UB resembles Russian, European small town with a few tall buildings. The signs are in Cyrillic but there are enough English around to be understood. There are still many signs of it's ex-communist status. But the country has been a democratic country since 1992.
UB Guesthouse is what I imagine a proper hostel is. Rooms with bunk-beds, good services for backpackers. Interesting enough, it is run by a Korean, Mr Kim and his Mongolian partner. Lots of backpackers. Tiny kitchen packed with people to get breakfast.
Very quickly, we jumped on the opportunity of a trek to the nearby country side, to stay a night in a farm in a ger.
So an hour car ride in the early Monday morning, we arrived in Terelj.
Surrounded in rocky mountains, the nomadic farm is located in the sandy plain where their cows and horses grazed. They put us in a ger- the Mongolian round tent. It is surprising comfortable and warm. Dave and Jon had a lot of fun sticking woods and papers in the iron cast burner.
Big Tibetan dogs sat around our tent, waiting for us to throw bits of food to them. It is amazing how dogs can eat a lot and eat everything. San was not pleased when the dogs raided our tent and ate the chocolate.
In the evening, we had a go at horse riding. Dave was unsure. I enjoyed it. San was trying to talk to the horse. But Jon had the most fun as he was riding with the farmer's son who showed him all the tricks.
In the middle of the night, i woke to take leak in nature. Was surprised by how bright it was outside the ger. I could not see any stars as it was almost a full moon, it shone like a lamp in dark room, giving light to the plain. Everything else was quiet. It was a serene moment for me until I realised I really have to go. Nature call!
The children had a fabulous time with horse riding, helping the farmer boy with little chores, watching the farmer chainsawed firewood, staying in a tent, and simply just rolling around in nature and making lots of noise.
So much to learn, the world is so big...
- Posted by Mich using BlogPress from my iPhone
The city of UB resembles Russian, European small town with a few tall buildings. The signs are in Cyrillic but there are enough English around to be understood. There are still many signs of it's ex-communist status. But the country has been a democratic country since 1992.
UB Guesthouse is what I imagine a proper hostel is. Rooms with bunk-beds, good services for backpackers. Interesting enough, it is run by a Korean, Mr Kim and his Mongolian partner. Lots of backpackers. Tiny kitchen packed with people to get breakfast.
Very quickly, we jumped on the opportunity of a trek to the nearby country side, to stay a night in a farm in a ger.
So an hour car ride in the early Monday morning, we arrived in Terelj.
Surrounded in rocky mountains, the nomadic farm is located in the sandy plain where their cows and horses grazed. They put us in a ger- the Mongolian round tent. It is surprising comfortable and warm. Dave and Jon had a lot of fun sticking woods and papers in the iron cast burner.
Big Tibetan dogs sat around our tent, waiting for us to throw bits of food to them. It is amazing how dogs can eat a lot and eat everything. San was not pleased when the dogs raided our tent and ate the chocolate.
In the evening, we had a go at horse riding. Dave was unsure. I enjoyed it. San was trying to talk to the horse. But Jon had the most fun as he was riding with the farmer's son who showed him all the tricks.
In the middle of the night, i woke to take leak in nature. Was surprised by how bright it was outside the ger. I could not see any stars as it was almost a full moon, it shone like a lamp in dark room, giving light to the plain. Everything else was quiet. It was a serene moment for me until I realised I really have to go. Nature call!
The children had a fabulous time with horse riding, helping the farmer boy with little chores, watching the farmer chainsawed firewood, staying in a tent, and simply just rolling around in nature and making lots of noise.
So much to learn, the world is so big...
- Posted by Mich using BlogPress from my iPhone
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