Boxcar-ish adventures: Mongolia to Irkutsk

Our first train ride of the journey began in a comfortable kupe: the four person sleeping room. Matt and I shared the room with a man named Yun Den, a Russian from the Buryat region of Siberia, and a woman also traveling to Irkutsk (the place Matt and I were going). Both were very quiet, watching us, as Matt and I got settled. It took a little vodka drinking on Yun Den’s part before he started speaking to us in nearly perfect English. Yun Den was pure entertainment.

(Yun Den and Matt)

We were stopped at the Russian border. For 6 hours. 6 loooong hours. Matt and I were not prepared. We mistakingly thought we would be in Irkutsk when we woke up the next morning. Turns out it would be the following day. Of course! We had two borders to cross...I guess we hadn’t thought that through too well. Yun Den wakes up to a breakfast of vodka while Matt and I sat munching on the few rolls left to our name (we only brought food for one night). The intimidating Russian border control officers raided our cabin, starred us down, we starred back (under Yun Den’s instructions) and off they went with our passports.

We got our passports back a few hours later and after explaining our lack of food situation, Yun Den agreed to accompany us to a small supermarket. He advised us on some good cheese, sausage and beer. As we leave the shop Yun Den suddenly stopped, looked from side to side and asked, “Do we need some more vodka?” (He already had vodka on the train mind you) Matt responded with, “Oh, well, we have some beer now so I think we’re ok.” “Beer is beer but vodka is VODKA!” he shouted. “I think we need some more vodka.” And off he goes back into the supermarket. We followed laughing...Oh, Yun Den.

We passed the time on the train by reading, watching a few downloaded TV show off my Ipod which Yun Den found very interesting (“I’ve seen these before but I thought they were toys!”), listened to podcasts, and when that wasn’t entertaining enough, Matt pulled out the 5 dice we bought in Beijing (best purchase of the trip--by far!) for some Yahtzee! Yun Den learned quickly, a little too quickly if you ask me. Good thing we weren’t playing for money or prizes--he would have cleaned us out!

Yun Den was full of advice about traveling in Russia and as with most Russians with a little alcohol in his system, openly talked about his grievances against the Russian government and the economic situation of the present. We couldn’t have asked for a better first cabin mate, seriously. We were disappointed when he left us but our quiet cabin that night spurred us to go talk to an cool Aussie couple further down the car from us. They had a guitar! Their love for folk music was evident, therefore producing a lovely evening of chatting, playing, singing, or listening to singing, in my case and beer drinking.

An arrival in Irkutsk in the brisk early morning didn’t leave many options but to hangout in a cafe, sipping coffee with the Aussies while we waited to meet up with our Couchsurfing host, Artur. Aww, *loving sigh* Artur! Our Siberian angel. He graciously met us in the city center even though we were a whole day later than we expected, then welcomed us to his beautiful home.

(Artur and Matt)

Artur’s house offered us our first shower in 7 days--it was simply glorious! Then he took us to Irkutsk’s beautifully iced over dam, showed us around the city, and introduced us to some of his friends. As it turns out and was proven, Artur is Irkutsk's most well-known citizen! Every few meters we would run into one of his friends along the sidewalk (Artur swears this wasn’t normal...but I don’t believe him)!

(Irkutsk dam)

Later that night we took Artur up on an invitation to have a traditional Russian meal at his grandparent’s house. Artur has been a Couchsurfing host for while, has hosted dozens of people, but Matt and I were his first Americans. And he has never taken anyone surfers to meet his grandparents before. This was an extra special night for all of us; Americans and Russians unite.

His sweet, sweet grandparents and aunt greeted us with a table full of delicious foods; dumplings, pancakes, creams, homemade jams, etc. Bellies filled, we talked through Artur’s translations. His grandfather even brought out his medals from back in the Soviet days to show us! What an honor to be there in his grandparents’ home that night. I will never forget it. To top off the night when we got back to Artur’s place, we got to meet Artur’s mother before we crawled into bed. Another sweet, hospitable, and gracious women to add to the list.

(Russian dumplings-Pelmeni- and pancakes-Blini)

The next day Artur spent a ridiculous number of hours helping Matt and I to register our visas. I could write a whole blog on the visa nonsense but I will leave it at this: The Russian government still does not like foreign visitors. They better change their policies before they host the 2018 World Cup they so desperately wanted or sh*t is gonna hit the fan. And I will happily join in the sh*t throwing.

I digress.

After we took care of our visas, we decided to take a short trip out to Lake Baikal, the world’s largest and deepest fresh water lake.

Next stop: Lake Baikal

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes...

Boxcar-ish adventures: Mongolia

Matt and I had no idea what to expect in Mongolia except we knew we would be Couchsurfing in a ger (traditional Mongolian home). We also knew the temperatures were going to be horrendously cold. But we could sense that Mongolia would be the best part of our trip and boy, was that true.

Upon arrival in the dark, smokey Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia's capital city, the nice man on our flight helped us contact our Couchsurfing host and arranged a taxi to take us to our host's ger. We knew our original contact, Khishig, would not be home that night (true story: he was off in the countryside hunting to bring back meat for the winter), but we were greeted by his adorable wife, Oogi, their 9-month-old baby, Oogi's two beautiful sisters, and two large dogs that I'm positive wanted to eat me.

They welcomed us into their ger, offered us tea and gave over their bed for us. The wood-burning stove in the middle of the ger kept us sweating while we chatted and got to know each other. By this time it was very late and definitely time for bed. Oogi warned us as we went to bed with just a few blankets over us that we might feel cold in the night as the fire died out. Ooooooooh my! It got cold. I seriously think my teeth were chattering.

In the morning, Oogi loaded the stove with wood again and cooked us a tasty potato, horse, rice meal. We unthawed as we ate, deciding to put on more layers for the day exploring the city. Oogi's friend, Undra, came over and agreed to be our tour guide/errand runner for the day. She helped us exchange money, buy our train tickets to Russia, check our email; all the busy work humbo jumbo. Then she took us to the hot spots of Ulaanbaatar; the Winter Palace, the Genghis (Chinggis) Khaan statue, the Natural History Museum and....Cashmere World! Ok, so the stop in Chasmere World was just a desperate attempt by Matt and I to be inside and warm. Although, cashmere is one of Mongolia's top exports.....so, yeah.

Back at the ger, Oogi was busy organizing a trip to the countryside for Matt and I. When we got back with Undra she presented us with all the information. We would be able to go horseback riding and experience nomadic life. We were worried about freezing to death but decided we could not pass up this opportunity to be a nomad. Nakuu, our guide whose family we would stay with, arrived at Oogi's to travel with us. Nakuu didn't speak much English, but he had spent three months working in Korea and could speak a bit of Korean. Assa! This made for hilarious communication using a mixture of Korean and English and lots of laughing. Undra also joined our troupe as our translator and off we went to the bus station.

Three hours later after a whistle from the bus driver, the four of us get off the bus into pitch black wilderness. We stepped off the side of the road into deep snow to start our 1 km hike to Nakuu's family. Then out of nowhere headlights appeared in the field and screeched to a stop next to us. "My brother," Nakuu said. We hopped in, drove at 100 mph across the open field and stopped in front of two gers.

"Welcome to my home."

The pictures describe the experience better than countless paragraphs could. It was hands-down the coolest experience of my life. Out in the vast, open, untouched countryside, riding on a horse, taking in the breathtaking view with people who have opened up their home to you...you can't help but let out a big "wahooooo!"

We watched two horses be lassoed and killed. Then we helped make horse dumplings for dinner that night. Cruel? Absolutely not. These people work hard for their food, appreciate exactly where it comes from, and waste nothing. Something us Americans have completely lost sight of. We ate a lot of bread covered in butter, topped with sugar and drank a LOT of milk salt tea. We went sledding down the hill behind our ger on an old satellite dish and learned Mongolian wrestling. We milked goats and cows. We drank fresh yogurt and chewed lots of kurt (look it up). Hey Dorothy, we weren't in Korea anymore.

Oogi, Khishig (now back from the countryside), and two friends came to pick us up and bring us back to the city. It was sad to say goodbye to our new nomadic family, but I hope I can return there someday, preferably in the summer months. The ride back was in itself, interesting (never a dull moment in Mongolia). The back of the van was full of Khishig's sheep hides waiting to be sold. Every half hour or so we would stop along the road and Khishig would get out to try and sell the hides. He sold most of them. Also, our lane was snowy and icy so our driver kept driving (at high speeds) in the opposite lane, moving back and forth across the ice as cars approached....I stopped watching after a while so I wouldn't have a panic attack. Oh, and we had a shady run in with the police. Fun times.

The last day in Mongolia was spent visiting a temple, shopping for much needed goods like fleece-lined leggings, and karaoke in the city. Thank you Korea for bringing karaoke to Mongolia! Although that darn karaoke almost made us late for our train. We hopped on minutes before it departed, in typical Kelly traveling style. The first leg of our epic train journey had started!

Pictured: (back: Undra, Oogi, Khishig, Matt. front: Me, Oogi and Khishig's baby)

Next stop: Siberia (Irkutsk)

Boxcar-ish adventures

As a child, I was an avid reader of the Boxcar Children series. Remember Henry, Jessie, Violet and Benny? I wanted to be them sooooo bad. But who didn't? I wanted to enter their world. I secretly hoped that there was some secret Narnia-like closet that could take me back in time to them. Back to a time when a whole day of work was worth one dollar. And that one dollar could buy bread and milk and cheese for four. I wanted desperately to live in an abandoned boxcar next to a brook. And to eat off cracked dumpster dishes. And to be parent-free (but with a mysteriously rich grandfather). I wanted their adventure.

There were no abandoned boxcars near my home as a child but back behind the corn field there was a perfect spot for a fort right next to the railroad tracks. Behind our apartment and over the barbed wire fence was the county lot. The county lot was much like the city dump/storage area. It was full of danger and adventure as people (especially children) weren't allowed to be snooping around in it. But we did. All the time. During those long summer days when both my parents were working, out in the fort with my brother and other friends, I really did feel like a boxcar kid.

I got a boxset of the Boxcar Children books for Christmas this year (Thanks Caleb!) so I'm currently re-living their adventures. I LOVE them, enough said.

As many of you know, my latest, nonfictional, adventure was taking the Trans-Mongolian Railway. Starting in Busan, South Korea and ending in Moscow, Russia (then home to Iowa). It's time I share stories and pictures from the epic journey.

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Just barely missing the shots from North Korea on November 23rd, Matt and I flew out from Seoul to Beijing. A shockingly cold few days of sightseeing followed, causing us to question our plans to keep heading north to Mongolia and Siberia. Who's idea was that anyway? Oh me....that's right. Since this was my 3rd time to the city I acted as Matt's personal tour guide. We hit up all the classic tourist spots, Tiananmen Square, Forbidden City, Temple of Heaven, Summer Palace, Olympic Park, Pearl Market and the Great Wall. We were lucky to be there during a "blue sky" day as the locals called it. Otherwise known as a day when the city is not covered in layers of dirty smog. Awww.....so sad.

Thanksgiving dinner was without turkey but replaced by an equally delicious bird; Peking duck. That day we had hiked 6 km along the Great Wall, eating nothing but junk like ramen, Snicker bars, chips. We cleaned ourselves up for our big dinner and splurged on a taxi to take us the the restuarant only to sit and wait for an hour (we didn't think to make reservations). Hunger really is the best seasoning. Finally we were seated, the duck was brought out and was eaten as fast as it was being cut in front of us. YUM.

Just when we thought our Beijing adventure was over it was extended by an extra 8 hours due to a weather delay. Yipee. We were put up in a business hotel near the airport. They served us lunch and dinner at the hotel. This gave us a chance to get to know others on our flight and one man who turned out to be our first Mongolian angel.

Next: Mongolia and nomadic adventures.