Back in China
Well, after a month in Mongolia, it was time (thanks to an expired visa) to pick up our backpacks and move on. Chris was delighted to get a new backpack in UB, and after 20 years hard service, bequeathed his old one as seen in myriad travel photos to Ganbaatar's kids.
After Nadaam, most foreigners were in a panic because the twice weekly international trains were booked. Boneheads. They just had to do what the rest of the country was doing and go to the Mongolian town of Zamyn Uud and then cross the border into China, 4km away. Which we duly did, accompanied in our VERY dusty Gobi-crossing carriage with 2 youngsters who were so overexcited to be on their first ever train trip
Borders are always interesting places, and border towns are invariably a neat amalgamation of two cultures. Not here though. I truly think the Mongolians have a pathological mental block about China. Right at the border and not a Chinese word spoken or sign anywhere. Interesting.
Anyhow, after the train arrived we found a lone Mandarin speaking Australian photographer and piled into one of the many extremely beaten up jeeps over to the border. There is where I found out why the vans and jeeps are so beatenup looking. It was a bloody demolition derby! Dozens of maniacs trying to get over a 2 lane crossing, crashing into each other and drivers literally fist fighting. It was the most entertaining ride ever.
Safely into Erlian, in China, naturally there was no train that day to Beijing, so we took the next bus out to Hohhot - the exact opposite direction. What the hell, the kabobs were good and Richard was a great companion in our adventure!
