I can only compliment him on the manner in which he runs the place, he has a good grasp of the needs of western travellers. Gers on the roof on his two storey building, an excellent way to maximise the available space. His best decision is to have a large Ger as a communal space, it pulls the guests together, ensuring many a good night of socialising. Well I'd spent two and a half weeks in Ulan Baatar sorting out the documentation for Konrad to take my bike out of Mongolia and through Russia; if it hadn't been for Gana's Guesthouse it would have driven me insane. So my personal thanks to one and all, the staff the other guests and even Gana's relatives for a great feast of traditionally cooked Mutton at Naadam. (Photo: Beauty in the Gobi - Southern Gobi Desert, Mongolia)For the third time I crossed the Gobi, in a different direction, though I don't think that matters; however many times you cross the scenery seems different.
Was it my imagination or was this route sandier? Just my imagination I think, viewed from the height of a train carriage the deep sand shows more clearly. One thing is for sure, it once more brought to mind the rigours of riding across it. For hours I sat and stared out the window, marvelling at the sight, Mongolia is awesome, a delight to travel around, however you attempt to do so. Our train was modern, doors and windows tightly sealed, air conditioned carriages ensuring a cool environment to relax in. Sharing a four berth carriage provided a nice chance to be social, even if I had my doubts at first. But my temporary companions proved interesting, the time passed quickly and thirty hours went by with no hitches. I thought I'd turn out to be the undesirable element in the compartment, but not at all, at least not that anyone showed. I spent a bit of time with people from Gana's, and a few beers with an anonymous American living in Mazatlan. I know few of you will remember the significance of that; it was the ferry port of mainland Mexico, the start of the 'Road of a thousand turns'. the windiest, wildest road I had the pleasure to ride on my Americas trip. (Photo: Swapping Bogies - Chinese Border with Mongolia)China and Russia use different gauges for their respective railway networks, Mongolia runs the Russian gauge, so whenever trains cross the borders the whole train must have the bogies changed before continuing.
It seems a mammoth task, surprisingly it only takes a few hours, probably no longer than it would take to process a train load of people through Chinese border control. So we were saved that hassle, they had the forethought to collect all the passports and process them while we waited, not too patiently, on the train. In all fairness it was an interesting thing to watch, they lifted every carriage separately, but in lines of four, then slid the old bogies out and the new one's in. Each carriage in only supported by one bogie at each end, each bogie has four wheels. All electrical connections, plumbing and everything is built into the carriages with no connections to the bogies. When they lifted our carriage we didn't even feel it, it was done with one hydraulic lift in each corner of the carriage. It was funny, all the time it was being done a Chinese guard stood to attention, one at each end of each alley, between each line of carriages. I can only assume this was to ensure there were no absconders. As soon as the Carriage was lowered they came in, made us all sit in our respective places to check we were still there too. (Photo: Chinese mountain scenery - On the way to Beijing)From the border it was time for bed. The only thing to do was prop up the bar all night or sleep, so I chose the latter.
One waking the view was delightful, gone was the expanse of desert dotted with Gers, this was a rich and fertile land framed by the hermetically sealed windows. It didn't exactly allow me to feel the country that surround us, but my experience left no doubt as to the conditions. Soil type hadn't changed a great deal since Mongolia, but the abundance of agriculture was phenomenal. It seemed that nowhere was left uncultivated, it was so ordered, so neat and precise. Further south is changed, became more mountainous, still delightful and beautifully rugged. Mudstone turned to harder rock, the hills grew in stature, I was mesmerised. Train window don't make the best medium for taking photos through, but that wasn't about to stop me trying. Soaring mountains, plunging valleys; the train snaked through a succession of tunnels. It blew my mind, I loved every minute of it. Staggering scenery, how i wished I was on the bike. (Photo: Chinese mountain scenery - On the way to Beijing)And so we trundled ever closer to Beijing, growing slightly more perturbed by the prospect of a dirty, overcrowded city, having to battle through hoards of impolite impatient people. This was the picture painted of China for me, courtesy of most travellers I'd met.
The warnings were all of huge crowds, a culture that has little respect for personal space and are discourteous to foreigners, if not down right rude. True in one respect, on leaving the station the crowds were oppressive. To be honest it was no worse than any other Asian city I've been in, better than many. Being accosted by unlicensed taxi drivers I tried to get a price to the particular hostel I'd booked into (a first for me). A young women stopped to offer her help, only to be pushed aside by one of the drivers. Poor lass, I unceremoniously dispatched him and the rest with a torrent of abuse at their actions. I couldn't apologise enough to her, thanking her profusely I decided on a bus instead, which she directed me to. for 10p I rode the few miles to Tiennamen Square. My hostel was about a ten minute walk away, it took me half an hour to find it. I was melting by the time I got there, but a shower and beer sorted me out. I managed to stop getting disgruntled when I thought they were overcharging me. Apologising I explained how hot and tired I was, a reasonable excuse for being out of sorts. (Photo: Chinese mountain scenery - On the way to Beijing)Leo Courtyard is a lovely looking hostel, busy, but fairly quiet in the actual courtyard part, which is where I'm staying.
Situated in a Hutong, old residential area it makes a nice place to wander around. Sure the main thorough way is lined with shops, it is quite touristy, but hell it's Beijing. Tiennaman and the Forbidden City are just up the road, what's more, I like it. For a city it rocks, the people are a pleasure to be amongst after Ulaan Baatar. There is no hostility, no theft that I've heard of and isn't even as busy as I expected. Ok, they stare at me loads, but people do when I walk around in short sleeves, all part of having tattoos. In reality it's the dreads they stare at most, but it's not the same as Mongolians, it's partly in amazement. Some do not respond in any way, but a smile and nod get a favourable response from the majority. The rest generally look away when I stare back, I can't quite see why so many criticised the locals here. I've found most eager to smile and say hello, even when they obviously find ma a funny sight. (Photo: City slicker - Beijing)To make me really feel at home it poured with rain on my first day here, for half the day.
There's no point cowering from adverse weather as I always claim, so an umbrella was bought, and carried ever since. There is something nice about walking through pouring rain oblivious to the deluge, I always find it soothing as long as I'm mainly dry and warm. Here it also provides a chance to battle against the host of brollies that endeavour to poke your eyes out, especially as I'm that bit taller than the average resident of Beijing. Not that they mean to, they are not very aware of other peoples space. This situation improves when it's apparent that you aren't either. I find that walking down the road if I remain oblivious to all others, if I don't weave constantly to avoid everyone else, they move out my way. I didn't try this on the squad of Red Guards who marched straight through the crowded subway, everyone moved out their way. They yelled something out now and again, warning people of their imminent passage I assume. My impression of China is favourable from my first experiences in Beijing, and all the tales I've heard are horror stories. (Photo: Loe Courtyard Hostel - Beijing)And now I sit holding back the tears as I watch a music video of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, they're playing Californication, Cai's favourite song by them.
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