Bolshie Koty to Mongolia

Hello everyone!

A lot has happened since my last message, so a bit of a long update (probably):

Even though there were 'no tickets today, no tickets tomorrow' we managed to catch a jam-packed boat to Bolshie Koty, our remote destination, from Listvyanka. Listvyanka is a small, rather touristic village not unlike Scheveningen, but instead of the sea you look onto the stunning Baikal Lake. However, before taking the bus to Listvyanka, we had to get Anne a small backpack that she could use for short trips. We ended up in an odd store in Irkutsk, part army store, part fishing equipment, part camping gear. Next to the backpacks and compasses were guns. A pistol goes for about 40 euro and an uzi for about 400, if you're interested. I didn't ask if you need a license. Needless to say, Anne's backpack has an army print.

Arriving in Bolshie Koty, a tiny village with about 40 permanent residents, we again looked out onto the mighty lake from our hostel room. Sometimes you could see the mountains at the other end of the lake, but usually we stared into a vast endless ocean, but completely still. Our hostel, Lesnaya 7, was extremely charming; the four of us shared a small wooden cabin with our own little kitchen, and two double rooms. The beds had tiny matresses on hard wooden frames, but that didn't matter; we had found a secluded spot in the middle of nowhere and we were going to enjoy it. It was the first time we could drink the tap water; it came straight from the pure lake, which carries more than 20% of the world's fresh water. There are no real shops in Bolshie Koty, but there are a few houses that sell basic supplies (mainly beer and chips). We managed to gather spaghetti, red sauce, and fish in a can, to make a very boring and tasteless dinner. The hostel owner, Alexei, had studied Chinese, so we had something in common. We arranged for his mother in law to cook for us the next day, so we wouldn't have another average meal. She cooked us a delicious warm lunch with chicken and local vegetables, and tried to speak English with us even though she hadn't for 30 years.

I haven't yet mentioned my favorite part of the hostel, and it will probably be surprising. It had a wonderful toilet. Toilet is a big word, really, seeing as it was a hole in the ground. Alexei had built a small outhouse, and brilliantly enough he had put a one way mirror on the door, so you could enjoy the peace and quiet on the royal seat while looking out onto the garden. If there was an option to have a toilet like that on University College, I would take it.

The next day, Erwin and I went for a walk around the village. We walked for around four hours throughout the day, on small and often steep paths overlooking the lake. It was all very beautiful and the quiet was intense. When we returned, Erwin managed to create a campfire on the beach using just wood that was lying around the beach and the village itself. We sat until the warm sunlight turned into a chilly night and the moon rose over the surface of the lake. All we could hear was the crackling of the fire, all we could see the light generated by our fire and the almost full moon. It was a perfect evening. When the air had cooled down too much for us to stay outside, the men peed out the fire and we shivered our way back to our warm cabin.

The next day, we walked the 20 km path back to Listvyanka, first past the lake, always keeping it to our left, then through the thick woods. We walked parts of the path together with two Dutch people and their guides, who Erwin and I had briefly met on our walk the day before. They told us about edible fruits in the forest and about China, where they had spent two months. In the forest, we had to climb a hill, probably rising about 200 or 300 metres, before we reached the steep descent to Listvyanka. It took us about 6 hours to walk the distance, and with tired feet and hungry stomachs we sat down in Listvyanka for some shashlicks and smoked fish. We sat right underneath a loudspeaker playing awful music. The peace and quiet we had enjoyed for two days was immediately and brutally shattered. I could have spent much more time in Bolshie Koty, even though there is nothing there. Alexei put it best when we just got off the boat. I told him: 'This is a nice place.' He said, 'No. Best place.'

Back in Irkutsk, we spent a quiet day doing nothing much, waiting for our train to arrive. When the time came to take the train, we found out it was quite a bit more luxurious than the previous train. The beds were comfortable, and we had a TV showing a Russian movie every now and then. The trip itself was uneventful (a 30 hour train trip is really nothing special if you just spent 88 hours on a train), except for the border crossing. At 1pm we stopped at the Russian border. We were told to return at 4pm, and were left to spent 3 hours in a dreary and rainy border town, with no sights to see and no shops to spend our remaining rubles in. Luckily we were allowed back on the train around 2.30 and we played some more cards. We still don't know why we waited 3 hours on the station, but a little after 4pm the first official passed by to check our visa and migration cards. Then someone collected our customs forms. Then, someone came to take our passports. Then, someone came to check under our seats and in the luggage rack, to check for smuggled persons. Then, we were ordered out of the compartment and someone checked again. We got our passports back. 6 different officials had passed by, and nothing had really happened. Our forms were stamped, our luggage was never checked. Why this had to take six hours, I don't know.

At the Mongolian border, we waited another 3 hours, and another 5 or so officials passed by, and then we were finally going again. It was nighttime however, and we went to sleep listening to the rain tapping on the compartment window. The next day, we woke up to the beautiful Mongolian hillsides. We saw cattle grazing along the railroad tracks, something we had missed entirely in Russia. Here and there, a ger, a nomadic tent, stood alone in a field. Then we turned a corner, and Ulan Baator stretched out in front of us. Big smokestacks ruined the otherwise beautiful sight of the large valley Ulan Baator is positioned in. Soviet apartment blocks stood in quiet disrepair. We passed not one building of any significance, nothing stood out. There was only the Hyundai repair centre, and the Ulan Baator management corporation (what do they do exactly?). Arriving at the station, this view was confirmed. In other cities, the ugliest buildings often face the railway. In Ulan Baator, it makes no difference. I was clearly crazy when I though Moscow was ugly; this was the holy grail of tastelessness. The rainy wheather only complemented the concrete block that is Ulan Baator.

We were driven to the hostel, and we immediately noticed two things: the happiness and friendlyness of the people stood in sharp contrast to what we had encountered in many Russians. More importantly though, the hostel was absolutely crammed with warning signs. There is one saying you can't go outside after midnight because 'outside is not so safe'. One says you shouldn't let anyone in for your own safety. No watching TV after 23:00pm. Internet hours between 9am and 8pm. Don't use the washer yourself, ask the staff!!! Don't throw toilet paper in the toilet, it blocks very easily!!! When using the book exchange, put two books back for every book you take. Our collection is building. Ask the staff first!!! We had been to hostels before where signs such as 'I'm not your mother, do your own dishes' were common, but this was overkill.

When we arrived, we were given one additional warning by hostel manager Kim: 'On Peace avenue, there is no peace. Many pickpockets.' We were sceptical, but he quickly turned out to be right. In a matter of hours, the front pocket of my Eastpak was opened twice; there was nothing of importance there, but the second time a copy of my passport was stolen along with my travel itinerary. No harm done, but a bizarre experience to walk around in a city where stealing is such a common experience. When we arrived back at the hostel, an English backpacker reported that his wallet had been stolen.

Early in the morning, we headed off to see Ulan Baator's one big (arguably only) sight: the Gadatechchenling Monastery. It is the central Buddhist temple in Ulan Baator, and it houses over 900 monks. We walked around and eventually hit the jackpot; we walked in on a small Buddhist morning ritual. A kind lady beckoned us into a small temple, and we sat as about a dozen monks sat and chanted their morning prayers. In between chanting, they chatted idly, drank tea, and checked their mobile phones. When I walked out I didn't know how long I had been inside; it was extremely peaceful and relaxing to listen to these monks chant, going about their daily business. I can see why they would voluntarily shut themselves off from the outside world in such a magical place.

After our little outing, we booked a trip for the coming four days. We're going into a national park, seeing a waterfall, a lake, and a small patch of desert. We're sleeping in gers every night. We take our own driver and car, and a translator. This will cost us the grand sum of 150 dollars each. I'm very much looking forward to it. Today we went to buy some supplies for the trip. I bought a baseball cap that says 'Funny – Smileling' (spelling mistake intended) and some fake RayBans. It cost me just over 10 euros.

We also went to see some traditional Mongolian theatre, consisting of dance, music, song, and acrobatics. It was mainly attended by tourists and I was afraid it would be very tacky and not at all authentic. It was, in fact, marvellous. Several beautiful instruments were played – something similar to a harp, with a very rich sound. A 'horsehead fiddle'. Of course there were the famous throat singers, although they were not by any means the highlight of the evening. A group performed traditional Mongolian dances, in beautiful costumes. But most importantly, there was an amazing orchestra filled with these traditional instruments, and with a great, rich sound. I really can't describe in words how wonderful it was. I can only recommend you come to Mongolia and go see it; it is one of a kind.

Tomorrow we leave for 4 days and will be cut off from the rest of the world. I imagine that my next update will be coming from Beijing in about a week. Until then, we're going to enjoy sleeping in the wild and eating lots of mutton; the traditional mongolian meal. There is also apparently salty milk and tea. Yum!