Booked a tour of the city and was taken
to the four major places - Gandan Khiid temple where Michael started a mini riot
by walking anticlockwise around the statue of Buddha. As part of their history
they lost over 10,000 monks and 100 temples in the purges of the 1930’s under
Stalin’s orders. Paul note that pigeons are seen as holy animals here as you
can see from the photo. Then onto the Mongolian History museum and shrine to
the Khaan’s family, plus all the different national dress.
Up to the Zaisan Memorial, which was
constructed by the Soviets to remember those lost in war. Pretty impressive
mosaic, but the locals don’t like it as it reminds them of the bad days before
their independence which they are ferociously proud of when you talk about the
past.
Finally onto Sukbaarar Square named
after the 1921 revolutionary hero who ushered in communism for the Mongolian
people. The square is large and has the parliament and prominent buildings
around it.
The parliament buildings have Chinggis Khaan sitting in the middle
and his son and grandson mounted on horses in front of him. Later we got to go
inside the parliament building as there was a National Geographic photographic
exhibition being held.
Many people were dressed up in national costume which is
apparently standard for country folk and were very impressive in there design
and colours, they even had flash looking guards.
Had our first bit of snow, more
flurries than snow so it was a pleasant minus 3 degrees to walk around.
The fun continues in Ulaanbaator in
walking around seeing the sights. Chinggis Khan (Genghis to us) is the nation’s
hero and they name everything after him including beer and vodka.
Michael decided to get a beer tasting
paddle at one restaurant and discovered on arrival it was a Mongolian Vodka
tasting plate. Just so happens that the vodka names are the same as the beer.
Had an attempted pick pocket on Michael
which I was pleased to foil, but have given them full points for being brazen
enough to try, especially as they are not that tall. Needless to say Michael
now has his rain jacket over the pack as we walk around.
Last day was a lazy day and decided to
get some geocaching in and found 4 and DNF 2.
So we covered a bit of ground
around the city with is nice and flat and on a Sunday most of the loons are off
the road. Cars are not required to stop
for pedestrians at either traffic lights or zebra crossings, they are just
required to take more care. That seems
to entail driving full bore at pedestrians even if there is a traffic policeman
on duty.
Decided to have dinner near the hostel
in a flash place called Topaz Hotel. It was a grade above the other local
places we have visited, or so we thought. A drunk greeted Michael as his long
lost friend. Michael then conversed with his little book of dishes with the
waitress and the Mongolian menu. English is not big here and most of the local
restaurants do their menus in Mongolian with no pictures. We have discovered
that the Cyrillic used in Mongolian has different meanings to Russian and
Google translate does not do Mongolian. After much gesturing and eyeing off
other diners’ meals we got a lovely fried Chicken and Turvas (beef noodles).
During the meal the entertainment
arrived in the form of a drunk and his partner trying to sell a big tin of
tomatoes to the waitress. The waitress was having none of this, so she called
security and then proceeded to kick the man until he left (and I mean really
kick him hard repeatedly in the shins). We thought we had better not get on her bad
side or the same could happen to us.
Time to board the train to Irkutsk, the
Provodnitsa lived up to our expectation of true Russian beauty of Soviet
proportions that could knock a sailor out with her hardened stare. Even Michael
was a little bit more respectful upon entering her domain. We shared a nice 2nd class carriage
with a lady from Ulan-Ude and after we worked out she had 1 child of 5 years
and not 5 children as she only seemed 18 herself, we went through broken
English learning about Ulan-Ude and the Russian ways. She had spent the weekend
in Ulaanbaatar buying up winter season clothes for her family as prices are a
third cheaper in Mongolia compared to Russia. There were 8 carriages on the
train when we started.
I did not sleep well on the train as
they turn the heat right up to passing out point and the cabins get a extremely
claustrophobic. The train also stopped outside the Mongolian border station at 5:30
am and had to wait until 8:30 am for customs to open. When we got up we found
that our carriage had been decoupled from all carriages and the engine and was
just sitting there outside the customs hall all on its own.
Then fun really started as traders
started to board before the Mongolian- Russian border. One woman was assigned
to our berth who had a massive collection of camel wool socks and then started
to proceed to distribute them through the carriage, hiding them in bags and
then out came the shoes the slippers scattered around the berth.
Once we had cleared Mongolian customs
by staying in our carriage and waiting 2 hours while they pretended not to see
all the traders’ stuff, we moved onto Nashuki station with our one carriage to
start the process again. Our lady friend warned us that our bags would get
checked as customs do a thorough search. On came the immigration and customs
people in their ridiculously oversized hats. Our trader lady was wrapping socks
around her legs, belly and into pockets of coats. Once again our passports were
taken away and all the nationals were quizzed. We only had to say Australian
and they shook their heads and moved on. The customs guy said do you speak
Russian we said no and then asked if we had anything to declare, we said no and
they left us alone. The trader got a grilling and showed one bag containing
nothing and kept saying nyet to everything. The Ulan-Ude lady said where she
had been and next thing bags were being opened and she had to complete a long double-sided
form of what she had purchased in Mongolia. The guy seemed happy with the form
and spoke a bit more. We sat there wondering why no one seemed to notice that
our cabin held a thousand pairs of brown camel socks and that all the traders were
wearing brand new camel jackets (some with price tags on) and had identical
shoes that were brand new in each berth. Welcome to Russia.
A bit later the passports were returned
and the customs guy came back and had a social chat to the trader. During all
this time Michael was quizzing the two ladies on food and how it is written in Cyrillic
for his next restaurant adventure. The Ulan-Ude woman must have thought we were
here to eat them out of house and home.
Had 2 hours to kill in Nashuki after
the 3 hours spent on the train with customs and immigration officers. It was
funny watching all the traders get off with more bags than they could carry
back in their normal clothes walking past all the officials as if there was
nothing wrong. The town did not have much to offer and we practiced our Russian
ordering Goulash and dumplings. Not bad for our first Russian meal.
Our Ulan-Ude lady must have either
found Michael questions or snoring too much as she left us to continue her
journey by bus to Ulan-Ude.
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