Saturday, September 30, 2006

The Worlds Highest Railway

Having caught the train bug, we decided to ditch our original plans to see more of China; opting instead to try out the recently opened route from Beijing to Lhasa. The new Qinghai-Tibet Railway is the highest in the world, climbing from 2829m above sea level at Golmud to 3641m at Lhasa, with much of the track built on permafrost. The highest point is the Tanggula Pass at 5072m. Because of the lack of oxygen at such altitude, the coaches have extra oxygen pumped into them. We slept in a 6-berth cabin consisting of triple-decker bunks. Top bunks not recommended for vertigo sufferers.


The train played host to two prestigious events. Firstly the inaugural Chino-Scots Arm Wrestling Championships, which - after a few hard fought bouts - resulted in a narrow victory for the Chinese. Second up was the illustrious Chino-Scots hairiness Competition which was only ever going to have one outcome - a comprehensive victory for the Scots. In fact, my hairiness provided much amusement for the baldy-chested Chinese travelling with us. I can only imagine how they would have reacted to meeting Airdrie (for those not in the know, Airdrie (a.k.a. Roy) is an acquaintance who is perhaps the hairiest man in the world - in fact, more monkey than man - you reading this blog Roy?)


Anyways, I digress; back to our thoughts on the train ride - whilst not quite up to the standard of scenery on the Edinburgh-Glasgow line it was impressive nonetheless...


Cribbage Update: Jools 10 Kev 6

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The For-spitten' City

To save a few togrogs (Mongolian pennies) we abandoned the traditional Trans-Mongolian route and took a local train to the Chinese border town of Erlian. From here it was a minivan to the bus station for a 14 hour Kung-Fu-sleeper-bus journey to Beijing. This was a rather uncomfortable experience for those of an average height (say 6 foot 1 and a half ish) as the accommodation consisted of compact Chinese-stylee bunk-coffins.

After the solitude of the Gobi Desert, Beijing proved to be a noisy bombardment of the senses; shopkeepers, rickshaw pilots, random guys on the street all clamouring for attention:

"Hullo, come look"
"Hullo, where you go?"
"Hullo, you buy CDDVD?"

There were 2 things it was impossible to escape from whilst in the city. Firstly the staring - not just a furtive wee glance - proper full-blown, neck-craning, google-eyed staring. Secondly the spitting - not just a furtive wee spit - proper full-blown, throat-hacking groggers which were then propelled indiscriminately across the streets.

Nonetheless, we sidestepped the spittle and put up with the staring (posing for a few photos and signing a few autographs on the way) to do all the usual touristy things that one does whilst in Beijing:

The Great Wall was duly conquered.



Every nook and cranny of Tiannamenn Square and the Forbidden City were explored.


We hired a couple of single gear boneshakers to check out the city's alleyways and parks and to join the other 8,999,998 bicycles in Beijing.


We took part in a "most number of people in a bus" world record attempt, which was a particularly unpleasant experience as most of our co-record-attemptees seemed unfamiliar with the use of deodorant (sorry no pic as I couldn't move my arms)

Assorted street food was sampled; kebabs, veg pancakes, roasted corn, Chinese hamburgers etc. - carefully avoiding the "tasty" looking dog-penis on a stick treats.



Oh, and we went for a Chinese every night!

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Inter Outer Mongolia

Before beginning our adventures in Mongolia we negotiated another train journey(a mere 2 days) from Irkutsk to Ulaanbaator (the capital of Mongolia) ; a journey notable only for the tedium of a 10 hour border crossing in the stifling, wasp-infested heat.

As usual, we were met at the train station by some dude in leathers and bundled into the back of a sports car with darkened windows, pumping out the latest Mongolian dance hits. Our destination was UB Guesthouse - a friendly, chaotic place, bursting at the seams with travellers from all over the world. Here we were teamed up with 2 Dutch guys, an antique Russian van and a Mongolian driver, for a 9 day trip into the wilds of the Gobi desert.

Otto(30) - rally driver and mechanic; known to consume the occasional fermented mare's milk or twelve.
Geert(24) - witty, relaxed, laid-back, chilled-out snuff-meister.
Yosh(21) - motorbike stuntman with a serious egg fetish.



As our motely crew set off to the strains of Kung Fu fighting on the tranny, Otto high-kicked and karate-chopped his way through the rush hour traffic with gay disregard for standard road etiquette. An hour later - having cleared the polluted air of UB - the van was nose up in a ditch with smoke pouring out of the engine, as wild horses looking on inquisitively. Such breakdowns were to become a recurring theme of the trip, as we were afflicted with suspension problems, brake failure, flat tyres and numerous petrol/oil shortages. Luckily Otto was a skilled mechanic, able to fix most van related problems with a piece of metal piping and brute force.

An average day "on tour" consisted of around 5 hours driving over dusty, hard, potholed non-roads, with occasional stops to visit a ruined temple/monastery/archaelogical site, admire the scenery or take photos of the indigineous wildlife; horses, goats, sheep, camels, gazelles, yaks, wolves, assorted rodents, lizards, snakes, spiders, birds of prey, vultures, rhinos etc. Every night we would either pitch the tents or stay in a ger and eat mutton delights dished up by the local family.


It's impossible to describe all the "experiences" we experienced during the Gobi-experience. Here's our top 3:

Plopping in at number 3 - 'Burning Shit'
A few nights were spent in the company of another van-load of nutters. Whenever possible, as night fell, a couple of intrepid volunteers would head out into the desert to find and collect a shit-load of dried camel shit, which would subsequently be used to construct a traditional Mongolian campfire. We would sit round the fire till the wee small hours drinking pints of camel urine and shots of lizard mucous (ok, it was really beer and vodka)

Climbing to number 2 - 'Sunrise over the dunes'
Having spent the night quite literally camped amongst the sand dunes, we rose early to climb the highest, pointiest sand dune we could find. From here - as camels strolled by far below - we watched the sun rise slowly over the sand. Magical.

Straight in (and out again) at number 1 - 'Mongolian Hospitality'
Haven driven offroad for an entire morning, Otto eventually found the nomadic family he was looking for. Through one of our frequent miscommunications we proceeded to eat a hearty lunch in the van, only to be invited into the ger for lunch shortly after. Here we were treated to a nauseating feast of sour goat/horse/sheep yoghurt with sugar, large chunks of salty goat/horse/sheep cheese, lamb ribs, fresh mares milk, snuff and vodka. To finish us off, we were each cajoled into downing a large bowl of distilled, fermented mare's milk (apparently designed to settle the stomach!). All of this provided much hilarity for the family and much unwanted activity in our stomachs. The rest of the day was a bit of a haze, but I have vague memories of stumbling through the desert trying to take photos of lizards sitting on camel shit.......










Cribbage Update: Jools takes control, Jools 6 Kev 4

Monday, September 11, 2006

Introduction to Mongolia

Haven't found the time to compose an entry detailing our adventures in Outer Mongolia yet, so here's a brief introduction to whet your appetites:

Desert - a load of sand.








Camels - live in the desert.








Ger - home of nomadic Mongolians.









Mongolian man - lives in a ger in the desert, tending his camels

Friday, September 08, 2006

Olkhon Island - Something Fishy.

Having left the comfort-zone of our cabin, it was back to the real world of not being able to read any signs or comprehend what the natives were jibbering at us. After a vaguely worrying taxi journey, some frantic finger pointing and hand waving, a smattering of stilted, mispronounced Russian from the phrasebook (cheers ISD) and a three hour wait in the bus station we found ourselves in a minibus heading for Olkhon Island on Lake Baikal. A six hour journey ensued (with a beetroot soup stop after two hours) before we were dumped on the dusty streets of Khuzir (the main settlement on Olkhon). The town is like something out of a modern day cowboy movie; the mean streets are ruled by fearsome cows, packs of feral dogs and gun-toting kids on motorbikes with sidecars.

Our home for six nights was Nikitas Homestead where we were treated to three hearty meals a day - mostly including delicious, freshly caught local fish (omul). Nikitas is a hodge-podge of wooden cabins, yurts, sheep, woodpiles,vegetable patches, randy dogs, chemical toilets and banyas. For the uneducated amongst you, a banya is an integral part of Russian life. The "banya experience" involves a dry sauna, steambath, a stiff beating with sprigs of birch leaves followed by a plunge into a barrell of ice-cold water. A thoroughly invigorating experience - especially the birching!


Our time on Olkhon was spent relaxing and exploring the island - which for all you stats freaks out there is 71.7km long, with a maximum width of 15km, an area of 730sq km and a population of 1500 (most of whom live in Khuzir). The island is the geographical, historical and sacred centre of Lake Baikal; the focus of old legends and ancient traditions. It concentrates all the diversity of natural landscapes typical of Baikal's shore area - soaring majestic cliffs, vast deserted sandy beaches and dunes, mysterious rocky coves and rolling, forested hills and valleys (*cough*, excuse me while I extract our guidebook from my gullet)

A local shaman also informed us that Olkhon means "dry island" due to it's miniscule annual precipitation levels. We experienced both precipitation and frozen precipitation during our stay.

The following paragraph is FAO ISD HIG; OK?:

During our six days on the island we carried out an above average number of t-tests. We are 95% confident that the black tea is significantly more palatable than the green, rhodedendran and berry teas (pee<0.05). Hopefully such detailed and useful statistical analysis (well at least as useful as any of the stuff the rest of you wasters are doing) will count towards the 10 days we're contractually obliged to work during our year away. If someone could arrange for finance to transfer the money into our accounts that would be great - cheers!

Cribbage Update: Jools breaks back in style with world record score of 24 - Jools 4 Kev 3

PS - having some problems posting photos at the moment. Hopefully add more later.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Moscow to Irkutsk

5185km
78 hours
5 timezones
4 Belarussians and
1 pack of cards


The cast:
Oleg(20) - Language student, English speaker, "translat-o-r" and musician.
Aleksey(10) - School kid, lucky at cards and games, wants to be a footballer.
Yuri and Lubia - Parents of Oleg and Aleksey, both in Russian Army. Yuri likes ACDC and Lubia is partial to a bit of Dickens.

The story:

9:30am - Jolted awake by a bumpy section of track
9:45-10am - Attempt a full body wash under a strangely engineered Russian tap.
10-11am - Rota system for breakfast round the table.
11-11:30am - Poker school with the family; 7 matchsticks maximum bet.
11:30-11:50am - Train stops. Wander platform checking out the local produce. Buy some mashed potato cakes.
11:50-12:30pm - Read some Dostoevsky, Pushkin and Jackie Collins.
12:30-1:30pm - Russian/English lessons with Aleksey.
1:30-2pm - Eat noodles, salami, bread, cheese and fruit.
2-2:30pm - Watch the family eat noodles, salami, bread, cheese and fruit.
2:30-3:30pm - Gaze out the window at gingerbread houses, haystacks, cows and endless forests.
3:30-4:30pm - Learn and play some Russian card games with the family whilst enjoying the 70s and 80s music being piped through the carriage.
4:30-5:10pm - Snooze (dream about noodles and salami)
5:10-5:30pm - Train stops. Wander platform checking out the local produce. Buy some caviar bread, a bottle of vodka and a toy tractor.
5:30-6pm - Get thumped at chess by a ten year old.
6-8pm - Discuss/compare life in Russia/Scotland, covering topics including politics, sport, films, music, education, crime, the environment and hairy haggis hunting techniques.
8-8:20pm - Train stops. Wander platform checking out the local produce. Buy a goatskin scarf, half a marrow, 2 cedar cones and a cut glass vase.
8:20-9pm - Eat noodles, salami, bread, cheese and fruit.
9-10pm - Play cribbage.
10-11pm - Write journal.
11pm - Jolted off to sleep by a bumpy section of track.

The ending:

It was sad to be leaving our adopted family on arrival in Irkutsk; we'd become quite attached to our cabin and our cabin-mates. Clutching our gifts (Belarussian raisins and Russian cedar cones) we wandered off into the sunrise. Next stop Lake Baikal and Olkhon Island.

Cribbage Update: First break of service, Jools 1 Kev 2