Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
'Well boys, I have no idea. I don't know the addresses, and in any case we have
a pecking order in the army. Phone calls can only come down to us from higher
places. We can't call them,' he replied. 'I tell you what you have to do. You have
to go to Naushki. It is about forty kilometres from here. There you will have to put
your baggage on a train and cross the border as a passenger. If you put your bikes
into top gear, you might just make it for the evening train. So, guys, where have
you cycled from?'
We set off with a vengeance, pounding the pedals and battering the bitumen
as if it was the heart of Russian bureaucracy. Sanity, it seemed, had been left by
the wayside in this instance. We didn't know what the time was or when the train
was leaving, but our frustration fuelled our speed. My legs became swollen as we
powered up that long, steep hill and passed our old camp site.
We managed the forty kilometres in two hours, and arrived screaming through
Naushki. Drivers swore at us and I swore back. I pulled into the railway station,
bottomed out in a puddle and landed flat on my bum. Chris ran inside to buy tick-
ets.
I lay in a heap with the blood throbbing through my veins. A door slammed and
Chris emerged. 'The train is leaving in one minute. They won't sell us tickets and
the next train doesn't leave for twenty-four hours. Bugger it!' he growled.
Naushki was a seedy little place overrun by soldiers, drunks and local traders
from Suchbaatar, the neighbouring town in Mongolia. With little choice, we spent
the night in the station's waiting room. After lying down, we were joined by eight
Mongolians, all fighting for a piece of our sleeping mats. In the end I had a thirty
centimetre portion and lay squeezed between a man who smelt of vodka, and a
couple who wriggled closer and closer, elbowing me in the back.
Along with them came hordes of blowflies that crawled over the floor and onto
my face. At 5 a.m. we were kicked out by a furious cleaning woman wielding a
broom. At first she told the Mongolians to leave the 'poor foreigners' alone. But
when I raised my sleepy head and she got a look at me, she ordered us out as well.
Several hours later the train arrived and we scrambled aboard. After convincing
some very unhappy conductors, we squeezed the bikes into the narrow aisle. Once
inside, I collapsed onto a bed. 'Finally, it's over,' I whispered.
In transit I felt untouchable - the world lay beyond the thick glass. For a while I
could truly relax … or at least I thought so.
