The Trans-Mongolian Express to Siberia

Trans-Mongolian Railroad – Overnight Sept. 2 – 3

The train trip from UB to Ulan Ude was one of the highlights of the itinerary, and we were sad to be leaving Chimgee, Khurlee and Mongolia, but expectant about the train.  It was a hot sweaty tough five minutes to board, but we settled in, said good-bye and began exploring our respective compartments, two to a compartment.  The train labored for awhile, switch-backing uphill north out of UB before hitting the straights, pausing to pass freights headed south (lumber, oil, coal, and tree trunks headed for China), stopping occasionally but heading steadily north.

They won't be smiling later on when they meet the Immigration
and Customs folks at the border....

 

Group members getting ready to board.

Khurlee, our van driver, and Chimgee our guide, saying a sad
good-bye in UB.  They are the best!

Immigration and Customs – A Knock in the Night
The Russian car-lady came around with three sets of forms that we puzzled over a bit before filling them out – departure card and immigration forms.  We would depart Mongolia later in the night, and around midnight, we would enter Russia.

We had gone through this before in 1986 when, on the Trans-Manchurian line we passed from China to Russia at Manzhouli.  But, we didn’t know what to expect.

 

A picture taken of the corridor during a happier moment on the
Trans-Mongolian Express.  Sorry we didn't take any photos when
the Russian officials filled it.  What?  You think were crazy?

So, around 11:00 PM, the train slowed and stopped.  Creaking and sighing.  It is very quiet, and then we could hear voices out in the corridor and knocking and voices and finally a knock on our door, a woman dressed in a uniform and with one of those hand-held computers such as those folks doing inventories in supermarkets carry – she took our passports, scanned them, conferred with another person in the hall, asked if we had anything to declare, we said no.  She gave us back our passports and left.  We closed our door, saying “that was easy.”  And went back to sleep.

Around midnight, the train had not yet started to move, when there was a loud commotion in the hall, voices, boots clumping in the corridor, and a loud knock at the door.  We switched on the light, and slid open the door and a woman came in – very officious looking, uniform – and asked for our passports.  There was a young, very tall and serious-looking man standing in the corridor and he motion for us to get out of bed and into the hall.  Annie was dressed in her underwear, and clutching the sheet to her she shook her head and said “no!  I’m no dressed!”  With a smirk he repeated his command motioning us up and out in the hall.  She continued to refuse and after staring him down he motioned that we close the door so she could put on some clothing – which she did and then we both went out and stood in the hall.  We could see lots of commotion further down in the car and what appeared to be about a dozen uniformed folks, rousting our group out into the hall.  The tall guy then went into our compartment, lifting up the bunk, climbing up above our bunks and checking each of the cubby-holes and places in the car – he obviously knew the lay-out of a railroad compartment. 

 

Finally he emerged and motioned us back into our compartment.  The noise continued further down the car and we learned later that the McCrarys had a particularly rough time of it before they were satisfied that we had the proper documents and that we weren’t smugglers.  They marched a German Shepherd through the car for one last sweep, and then quiet descended on the train before it slowly moved north. 

Welcome to Russia.  We’ve been discussing that experience a lot this past two days, and we all agreed that the Russian immigration and Customs officials were clearly enjoying themselves, though they never broke those stern faces.  I have to admit to wondering what the international political issues between the US and Russia might have had to do with it – but, I think they were just enjoying jerking some Americans around in the middle of the night. 

 

But, for a moment, we all admit that we had felt a bit of fear during the encounter.  Though we had no reason to be afraid.  Right?

 An Hour Lost – I woke before dawn and began typing up my notes from the day before, and just at dawn I realized that there was a time change between Mongolia and Russia – an hour.  And here’s what I wrote: “.  I know the time zone here is an hour different from UB, but can’t remember which way – either I’ve got about an hour before arrival, or two.  Annie woke up, it got lighter and she looked out the door in preparation to going down to the samovar (there’s a samovar in every Russian passenger car) to get hot water for coffee.  She popped her head back in and said that there were folks in the car with luggage in the corridor, appearing to get ready to get off.  The train was passing through an industrial area – obviously a large city –Yikes!  Was it Ulan Ude?  I quickly went down and asked the couple with the suitcases if they were planning to get off in Ulan Ude, and they said they were and that they would be doing so in 15 minutes.

    It was like an emergency fire notification – I went down the hall, knocking on our group’s compartment doors – 15 minutes to Ulan Ude!  We gotta get off this thing in 15 minutes! It was a mad scramble, but by the time the train finally slowed to a stop, we had our luggage in the hall and muscled it to the exit door, down the stairs and stood panting on the train platform. Disheveled and out of breath in the brisk morning air.  Welcome to Russia.  Again.

 

Not over yet.

As we trundled our bags up and over a concrete bridge – stairs – separating the track we came in on from the terminal – we were meet by our local guide who helped us to get our stuff on board the van and on our way –at 7:00 AM – to our hotel.  We seemed to have weathered that last minute scramble, but then discovered we hadn’t.  One of our group members (I’ll let them identify themselves if they wish – you’ll have to ask them) had left a bag – computer bag with iPad and electronic gear – on the bunk of the train.  We went through the luggage, and the bag was indeed gone.  So, our tour guide agreed to accompany the bag owner to the police office in the railway station, and we then were driven, one person down, to the hotel.

  Update:  Here a day and half later we have learned that the bag was recovered intact and returned this evening. A damned miracle, we all agreed.  Apparently I had gotten mixed up in the bed linens on the bunk.  Whatever happened, the bag is back safe and sound.  Welcome to Russia. 

 

Ulan Ude, Republic of Buryatia, Russia.  The city of  420,000 is the capital of the
Republic and was founded at the intersection of the Ude River coming in on the left
of this photo and the mighty Selenge flowing toward us in the upper part of the
picture.  We've been following the Selenge during this adventure.