“4.5” – Beijing-Ulaanbataar

For the first time on our trip, we found ourselves in a four-person berth with only one other traveller alongside us. The downside of such a well-established route was the equally well-established cooling system: a slide-down window or a loud desk fan fixed above it. The fan was noisy for those on the top berth, and the window let dusk filter in to coat the bottom berths as we headed into the Gobi desert.

Our berth-mate, Cristoph, was travelling back from New Zealand to Austria via the slow route – taking two weeks to traverse the Trans-Siberian by rail into Europe. We also made friends in the lunch queue with a Swiss teen called Leo who was making the same journey with his family. “Lunch queue?” I hear you ask – that’s right, we were given tokens for the lunch carriage at each mealtime and invited to wander through first class two times a day.

This was one part of the trip that I had not anticipated, so we were well-stocked regardless. This was truly the Trans-Siberian railway of old, and the wood-panelled surfaces and separate dining car felt straight out of an Agatha Christie novel – although Poirot would never have debased himself with second-class cars like us.

As we wound into the North of China, we delighted at the bleak scenery and entertained ourselves with cards, often joined by Leo. We established very late on that Evie was not familiar with playing cards using Ace for the ‘1’ of every suit, which.. explained a lot of the trip up to now.

At Erlian, in Inner Mongolia, the train was stopped and we were given the chance to leave for the station waiting room. Unfamiliar with the process, we opted to stay in the carriage while the entire train was lifted off its wheels, and a new set was rolled in for Soviet-gauge track. We spent most of this time playing cards to pass the time and regretting our choice not to leave the train, since the bathrooms were closed for customs reasons while the trains were changing gauge.

The next day we awoke to a new gauge, a new Country, and a new dining car – this time without the free coupons. Dismayed at being charged thousands of Tögrög for what looked like a simple meal, we made our choices from the menu and accepted our fate. The meals arrived looking identical (unlike the menu), but the upside was discovering how much (little) we’d actually spent once Kirsten’s phone had data and we were able to look up the exchange rate.

As we approached the outskirts of Ulaanbataar, we were struck by the lack of permanent buildings in lieu of compounds containing yurts. It really reinforced the idea of Mongolia as a nomadic culture ahead of our arrival in the capital – although how accurate this is, I cannot say.