The Trans Mongolian Railway Journey — Starting in China and Mongolia
Overshadowed variation of the Trans-Siberian Railway.
Often shadowed by the Trans-Siberian railway, a 7-day train journey bringing you from Vladivostok to Moscow non-stop [should you not decide to break up your journey], the Trans-Mongolian railway is one of three railways which end in Moscow [or starting from Moscow, if you’re coming from the West]. The Trans-Mongolian railway originates in Beijing, China, and cuts across Mongolia before turning West at Lake Baikal in Russia all the way until Moscow in a week. Arguably one of the best rail journeys this world has to offer, it is a journey you have to make at least once in your life.
I knew going in that traveling alone would be tough and not for everyone. However, deep inside I also knew I had to throw myself out there by myself for an adventure, unlike anything I have done before.
This is a travel journal of my 2-month solo Trans-Mongolian [and beyond] journey from the perspective of a 19-year-old boy from Singapore.
My decision to travel the Trans-Mongolian route is linked to my love for the outdoors and learning new cultures from far away lands not easily accessible.
With my trusty Osprey backpack and a goal to travel the entire Trans-Mongolian route, I bought a one-way ticket from Singapore to Tianjin, China. 48 hours and a series of trains took me through vast empty land in the Inner Mongolia region which seemed inhospitable for humans, especially with the dropping temperatures the further north I went until Erlian [aka Erenhot, where the land border crossing between China and Mongolia is located]. From Erlian, I took a train to Zamiin Uud, the border town of Mongolia, where I had to race against time to change my Chinese Yuan into Mongolian Tugriks and buy an onward train ticket to Ulaanbaatar for the same train.
My first and only week in Mongolia was spent in Kharkhorin, an ancient capital in Mongolia that transported me to what I can only imagine is a paradise in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by rolling brown hills in all directions capped off with a blue sky devoid of clouds. The air was fresh, with the morning sun providing enough warmth to counter the freezing temperatures and wind chill. Occasionally I would hear the baaing of sheep or the galloping of horses in the distance as I sipped my morning tea [no coffee, sadly]. Herders were decked out in traditional wear perched on horses as they directed their livestock towards green pastures for the day.
I took a trip out to the Orkhon Valley in a Hyundai Sedan with the best driver I have ever seen [he navigated and drove through rocks, sand, hills, ice, snow, and across frozen lakes with ease]. I was in a country where a third of the population is nomadic and I managed to join them for meals and accommodation, opening up my eyes to the Mongolian culture.
To travel alone to a country where you don’t speak the language or know much about it at all, you have to be comfortable with change and yourself. You only have yourself to rely on, and as the journey goes on you learn to look at challenges or setbacks as an unexpected side adventure and you see the positive side of everything.
It was tough for me, adjusting to the sharp language and culture change while battling a lack of sleep. It also didn’t help that almost everything that could go wrong within my first 48 hours, went wrong [think sudden border closures in a place where internet information is non-existent, last-minute scrambles to exchange money and buy tickets for onward journeys with strangers, and hours of wandering the streets searching for a sim card]. However, these were challenges that forced me to think on my feet and force myself out of my comfort zone to initiate conversations with foreign strangers to ask for help, something which I have never done before. Looking back, I take it as a valuable learning lesson for me which got the ball rolling in terms of personal growth.
As I sat on a local bus from Kharkhorin back to the current capital of Mongolia, Ulaanbaatar, there was a smile on my face and I couldn’t control my tears from watering up my eyes as this epic journey began to unfold. I have hiked up snow-covered trails to a sacred monastery, endured torturous drives across all kinds of terrain [snow, ice, mud, sand, rocks, and actual road] and was humbled by a massive frozen waterfall in Kharkhorin. I spent the next couple of days in Ulaanbaatar, exploring the coldest capital in the world filled with an interesting food scene and historically significant monuments and museums before I packed and prepped for arguably the biggest portion of my journey — Russia.
I was ready for Russia.
I was excited for Russia, mainly due to the preparation of the documents needed prior and also because it is truly one mammoth of a country. An overnight bus from Ulaanbaatar would have brought me to Ulan-Ude, the heart of Buddhism in Russia, if not for one of the more memorable side adventures of my trip.
I arrived at the border between Mongolia and Russia at 10pm and we went through border control. However, seeing as I was the only foreigner in a bus full of Mongolians and Russians, it was inevitable for me to gain a lot of attention from everyone. That came with extra Siberian dog-sniffing patrol and x-ray checks on my bags, which led to them finding that one of my medicines was banned in Russia. A few hours of confused attempts at translation meant the bus had to leave without me and I ended up spending the next 10 hours at the border filling up paperwork and answering questions. As such, I had to hitch-hike my way from the border of Russia to the town of Ulan-Ude, roughly 3 hours by car.
Accommodation I stayed in
Kharkhorin: Gaya’s Guesthouse
Ulaanbaatar: Zaya Hostel
These were originally posted on my blog, which I found more tedious to manage than Medium. These are stories from a trip I embarked on in March to April 2019.
