Later that morning we arrived at the small town of Naushki, located a few kilometres from the Russian border. Here we began the long drawn out process of the border crossing from Russia to Mongolia. When the train arrived at the station it was boarded by a group of tough, burly, Russian border crossing officials. Our passports were taken so we could be 'checked out' of Russia, and we sat back to wait... and wait... and wait! During this wait we weren't allowed off the train or even access to the bathrooms. Luckily we'd been prewarned by our tour guide and all made a mad dash for one last visit to the toilets before we pulled into the station!
When our passports were eventually returned we were allowed off the train while the engine of the train was changed from a Russian train to a Mongolian train.
When our passports were eventually returned we were allowed off the train while the engine of the train was changed from a Russian train to a Mongolian train.
Although it was a wet, grey, dreary day, we welcomed the chance to get off the train and stretch our legs. The town was verging on third world conditions, I think it was only built for the purpose of the border crossing. It was made up of delapidated houses amidst pot-holed dirt tracks that were used by the locals driving around on tractors and puttering old dirt bikes.
Half the group stopped at the first restaurant we encountered, mind you I use the term 'restaurant' lightly, as it was more just a run-down old shack consisting of a tiny kitchen, a counter, and some picnic tables adorned with red and white plastic table cloths. Ben and I continued on with a few others to hike a nearby hill for a view over the town.
Tucked just over the crest of the hill we found a cemetary where all the graves were marked by coloured bed frames, decorated with flowers and ribbons. Such a strange find in the middle of nowhere, Siberia.
We re-joined the rest of the group at the 'restaurant' and tried some traditional Russian dishes including dumplings and Borsch - a delicious beetroot soup, then trouped back to the train station where we were greeted by the sight of our shiny and blue new Mongolian engine.
The train chugged a slow ten or so kilometres over the border into Mongolia. Here it stopped in the Mongolian border town where the process of train confinement and passport checking was repeated, this time to make sure we had visas to enter the country. When we were allowed off the train an hour or so later, we made a dash to the bathrooms, only to discover Mongolia was the beginning of the Asian style squatting bathrooms, much to our disgust, they definately take some getting used to!
We left the Mongolian border town later that evening and relaxed on board for our last night before reaching the capital.
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