The Trans-Mongolian Railway

We fought through the bustling throngs in the Beijing Rail Station and boarded our train for Ulaan Bataar. I was almost shoved down the stairs and under the wheels by a tiny little Chinese woman intent on making her train. Nevertheless, we found our car and our berth, a four bed cubicle that we shared with Monique and Sven, a great Dutch couple who were on a journey similar to ours.

Once the train started rolling, we were treated to an ever changing vista of mountains in northwestern China, with the Great Wall snaking along the ridges, to the endless plains of the Mongolian steppe, sometimes obscured by fierce snow squalls, and other times clear and barren and dotted with wandering herds of horses, antelopes, and camels.

After three days of swaying to the rhythm of the rails, we arrived in Ulaan Bataar, to face the descendents of the mighty Chingiss Kahn.