7 - Mongstruck (Gachuurt)

Ulaan Baator to Gachuurt, MONGOLIA - 07 july 2002

Tina was feeling better. Goretti’s spirits had improved. It was time to get out of Ulaan Baator. Tina and Jus had a 2-man tent. The five of us decided to go to Gachuurt which was a nearby village and camp by the river.

The village was nothing much, but once we headed away by the river, the countryside was really pretty… rolling hills, grazing horses and sheep, gers in the distance, sparkling river…

We agreed on a camping spot finally and put up the tent. I instructed the guys, “OK, you guys cook lunch. And we girls will go hunting.” “How the world has changed…” Pablo quipped. Well, actually, I meant, hunting for wood and branches for fire tonight.

After lunch, Tina and Jus went for a walk and the rest of us decided to take a nap. It was not long before the rain came. Goretti, Pablo and I scrambled into the tent. Hmmm… It was already crowded for the three of us. If it rained tonight, how were the five of us to sleep in here? Goretti suggested the Spoon Position. Well… ahem.

Pablo spotted the eyes of foxes in the distance that night. Wow… being the nature guide that he is, he was quite sensitive to sound and spotted reflections from their eyes when we shone our torch in the right direction. For me, I heard nothing and saw nothing.

That night, Goretti slept out in her hammock and Pablo right by the beach. With the earlier rain, it still felt cold. I was glad I was tucked in cozily in the tent with Tina and Jus.



Gachuurt, MONGOLIA - 08 july 2002

After breakfast, we decamped. The river could be crossed as we had seen Mongolian holiday-makers swimming and wading to the other side.

Goretti and Jus walked across first. The currents got really strong and at one point, they had to walk parallel to the banks for about 50m because that area was shallower and the currents slower. The shallow parts soon petered into a beach on the other side of the river. Now, knowing the route, Tina crossed next. Pablo and I had no sandals with us. So, we removed our boots and crossed bare-footed.

Have you heard of pebble therapy? If your feet hurt when you walk on pebbles bare-footed, it means there are many problems in your body. Well, from the pain I felt, I must be a pretty sick person. This pebble therapy is used back home in Singapore so I had anticipated the pain and I endured it better. I overtook Pablo, giving the impression that the ordeal was effortless for me. He looked at me, incredulous. He thought that I felt no pain. After struggling halfway, he seriously wanted to give up. I told him he would have a wonderful sleep tonight with the pebble therapy. Just endure.

This side of the river had rolling hills and gers. The weather was great today and everywhere was picture-perfect. Some boys were riding horses and herding their sheep. Very Mongolia…

There were edelweiss flowers too. We broke into the song ‘Edelweiss Edelweiss, every morning you greet me…’. Tina and Goretti plucked some of them, saying that in Europe, they were a protected species. Well, if Tina and Goretti stayed in Mongolia long enough, edelweiss would need to be a protected species here too.

We wandered around for about an hour, trying to figure out a good camping spot. A Mongol herdsman rode towards us. He was glum-faced and unamused. He indicated that this was his private property. We had to leave. We apologized profusely and gestured that we would cross the river back.

With some difficulties, we crossed the river to an island. We walked further until we came to a slightly narrow part of the river to attempt to get back to the same bank we were on this morning. However, this side of the river was deeper and had stronger currents. The brave Goretti and Jus again tried to be the pioneers to get across. They tried for a long time. The water would come all the way up to their chests. It was OK if we got wet. We just wanted to protect our passports and cameras.

After another hour or so of being stuck out here, some kind Mongol horsemen across the bank took pity on us and brought their horses over for us to cross. We took turns without incident until Pablo’s turn. His horse nearly drowned! Pablo, sitting on the back of the horse, had water right up to his waist! When his horse climbed ashore, it panicked and galloped away at top speed!!!! This was like a movie! We stared with our jaws wide open! I could not move. The Mongol horseman who crossed the river with me, pulling the horse I was on, had to drag me off the horse in order to go chase after Pablo’s! Imagine, if Pablo had fallen off the horse, with his feet trapped in the stirrups and his head in between the tramping legs… it would have been a disaster!!

But Pablo steered the horse to a group of grazing horses and when it rounded a curve and slowed down, Pablo the Argentine Gaucho that he is, jumped off and walked away. What an adrenaline rush!!! We were so thankful Pablo was alright. Accordingly to him, his whole life really flashed before him!

We set up camp and figured we had probably moved 200m from our last camp-spot but we had taken 4 hours or so and a near-death incident, to accomplish it. We started to make pasta for our dinner. The herdsman who had earlier driven us from his property, surprised us by crossing the river on horseback and riding towards our camp.

We wondered if we were again on his private property. But he quietly disembarked and looked at us curiously. Tina offered cigarettes. He took one and sat down. Slowly, Tina charmed him further with her finger-pointing ability at her Mongolian phrase-book and managed to get a conversation going. We learnt the following: He had eight children. His profession was ‘Herdsman’. He was a Hindu.

We invited him for dinner and he accepted. Through the phrase-book, he indicated he would bring some milk and yoghurt. That would be nice. And he galloped away.

The first pack of pasta we cooked looked gross. The sauce looked pathetic. Goretti, Jus and I suggested cinnamon, raw onions, condiments from our pack noodles, etc… to spice up the terrible sauce a little. Pablo slunk further and further away from the fire, as we proceeded to massacre his beloved pasta and sauce. His Italian heart must be bleeding now.

Indeed, this was the worst pasta I had ever tasted. To us, it was not a problem. Ketchup would fix all horrible food. But how could we offer it to The Herdsman? We had to finish up everything and cook our second pack of pasta for him.

This time, Pablo took over and he made a really wonderful bowl of al dente pasta for The Herdsman upon his return. He was beaming from ear to ear as he slurped up the spagetti. In turn, we gratefully drank his goat-yoghurt and salty horse-milk.

That night, Goretti and Tina brewed edelweiss tea. Can you imagine that? We were crazy. With excellent weather, Pablo and I slept under the stars, with the rushing river right by our feet. It was magic.























Gachuurt, MONGOLIA - 09 july 2002

At around 7am, Goretti shouted to us, “Hey, I think it’s going to rain, ya?” We peeped out of our sleeping bags. Indeed. She scurried into the tent right away with her hammock and sleeping bag. Pablo and I continued to lie on the bank, comatose until the pelting rain was too strong to ignore. We then crawled into the 2-man tent. Somehow, we contorted our bodies and fitted one another’s sleeping bags in all available space and managed to snooze for another 3 hours or so.

We were finally up and about at 10am. The Herdsman soon came over with five horses. He must have been observing us from his side of the river, coming over only when we woke up. We had breakfast together with the goat cheese he brought along. He gestured that we should decamp and pack up. Hmmm… it appeared we were heading back across the river to his ger. He soon assembled some of his children and neighbours and we had one person assigned to each of us to help us ride the five horses.

At his ger, we met his family and neighbours. His wife prepared some bread and poured salty horse-milk for us. We were offered his snuff-bottle and sniffed some of the snuff. This was a Mongol custom - offering snuff-bottle to friends to sniff. To be very frank, we had no idea what was in it but if you sniffed too much, you coughed and sneezed for a while.

His poor wife was washing, cooking, cleaning, making dough the entire time. Her youngest 2-year-old daughter was permanently suckling at her mother’s nipple. The Herdman’s wife shifted the little girl to the left or right without a care whenever the latter got in the way of her domestic chores. We thought she was amazing. Yet, The Herdsman kept indicating his last finger at his wife, which meant ‘no good’.

Pablo asked The Herdsman’s children to draw pictures of the place they lived in. After overcoming their initial shyness, they soon got excited over it and drew many wonderful pictures. Goretti returned to Ulaan Baator today to pick up her temporary passport. The rest of us later took a walk around the hills behind his ger.

That night, we asked The Herdsman where we could set up our tent but he insisted we sleep in his ger with his family. Oh, what a wonderful experience this was!! We were in a ger with a real Mongol family… and NOT in some tourist gers with hot showers and sauna that cost ‘only’ US$50. Excellent excellent excellent!! This would go down as one of the best trip experiences I had had so far!

7 - Mongstruck (Ulaan Baator)

Ulaan Baator, MONGOLIA - 04 july 2002

We arrived at the Ulaan Baator train station in the morning. I spotted Goretti who had disembarked before the others and went over to join her. She set her bag on her left side and turned to me, “Wow… It feels different already, ya? Mongolia seems nicer, friendlier.” Then, she turned back to her left and… “WHERE’S MY BAG??? WHERE’S MY BAG? DID YOU SEE IT? WHERE’S MY BAG?” she started yelling.

OH NO!! HER BAG HAD JUST BEEN STOLEN!!! I told her to run and look around for her bag at once! I got Barbara to watch the rest of our bags and I ran out of the train station to try and hunt for her bag too. I saw so many people getting into taxis and I knew we had to act fast before the thief got away. I tried different directions radiating out from the train station but alas, no luck. Argh!!!

After a while, I gave up and returned to the others. All of us were furiously cursing and swearing. What was worse was that just before she got off the train, she had put her money-belt into her bag. So, she lost her passport, air-tickets, travellers’ cheques, money, EVERYTHING!

Well, there was nothing we could do now except make a police report. Jus, who is Slovenian and could speak some Croatian and hence, could fake a little Russian which we hoped the Mongolians knew a little, would stay with Goretti. The rest of us helped carry a little of their belongings and trudged off to Nassan’s Guesthouse.

Nassan’s Guesthouse was really nice. It cost US$4 for a bed and US$3 for a mattress on the floor. Naturally, all of us chose the floor. There were kitchen facilities in our room too. We suggested making pasta one of these nights.

We met Vincent, a French guy now helping out at Nassan’s. He had apparently been stuck in Ulaan Baator for a long time now, because his motorcycle, his means of travel, was not working. Er, whatever… We asked him where were the cheap places to eat, nearest internet, etc… and Barbara asked where she could buy a bicycle. Hmmm, we frowned with concern…

Pablo needed to apply for a Russian transit visa and he made it to the Embassy just before it closed. What they required from him was a Trans-Mongolian train ticket leaving on 19 July and his air ticket leaving on 25 July and they would be able to process a transit visa for him.

Pablo and I then hurried down back to the train station and made it there 5 minutes before they closed to buy our train tickets. I had my Russian visa for 14 July but there were no seats available until 16 July because many people were leaving Mongolia after the Naadam Festival. So, I bought a ticket for 16 July to Irkutsk. Pablo purchased his 19 July train ticket all the way to Moscow.

Jus and Goretti returned late in the evening, gloomily dragging their feet. The Mongolian police did not speak English, some spoke a wee bit of Russian. Half the time, they had no idea what the policemen were doing. They simply followed them around and signed forms they could not understand. Sigh… It was not over yet. Goretti still had tonnes to sort out tomorrow and perhaps, the day after.



Ulaan Baator, MONGOLIA - 05 july 2002

While Goretti went about with the things she had to do, we visited the Museum of Natural History in the morning. Pablo is a biologist and nature guide. So, he was the perfect companion in this museum and could explain a lot of things to us which made the visit all the more interesting. Later, he left to submit his passport and train ticket to the Russian Embassy.

Jus, Tina and I then visited a very unique museum called the Intellectual Museum. The director of this museum is a genius who designs puzzles. The puzzles are three-dimensional blocks which you need to push or pull to dissemble and assemble. They look impossible to crack. He made chess-sets and pawns of different puzzle designs. Apparently, he had designed over 2000 chess-sets, each pawn of an entirely different puzzle design! Even the tables holding the chess-boards are puzzles themselves. Amazing!

Some of the chess-sets were of regular size; some miniatures; some gigantic. They were made from different materials. The director personally carved, sculpted, hammered each and every one of the pawns himself. He used materials like leather, felt, etc… to dress up the huge pawns into Chinggis Khan or a Mongol wrestler. He used expensive red corals to carve the tiny ones into animals. He is also a carpenter and he made all the tables himself. What can I say… this guy is pure genius!

Besides these mind-boggling chess-sets, he collected other types of puzzles and toys from all over the world. Some of these intellectual puzzles are rather famous and I had seen them used in those expensive enrichment courses paid for by your companies.

But the toys were simply… Level 10 KITSCH. There was a pair of spectacles which had eyes bouncing out; there were Barbies in grass-skirts who danced to music when you hit a little switch; there were dolls that responded upon clapping, one dancing to the tune of ‘Macarena’; there were toys that farted bubbles; there was a Scooby Doo; there were clowns; there were crying babies with milk bottles… It was unbelievable. Pablo is a kitsch-hunter. He would love this museum. We had to recommend it to him and all who come to Mongolia.

We collected Pablo from the hostel and headed to the State Department Store to shop for ingredients for pasta tonight. Pablo’s parents are Italians, so the Italian blood in him made him feel personally responsible in creating the most authentic pasta sauce possible. He fretted about and frowned over the ingredients, or rather, the lack of ingredients. “No, this will not be good enough… We need basil leaves… Oh, if only there is white wine… The real Italian sauce needs to be… My mother cooks with…” He bit his lips and muttered away, frustrated.

“PABLO!! WE ARE IN MONGOLIA!!”

Despite the imagined limitations, he made great pasta for us that night.

At around 11pm, Barbara returned with a New Zealand lady from the next room, Margaret. She then ducked out to use the internet. Margaret solemnly informed us that Barbara had apparently bought an air-ticket back to the States this morning. She would fly off tomorrow.

We were stunned. She must have figured she could not do this bicycle trip alone. But, she could still try and book herself on a jeep tour with Nassan. Yet, she did not give herself nor Mongolia a chance and simply decided to flee after one night’s stay in Ulaan Baator. We felt terribly sorry for her. She is very young after all. She was probably having a huge culture shock. We hoped this incident would not deter her from travelling in the future.



Ulaan Baator, MONGOLIA - 06 july 2002

Goretti, more or less recovered from her ordeal, suggested going to the Central Black Market to see if her camera was for sale. If not, she needed to buy one anyway.

Just before we left, Vincent learnt of our intention and warned us very gravely to beware of Ali-Babas. These Ali-Babas or pick-pockets would usually carry a jacket or sweater. They knew about money-belts and used knives to slash pockets. So, we had to be very careful and not carry anything except a tiny amount of cash. Spooked, we returned and stripped ourselves bare of our money-belts and wallets and got Tina to watch our valuables. Tina had been having diarrhoea today so she was not going anywhere for a while.

Goretti stuck money in her bra. At the first stall, she realised if she wanted to buy something, she would need to reach inside her shirt in front of everyone to retrieve the cash. Ha ha… Indeed, during my sojourn around the crowded market, I felt a few people blatantly pinching my waist to test for money-belts!

Pablo bought 30 pencils for a project that he was conducting. He put them all in his front pocket. Later, a guy with a jacket slung awkwardly over his shoulder walked by and we suspected right away he was an Ali-Baba. He squeezed past Pablo. We turned around just in time to retrieve ONE pencil sticking out from under the Ali-Baba’s armpit. The crowd, perhaps part of the act, then closed in. We recounted the pencils – 24 left. W-h-a-t???? They were after PENCILS too?!?!

6 - From Beijing With Love (Beijing)

Beijing, CHINA - 24 june 2002

Beijing was a blurry, foggy mess when I arrived. I had expected searing-hot 40°C summer temperatures but I heard that a cold front had moved in a few days ago and it had been raining everyday since.

I found Jing Hua Hotel without much difficulty and was issued Bed 3 in the 20-bed dormitory.

Bed 11 guy was playing guitar in the room when I entered. He introduced himself as Raymond, from the Philippines. He is a musician and had been playing in bars around China for months. I recalled another Filipino musician Ato I met earlier in Dali and asked if Raymond knew him. Bingo. They had jammed with each other for years before in Manila and even here in China. What a coincidence!

Eager to exercise my limbs after the 48-hour train confinement, I checked out the massive city immediately. The place to start wandering would be the Tiananmen area. I soon realised that due to an internet bar fire incident a few weeks ago which killed 20+ young people in Beijing, the authorities had gone and shut down all internet bars in China. Well, I guess, travellers like me would be ‘shut out’ from communications with the outside world for a while.

Beijing is impressively modern. I could really feel the efforts put in by the government to improve its facilities and roads, etc… and be spiffy and ready for Olympics 2008. I mean, there are many FREE and CLEAN public toilets around the Tiananmen Square - something almost unheard of in other parts of China.

There seemed to be more toilet attendants than users. I had barely opened the cubicle door to depart before a toilet attendant stuck her head in and demanded to know if I had flushed. Yes, unlike the Chinese, I had been toilet-trained since birth to flush my rose bowl.

For want of a destination, I plucked the Silk Market from the map and strove to get there by walking. The map of Beijing in my guide-book looked innocent enough but Beijing is impossibly gigantic. It took 3 hours before I reached the Silk Market from the Tiananmen area, thoroughly exhausted.

The Silk Market sold Oriental costumes, fake NORTH-FACE jackets and outdoor backpacks and bags, ties, etc… By chance, I ran into Robin and Louise (from England) whom I had previously met on the horse-trek in Songpan! Woah, what a pleasant surprise! It was wonderful to see them again. Louise was buying two Oriental cheong-sams or qi-paos. I would never be caught dead in a cheong-sam but I guess, Western tourists found them exotic.

We caught up with our travels and had a great laugh over the silly things that had happened. Then, I went with them to a famous Beijing Duck restaurant and helped them order two sets of take-away Beijing Ducks as their form of thanks to the friends they had been staying with in Beijing. Y105 each. Wow… that was a lot of money to me. But Robin and Louise were heading home tomorrow and it was time to splurge. Great for them!








Beijing, CHINA - 25 june 2002

Bed 2 guy, Guillaume from Canada, invited me to join him to visit the Great Wall. We decided to head to a section called the Huang Hua Great Wall which we heard was wild and crumbling and which had very few tourists.

It had rained continuously since last night. We had chosen the worst day to climb the wall. But we were not alone in this error of judgement. We ran into two other room-mates, Matt and Tim from England, at the metro station and they had decided to camp out at Huang Hua Great Wall tonight… in this weather.

The company was great fun and the 4-hour metro-and-bus ride to get there did not feel that long.

Indeed, this section was absolutely wild. It was NOT set up like a kitsch amusement park catered for the packaged-Chinese tourists, with T-shirts and souvenir kiosks, a place to print certificates with photos stating ‘I climbed the Great Wall’, etc…

There was only one food stall selling drinks before and after your climb… and a handful of obligatory T-shirts for sale. Hang on, there was no admission fees here. This was incredible news to us.

We huffed and puffed up the Great Wall, scrambling up the rubble and meandering between shrubs in the rain. I was lucky. I had three guys to help lift me up the tricky bits. The view ahead was enshrouded in mist and fog. We could hardly make out the trail of the wall around the mountains. Sometimes, we thought we could see it but then, we could not be sure. Still, in a way, it greatly mystified the Great Wall.

Beijing, CHINA - 26 june 2002

Bed 6 Pablo from Argentina had overheard that I needed to make a trip to the Bolivian Embassy to try and apply for a visa authorisation. I explained to him that a Bolivian visa application for Singaporeans seemed to be long and tedious.

As he spoke Spanish, he had offered to go with me just in case he could help explain anything in Spanish to the Bolivian staff there. Also, he needed to pick up his passport from the Mongolian Embassy where he had left for the visa.

So, today was embassy-hopping day. I read somewhere I did not require a Mongolian visa if I stayed in the country for less than 14 days. At the Mongolian Embassy, I tried to get a confirmation. The lady surprised me by telling me I had 21 days free. Excellent!

We eventually located the Bolivian Embassy, which seemed to be undergoing some sort of renovations. Side-stepping the rubble outside, Pablo kindly opened the door for us and we entered.

Well, there was not a single Bolivian in sight. An elderly Chinese woman came out and frowned. I explained my intention to her in Mandarin. She barked back that Asians needed to wait 2 to 3 months before an authorisation could be issued. Was I willing to wait? Yes, that was why I came here 3 to 4 months ahead of my intended travel to try and get the authorisation.

She snatched my passport from me and retorted that my China visa would be invalid by then. I patiently informed her I was leaving the country soon and I would have to be contacted by email and with the (hopefully) APPROVE authorisation, I would go to a Bolivian Embassy in United Kingdom, for example, to process the visa. While she disagreed with this move, she grudgingly, very grudgingly, took out an application form and barked out the things I needed to provide - a letter explaining my intention of travel, where I was going, photocopy of my passport, a photo, contact numbers, etc… And I was to return on Monday, not tomorrow, not the day after… but Monday.

Pablo, stunned by the rapid exchanges of Mandarin between us, was once again put to good use by opening the door for us when we departed.

Argh, what an awful woman!











Beijing, CHINA - 27 june 2002

Another rainy day today. I spent the day wandering around the Forbidden City. I had thought I could visit a museum later but seriously, one could only do one thing in one day in Beijing. If you visited a sight, that was it… no chance for another. If you went to the embassies to stock up on visas, that was it too… no chance to visit a sight. Beijing is just massive.

The Forbidden City is vast. I must have spent 4 or 5 hours meandering in there and still, I probably only covered 70% of the things available.

As expected, the place was packed with tourists, many of whom were Chinese, many of whom were spitting on the precious Imperial grounds. And as expected, one could dress up in Imperial costumes and pretend to be the child emperor or the concubine or the mostachioed emperor on horse-back. Kitsch.



Beijing, CHINA - 28 june 2002

Yesterday’s tour of the Forbidden City thoroughly exhausted me for today. I am sorry to report today was a day off for me.

A few of us late-risers in the dorm did laundry together and then, returned and fought for space to hang our clothes.

Beijing was turning out quite fun for me because of the people I met in the dorm. The 20-bed dorm was great. There was always music in the dorm. One could not really sleep as the lights were on late and people were chatting and laughing in the corner. There was no room to hang your laundry. The bathroom was a 25 minute trek down the damp and mouldy basement and as I descended and headed down the long corridor, sometimes, I felt like I was going through a worm-hole and emerging as ‘John Malkovich’; sometimes, I imagined seeing a pair of twins standing at the end of the corridor, with blood flowing towards me. The hostel is located next to a very smelly river. When I was in the crowded bus, I always knew when to get off… you can smell the river before you see it. Like I said, it was a great hostel.

There were always new people popping in and out and new friends to make.

Bed 16 had a Korean-Japanese guy who came wandering in with his possessions tied in a small bundle at the end of a pole. He had untied his bundle and left his entire earthly possessions strewn around the bed. We veered near to check out his minimalist life-style and spotted two tiny souvenir toy-yaks. Yep, there was always room for yaks.

Bed 1 Jackie from New Zealand had been staying here for four months, studying Chinese and teaching English. She and Bed 11 Raymond won the long-stayer awards hands-down.

Bed 12 had Ben from USA. He had shown me his Russian visa invitation letter last night. As I already had my Russian visa, it appeared I was the one most qualified to peruse his invitation letter. He let out a sigh of relief when I nodded my approval of the Cyrillic letters printed on the letter. Today, he must have paid for the emergency processing of the visa, for he had apparently fled Beijing already.

My next bed, Bed 4, now slept Goretti from The Netherlands. Bed 17 and 18 were soon taken up by Slovenians Jus and Tina. They were all heading to Mongolia soon too.





Beijing, CHINA - 29 june 2002

It was the seventh month of Pablo’s 8-month trip around India, Nepal and now, China. Hence, for him, it was time to think of shopping for souvenirs for his friends and loved ones back home.

We headed down to Panjiayuan Market. Gosh, it was an immense market selling all sort of Oriental things. Perhaps some were antiques but I guess most were fakes.

The market had paintings, furniture, vases, giant Buddhas, brass sculptures, coins, wooden carvings, embroideries, ‘ancient’ scriptures, every Oriental thing that you could imagine. It was unbelievable.

We walked around for 4 hours and Pablo bought many items. At one point, we got down to a corner and shoved as many things as possible into his bag before we proceeded on. I was looking out for snuff bottles as presents for the friends whom I would be visiting in Europe. I finally spotted some which I loved and bought three.

About 1½ hours after we had stopped to repack, we passed by the same spot and Pablo eyed a ball of toilet-paper wrapped in a plastic bag lying on the ground. “Hey, that’s my toilet paper…” It must have dropped out just now when we repacked. Imagine, it had been lying there for the past 1½ hours. Incredulous and giggling away, he reached down to stuff it into his bag. As he was doing so, a few stall-holders started yelling at him, “Hey!! Wo de! [Mine!] Wo de!” “No, it's WO DE!” Pablo retorted adamantly.

Hmmm… Fighting over toilet-paper?



Beijing, CHINA - 30 june 2002

Today, Bed 11 Raymond would finally leave Jing Hua Hotel. He would attempt to hitch his way to Lhasa, Tibet via local trucks, without a permit. Bed 12 Ben had done the same in the reverse direction and had advised Raymond on certain tips. Best wishes to him.

I realised my Monday deadline to hand up my application form and letter to the Bolivian Embassy would be due soon. I usually got an A for Procrastination.

I hurriedly wrote a letter and requested for Pablo and Bed 5 Jack (from Spain) to help me translate into Spanish for the Bolivian authorities. I imagined if I submitted my letter in English, they would probably take another month to find someone who understand English to read it.

Then, I headed out to town to try and get my letters typed and printed. Sheesh, when I did not need the service, I would see the signs for ‘Typing/Photocopy’ all over Beijing. But now that I wanted the service, for the life of me, I could not locate these places.

Also, I needed to post my photos and guide-book home. But, first I needed money for the postal services and again, I could not locate an ATM that worked. This one rejected my card. That one had no cash. It was an ordeal as I trudged around Beijing, hunting for a working ATM.

Once armed with money, I then had no idea where the nearest post office was. Yeah, this was the story of my life in Beijing, wandering around in circles for hours.

At the end of the day, I must have walked for 6 hours today. So, I figured I thoroughly deserved a street-side foot massage done near my hostel.



Beijing, CHINA - 01 july 2002

I returned to the Bolivian Embassy gingerly. The same elderly Chinese woman came out to check out who had just walked in.

She looked at me with dead eyes, indifference and showed no sign of recognition. There was no smile, no flicker of life in her eyes. I cooed and purred as best as I could to try and ignite something in her. My charm failed miserably. Defeated, I proffered my application form and letter nervously.

She glanced at my photo and went, “Hey, this is a very nice photo of you. When did you take it?” She looked back at me, smiling. SMILING! WHAT THE?!?? I stared back at her, stunned beyond words. She continued to make little concerned noises, worrying about my travelling alone, etc…

Well, hey… what a difference my gorgeous photo made.


Beijing to Ereenhot, CHINA - 02 july 2002

Pablo and I had decided to head off to Mongolia together today. Yesterday, Goretti, Jus and Tina had gone to the bus station and attempted to get on the 5pm bus to Ereenhot (border town with Mongolia) and could not get bus tickets.

So, now I was worried that we could not get tickets too. I wanted to try for the earlier 1pm bus for if we could not get on that one, we would try for the 5pm bus. But Pablo had to pack all his souvenirs into his backpack and he suspected he would not be ready by then. He suggested I leave first. We guessed we would see each other across the border tomorrow.

Well, I did make it to the 1pm bus. But this stupid bus went to another bus station and stayed there until 5pm before leaving. Darn!! I should have gone for the 5pm bus instead with all my friends from the Beijing hostel. I was really angry with myself for making this stupid decision to try and cross the border alone. Well, I was not entirely alone. There was one other tourist with me, Barbara from the USA.

She was a peculiar girl. She is only 18 and she informed me that she intended to buy a bicycle in Mongolia and cycle around Mongolia for three months. She hoped that she needed not return to Ulaan Baator to renew her visa after each month, so her idea was to cycle way way way out from the capital. I had no idea how experienced her camping skills were but I had serious doubts about this stunt, especially since I learnt she was a vegan - no meat, no dairy products. Imagine that in Mongolia!