Sunrise over The Gobi Desert. So delicious, more like the Gobi Dessert. Serve With Coffee.
Since life on the train was the same through Mongolia, I won’t be wasting any more words talking about the experience here. Rather, I’ll use this space for pictures to show you what Mongolia was like, which will really say it better anyways than I ever could. On a level, it is somewhat ironic that in a fellowship, which I have set out to study how bicycles are used by people, has taken me now to the two least population dense countries in the world (the other being Namibia). Nonetheless, transportation here more than perhaps anywhere else is of vital importance, in that to live in this berran and inhospitable lunar landscape you have to be, as my Grandma reprimanded me once for being, “a god-damned nomad.” So, here are the pictures, and enjoy, but before you go any further, I sugest you look at these photos while listening to your favorite train song. While a toughie, I’d have to recommend ‘Slow Train’ by Solomon Burke.
A little more south, a little latter in the day, the snow is gone but not the cold. We are thoroughly into the Gobi. As far as I could see there ain’t no roads in Mongolia, so the VERY rare driver just drives paralel to the train in order to not get lost in the nothing. It is odd, disconcerting, and rewarding, like watching the filming to an action movie, seeing a semi going 80 mph off road running over bushes and getting occasionally semi-air-born. Other “god-damned nomads”, only these ones had some pretty sweet yurts, especially compared to my backpack which still smells of the avocado and shampoo that it was marinated in the Mozambican sun. Close up of another yurt near the railway. Have to presume they move near the railway / impromptu roadway to meet cars, because it would otherwise be near impossible to find anyone in the Gobi.
Mongolia: Wild Horses couldn't drag me away. According to a biologist onboard these wild stallions are the "rarest wild horses in the world" and because they live in the Gobi they are short and fat, like hershey kisses with hooves.
Spent a long time trying to figure out what these frequently occurring mounds were from. My best guess? Ever seen Bugs Bunny? It looks like the holes Elmer Fudd stands outside of pointing his riffle. After I pointed this out, the bar car just started calling them “waskly wabbits.” And Then we figured out what was causing the “wascally wabbits”… Yeah! Wild camels! And ain’t they a beautiful sight? (for the record, I still have no clue what was causing those mounds).
My humps. My humps.
And with some quick frisbee at a stop…
and then it was a quick Mongolian sunset...
...and then it was into China the next day...
...and onto Beijing. THE END
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