Welcome to Mongolia

Prior to crossing the border we stayed in the last real town, Kosh Agach. Our hotel seemed to be a beacon for travellers and we met a group of Israeli photographers also on their way to Mongolia. I also had a brief conversation with a Russian guy who recognised not us, but Maggie! Apparently we had parked it in his street in Novosibirsk a few days back. I guess she is pretty easy to remember!
Reading that the border opens at 9am and hearing from the photographers that it takes about 4 hours we aimed to be there at opening time. Arriving at about quarter past we were waved through by an unusually friendly Russian lady and were met with a stern man saying “driver, traffic control”. Off Hayden went with documents in hand, returning a couple of minutes later telling me we needed to go to passport control. Too easy I thought. Stern Russian began shouting “bags, bags, take your bags”. We opened the back and thinking that surely he didn’t mean ALL of them, we toddled off with just our personal bags. Another shout, “all the bags, all”. This may not have been so problematic if it wasn’t for the fact that we had to haul everything up a flight of stairs, through two small narrow doors and place them on a conveyor belt to be scanned. It was at this point that we were joined by a family from Kazakhstan doing the same thing. Their belongings were soon mixed up with ours, however, they had clearly been through the process before and had everything actually in bags. Meanwhile, Hayden and I are still tramping up and down the stairs carrying cooking equipment, tents, sleeping mats, tools, spare parts – you name it, we had to carry it. Eventually Stern Russian told us to stop and leave the car to go through passport control. Stamps received and the sniffer dog done searching the car, it was time to carry everything back out two small narrow doors and down a flight of stairs and pack it all back in the car. With an uncharacteristic “good luck” from Stern Russian we left Russia for No Man’s Land. No Man’s Land is practically a country in itself. We drove, and drove and drove until, about 30km later we see a gate. Not the Mongolian border yet, just a gate with some guy checking our passports and a lady writing down the vehicle registration. in about another 10km we reach a row of cars and another gate, this time with official looking buildings and a lot more people milling around. We join the queue behind the Kazakh family and wait. A little tap on the window signals to us that we need to pay some money and the driver needs to go to the booth with the documents. Hayden ventured out into the freezing cold (the Mongolian border is on top of a mountain and it was -6, not including wind chill factor) and met with the Gentle Giant in the booth. Gentle Giant is also the gate keeper to Mongolia. Every so often he would come and open the gate and let 2-3 cars in. After almost two hours he saunters over towards the gate. Here we go, we are the second car in line, game on. Nope. Gentle Giant puts a padlock on the gate. Mongolia is shut for lunch. No one seems to mind of course, out of cars they come with cookers, hot tea and cigarettes. Kazakh Grandad even had a shave! Very quickly Maggie was surrounded by men who had no problems kicking the tyres and knocking on the panels. It was genuine curiosity, but nevertheless, Hayden and I thought it best to get out of the car. Hayden opened the bonnet and they all had a look in. They were so curious that they were peaking right into the window. We decided to let them have a good look and opened the car doors. They were fascinated by the wooden interior and Smart Car seats and there was plenty of tapping, knocking, poking and prodding. Kazakh Dad seem intrigued by the doors, he opened and shut them about four times grinning each time at the ‘click’ sound they make. Amongst all these men was a young guy who spoke very good English, it turns out he had studied in Seattle. He served as a tranlsator to the old boys and provided us with some good conversation and information about Mongolia. Around an hour and a half later we see Gentle Giant approaching the gate. Hayden gets Maggie firing and we are well and truly ready, but alas, Gentle Giant reaches the gate and shakes his head, he turns and heads back to his booth. Damn. Wait a second, Gentle Giant emerges again from his booth and walks to the gate, it turns out he had forgotten the key! With a grin, he waves us through and we reach the next stage.
We follow directions on where to park Maggie and take our passports and documents inside. There is a large sign welcoming us to Mongolia, two booths for passport checks, several windowed offices down the side for car checks an a baggage scanner in the far corner. A queue is not really the correct term here as it more like a bunch, but an orderly bunch. No one appears to be pushing, in fact it appears you can wander anywhere you want. People walk between the booths and stand checking over the Booth Lady’s shoulder staring at her computer screen and she doesn’t seem to mind, she actually appears to be having friendly conversations with them. The people come and go, heading out for cigarettes and toilet breaks. Hayden and I stand dutifully in our spot and wait patiently. Things are so casual that it’s hard to be frustrated at the slow process. The Big Friendly Boss even began walking around handing all the staff sweets. Now is the time to mention that whilst there were a lot of official looking people around, there was not a lot of work being done. Booth Lady was the only one, and she was being constantly distracted by colleagues and locals alike. Big Friendly Boss later told us that they normally have two Booth Ladies, but the other is on vacation. So it goes. They are also trying out some new software which is why it is taking so long, about ten minutes each person. I try hard not to count the number of people in front of us. Eventually, Big Friendly Boss figures out a way to speed things up a little and takes Hayden saying that he can come and do the car paperwork and check now whilst leaving me to wait in the queue/bunch. Fair enough. Big Friendly Boss even tells Hayden that he has an “immigration officer just for you who speaks perfect English”. It turns out Perfect English also studied in Seattle and he is mates with our English speaking friend from earlier. Hayden completes the paperwork and assures them that the car will not break down and be left in Mongolia and goes outside with Perfect English readying himself to haul all our belongings up to the baggage scanner. I continue to stand and wait, watching as box after box of confiscated vodka is carried in. I’m beginning to understand why Big Friendly Boss is just that… Expecting to see Hayden coming in with all our bags, he returns to the queue/bunch empty handed. Perfect English made home empty out a few bags before saying “hmmm, how about you just tell me what’s in there, ok?” OK. He was then just interested in taking a look at the car for himself, even retrieving Big Friendly Boss from inside so that they could marvel at the wooden dashboard and be impressed by our route together. Job done and we felt pretty pleased with ourselves as we watched local after local having empty their cars. We waited for a while longer and eventually it was our turn with Booth Lady. She entered our details and took our fingerprints, all the while curious locals looked over her shoulder. Finally, after about eight hours, we were almost there. Just one more stop on our way out to purchase car insurance and pay road tax and we were on our way. The road opened to a great landscape – dark, rocky mountains capped with snow, a herd of yaks, one long gravel road snaking through the moonlike terrain and not another human being in sight! Welcome to Mongolia.