The never-ending bus trip
Tired and hungry, a traveller heads through gorges and bogs into unknown territory
‘‘ But I, and my three bags of luggage, had a seat and hopefully we were heading to the small village in the Mongolian countryside...
IN THIS final tough travel tale, Cale hits the road alone while his friends continue their adventures in the Mongolion capital, Ulaanbaatar.
Ulaanbaatar to Tsetserleg Soum, Mongolia
I was woken up earlier than planned by a friend of a friend who was to take me to the bus station. I wasn’t ready. And this framed the day.
The stranger, who I trusted because he turned up at my accommodation and knew where I was going, dropped me off at the bus station where I may have taken a local’s spot on the bus.
But I, and my three bags of luggage, had a seat and hopefully we were heading to the small village in the Mongolian countryside where I was to spend a month. We left town, and I left my friends in the capital Ulaanbaatar, to have adventures without me.
It was on the back of a stressful hot day getting a visa extension and doing two phone interviews for jobs in Australia. The bus rolled into the countryside, all to be expected.
After three quite reasonable hours we turned, leaving the Millennium Hwy for dusty tracks. We continued relentlessly through gorges, quagmires and, at one point, a running river. I think I was the only one bothered by this. My seat mate fell asleep, and his young child fell asleep on me.
A lunch break was a good chance to get out and stretch the legs, while everyone on the bus squatted around the bus attending nature’s call. Back on the bus, and the only food I had brought was a large bread roll and a bottle of water.
But sitting above the wheel arch made the water unpalatably hot, and the bread was too dry to enjoy. So it was this low food, high fatigue, unfamiliar and above all lonely situation that led to existential questions about why I was doing this to myself, and why I had chosen to live in rural Mongolia for a month when the only way in and out was a never-ending bus journey.
My back started to ache from the seats, the bumping meant I couldn’t rest and the lack of food made me lose faith in my decision-making ability. I tried to distract myself with my music, but The National was so depressing that I had to stop.
For all the mental turmoil that doing this trip into completely unknown territory alone created, the sense of relief when I recognised the town ahead was palpable.
Stopping in town and seeing the familiar faces of my Mongolian friends made all the difference, and a home-cooked meal was so appreciated. Unfortunately, a few hours later the meal disagreed with me in my accommodation, a school classroom with a bed (with bedbugs), no running water, no purified water, where I was alone.
It was a trying day, and the added difficulty of doing it without a buddy made it stand out as the most arduous trip I have ever done. Fortunately, though, like the other two trips, and all the trips before it, it led to a beautiful destination, unforgettable people and a wealth of experiences. And the ability to tell a travel story for those who will listen.