The Chronicle

The never-ending bus trip

Tired and hungry, a traveller heads through gorges and bogs into unknown territory

- BY Cale Lawlor

‘‘ 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.

 ?? PHOTO: CALE LAWLOR ?? It isn’t just for tourist purposes, the Mongolian countrysid­e does actually look like this.
PHOTO: CALE LAWLOR It isn’t just for tourist purposes, the Mongolian countrysid­e does actually look like this.
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