As my three-month visa to Mongolia expired on 1 July, I had to go to the Mongolian Embassy in Beijing and apply for a new visa for my last weeks here. In the early morning of 30 June I boarded the train for a 30 hour long trip to Beijing. The first language I heard was ... Swedish! It appeared that there were two more Swedes in my carriage and a large group of Norwegian elderly people, of whom the oldest was 89. There was also a young Norwegian lad among the travellers. Mongolians were in a clear minority: there were only three of them, all in my coupe.
The not so exciting-looking town of Sainshand.
An example of the very beautiful Mongolian script (which is extensively used in Inner Mongolia, which is a part of China).
The Norwegians all seemed extremely fit and the ladies did their morning exercise neatly lined up in the corridor in the morning. The Chinese staff stared at them but the two Mongolians ladies joined in. As for myself, I was just looking out the window, inhaling the diesel fumes and admiring the changing landscape.
This blog is about Mongolia, not about China, so I will just mention that all went well on my visa expedition, but I had to queue for a total of six hours outside the embassy.
I had chosen to fly back but due to inadvertency from my side I got booked on a flight that took off at 1.05 am and landed at 3.25 am. I still haven't recovered from that totally sleepless night.
A pensive Chinese lady who certainly has seen many things change during her lifetime.
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