As we shuffled aboard the 9.22am from Beijing to Chifeng, a few of us were delighted by an electronic sign which read: “Please take care of your children. No romping on board.”
There were 11 of us in the group, most retired or very nearly so and none with romping in mind. We were here to start Intrepid Travel’s “Trans-Mongolian railway adventure”, an 11-day overland journey from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar which, with Russia’s Trans-Siberian railway in effect off-limits, seemed an ideal alternative for thrill-seeking train lovers. It would have been just about possible to organise the trip independently, but the complications with language and logistics meant that travelling in a guided group made sense.
Not that we wanted to be mollycoddled. The group was naturally interested in experiencing local culture and trying regional food, the more unrecognisable the better — all except Marc. A doctor from New York, he confessed early on that he was not a “good eater”. This was a shame as his wife had an adventurous palate. Where was she then? “Oh, she really doesn’t care for travel,” he said. He travelled but didn’t eat; she ate but didn’t travel. It was hard not to feel a little sorry for the American when watching him miserably nibble crackers while everyone else feasted like conquering warlords on giant portions of Mongolian lamb.