Tag Archives: Border Crossing

A train full of eight year old gymnasts…across the Russian border

As the stern looking babushka descended our compartment steps, complete with red hat emblazoned with a hammer and sickle motif, our train could not be going anywhere but Russia. She would be our provodnitsa  ( carriage attendant) for the thirty something hour journey from Ulaanbaatar to Irkusk in Siberia. Something about her appearance fulfilling every stereotype of an older Russia lady (in my head) made the prospect of finally getting to ‘The Mother land’ all the more exciting.

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Journeying west…the train to Mongolia

The lights were off in our train carriage and as the door was pulled open the border control guard shined a bright torch in our faces. He was checking our appearance against the photos in our passports and his demeanour was serious. This part of border crossings is often a tense moment, mainly because Ryan looks distinctly different from his passport photo. Lets just say there has been a huge movement of hair from his head to his face which usually goes one of two ways: the guard laughs or he takes a long time examining his passport, presumably weighing up whether Ryan’s a threat to national security…well he does have a beard after all!

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Almost across the Mekong…Getting to Laos from Thailand!

It is always a strange sensation to know, when you wake up in the morning, that by the time you fall asleep you will be in another country. Breakfast in Thailand, lunch in Loas. So after quickly eating our meal of rice and spicey sausage we grabbed our backpacks and climbed aboard the local bus to Chang Khong, the Thai town on the border.

The friendship Bridge

The friendship Bridge

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A walk across a bridge…Myanmar overland

We climbed on the back of a full songtheow, our bags slung on top, and made our way to the border. Before we even crossed things began to change. In Thailand’s Mae-Sot men were wearing skirts (or longyis), women had their faces painted (Burmese Makeup) and so many people smiled as we passed them in the streets. We must be getting close to Myamar.

The gate to Myanmar

The gate to Myanmar

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