It has been quite some while since I traveled any real distance by train, and if at any point before then I’ve ever traveled to
The train itself it set out in cabins, each equipped with four bunks, and this being the only way other than flying or renting a camel to get betwixt
Ron and Hermione are, by all appearances, a young married couple, or possibly a brother and sister. Either way, they’re not making out or anything, so it isn’t really sketchy or anything. They travel about as lightly as I myself do, and are entirely agreeable company in every way. Neville, however, is seemingly off to college in Mongolia and has brought his entire house with him in the form of no fewer than 17 pieces of luggage, including a new computer, two large trunks, and a number of boxes, several of which might easily contain a yak. Happily, he has also brought along a fairly liberal supply of Chinese moon pies, with which he is most generous, thus proving himself to be a good fellow too, by all rights. It appears that he might also not speak the same language as Ron and Hermione, though it may just be that Ron is a bit peeved about Neville stowing one of his yaks in Ron’s bunk. Ron also carries a cell phone, the ring of which is exactly the same as of a friend back home of mine. It is a very curious feeling, to find oneself on a train half a world away from home, in a sea of strange people, not one of whom speaks my language (Ebonics). All in all, it reminds me some of my time working at Family Dollar last year, except safer and with better food.
We presently have arrived in the mountains, a high and craggy line yet recently thrust up from within the very molten core of the Earth, raising themselves defiantly towards the heavens in a way altogether different from the kindly and ancient Blue Ridge way back in Old Virginny. Each lies terraced up to the very Zenith, as the local farmers are loath to begrudge the land even an inch of fallow ground. We are far removed from the bustling streets of
We have just made our way past The Great Wall (or possibly one of the many Pretty Good Walls, or possibly even one of the occasional Not Too Shabby At All Walls). This of course means that we are now vulnerable to the local Mongol hordes who ply this forbidding waste. I can only hope that my store of Twinkies and obvious love of furry hats may win them over, should we fall under attack. Also, I think we just passed some kind of kung fu dojomajig up on a really big rock. I bet they’re always having all sorts or legendary soulless ghost ninja battles there, and maybe even a gift shop too.
We now (some hours later) are passing through an expanse of what I believe is scientifically called “A Hell of a Lot of Nothing” The riverbeds run dry and funky-looking Dr. Seuss trees claw their way skywards in a Mordor of perfect desolation upon the Earth that almost makes New Jersey look verdant and green by comparison. The persistent smell of coal in the air reminds me of the power plant back home as well as the inescapable fact that this is a terribly unfunny travelogue thus far which I shall have to counterbalance later on in which I make like of intergenerational tensions in Eternia.
A discovery which I find immensely heartening has just occurred, as I have found that the Mongolian word for toilet looks very similar to our own; a discovery which promises to make the rest of this journey a far more comfortable one that it otherwise might have been. Further more, the bathrooms here have proper toilets in them instead of the funky in-ground ones they seem to prefer back in
Though the other gentlemen in our room are presently sleeping (Neville having spent about the last twenty hours in a state of unconsciousness), Hermione is up and, in a delightful turn of events, reading the latest Harry Potter book. I meanwhile have busied myself with watching the scenery and listening to the collected works of Jim Croce, including “Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown,” Don’t Mess Around with Jim,” and the little-known “Oh Crap, Look Our for Dave, He’ll Punch You In the Face. No, Just Kidding, Some Other Guys Kills Him in a Humorous Manner at the End of the Song.” My vital supply of jelly beans is holding well, and as long as the lady selling Chocolate Frogs comes by before too very long, I expect I’ll probably survive all the way to my destination.
Second Day:
I awake after an uncommonly sound night’s sleep to find myself in the midst of what can only be either the
Just in case remained that this was a real, bona fide desert, we just passed a real, honest, totally not fake cow skull, just like all the stories say there ought to be in this sort of place. Also, I have just witnessed my first wild camel ever. It’s one of those two hump ones, which my sister tells me make for a much superior ride in terms of comfort, security, and low-ridingness. Mere words cannot convey how totally awesome this is.
Well, he at last appear to be drawing near to Ulan Bator, my destination, so I shall end this entry here, resuming after I’ve gotten a chance to settle in for a bit.
