The morning in the night train began with an unpleasant surprise... Kirstie had food poisoning and to make matters worse she had a nasty cut on her forehead because she fainted on the train toilet. Not really the most hygienic place, only the night before I had seen how a little boy had peed in front of the sink, assisted by his mother. We disinfected and closed the wound with Leukostrips as well as possible in the swaying train. Subsequently we decided that we would definitely not, as originally planned, board a ship the same evening. So we found a hostel in the Lonely Planet and for once took a cab there. Maybe a short break would do us all some good...

Chongqing is located on an island where the Yangtze and the Jialing meet and is the starting point to the river cruises that pass the Three Gorges. The "City of the Mountains" has a lot of very steep streets, especially around the port area, and even features a cable car across the Yangtze. If only the administrative city limits are considered, Chongqing is, with 29 million inhabitants and an area as big as that of Austria, the largest city in the world. But "only" 4.3 millions live in the core city.

Due to a small miscalculation of our travel time to the station, a delay purchasing the tickets and a missed metro it was a pretty close call to reach our train to Xi'an in time. When we finally arrived at the station we stormed up the stairs and unfortunately had yet another security check that stopped us (luggage scan and metal detector). In China those are common at every entrance to train or metro stations. We only had six minutes until the departure of the train! At the entrance to every track there is a gate - kind of like at the airport - that was just about to be closed. Waving frantically we signalled the staff to wait for us and I suspect due to a small foreigner bonus they let us pass. We ran down the flights of stairs and jumped one after the other into the train. I just made in time because the doors closed right behind me. When I entered the car, panting, I was stared at like my fellows by the other Chinese passengers. Apparently people arriving late is not a very common situation there. After I had stowed my luggage I fell down on my bunk, still breathing heavily. I made it!

The Great Wall, one of the most fascinating monuments of mankind and we were only two bus rides away. Our first problem arose even before we left: we needed to find a functioning ATM. Chinese ATMs are a little moody, just because they say Visa on them they not necessarily give you money using a Visa card. After trying five ATMs and almost an hour later we were finally in possession of some cash. (At least ICBC is reliable...) In comparison finding the bus to Miyun was a piece of cake. There we got off at the bus parking where the surrounding didn't look very trustworthy and were immediately besieged by a pushy cab driver who wanted to take us to Gubeikou, of course at a ridiculously high price. Even though we made it very clear that we weren't interested he followed us to the bus stop and kept saying that there were no more buses going today. After we verified that we were at the right stop - it took about 10 minutes to find the Chinese character for Gubeikou (古北口) on the plan - we decided to wait, even though we weren't really sure if we hadn't missed the last bus. The cab driver, who was still waiting, started to make us nervous but the long awaited bus arrived five minutes later and we waved cheerfully goodbye to the driver.

After quite a number of kilometres and hours spent in the train I finally left the Trans-Siberian Railway in Beijing. The square in front of the station was packed with people as expected and the sky was bright blue which was unexpected since the smog warning. So after all I didn't need to put on my breathing mask, a pleasant surprise. My hostel was situated pretty central and despite the jumble of Chinese characters I found my way walking there. Just as I turned into the right street a nice Chinese man pointed out the hostel for me I would have passed otherwise unnoticed. Getting help without asking for it was not a thing I had expected to encounter in China. But soon the first problem arose: my previously installed VPN client did not work. Which was rather bad because China does not only censor Facebook, Youtube & co but also everything relating to Google including the Android Playstore (and my Blog!!!). I never thought I would miss to "google" things. Baidu or Yahoo are just not the same and seriously "I'll yahoo it" sounds not as convincing. After all, you can find new acquaintances without Facebook and so I went to dinner with a Swedish and an English guy from my dorm. We found a small local place around the corner where we could order by pointing at the pictures of the food on the walls. (Those are really helpful for ordering without any Chinese language skills.) The owner even took a picture of us eating with his smartphone. That's more how I imagined China...

After passing an exciting month in Mongolia I got back onto the train. A little more than 28 hours and one border separated me now from my next destination, Beijing. The breathing mask I bought gave me the feeling of being well prepared. (A small Reminder: The smog situation in Beijing in December was so bad that it was worldwide in the news. Yes, I know I'm pretty behind on my blog!) Before sunrise I made my way to the station through Ulaanbaatar's still dark and deserted streets. On my last morning I experienced the city from a different side, quiet without the heavy traffic and the constant honking. I strolled along the sleepy platform looking for my compartment. When I entered it I met my new travel mates, an US couple and a Scottish girl who were already getting comfortable. After stowing my big backpack in the bench and doing the same the train started moving with a sudden jerk. Suddenly I could feel all those butterflies in my stomach, my next adventure was about to begin...

Ulaanbaatar, the 1.2 million person city, is now home to nearly half of the Mongolian population. Accordingly, it's large, colourful and loud for local conditions. The streets are crowded with constantly honking cars and despite the freezing temperatures, the centre is filled with people. At first, the hustle and bustle, in combination with the fact, that you can't read or understand anything (again!), seems intimidating. But soon you realize that the supposedly aggressive honking is a mean of communication, that many Mongolians will assist you in finding the right place and that the peculiar combination of modern and traditional is somehow sympathetic.

On the forth day of our travel we made three stops for a change but they were laying very close to each other: Yoliin Am, the Ice Valley; Khongoriin Els, the biggest dune field in Mongolia and Bayanzag, the Red Cliffs. Our briton had to be back in Ulaanbaatar the next day therefore he had his own driver that would take him back to Dalanzadgad after Bayanzag. We would continue our journey north to the next ger. On the way to the Ice Valley we were still driving together in our van.

The beauty of Mongolia does not lie in Ulaanbaatar. With the help of my hostel I found an organized tour which I could join, eleven days exploring Mongolia. I had hoped I could organize something on my own like my trip to Terelj. But actually most of the attractions are so far off that you will never get there without a good(!) driver, especially with so much snow.