Not by choice, we spent last weekend in a brothel. A real one, no half measures. It all started like this, Jan…
We never planned to go to Mongolia at all. We wanted to drive across China from East to West, across the ancient Silk Road. Two days before we left home, we got an email form the Chinese guiding company NAVO who had agreed to be our hosts [foreign cars are not allowed into China without special permits and a guide in the car all the time]. NAVO told us we were not allowed to drive the Silk Road but instead we could only drive south to north, entering from Laos as planned but leaving to Mongolia. We reluctantly agreed.
Once we were in China, we asked again if we could drive to the west. NAVO re-applied to the central government and we were again refused permits to go across China - but given permission to re-enter China from western Mongolia. We agreed as this was a much better option than driving to Russia and Kazahkstan [a more than one thousand kms detour to the north!!].
Returning to China from western Mongolia meant crossing the border near Bulgan in Mongolia, the China side town being Takshken. The border crossing is closed to foreigners and only used by Mongolians and Chinese traders. We were assured that despite those rules we would be allowed to cross.
So after our difficult crossing of Mongolia [see other posts] we got to Hovd, a friendly ethnic Khazak town. We stumbled onto the weekly english speaking club dinner which led to an introduction to Marima, who agreed for a fair fee to guide us through the little used mountain crossing to Bulgan the next day.
We drove ten hours on a track through spectacular gorges, river valleys and high passes. We saw two other cars and one truck all day, and the truck was overturned, resting on its side at the narrowest point of the entire road.
Friday evening in the dark we made it to Bulgan. The only place to stay had no running water nor electricity. There was no food available.
Next morning, we were dismayed to discover that our new China guide was not expecting us until Monday, and calmly suggested we enjoy Bulgan for the weekend. It seemed a lousy option. Various protestations and expensive mobile calls later, efforts were made to find a local guide to meet us at the border. We somewhat bizarely bump into an Australian, Jill Howe, who lives in a yurt in Bulgan and teaches as a volunteer at the local school. We had a wonderful chat and cup of tea with her and her neighbours and just as Bulgan started to look quite appealing, along came a message that we had to go.
The border crossing took six hours. We were quizzed in all by 21 different officials. We finally were allowed into China, but our car was impounded. The documents supplied to Customs were fax copies, and they insisted on originals. We had to wait in Takshken until someone brought an envelope 600ks from Urumqi. The only place with rooms available in Takshken was the brothel. Rooms rent by the o’clock, the Chinese call it, and I have little doubt we are the only tourists ever to stay there.
The novelty of the locale soon wore off, although the girls were very friendly…. well, not too friendly. Sunday morning the Customs office were generous in clearing the car despite it being their day off and we finally headed off to Urumqi and the Silk Road.