Russia > Waiting at the border

The night was restless in the hotel. The walls are thin, and the snoring and coughing of the other guests carried straight through. I wake up at half past six to the alarm of our Russian neighbors. There is only one shower for all the guests, so it pays to get in quickly. By half past eight we are ready to leave. The motorcyclists are only just waking up. They thought they had adjusted to Russian time, but their phones were still set to Kazakh time. We drive ahead by car toward the border. For motorcyclists it is easier to pass the queue of waiting cars. At a gas station we fill up with our remaining Russian rubles. Then we continue along the dead-straight road through the dry valley. At Tashathi we arrive at the border. A long line of cars is waiting there. I estimate at least a hundred vehicles ahead of us. A Russian couple on a motorbike, just coming from the other side, tells us the border is open.

Russia - The long line at the RussiaMongolia border crossing

It opened at nine o’clock. Starting tomorrow, the border will be closed for five days because of the Naadam Festival in Mongolia. That explains why so many people showed up early at the border today. At the crossing, five or six cars are let through at a time, then the gate closes again. It will take hours before it’s our turn. Many Kazakhs are waiting in line. They have close ties with the western Mongolians, and many cross the border especially for the Naadam Festival. Russian youths walk along the line of cars, speaking to people. Now and then someone leaves the queue. Where are they going? We get the impression they are paying to move forward. We have no idea how it works or whether it’s reliable. Slowly we inch ahead. The motorcyclists catch up with us. For them, crossing the border is far easier; they can just ride past the waiting cars. After several hours, an older man comes up to us. Would we like to take his place in the line? Otherwise, he says, there’s no guarantee we’ll make it across today. Now we understand how the system works. Local villagers line up with their cars and then sell their place or let other vehicles pass ahead of them. A lucrative business. Although it doesn’t feel right, we decide to accept. Suddenly we are only ten cars away from the border.

Russia - On the way to Khovd through the Mongolian landscape

Even then, it still takes half an hour before our turn comes. At customs they ask for the car declaration. We never received one when we entered Russia. The officer keeps shouting louder and louder that he needs the declaration. Saying “we don’t have it” doesn’t work. People behind us tell me I can get a new declaration at the entry booth. Meanwhile, the customs officer waves me away from the counter. “Go! Go!” He turns to help others. The new declaration doesn’t help either—it has to be filled in already. A colleague walks with us to the car. “Show me all the papers you have.” In the end, she pulls out the declaration from Kyrgyzstan. That turns out to be the document they meant. Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, and Russia cooperate in this system. How could we have known? If I had understood Russian, I’m sure I would have heard something like “stupid fool.” After passport control comes the vehicle inspection. Other cars are being completely emptied, but we get through relatively easily. Twenty kilometers further is the Mongolian border. Here too, the formalities go fairly smoothly. Still, including the wait at the border, it takes us nearly seven hours to get across. On top of that, the clock jumps an hour forward. But the result is what counts—we are in Mongolia. Around six o’clock we arrive in Olgii, about eighty kilometers from the border. Today the bad Mongolian roads weren’t too bad; we drove mostly on asphalt. Tomorrow will probably be different. At the Travellers Ger Camp we sleep in a ger (a yurt is called a ger in Mongolia) in the middle of town. The ger is surrounded by mosquitoes. Whole swarms buzz around us.