(This summer Andrew Killeen traveled around Mongolia with his wife and two children: Noah, 10, and Joseph, 7. In this series of posts, he shares tips and tales from their adventures. Check out part 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4 of the series.)

The culmination of our trip to Mongolia was the national Naadam festival, held in July every year. Naadam simply means “Game”, and smaller events are held all across the country throughout the summer. However the capital’s version is the biggest and most prestigious. We bought tickets via the LG Guesthouse for both days, although with hindsight one day would have been enough.

Make sure you go on the first day of the festival, and catch the opening ceremony, a spectacular expression of national pride, featuring dancing, battle recreations, parades in traditional costume, and, when we attended, a celebration of the 35th anniversary of the flight of Mongolia’s first (and to date only) cosmonaut.

Most of the other westerners disappeared after the ceremony, and we soon discovered why. Mongolian sports are not particularly geared towards spectators, and unless you know the competitors personally (as of course most of the onlookers do), the appeal can be elusive. However it’s fun just to wander around and watch the crowds, participants mingling with spectators, and enjoy the sideshows such as fortune-telling and that old favorite, seeing how long you can hang onto a bar.

Of the Three Manly Sports central to the Naadam, wrestling is the most dramatic. As with the other events the competitors are not professionals, and are competing for the glory of their hometown or region. However the sport is central to Mongolian culture. Traveling around we frequently saw young men wrestling formally or informally, and it’s not hard to see why Mongolians have come to dominate sumo, to the distress of many Japanese fans.

Unlike sumo though there is no ring, and bouts only end when one of the wrestlers is thrown. As a result they can go on for some time, and for the Naadam the officials intervene after 30 minutes to try to force a result. Even so the event was running very late by day two. It’s well worth trying to catch one of the challenge rounds, when the wrestlers line up and their coaches sing a list of their accomplishments, followed by an invitation to the opponent they want to face. While each song is being sung, the wrestler being praised wheels around, arms outstretched like the wings of a falcon.

The second of the Three Manly Sports is archery. The target is a pile of blocks on the ground, and the arrows are blunt – which is just as well, since the judges stand around next to them, indicating the skill of the shot by raising their arms and singing. It’s an impressive sight, but the novelty soon fades.

Anklebone shooting is a minor event at the Naadam, but one of the most entertaining to watch. Competitors flick sheep bones at a row of other bones set up on a platform. There are of course traditional songs to celebrate good shots, and shooters will hum to encourage each other.

The third Manly Sport is horse racing, but here I must come clean. We were so exhausted from our adventures that we didn’t make it to the venue, which lies outside the city. A taxi driver refused to take us, saying it was too far, and we were unable to find the bus stop, so in the end we simply gave up. However we weren’t too disappointed, as we’d had a previous encounter with the riders.

We had been crossing the desert south of UB when we saw trucks and jeeps ahead of us, and asked the driver to take us over to investigate. It became apparent that we had stumbled across a practice session for the Naadam. The jockeys are children, and one local jokingly asked whether Joseph would be competing. While the dads stood around chatting and making bets, the kids saddled up and rode around in a circle, singing an eerie, wordless song. At an unseen signal they all galloped away, and disappeared in a cloud of dust. It remains one of our most magical memories of Mongolia.

Photos: Karen Killeen

(This summer Andrew Killeen traveled around Mongolia with his wife and two children: Noah, 10, and Joseph, 7. In this series of posts, he shares tips and tales from their adventures. Check out his first part in the series here.)

“Have a good time in Ulaanbaatar,” my colleague said to me as I was leaving the office. “Don’t get mugged, like I was.”
“What?” I had been halfway out of the door, but this brought me back. “You were mugged?”
“Yes, in broad daylight.”
Other colleagues then chimed in with their experiences. “Everyone gets mugged in UB.”

But we weren’t, nor did we ever feel threatened. It’s hard to deny though that Mongolia’s capital is a rough and ready place: drinkers passed out on the street are a common sight, and to reach one shop we had to pick our way nervously past a pack of feral dogs.

Anyone who has become used to the relative safety of Beijing may need to resharpen their street smarts.

However it has charm too, with oddities such as a monument to the Beatles: John, Paul, George and Genghis – no, actually, it seems they have no connection to the city whatsoever. The statue though is a popular place for young people to hang out.

The National Museum of Mongolia is well-organized and interesting, but the Natural History Museum has been closed for several years (despite which it continues to receive glowing reviews on certain online travel sites…).

Its dinosaurs though, including a huge and impressive tyrannosaur, have been moved to the Central Museum of Mongolian Dinosaurs, located, with acute historical irony, in the old Lenin Museum. Apart from the two big skeletons the other exhibits are unimpressive, but it’s still a must for dino-loving kids.

A visit to the city’s Buddhist temples is more exciting for children if you go when the ceremonies are taking place at 9am. The chanting, droning trumpets, and ringing bells create an extraordinary atmosphere. Gandan Khiid is the biggest and most impressive temple, its ongoing development testament to the way Buddhism survived decades of repression in Mongolia. Nearby is the splendidly named Centre of Shaman Eternal Heavenly Sophistication, its physical reality a much less impressive camp of grotty gers. We wandered in for a look but were chased off by a barking dog and a shouting woman; we could only conclude that the shaman himself was not at home.

We found plenty to keep us entertained during our stay in UB, but our main purpose in being there was as a base for exploring Mongolia, and to see the Naadam Festival, which will be the subject of my final two posts in this series.

Photos: Karen Killeen, https://mongolia.usembassy.gov

(This summer Andrew Killeen traveled around Mongolia with his wife and two children: Noah, 10, and Joseph, 7. In this series of posts, he shares tips and tales from their adventures.)

It’s the 21^st century, and flights from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar only take two and a half hours. Why on earth would anyone spend 28 hours going there on a train, as we did?

Well, for one thing it’s cheaper (though not by as much as you might think). More important however is the romance. I’ve written before about the excitement of traveling with children on a sleeper train. And this train goes on all the way to Moscow, on the tracks of the legendary Trans-Siberian express. It’s one of the world’s most celebrated railway journeys.

As with most train travel in China, tickets are released 60 days before the day of travel. However, you can’t buy international tickets from Beijing Railway Station and its handy English-speaking window 16. The ticket office you need is the China International Travel Service, hidden away in Beijing International Hotel. And you can’t use cards, you have to pay with cash. However service there is quick and courteous, and there’s an ATM in the hotel if you’ve forgotten to bring money with you.

Tickets cost around RMB 1500, depending on the class, and children travel cheaper. We opted for soft sleeper, but if I was doing it again I’d fork out the extra for luxury soft sleeper. Not only do you get an en suite shower, but (more importantly) a power socket, the need for which I will explain later. Hard sleeper is only recommended for the particularly money conscious, those inured to Chinese mattresses, and those without personal space issues.

Don’t forget you may also need visas. Holders of US passports don’t, for visits of up to 90 days, but most other nationalities do. They’re not expensive at USD 53, but have to be obtained in person at the Mongolian Embassy.

Trains depart from Beijing Railway Station. Shortly after departure staff will collect your tickets and replace them with a token, for no reason that I can discern, since the tickets are returned to you at the end of the journey. You’ll also get vouchers for meals – don’t make the mistake we made, of saving one for the next day! They’re for specific mealtimes only, and no use if you miss it. The dining car on the second day is Mongolian-run, and you’ll be given different vouchers for it.

When traveling with kids, the great advantage of train travel over flying is the amount of space you have. A four person compartment is cosy for a family, and of course the kids can lie down and nap whenever they need. However, one downside is that you are on the train for a long time, including the time you spend asleep. We brought games, cards, and books, but by the end were all gathered around my laptop watching a movie. That’s why the power socket alone might justify spending the extra money for a luxury compartment.

When you arrive at the Mongolian border, at around 9pm, there’s a lengthy stop at Erlian, where you can stock up on supplies. The train then enters a shed. Mongolian rails are a different gauge to Chinese ones, so the “bogies” have to be changed, as well as the engine and dining car. At first this is dramatic and mysterious: the huge echoing space, the quiet of night interrupted by the thunderous clang of metal, the sudden jolts as carriages are coupled and uncoupled. It’s a lengthy process though, and after a while I gave up and went to bed.

Even then though your sleep will not go uninterrupted. Border guards will inspect your passports and visas, and will insist that children are woken up (although one of our children is a heavy sleeper, and when he didn’t respond to repeated shaking and calling they eventually took mercy and left him in peace.)

When morning finally dawns, you’ll be crossing the wide grasslands of Mongolia. It’s still several hours to your destination though, so don’t leave it too late to get to the dining car for your lunch. You’ll need all your strength when you arrive in Ulaanbaatar, which will be the subject of my next post.

Photos: Karen Killeen