Welcomed into Russia

The monotony of; eat, sleep, and paddle continues, but now with a new flavor: we are in Russia. And more so paddling is a pleasure after spending two days crossing the Mongolian/Russian border. It is prohibited to cross the border by foot (or for that matter by canoe), and so we hired a Mongolian cab driver who was up for the task of transporting two canoes and four passengers. We loaded our gear into the van, and while doing so a crowd assembled around.

At first we believed that they were curious, but it became otherwise apparent when they started to hand the driver an assortment of goods. Two tires were strapped to the van, along with a few bottles of vodka hidden under the seats.  Our driver had a particularly interesting technique to smuggling jeans into Russia; at least five pairs were worn, one on top of another,  the rest were hidden under his baggy sweater, strapped onto him via a girdle. Our driver was making his trip into Russia well worth it.

With these preparations finished we headed to the boarder, with grand hopes of getting the import taxes that we had paid for the canoes reimbursed. After four hours of waiting, it became apparent that we did not have the correct documents; the logistic company who shipped our canoes would have to deliver them from and the capital city of Ulaanbaatar the next morning. A disappointing end to the day but at least we were not wearing five pairs of jeans during the process.

The next morning our paper work had arrived and we could once again commence our bureaucratic bushwhack through the Mongolian customs office, most of which was handled by Ulysse. From an outside perspective it appeared that Ulysse spent most of the day following a small posy up and down stairs, from one side of the building to the other. At about 1 in the afternoon they finally stamped our passports, we were officially out of Mongolia. 

Just up the hill, the Russian border is quite the contrast, high electric fences garrison the perimeter, Russian uniformed army personnel peruse the grounds, and the surrounding hills are spotted with small watch towers. Despite the appearance and language barrier the Russians were quite friendly, even curious. They had us fill out some documents, they looked over our equipment, asked to open a few bags, had us fill out more document, stamped those documents, asked questions regarding the canoes, x-rayed the vehicle, and had us sign a final volley of documents, before finally welcoming us into Russia. 

By Eric McNair-Landry