Dates preface 26-08-2005 27-08-2005 28-08-2005 29-08-2005 30-08-2005 31-08-2005 01-09-2005 02-09-2005 03-09-2005 back home 4 Dutchies Pyongyang to Beijing After our last breakfast in Restaurant #1 we take our luggage downstairs where our van is dutifully waiting for us at the door. Mr Kim hands us our passports. Oh, yes right, we will need them later. Being driven around "all in" for a week kind of deteriorates the ability of independent thinking about such practicalities. A last view over Pyongyang from the 33rd floor of the Yanggakdo Hotel We go to the train station, only a five minutes ride. In front of the station we seize the opportunity to give Mr O the envelope with the tip and the bags of gifts. We've been hauling it around all week, because we couldn't decide what was the right time to give them. On Simons advice we bought some things people cannot get here, like instant coffee, soda powder with added vitamin C and Marlboro cigarettes. Sasja also split his overdose of Cup-a-Soup bags between the three bags. Yesterday I've been trying my best to write "thank you" in sort of legible Korean characters on the envelope. As Simon predicted, Mr O receives the gifts with a short "yes" ant that's it. That's fine to us. They find it difficult to receive things, we find it difficult to give, for the same reasons. So we're even. Quickly we get our luggage out of the van. The North Korean tourist buro KITC organized our stay and excursions It's very busy on the platform. Unfortunately we're in a Chinese train. A Korean one would have been cooler off course, but that one rides on different days. Our part of the train does Pyongyang - Beijing, the other part Pyongyang - Moscow! Oh, it would be so cool to go back all the way by train! The guides take us to our compartment and there we say our goodbyes. I tell them that if they ever get a chance to come to Holland we'd be happy to show them our country. After all, you never know if the reunification will ever happen. I really hope it will! It's 10.15: the trains starts moving. We press ourselves against the window to wave at our guides on the platform and then the train leaves the station. Now we're really going home. Well, first to Beijing off course. It's feels kind of good that it will take another 23 hours before we'll arrive there. We first have to ride for a few hours before we cross the border and really leave the country. We share our compartment with the French Romain and a Chinese guy, who hangs out in the corridor for the most time of the trip. Soon a lady comes by, who proposes in gestures that we have lunch in the dining car at 12 o clock. That seems fine, so we nodd in agreement. The price will be five euros per person. At the appointed time we walk into the dining car and find there are exactly three free chairs left. For a while nothing happens. We sit, other people sit and get served. We wait. The train stops and stands still for a while. The ventilation is off, which is an indication of a power outage. We hang lopsided in our chairs for a while, because the train is just on a sloping piece of the track, when all of a sudden the power is on again, the trains starts moving again and our food is served. I look up the Korean word for mineral water in the little phrasebook I bought in Pyongyang. It's "jaksu", much simpler than anjonghasimnika (hello) so that should work. I pronounce it as convincingly as possible to the waitress. But apparently it wasn't convincing enough, because very soon three bottles of beer appear at the table. I resort to shaking no and pointing out the word in my phrasebook. That works. Off course the train meal is also too big to finish. When we pay, we get our change in Chinese yuan and two bottles of water. Good, now we have a stash of water. Our change consists of some Mao's and two bottles of water We spend the rest of the day with reading, staring out of the compartment window or sticking our heads out of the window in the corridor. The countryside is beautiful: bright green rice fields with sun pouring down on them against a background of blue mountains. Occasionally we pass a village. We watch the people working along the tracks and in the fields. Not every one working here has a Kim Il Sung badge on their shirts, but I think they wear it on their coats they just took off. We so regret we're not allowed to take pictures. That is: it's very much discouraged, because Korean fellow travelers are obliged to report photographing westerners. We even heard a story of a train being halted at the border until the customs people had been able to check out all the pictures of an unruly tourist. An extra battery had to be found somewhere to make this possible and all that time the whole train had to wait. We've been trained so much this week we don't even think about it. At 3.30 in the afternoon we suddenly arrive at the border, at Sinuju station. For the third time this vacation we pass an international border by train. And again, it takes several hours. The Korean customs people enter the train. We hand over our passports and fill out a exit form and a customs form. Tip: make sure to always carry a copy of you passport and visa, because you always have to hand over your passport first, and then fill out the numbers on all kinds of forms. An older customs guy with a long, slightly sour looking, face enters our compartment. We have to open our bags. Communication does not go very smooth, because we do not speak each others languages, and gestures are also not the same everywhere in the world. The gesture that means "come here" in Korea looks to us as "go away" so it takes a while before we understand who should leave the compartment and who should stay. In Sasja's photo bag the guy finds the little hard disk we use to backup our pictures. What on earth is this? Sasja gestures you can put a flash card in it. Well, that's what he should do then. Come on: switch it on. The device only has an lcd display that indicates who much space is left on the disk and if the copy had been completed. It doesn't show any pictures. Hm… the man frowns… well, put it back. The guy leaves and after a while his younger colleague is coming to see us. He wants to see Sasja's small camera. He mumbles "Casio", turns it on and starts browsing though all the pictures. When he finds a picture of me eating at the boat restaurant he laughs and turns the screen in my direction. Enthusiastically I nodd back and make eating gestures. The boy seems to more interested in the camera, than really to be checking anything, because next he pulls out the flash card and looks at it intensively. North Korea Train route Pjongjang-border The border We're gestured outside. We were the first in our wagon to be checked, so we can go and enjoy the nice and fresh air outside, while the rest of the passengers are awaiting their turn in the hot train. We recognize the train station from Simons description. In the mint green building are the bathrooms. They also sell some souvenirs, like maps of Pyongyang. I suddenly regret not having bought a map of Korea, one with the country as one in stead of two countries on it. But too bad, they don't sell it here. And they don't understand me either when I try to ask for one. We sit outside on a little wall, nicely in the shade, consuming water and pistachio's. The English group stubbornly remain inside the train. I cannot imagine why, because it's become unbelievably hot in the train by now. A group of waiting Koreans are so bored the they noisily clear their throats every two minutes and spit in a nearby pile of sand. Romain is shocked. What a bunch of dirty guys! We laugh and tell him "Wait till to come to Beijing, the Chinese are even worse! Then we get sent inside the train again. We get our passports back. After waiting for an other long time the train finally starts moving. Away from North Korea. I stare out of the window. It give me a weird feeling of melancholy to leave this bizarre country. Goodbye Korea… Annyonghi Choson! The Apnok river is the border between China and NK. During the Korean war, the Friendship Bridge over the Apnok was destroyed. The Chinese built a bridge exactly halfway, so the Koreans could build the other half. Apparently that was not what the Koreans liked so they responded by building a complete bridge over the river, right next to the Chinese one. The Chinese half bridge is a tourist attraction now. This is the closest you can get to North Korea without a visa. We pass it at a short distance from the train and we see Chinese, carrying umbrellas against the sun, standing at the end of the bridge and peering to the other side. We stop at Dandong station, the Chinese border town. The formalities in China only take 1,5 hours, one hour less than on the Korean side of the border. Off course we have to fill out the umpteenth health declaration of this trip. And look: this time there actually comes in some one in a white coat who takes our temperature! He has an infrared thermometer that he holds at our necks for a second, and then we're all declared healthy. When our Chinese travel companion starts making phone call, I suddenly realize I didn't get my GSM back. Duh! I should have gotten it back in Pyongyang, upon boarding the train. I didn't think about it for a second. Oh well, we'll see. Our super exotic train ticket When all formalities are over, the Chinese guy gets off in Dandon and we're just with the three of us. We close our compartment door to discourage Chinese with loads of luggage to come and sit with us and when it gets dark and there's nothing to see outside anymore we go to sleep. It's only half past seven in the evening. As we're half asleep the conductor knocks at the door and gives us our train tickets. They have a picture of the Chollima statue on them. Hey, what a cool souvenir!