6.15pm: The journey begun with an overnight bus trip from Beijing to the border city, Erlian. Every seat of the bus was taken with a person or one of the many parcels of textiles we were transporting over the border. We began to think that this bus was more of a trade caravan than a tourist vehicle - most people take the plane. We drifted in an out of sleep as we zoomed through tunnels brighter than day and listened to a man crush sunflower seeds between his leathery lips.

5.00am: We arrived in Erlian really early in the morning. It was dark and cold. Somehow we managed to decipher that the bus would be crossing the border at 1.30 that afternoon, so we had the morning to kill. For our fellow bus buddies, this meant a morning of shopping, to fill all the remaining space inside. For us, it meant wandering the streets dreaming of dinosaurs, cashing in Yuan for Tugrik and eating choco pies.

1.30pm: The crossing of the Chinese border into Mongolia wasn’t complicated, but it did involve a whole lot of waiting around. We boarded the bus with our additional cargo and showed our passports at the first stop. Next, we jumped off the bus to get an exit stamp from China and then hopped back on the bus. We crossed the official border and then back off the bus to get our visa checked and entry stamp and finally we waited for 2 hours before the 10 minute drive across to the main town, Zamiin Uud. We waited out on the road while all the cars and buses were checked over by officials, one by one. In hindsight, I would recommend crossing in a jeep - those battered cars seemed to get out of the tangle a lot quicker than we did, much to my frustration. Once in Zamiin Uud, the nicest guy in the world helped us to order 2 small dishes for lunch (all the mains were meaty) and we tried to get used to the new sizes and amounts of the local currency. I worked my way through a scrum to purchase 2 hard sleeper tickets for the 275 train to Ulaanbaatar, which again, was easier than expected.

6.05pm: The platform stretched far in both directions as we made our way down to carriage 24 and our bed for the night. It was squishy and the beds were too short to stretch out properly, but it was a whole lot comfier than the bus, so we were happy. I don’t remember much from the journey, only that everyone looked at me like I was some sort of alien for wearing sandals, and that the coffee lady wouldn’t let us buy any.

9.00am: The sun rose over golden plains, flat and vast. We could see patches of white snow dotting the landscape, as our train wove around the valleys. It truly felt like we had entered a new world, so different from the Chinese lands behind us. At around 9am, we finally arrived in the capital. There were no announcements, we just figured it time as we saw all our friends  from Beijing unload their goods onto the tracks. My feet still in sandals, we headed out and walked the 2kms to our hostel - A small place, tucked just off the main square and heart of the city.

We were told again and again how lucky we were to have such good weather so late in october. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and the temperature settled around the 6 degree mark during the day. Our first point of call was the giant Genghis square which marks the heart of the city and is decorated with larger-than-life bronzes of the man himself, and his most trusted generals. Mongolians are achingly proud of their history, and this square has become a photo location for nearly every wedding that happens in the city.

We met up with Daniels friend, Hulan, on our second day. She had lived, studied and worked in Australia for 5 years, having since come back to Mongolia but trying relentlessly to pass an english test that will let her return. Living and working in Mongolia doesn't sound easy. Like anything, there are pros and cons, but the stories Hulan shared with us made me want to pack her up and hide her in my backpack. I can’t imagine feeling trapped in a place. Feeling like there is nowhere to grow, nothing to aspire to. Low wages, late fees, sexist inequalities - there seems to be a lot to work on here, a lot of opportunity for change and reform. But, to her credit, she is making the best of it.

Hulan was an amazing host, she took us around all of the ‘must-see’ places in Ulaanbaatar. We walked the halls of the National museum, spending time looking at pottery and weapons from the time of the great conquest. We ate at local vegetarian and vegan restaurants, the food reminding us more of home than any other city we had been. We also went to the Dinosaur museum, which is housed inside the former Lenin Museum. Many fossilized bones and eggs have been found around the the Gobi desert area, spectacularly preserved under the shifting sands and layers of rock. In fact, Mongolia has a rich treasury of dinosaur remains and these are among some of the finest in the world.

Traditionally, Mongols practiced Shamanism, worshipping the Sky Father and the Earth Mother. However, Tibetan Buddhism gained more popularity after it was introduced in the 16th century. I have read that this popularity was attributed to an attempt to change the warring ways of the people after many centuries of bloodshed and domination, but, I’m not sure how true that is. Looking at the city today, you wouldn't guess buddhism had such an influence. Many of the temples were destroyed in modern history, however one of the main centres remains, the perfect example of the old surrounded by the new. The Choijin Lama temple consists of 6 temples, originally the site of Luvsankhaidav’s powerful oracle rights. The house of the wrath of the deities was my favourite, an elaborately decorated room that was once only accessible to high ranking Lama’s and men of power. Its walls were covered in ritual dance masks, graphic paintings of demons and hand embroidered fabrics.

On our last afternoon in the city, the temperatures started to drop well below zero. It’s the kind of cold where the bones in your face hurt and no layers are enough. We figured it would be a good precursor to the cold of the Mongolian wilderness and tried to suppress our fear - especially in front of Hulan, who casually talks about winters of -45 Degrees. We shared onion rings and beers at a local bar, chatting happily below an impressive mural reminiscent of Queen Amidala (so obviously inspired by the traditional costume of the mongolian people).

The next morning we had our bags packed, ready to leave the city behind in search of the nomadic life, wild horses and sweeping mongolian plains.