Many years ago, Torb and I decided to celebrate our retirements by travelling the iconic Trans-Siberian Railway, by train, obviously, but not just any train. We went by the luxurious Golden Eagle. This was not just a train trip but a whole immersive travel experience. There were tour managers and guest speakers on history, geography and politics. And apart from the first two days, when we travelled north from Vladivostok- nothing much to see for this part of the journey- there were off-train excursions every day with local guides.
There is something about train travel which really gets you in. You can watch the scenery hurtle past all day, relax with a drink in the lounge, chat with fellow passengers and if they annoy you too much, retreat to the privacy of your sleeper cabin, complete with a small but serviceable ensuite.
On this trip, there was a National Geographic group on board. Their celebrity guest was none other than Tim Fischer, previously our deputy prime minister. Tim was blessed with an insatiable desire for knowledge about almost everything, but particularly all things travel. He could happily share his knowledge of the Trans-Siberian train tracks, the history of their construction, and details of their specifications. In a casual chat, he found out Torb was an airport engineer. His eyes widened, and then each breakfast he would join us and interrogate Torb about airports-construction of runways and aprons, airport operations, terminals- anything airport-related. The first day he noted Torb’s answers on his napkin and no doubt took it back to his cabin, carefully folded and stored it to take home. Day 2 he came equipped with a notebook.
After a few days of this I found myself whispering to Torb ‘Can we please not have breakfast with Tim Fischer?’ We varied our breakfast times to discourage him.
Regardless of this, we were hooked on rail travel.
This route included a short detour into Mongolia. There we ate homemade yoghurt in a yurt, listened to Mongolian throat singers, observed falconers working their birds and I rode a Mongolian horse. I thought introductions were in order when I met my sturdy little mount. I stroked his nose-no reaction. I ran my hand down his neck to his shoulder-he ignored me. I asked our Mongolian guide, ‘What’s his name?’ The guide looked momentarily confused.
‘The horse, I mean, what’s his name?’ He thought for a d few seconds. ‘2010 brown.’
Now it was my turn to look confused, until it clicked. These horses didn’t have individual names. They were identified by the year of their birth and their colour. They were the equivalent of a tractor on an Australian farm. They were not coddled, not stroked, not talked to. They were bred for a purpose and they fulfilled that role. There was no sentiment about it, and the horses certainly didn’t seem to feel any. Unlike my fellow horse riding train travellers, I managed to persuade my horse out of a walk into a trot and then a short canter.
‘Horse lady,’ cheered the Mongolians.
On the way back to the train, we passed a statue of Genghis Khan on a horse. Despite Mongolians and their horses being short of stature, this was enormous, just like Khan’s influence on the world in the 13th century. At one point he was thought to have controlled 8% of the entire world’s area, and this grew under his sons and grandsons.
Of course, the Silk Road was operating long before Genghis Khan and his successors came along. It is not a single road but a network of routes that originated in 200BC and connected the east and the west. It is known as the ‘Silk’ Road because it saw the transportation of silk from the East. It is about 6,500 kilometres in length and spans 40 countries. It is considered to have started in Xian, China and ended in Turkey, Italy or Egypt, depending on the specific route. Many other goods were carried, including gold, spices, tea, horses, and furs. And also, ideas, for instance, Buddhism. From Torb’s point of view he is interested in the route as a conduit for scientific knowledge- mathematics, astronomy, medicine and technology. It is also considered responsible for the spread of the bubonic plague in the 14th century, with infected fleas and rodents travelling in merchant caravans. It is unlikely that people travelled the full distance but carried goods to waypoints and handed them over to others to take them the next step of the journey.
The control of Genghis Khan and his successors heralded the most stable period for the route. His control of the Eurasian landmass enabled unprecedented safety and signalled an early move towards globalisation. This period was known as the Pax Mongolica (Mongol Peace), and the Khans imposed strict controls to reduce banditry and lowered taxes, thereby encouraging trade. They also instituted a highly efficient postal and relay system, enabling merchants, messengers, and diplomats to travel safely and rapidly. As with his approach to warfare, Genghis Khan’s approach to the Silk Road was testament to his strategic approach to all his endeavours.
Interestingly, his 4 sons were his ‘official’ children with his primary wife Borte. He also had several daughters with her, but many other children with secondary wives and concubines. Genetic studies suggest he has about 16 million male descendants worldwide.
So, as I contemplated the statue of Genghis Khan, my mind drifted back to 2010 Brown. Was this little horse a direct descendant of the horses Genghis Khan and his armies rode? Even today Mongolian horses are renowned for endurance over long distances. Was I, just for a moment, sitting in the saddle with the Mongolian hordes.
My mind drifts further. The thrum of the tracks, the train. The Silk Road, ancient mysteries to unravel. Could I resist?
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