It started on Monday. It was faint so I dismissed it. But the pain kept nagging me, slowly convincing my brain that my tooth wasn't playing a pre-travel hypochondriac stunt on me.
So this morning, worried by pictures of forceps and anasthetising vodka if I put this off for longer, I braced myself against pain and financial loss and walked through the dentist's door. A wonderfully poker faced woman in a very white room prodded, x-rayed and diagnosed me: "You have baby teeth." That sounded endearing and for a split second the terrifying pictures of forceps disappeared. Too early. "You need very complicated surgery" the dentist added matter of factly. I explained to her about my journey and she agreed I should wait until my return. But she had a bit more to add. "I too travelled to Beijing last year, I was mugged and all my possessions were taken including passport and money so you should be careful." Although none of this was news I was hoping to receive a day before hopping on a train for days on end she did give me a little bit of encouragement: other than the unfortunately painful offender I have exceptionally strong teeth. I am going to cling to this piece of knowledge because on the brink of travelling solo for the first time in my life it is soothing to know that at least one part of me has been defined strong by expert opinion.
This journey still doesn't feel real, maybe because of the means of travel. Normally when we travel outside our comfort zones the voyage starts with a flight. It’s a clear space in between our real mundane selves at home and the inquisitive and excitable traveler waiting to be let loose. It gives us just enough time to change our winter boots to flip flops, add a few bracelets, skim through Lonely Planet and watch a film. My flight was two and half hours and it took me to Comfort Zone Central. Let's face it for me Finland isn't exactly living on the edge. Most people I know here have known me for 15 years or more. In the last few days I have been locked in the most wonderful heart to heart conversations about life's greatest fears, childhood bruises and the Eurovision song contest.
But tomorrow at 5am I leave for St Petersburg. Strictly speaking it’s not part of the Trans-Mongolian route but it’s a five hour journey on the train and a border I have never crossed. St Pete is home to some of the world's most amazing art and history as well as being the childhood stomping ground of Russia's newly elected president. For me it has been a dream destination since a highly geeky teenager when my imagination was captured by the Russian revolution and the times before and after.
While in St Petersburg, I will be staying with Rima and Sarkhan, the parents of a friend's friend who have incredibly generously agreed to adopt me for the three days I'm in the city. I have never met them and don't know much more except that they don't speak English. I have some phrases in my guide book but better still a generally happy face and rather long arms for wafting around expressively so I’m sure we’ll be fine.
I’ll tell you soon, next time I’ll be writing I’m guessing will be on the train to Irkutsk. Just one more thing. In Mongolia the night temperatures at the moment go down to -35. Bring it on, it’s all okay, I have strong teeth, you see.
