The two border guards stand looking completely unamused by our increasingly frantic gesticulations.
One of them smirks, he points to the road and then to his chest.
“That may be so, ” he seems to say “but this is my road. Now you are in my country.”
I can’t blame him. We aren’t really supposed to be there. We’d surprised him, I’m sure he’s been told that there would be no-one crossing today. I bet no-one thought to tell the guys on the tarmac that three bedraggled tourists had been given special permission to pedal through the closed border today.
***
Rewind 24 hours and we are standing before another set of camouflaged border guards, Kazakh ones this time, giving us similarly belligerent looks.
We are on the tarmac, in front of the brand new border crossing at Khorgos, between Kazakhstan and China. We are there on the last day of the four day Chinese holiday which had closed the border and know we can’t get through till the following day. But because the border crossing had changed location over the holiday we are here to scope it out.
We’d cycled from Zharkent with a friend, Tine. Tine had gone on a recce to the old place the day before and been instructed to come here.
The border guards we are now talking to are waving us off. Tomorrow is the opening ceremony, they explain, but the border is closed for crossing until the 7th October – 10 days away.
Uh-oh….
The thing is, we have till midnight tomorrow to enter China, before our visa expires.
We look around at the queue of lorries waiting to enter China and decide to come back the next day anyway.
So early the next morning we turn up again. More lorries and a bus full of tourists have arrived overnight.
The same guard blocks our path – he’s standing by some freshly installed barriers, still incased in bubble wrap.
No, no, no. It’s closed til the 7th.
Go away.
Go to the other border, 250km away. He points in out on the map.
We talk to some of the kids from the tour bus. They’ve been told the same, but they haven’t moved. The driver isn’t convinced that they won’t get through later.
We decide to wait for a while.
One by one each guard, and a few randoms, come over and try to explain the situation to us. We understand the situation, but we are not convinced by their words.
The border they want us to use is only for Chinese and Kazakh nationals, the internet tells us.
We wait.
As the day advances more and more cars roll up. Some are ushered through, I guess they are here for the opening ceremony. Others are sent away.
Some join our growing band of loiterers.
We notice raised voices at the tour bus. We’ve been chatting to one of the young women on the bus, she’s Russian and heading to Urumqi for a flight tomorrow. We wander over to see what’s happening
There are two well dressed men in suits. One of them repeats to us that this border is closed and to go to the other border. I start to talk to his friend, who’s English is excellent. He explains they work for border control, his friend is quite important I gather.
I ask whether they can be sure that they will let us through, as non-nationals. He says they will.
I explain that I read on the internet that this border is only for Kazakh and Chinese nationals. He finally understands. He interrupts his colleague who is talking heatedly with Tine and explains… “ah… actually we don’t know”. They look a little sheepish.
I grasp the opportunity and tell him that today our visa expires. We must go through today.
They’ve come for the opening ceremony. They promise to see what they can do. “I am very important, but even I could not cross today” one of them says, but promises to ask anyway. One takes my number and assures me he will message me shortly, when they get to the actual customs building.
Our waiting has purpose now.
Occasionally the guards come and explain again that we have to go, they really believe that they are trying to help and I try to explain the situation. They just repeat what they’ve been told.
A get a message from my new friend.
“Don’t worry”, he says, “trying to figure it out”
We wait.
In the meantime, a new guard comes and, politely, asks us to move further back down beside the parked bus. He’s pleasant so we do, though I suspect it is so as not to disturb the dignitaries who are about to arrive.
In time they do, speeding past us. The uniformed guards standing at attention, saluting, bubble-wrapped barriers open.
During this time my friends Sue and Julia have been travelling towards us on a bus from Almaty, booked to go to Urumqi. We had originally intended to take this bus too but when I showed the lady at the bus station in Almaty our visa date she had refused to sell us a ticket believing we wouldn’t get in, I suppose.
I get occasional updates on their location, from which we try to work out if their driver has better information than us. He doesn’t. They arrive eventually and the bus waits too.
For a moment it looks like it is going to turn around and leave, we have a momentary panic, should we go with them?
I send a message to my friend.
No reply.
We decide to go.
We manage to pack the three bikes and panniers in to the bus with a bit of jiggery-pokery. We board the bus and are directed to the back.
The bus is amazing. Each side is flanked with bunk beds.
The back is a 8 person bunk bed, four on top, four on the bottom.
We get the bottom bunk, it’s a little claustrophobic.
I finally get a response from my man inside.
“You’d better stay here”, he says. “They all know you are coming. The ceremony is almost over.”
Ah.
Off we get again, unpacking the bikes and the bags.
It turns out the bus is in no hurry, and some of the other passengers disembark too.
Time ticks by.
My man calls.
He says that in half an hour someone will come out and invite us through. Just us, he says.
We wait
Eventually there’s a bit of commotion round the guards. People are crowding and shouting. He is there, with his very important colleague. He’s trying to explain and placate the crowd, who look a little like they might riot.
He comes over and tells us we can go. Just us, he says apologetically. He’s seen Sue and Julia.
“What will you do?” He asks. Julia shrugs, “go to the other border I guess”.
“I don’t think they will let you through”, he concedes.
We leave them discussing, and roll towards the border before someone changes their mind. The border guard who had adamantly shooed us away earlier gives me a smile which is part impressed and part baffled. I suspect, if I could have understood him, he may have implied something I don’t think I would have liked to hear.
The new border is glossy and spotless. When we get in the building we are surrounded by staff, keen to be involved in ushering the first tourists through the border. Once we’re through men in large hats want to pose in pictures with us, we’ve made history, they tell us proudly.
They send us out, waving and smiling, towards China.
We can’t believe it’s actually worked.
But as we roll across the tarmac we surprise two border guards as we appeared from nowhere.
After some bravado, and forcing us to back up to a line we couldn’t see, one of them races off to find out what is going on. We see him jump on a bike and whizz away. Shortly he returns and confers with his mate. They shake their heads.
I check my phone.
My guy has texted. “Everything ok?”
I update him.
“Everything good with the Kazakh side?” He asks.
“Yes”, I reply a little irritated, “but do the Chinese side know we are coming?”
“We told them”, he says, “but things can change quickly”.
I get the impression there’s no more he can do.
A car drives up, from the Chinese side. A man in a suit talks to the guards. He seems too outrank the guards and they let us go on.
We’re stopped more times on the way to the customs building. We explain ourselves again. Clearly the police in China don’t ever assume that this is someone else’s problem. Once more the guy in the car comes to our aid.
Once inside everything is ok, though the building is silent. Apart from a few staff we seem to be the only ones inside.
Our bodies, bikes and bags are scanned, fingerprints and photographs taken, bags scanned again and then we are free.
Suddenly, surprisingly at liberty in China, with only a few hours left before our visa expires.
We’re utterly shell shocked.
It’s always an adventure.
***
We hear a few days later that everyone else waiting at the border that day were also allowed through, but that they closed the border again immediately afterwards. The alternative border we were being diverted to does not allow foreigners through.
We’re utterly grateful to the officials who arranged for us to use the new border crossing.