The City Nomads


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Asia » Mongolia
June 18th 2006
Saved: December 4th 2008
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800 Years ago a man named Temujin united the tribes that inhabited what we know call Mongolia, Temujin became known as Chinngis Khan. Under his command these tribes spread out, invaded their neighbours and conquered the continent on horseback... the Mongolian Empire was the largest that the world has ever seen. But of course, all things must come to an end and in subsequent centuries the Mongols were beaten back for Mongolia to spend centuries in obscurity and to be ruled by the chinese and more recently to sit firmly under the thumb of the Soviet Union. Mongolia, one of those countries that seems like it exists in a parallel universe. A place where people still live a nomadic existence, even the capital city was nomadic and moved from place to place until last century. It was a place I'd always wanted to go to... I was finally here.

Ulaanbaatar (Red Hero)


Mongolia's capital is not what you would call an inviting place, it is tolerable at best. It was clear from the start that this was like no place I had ever seen before... maybe it was the cows standing around outside the airport, I'm not sure. For the
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Sukhbaatar Square
first time in my life I saw my name written on a board as I came into the arrivals hall, this made me feel important (for a moment). I had booked a group tour around Mongolia, I really wanted to see this county and with public transport practically non-existent outside of UB it was pretty much the best option. I was driven through the delapidated suburbs, past where the river used to be before it dried up and through countless smokestacks pumping out the factory waste which causes the constant haze which lingers above the city, we eventually reached the UB Guesthouse, situated in a run down Panelak block in the city centre. I had to meet the people I would travel with that evening, I had time for a walk around... down to the imennse Sukhbaatar Square where there always seems to be some kind of celebration going on and onto the scrappy Peace Avenue, one of UB's nicer streets, where you can get European food and bump into other backpackers. I was in Asia but I may as well have been in Eastern Europe, the Soviet influence here is unavoidable. From the concrete blocks to the paving stones
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Peace Avenue
that seem to be in every formerly communist capital, UB was completely at odds to what I'd heard and expected of Mongolia.

Back at the UB guesthouse we had an introduction meeting for our tour and I got to meet the people who's pockets I'd be living in for the next 3 weeks:

The Staff
Jess - Our Tour leader from Devon who has been travelling on or off now for 11 years. An amazing woman who's job it was to be on duty 24 hours a day not just for our tour but for 3 subsequent ones with only 3 days off in-between... a woman with an amazing amount of stamina and tolerance.
B2 - Trainee Tour Leader, amazingly arrogant and selfish Indian guy who had good stories to tell and cooked a fantastic curry.
Khaleouna - Our Mongolian Assistant Tour Leader and 'interpreter'. She earned her inverted commas on account that she hardly spoke English and was about as standoffish as you can get. She was nice enough once you spoke to her for a bit.

The Guests
Alex - Friendly and funny office worker in his forties from Miami.
Audrey - Amazingly positive and
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Summer Rain Goes Down Well Here
energetic 78 year old from British Colombia, probably the toughest and most motivated member of the group.
Clemens & Grazia - Couple from North London who I got to like a lot. Clemens a 30 year old Graphic Designer originally from Munich and Grazia a 27 year old Photographer and Waitress originally from Italy.
Cory & Michelle - Couple in their early thirties from Vancouver, Cory a computer programmer and environmentalist hiker and Michelle an admin clerk.
Emer - Annoying teacher from Ireland in her thirties who I tried my best to stay away from.
Jan and Vibicka - Super friendly Danish couple who had been together since they were at school 10 years ago. Jan, a Primary school teacher and Vibicka, a psychology student, had been backpacking for the past 8 months.
Joe & Emily - The people I got on with best on the trip. Joe, from Nottingham, and Emily, from Brighton, had met whist teaching in Japan and had lived together in Australia for the past year.
Pat, Winnie & Lily - Middle aged hikers from Vancouver. Always interesting and funny.
Peter - Arrogant and annoying middle aged Kiwi businessman who was actually very nice and interesting
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From the Outside
when he wasn't talking shite.
Steven - 25 year old Belgian who chucked in his social services job to travel indefintiely. My tent-mate for the trip.

The Drivers
Tura - Had driven around Mongolia so many times he had no trouble navigating the "roads" which are essentially vague marks in the ground.
Gamba - Quiet yet obviously caring and friedly guy who had previously been herding animals in the countryside.
Bold An older guy who drives to support a wife and 5 kids. Always spoke as if he was angry and shouting but had a smile which showed how nice he really was.
Baikal 25 year old Law Graduate and obvious boy racer who would have fitted in well outside any McDonalds in the UK.

And so the story begins...

We had another day in UB until we set off on our adventure, it was at this point I realised that I was totally unprepared. Maybe it was the fact that there was snow falling from the sky intermittently, maybe it was the driving rain which floded the streets but something was telling me that I was a little naive in thinking that even in summer Mongolia
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On the Edge of the Gobi
would have good weather... there's a saying here that you should expect to experience all four seasons in one day. Well, thanks for the State Department Store, a place to buy all the counterfiet goods you need (yes, it is a geniune enterprise... just full of dodgy gear). A great place to buy the combat trousers and waterproofs I would evidently need. However, it also occurred to me that I may be unprepared mentally... it would be like Big Brother Mongolia, 18 days shoulder to shoulder with people I'd never met before. It hit me how intense it could very well be. Oh well... in at the deep end I suppose, I should have considered it all before. So, I spent my day in UB running around in the pouring rain and snow watching the streets grind to a halt as the water came above ankle height and the temperature drop towards freezing point. Ocassionaly I would bump into someone else on my tour, we would joke about the weather but inside we were all as terrifed as each other that it would persist for the next few days ... camping would be a lot of fun is such conditions
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Your Average Mongolian Road
eh? I had a lot to do and the weather wasn't helping, my mood wasn't great either. UB is a pretty grim city at the best of times, I couldn't even imagine how horrible it must be in winter when the temperature can drop to -40c. Eventually, I got to hole myself up in the relative comfort of the guesthouse, only to emerge to give some chocholate to the street kids who came begging at the door... these are kids who have really been dealt a crappy hand in life, homeless and orphaned or abandoned in one of the world's most hostile climates. They live in a city that cares little about them, where they are left to live in the sewage system with little opportunity to better themselves. Pete told me the next day how he had grabbed one by the scruff of the neck and kicked them out of the block... I had assumed that anyone who decided to travel around Mongolia would have a similar point of view on life to me... then again, assumption is always a mistake.

Morning came and we were up early, the snow had stopped but rain and biting cold persisted,
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Transportation
I know I'm being terribly English in going on about the weather... but after all it was summer!! We split off randomly into the waiting vans, off on a trip with complete strangers, strangers who would get to know each other very well under extraordinary conditions. The small talk started, I was in Baikal's van with Peter, Steven, Jan and Vibika. We rolled on out through the suburbs and onto the Steppe which stretches, in some form or another, all the way to Hungary. We stopped outside UB, a chance to look back on the mess of concrete, pollution and misery which calls itself the capital of Mongolia... we drove through the rolling hills, the tarmac had already ran out and we were literally driving trhough the hills. Land is not generally owned as the poulation is Nomadic, there are no fences or private property signs, the world is your road in Mongolia. The temperature was below zero, we bundled out to worship at an Oovus, a Shamanist pile of stones which you walk around three times in a colockwise direction and make a wish... it's good luck for journeys of this kind. We all hopped round, chucked on our offering (a stone) and ran back into the relative warmth of the vans. Soon enough the Steppeland gave way to desert, the temperature rose and we were in the Gobi.

The Gobi Desert


When we stopped for lunch after a few hours we were all a little more optimistic. Out bodies acknowledged the fact that sitting for several hours, driving on roads which weren't really roads would take some getting used to but the sun was out, and the food looked good. We had all pretty much expected to be eating mutton and noodles 3 times a day but our tour leader had done us proud, lunch was fresh salad, fresh bread and feta cheese. Of course, we couldn't expect to eat like this every day but it was nice for the start. Lunch was somewhat spoiled by a sandstorm, the weather was still pretty wild and we divided our time between turning our backs to the wind and picking sand out of our feta, this would really take a lot of getting used to. A local man seemed to come out of nowhere on his motorbike to join us for lunch... I guess this is how things go
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Middle Gobi
in the Mongolian countyside, there's so few people that you just stop and chat to whoever you do see.

We only saw one other vehicle all day.

We set off for another long drive across the flat and barren Gobi. We came across a town in the middle of nowhere, probably 4 hours at least to the next settlement. It doesn't even bear thinking about what life must be like here compared to where I was brough up in London. At about 6pm we eventually stopped at Baga Gazrin Chuluu (Beautiful Place) for our nights camping. 10 hours on the road in our first day and we were tired and battered by the bumps. The work had not stopped though, we set about on what would become our daily routine of pitching all the tents, firing up the stoves and preparing dinner and digging the toilet holes (can you believe they don't have public lavatories out here??). It was dark by the time our mutton spagetti bolognase was ready and we all pretty much dropped into bed before 10, hoping we would get used to this, even the simple act of sitting in the van was exhausting because
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Jan & Vibicka
of the state of the terrain.

Day 2 in Big Brother Gobi... it's a very early start and Andy and Steve are out of bed just in time to pack up and stuff some bread in their mouths before the scheduled departure time, Winnie says 'good afternoon' to me in what will become her daily greeting. We load into the same vans that we were in the day before for our longest day's driving on the whole trip. The group 100%!a(MISSING)greed that the drivers were superhuman in order to deal with these conditions and still have a smile and a joke at the end of the day. We drove across the Gobi in what was a bitter cold morning, watchin the sandstorms occur in the distance, before long we stopped at a provincial capital called Mandalgov (Middle Gobi) to get some supplies. Alone in the middle of the desert I was amazed that there was any life here at all but it seemed to be a fully functioning yet small place, even with taxis... one of the shops was selling a Tower Bridge London ashtray! We all walked around a little, a group of teenage girls waved and flirted with us, people just generally waved and said hello. This was the novelty which eventually came to be expected... simply being a westerner in Mongolia seems to make you a celebrity, everyone wants to say hello to you. Before long we got back in the van and continue with our journey. Today was a 13 1/2 hour drive which was an endurance test. Baikal was a bit of a boy racer and liked to race the other drivers who, most of the time, left him to play the game on his own. It was fun for a while but when we jumped over a hill and hit a bump on the other side and nearly toppled over it became a bit more serious, we all tensed up and braced ourselves for a crash, taking a little while to recover... Baikal simply laughed and said sorry. Travelling with Peter was also quite intense. Jan, Vibika and Steven were all nice and easy going. Peter on the other hand was something else. Despite being in his fifties, he still felt he had to spend his time impressing people and making stuff up. There was nothing that he couldn't do or hadn't
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The Vulture's Mouth
done and at one point in the trip we even started making a list of his rediculous claims ("I could take down a bull" was probably my favourite). He had a super expensive camera which he had to show off at every given oppurtunity and managed to take well over 1000 photos of everything and anything. He was annoying at first... I wondered how I would cope but then I just learned to laugh at him and take everything with a pinch of salt and he became bearable. It's a shame though as he was a nice guy deep down, he just felt the need to mark himself as superior all the time and couldn't accept that there was anything he didn't know about.

Come to think of it, there's too many people like that in this life.

I managed to get a little bit of dozing in during the afternoon, the sun was out again and the head became incredibly intense. Baikal pulled up to a motorbike parked in the middle of knowhere, concerned that the 2 guys with it may have broken down. As it happens they were just getting drunk and invited us for some
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Jess and Khaleouna
vodka. This was my first experience of Mongolian hospitality, the selfless sharing attitude that people have here, we sipped a little vodka and listened to the the 2 drunk guys speak to us in a language we didn't understand before we all continued with our respective journeys. Long hours spent until we arrived at dusk to Yolyn Am (Vulture's Mouth), the sight of a year round glacier. A quick dinner of pot noodle and scrambled and the vodka came out, it was Baikal's birthday. We all learned how to drink the Mongolian way, Shamanism is prominent here and dipping your ring finger into the drink and sprinkiling vodaka towards the Earth, the Sky and the Spirits is necessary before you drink. Some stayed up late for a party, most collapsed into bed exhausted.

We could all relax a little the next day, a short drive ahead meant we had time to hike down to the glacier in the morning. It was pretty amazing to walk on solid ice in the middle of the Gobi desert, it also gave some moments for relaxation and getting to know some other members of the group. I chatted with Joe, a guy who
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The Approaching Sandstorms
I had a lot in common with and would become a good friend during the trip. Luckily, we all got in new vans today which gave room for new conversation as I got to know Alex and Audrey a bit more. Alex was the kind of guy to crack jokes constantly yet could be totally serious, Audrey was just an inspiration. She had originally booked to come on a house building volunteer programme which had been cancelled so was joining us for the most of our tour. Talking to her, someone the same age as my grandmother, it was hard to think of any other 78 year old with so much energy and passion for life. She could get along with anyone and was about as interesting a person you could meet. Our short drive south today was interrupted by a stop to fill up with water from a well in a small village. As we stopped off the whole celebrity thing happened again... news that tourists were in town got about and suddenly about 20 kids had come out to greet us. We moved on and set up camp at Ur Bayandali with enough time to climb up hills
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Mongolian Kid Collecting Water
and play some football once the tents were up. It was fantastic to have a relatively restful day, to restore the energy levels. I climbed up a set or rocks alone and admired the silence, something that I had never experienced before this trip... complete and utter silence, nothing. It's very scary.

The next day we headed off to Khongorin Els, the so called singing sand dunes. I jumped in a bus with Joe, Emily, Audrey and Steve and we entertained ourselves on the short journey playing word games and discussing politics (don't we sound intelligent?). The Sand dunes are immense, the Gobi is only 3% sand and this is where it all seems to be. We pitched our tents by a family who had a Ger for us to use. A Ger is basicaly the large round homes that Nomadic Mongols live in, easily put up and taken down and have enough insulation to keep the family warm through the cold winters. Luckily, they also keep you cool in the heat so we all retired here for lunch and chilled out for a while. We were having goat for supper tonight and had bought a live one from
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The Kids Came Out to See the Tourists
the family we were camping by. I decided that as a meat eater I should see the killing and skinning in order to confront the reality of eating meat as before I suppose I have rarely looked past the connection between live animals and the nice meal which comes ready cleaned and packaged from Tesco. The drivers made an incision in the goat's chest and squeezed out it's heart which killed it immeditately, this is apparently the most humane way to kill an animal. Mobgolians live alongside their animals but need them to survive, killing them is a necessity but they do it with the animal's feelings in mind. Baikal then proceeded to skin the goat. I had watched up until this point okay but when they cut open it's belly to reveal the intestines, a horrible smell filled the Ger and stuff started to fall out of the goat's back passage. I decided it was time to get some fresh air.

Before dinner we went on a camel ride which was actually really boring. Joe and I raced each other but both had lazy camels which wouldn't respond to instructions so pretty much ended up walking slowly. Towards
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The Goat
the end of the camel trek Winnie's camel went crazy and threw her off, kicking her in the head a couple of times before charging away. She's a pretty tough woman, a few hours later she was hiking up the sand dunes.

Dinner was horrible. It tasted okay but having seen the goat die I did not want to eat it one little bit. It was cooked the traditional Mongolian way: hot stones are inserted into the body and laid around it's outside to cook it from both inside and out. Before dinner the stones are passed around and tossed from hand to hand. A soup was also made and passed around the Ger for everyone to take a sip. It gave a slight sense of community to be sharing food in such a way. The complete lack of sanitation and the lifestyle of this trip meant that hygene was pretty much out the window. None of us got ill apart from Clemens once, it made me think about how neurotic and exaggerated hygene is back home... surely that's why so many people get ill when they go abroad. Because hygene levels are so rediclously high back home.
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Camel Riding in the Gobi

After dinner a few of us climbed up to the sand dunes. We all gave up half way up as the sun had already set and the gradient was so steep and sand so soft that you only moved forwad one pace with every five steps. Instead we all settled down and drank vodka under the remarkable night sky, no light pollution to occlude the stars in their full glory. Jess, B2, Joe, Emily, Emer, Steve, Alex and I sang and chatted until it was very dark and we realised we didn't actually know where the camp was. We headed back, vaguely confident we were heading in the right direction but not really knowing. After a while we saw the lights of a van, a very drunk Tura and Gamba had come to rescue us and loaded us all in only to get us all out to push the van out of a sand ditch and then to repeat the process 3 times before eventually delivering us home.

And that was our last night in the Gobi... one more place to visit before we go though. There's a town called Bulgan which has apparently the most inhospitable climate in
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The Vans and the Desert
Mongolia. A man called Pol had managed to grow vegetables there and we visited him for lunch. Whilst we were intrigued it soon became clear that he was less of an interesting man and more of a business man when he came in and gave us a load of press cuttings about how fantastic he was before dissapearing, leaving some children to serve us lunch (with no vegetables I may add). He only re-appeared to answer some questions before we left which Khaleouna kind of interpreted using phrases like "he grows with the sh*t of the chicken" At one point Pol ignored a question and asked Jess when she would be coming with another group. A true businessman eh?

The Onghi River and Khogno Khan


We headed towards Khogno Khan, a beauty spot just off the main tarmac highway that runs west from UB. It was a long drive away, a very long and hot and dusty and tiring and long drive which was broken up by a night by the Onghi River. I shared a van with Joe, Emily, Grazia and Clemens which seemed to be the main group of people I was starting to hang around with.
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Valley and Approaching Storm
On the way we stopped off at a rock where dinosoar fossils have been found. We walked around, got bored and went into the shade to hide from the incredibly intense heat. Our departure was slightly delayed by Peter dragging a load of people over to what he claimed was indisputable eveidence that the dinosoars had been made extinct by meteor (seriously...) and then we were off on our way.

As it happens, there was no Onghi River where we had hoped, illegal gold mining further up stream had altered the river's flow and left us with a little trickle of water down here. It didn't matter to any of us too much though, we were not camping tonight as we'd arranged to stay in a Tourist Ger camp with showers (allbeit cold) and a bar. So, it was nice even though the bar ran out of beer after an hour. We could all relax a little after a long day's driving and the vodka was flowing as was the snuff. Our friend Steven from Leuven always had a box of snuff and had gotten many of us taking it now again throughout the trip. I took an early
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Pub in the Middle of Nowhere
night, to enjoy being in a proper bed and left the hardcore few singing and drinking. After my shave, shower and proper night's sleep I felt great, I think a lot of the others were just incredibly hungover. Another long drive north was the order of the day and I was in with Joe, Emily, Audrey and Pete. We started off the day all serious as Joe and I talked about ourselves and got to know quite a bit about each other. We stopped off in the morning at a ruined monestary called Onghin Khid which was among the many Buddhist sites that was destroyed with the advent of communism in the region. The Mongolians were particularly fierce with this though as often the monks were still inside when the monestaries were destroyed. We drove on through beautufil scenery, too amazing to even begin to describe, a photo would never do any of it justice. We'd been told that there was 500bn gallions of oil in this region, surely it will inevitably follow that the oil companies will move in. Whilst this may benefit some people and the country's enonomy it seems devestating to think that such a perfect landscape
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Container Market
could soon become oil fields. It occurred to me how much input the USA has in this country, all the aid, development, charitable organisations here seem to be from that direction... does it take a genius to work out why? Aside from the obvious strategically important position of the country between Russia and China... there's black gold and three guesses where it will be heading? A depressing thought I suppose.

As the day progressed our behaviour deteriourated. So long in a hot and dusty van can do silly things and Joe, Emily and I regressed into children, insulting each other's mums, and not saying a serious word for several hours. It was a far cry from our serious conversations of the morning. We apologised to Audrey later in the day, she simpy said she enjoyed it... that she loved immaturity. Personally I blame it on chocholate and biscuits. Every shop in Mongolia seems to only sell about 12 different items, the foodstuffs being biscuits and chocholate. Through boredom you snack on these all day... in turn they affect your behaviour (and of course your health. At last, evening drew close and we arrived at Khogno Khan, a beautiful spot
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Pool Club at the Container Market
in the valleys. We stayed here two nights and the next day was perfect for a lie in and chill out with a book. I also got to do some washing but seeing as the nearest launderette was about 350km away I had to hand wash in cold water which basically meant that I just got my clothes wet without actually getting them clean... at least we were all in the same boat. Being as lucky as we all are, the heavens decided to open that afternoon and an icy rain fell. I climbed a slippery mountain with Joe and Emily in the afternoon whilst Khaleouna and drivers got drunk and the rest of the group hiked around various places. A couple were lucky enough to be invited into local Gers for tea and yogurt (yes, that's Mongolian hostitality again). I think I was getting Ger envy as it never happened to me. Joe and I cooked dinner but conflicted with the drivers who are very protective over their rice. We never quite understood why but they would never let anyone cook rice, they always had to do it. Now and again Joe and I would take the lid off
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Yes, there was actually water in this one!
to check it only be verbally assaulted by a drunk Mongolian getting protective over their rice.

We cooked some great food though.

Kharkhorin & Tsetserleg


Another early start. The rain had fallen heavily during the night, we were all feeling damp and miserable. The journey mostly involved trying to stay awake and drying yesterday's washed clothes out of the window. We stopped in the city of Kharkhorin, the ancient capital of Mongolia. Here there is a restaurant, although I use the term restaurant very loosely indeed. We went in early to order our food, leaving the staff time to bring out some tables and go to the market to buy our dinner. This gave us time to explore the city, the dusty place, it's stray dogs and curious inhabitants. We headed for the container market, a place to stock up on such luxuries as Coca-Cola, Pringles and the Coconut Sweets that the group had all become addicted to. The container markets, whilst normal in this part of the world were intriguing to a group of semi-ignorant westerners such as ourselves, essentiall a parade of shipping containers selling life's basics from their insides, an ad-hoc pool club and a
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These Vans Will Go Over (Almost) Anything
place where men go to sit and watch the world go by. Time soon came to go off and enjoy one of the staple Mongolian dishes Soyavan (Mutton and Flour Noodles) and then to the Kharkhorin Temple. Now, don't ask me why but temples have never rocked my world. I just don't have an interest in them. Whilst I love to know about the human history of a place, it's politics, demographics and all about it's people, I just can't get excited about religious symbols. So, that is that and I mooched around looking at the building and admiring some nice architecure, which somehow managed to come through communism unscaved, whilst most of the group listened (or tired to listen) to the local guide who recited an english commentary (very badly... it was obvious she spoke no english as she ignored all the questions that were asked and carried on with her commentry with a flustered look in her face). We wandered around and looked in the overpriced shop, they get a relatively high amount of tourists in this place, the locals know how to get their money... even charging $5 for the privaledge of taking photos. A local man
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Beautiful Gorge
outside who is dressed as Chinngis Khan also gets in on the act by posing for photos with you before charging you a little fee.

Back in the vans we all felt suitable refreshed we headed off. I was travelling with Khaleouna, Cory, Michelle and Audrey. We listened to Audrey's amazing stories of her life. In brief, as I would not want to give away someone's entire life story for free, she had lived like so: Born and raised in the USA she was always a liberal and a traveller. In her twenties her and her friend drove around the entire US, stopping off and working as waitresses along the way until they finally settled in San Francisco which most suited their moods. By her thirties she was enjoying the hippy movement and was married with 2 sons and opted to move to Canada, deciding that the way the US acted in the Vietnam war demonstrated it was not a country she wished to raise children in. Since then she odopted a Native Canadian daughter and has since lived a life full of various interests, personal enterprise and charity. Now in her late 70s she is full of life
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Shamanistic Worship at the Ovoos
and regularly travels overseas to do voluntary work. Everything about this lady was inspiring, I wish I had her amount of energy and enthusiasm for life now, let alone when I'm old. The fact that she had a fantastic sense of humour, a cuttling and intelligent sarcasm and could mix in with groups of any age added to her appeal... I'm very glad to have met her.

We reached our campsite by the Orkhon River at early evening. This time, there actually was water flowing but this also meant we had to drive through it, luckily the Russian vans were built for everything and didn't have too much trouble although one did get momentarily stuck and had to be towed. Now we were out of the desert, there was lots of wood lying around so Joe, Cory and I set to building a campfire which made the evening so much more interesting from the rest. After dinner we all gathered round, drinking beer and vodka and singing songs. I usually hate singing but, having left my personal stereo in UB was missing music to such an extent that singing Oasis in the countryside had a remarkable amount of appeal.
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The Great White Lake
I have to say that one thing which had kept me going whilst backpacking has been music. I can't go without it and it dictates my mood... music makes me happy and I was a little lost without it. It was a theme that developed for the rest of the trip. In the vans, round the campfire or just sitting alone on a rock there was singing and humming and a realisation that music is one of the most important things in life and something that I, and many others, never knew was needed so much.

Morning comes and we head for another city, Tsetserleg which lies at the centre of Mongolia. There was another Temple to be seen but I opted to break from the group and take a walk around town instead. Aside from not being that interested I realised that I was missing time alone, being around other people constantly can be really intense, sometimes you just need time for yourself. I walked around what is probably the nicest inhabited area in Mongolia. Predictably run down and gritty yet calm, friendly and easy going. Tstetserleg is everything UB is not. I walked around feeling like a
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The Great White Lake
movie star as groups of schoolgirls waved and shouted hello and old men nodded at me. A little girl holding her grandmother's hand jumped up and down in excitement upon seeing the white guy and a little boy came up to me to shake my hand. Mongolia may be experiencing the start of a tourist boom which is seeing an increasing number of tourist vans leaving for the country and a multitude of ex-pat cafe's is UB but out here westerners were still a real novelty, I felt like I was in the twilight zone and extremely lucky to be here now. Things will always change and there will surely be a time when this will no longer happen. It was great although I can imagine it would get pretty annoying if you lived here and had to deal with strangers saying hello when you're hungover and moody. After my walk I rejoined the group at the temple where a group of schoolkids came to have their photo taken with us, then it was time to meet the other westerners, who happen to be in Tsetserleg, at the Fairfield Cafe. In 1993 an English couple came to UB to teach
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Wild West Town
english and preach the bible. They then decided to head west and after facing much corruption, robbery and after coming close to Bancrutpcy, they established a little cafe and guesthouse which they are currently running at a loss. Once it starts to break even they will offer it to the local community to run as a co-operative enterprise. The place served fantastic European food and amazing pastries... it was a bit of luxury we all appreciated. It was impressive to see such selfless actions from people, whilst I can't agree with pushing religion on the locals I admired the couple for their giving their lives to the local community, providing jobs and eventually a money making business to the people out of sheer kindness.

Terkhin Tsagaan Nuur (Great White Lake) and Heading North


The drive towards our next resting place was nothing short of breathtaking, through an area so friendly that locals farming their fields or chilling out by their Gers would jump up and down and wave, where the kids run alongside the vans on horseback and a place so beautiful that the word 'wow' just drops out of your mouth at random intervals. The long drive was
Moron  Moron  Moron

Horse and Cart Drivers at the Market
not so tiring because of the views and it was nearly sunset by the time we got to the Great White Lake. We pitched our tents by the beautiful water which literally shines white (hence the name I suppose). It was an unspoiled area, completely natural. It only remains a matter of time before someone makes money from it I suppose and provides for the tourists but for now there was nothing but us, a few gers and an empty and awe inspiring lake. No boats, no waterside cafes, no nothing. Despite the beautiful location, this wasn't the best place to be. The wind blowing off the water made for a freezing night, it's all a trade off though I suppose.

Morning came and it was time for a swim. I headed down to the water with Jess, Steve and Emer and we all jumped in to suffer the effects of a freezing lake, for a small while I forgot how to breathe. So, my swim only lasted a minute, I've never been so cold in my life. The day was lazy... very lazy. So lazy indeed that I just did this, read my book then took an early
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The Summer Snow and The Mountains
night... after a dinner time picking sand out of my food and playing a game Joe and I devised where you name a band and the other has to sing one of their songs. So I can't sing very well, not many of us could but we'd all given up caring.

Morning and another excrutiatingly long drive. On these drives we never covered more than say 200 miles but because of the terrain this could often take around 10 hours, I don't think I'll ever complain about a road journey in the UK ever again. I was in with Audrey, B2, Joe and Emily for a day of Scrabble and singing games. About an hour into the drive one of the vans broke down, luckily the drivers are all fantastic mechanics and can fix any problem in no time without even the right materials. Here they managed to improvise a fan belt repair whilst we all managed to get sunburned with the yaks by a river. The heat was really becoming intense, the weather here is so incredibly changable. We eventually reached a section of the Orkhon river for the night, a relaxed evening with a campfire and beer
Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur

Lake Khovskol
in a beautiful spot, everywhere in this part of the country was beautiful. We managed to attract a group of locals who wanted to hang out with the tourists as well as a family who just wanted to stand a distance away and stare. All this attention was still very strange and intriguing to me.

Moron & Lake Khovskol


Moron, just north of where we camped is one of Mongolia's most dangerous places for foreigners to be (and unfortunately there was no sign bearing the town's name for me to have my photo taken next to). I have no idea why but it's a place with a reputation. We didn't experience any of this today though. The town was only a short drive north of our campsite and had something we hadn't seen for ages... an internet cafe! Time to check the world cup scores, I can't believe I forgot that the world cup would coincide with the tour when I booked it.

Moron was interesting, a very run down place that looks like it's straight out of a wild west movie, the roads are dusty and the market rough looking, one of the main forms of transport
Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur

Clemens taking on the Nadaam Champion at a different kind of wrestling (and still losing)
here seems to be horse and cart. A couple of guys asked me to take their photo and then asked me to give them money for the privalege, I'm glad that I've managed to perfect my 'sorry I don't understand so I'm just going to walk away with a shrug of the shoulders' routine. I went for some Khuushuur (fried mutton pancakes) with Audrey and then we took a walk around the city. Like everywhere else, people stopped to say hello or waved from across the street, the novelty of this still hadn't worn off. We took a little walk around what is definitely the poorest and most delapidated place I have visited in this country, hundreds of run down wooden houses, tired looking locals and empty shops. I used to wonder how immigrants into the UK could adapt to living in some of the less pretty parts of London, but even Hackney or Peckham would look luxurious next to this place.

We headed north to Lake Khovskol, up by the Russian Border and still frozen in parts. The mosquitos were out in force but more annoying than anything as apparently it was too early in the season for
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Dinner Time
them to have grown enough to bite. We were staying for 3 nights so could really relax and we set down for some proper mongolian cuisine (yes, that's mutton). I helped cook as I wanted to learn how to make Soya Van and Khaleouna agreed to teach me. This essentially meant making and needing dough for 24 people then flattening it out to a couple of millimetres thick so it can be cut into noodles (yes, very very boring and tiring) then steaming them on top of the mutton and potatoes, the whole process took several hours but at least gave me a certain sense of satisfaction. After dinner we appeared to have collected a few random Mongolians who had come on horseback to join us for a chat as well as a couple of women who had come to set up a market stall. We had decided to have a wrestling competition for the guys, Mongolians versus tourists. Now, Mongolian people aren't the biggest in the world but hey, they can wrestle. Whilst British kids will tend to grow up playing football, Mongolians spend their youth wrestling. Mongolian style wrestling is won as soon as one of the contenders
Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur

Mongolian Wrestling
places any body part on the ground other than his feet. Clemens, Steve and I seemed to be the only volunteers and were pitted against the drivers who all chose their opponenets. First up was Clemens and Baikal, Baikal won easily against someone twice his size, the same was repeated with Steve and Gamba and then me and Toro, I was easily toppled by a guy who can be no taller than 5'4". We had a few more matches and Jan managed to beat one of our guests and I went up against Baikal and even though I lost, managed to stay on my feet for a good couple of minutes. It was an incredibly exhausting 2 minutes, each year at the National Wrestling Competions at Mongolia's Naddam Festivals the best wrestlers of each region get together. Last year's final lasted nearly 3 hours, I can't even imagine such endurance. Mongolians are without doubt amongst the toughest people on earth, they seem to have a superhuman strength and stamina in order to endure life in one of the world's most hostile climates.

The next day we woke up to snow, no word of a lie.

Once white stuff
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Gamba Drying His Trousers on the Fire
stopped falling from the sky I headed out to a tourist Ger camp nearby which had hot showers. It was an hour walk there and an hour back, I didn't mind, the shower made me feel 1000 times better. The rest of the day was lazy, these rest days generally were as I was so exhausted, others did a lot of hiking but I think I'm made of weaker stuff than them. I whiled away the afternoon playing scrabble with a few others before dinner of Mutton made the same way as the goat and another wrestling competition. The drivers had been getting steadily drunker throughout the day and had invited down the local Naddam Wrestling Champion, a 6'4" lump of muscle. A few tried to beat him (got their asses kicked) and then I finally won a wrestling match!!! (Although it was against Steven...) The drivers then challenged us all to arm wrestling, I suprisingly managed to beat one of the locals but lost to the big guy in about 3 seconds (he spent 3 seconds without trying). I also had a match against Bold but he was so drunk he forgot what he was doing, stood up and
Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur

Joe & Emily
walked off half way through. After wrestling it was volleyball time, Baikal and Gamba played and really bonded with the group in a drunk, 'love ya man' kind of way... the rest of us were getting steadily drunker. We played volleyball for hours, not even keeping score and rotating the teams all the time before settling down for a camp fire. The drivers and Khaleouna sang a beautiful Mongolian song about giving thanks to your mother for all she has done for you in the world and that she should never worry as the children will always be there to support her... Mongolians have a much stronger sense of family than us. After this we all had to sing a song from our own counties, Joe, Emily and I could only come up with Wonderwall... sad really! We all drank, chatted and sang until the early hours, slowly peeling off one by one for bed for what would be one of the coldedst nights I've ever experienced.

I'd not drunk much, I decided not to get very drunk on this trip, in order to pace myself and so far had never had more than a couple of beers or
Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur  Khovskol Nuur

The Drivers: Tura, Gamba, Baikal and Bold
vodka. Dealing with this with a hangover would be horrible. AT about 4am I awoke and every part of my body was shaking, I put on more clothes and wrapped my sleeping bag hood on but it was not much help. The temperature must have been close to -15 or so, nobody slept more than a couple of hours. Everyone felt, looked and acted miserable in the morning. We all moped about, did nothing imparticular until the afternoon. A crappy feeling was evident. Luckily, the sun was out again after a few hours and it was hot. A few of us went horse riding which was definitely the highlight of my trip. Although I have vague reccolections of getting on a horse once or twice as a kid I've never really ridden one. This was good because it was Mongolia and therefore laid back and we could have some fun. Unlike my unresponsive camel in the Gobi, I have a beautifully behaved horse which did whatever it was told, soon enough I was getting the hang of it and running off with Jan and Vibika across the fields. I got sunburned like hell, earned a horrible blister and couldn't sit down properly for days but man... it was brilliant. I loved it.

It was an early night for everyone, almost as cold as the previous one but we were all prepared and endured it well. In the morning we headed back to Moron for lunch and got to experience the worse side of the city. As we drove in a copper decided to hassle our drivers for no particular reason and marched them all of for a "spot check". The police are horribly corrupt in this part of the world and the drivers knew what to expect, it was the first time that we saw them angry! Jess says they didn't have to pay a bribe but we weren't too sure, they didn't look happy. A few of us walked off to the internet cafe (England 1 - 0 Paraguay) whilst Jess and B2 went shopping for supplies. As we walked down the street we saw a man unconcious, just lying there. I wondered how the policeman who should be protecting the citizens could ignore this in favour of hassling our drivers, it got worse when we saw an ambulance drive straight past the guy. He was breathing and
Selenge RiverSelenge RiverSelenge River

Yaks Taking a Dip
clearly drunk but hey, doesn't anyone care? Meanwhile in the market Jess was getting aggression from the locals, a guy just stood in front of her and wouldn't move... just a bit of fun to piss off a tourist. She also ordered lunch for us but the restaurant decided to sell it to someone else who came in after we ordered. Yes, what a lovely town Moron is (and it seemed like an okay place on our first visit).

Before we left Moron we had to loose Audrey, she was leaving us early as her flights were already booked to tie in with her original tour. It was a little emotional, we all liked her and having all lived so closely for 2 weeks it was like losing a family member. The afternoon was long, hot and tiring. A general lethargy had set in within the group and we all wanted to just give up. There was only 3 nights left but they would be hard. Time to set up camp couldn't come soon enough, this was the toughest day yet.

Return to Red Hero


We set up camp by the Selenge River, one of our most beautiful camping spots yet. Everyone was knackered, some swam whilst Jan and I collected a bit of firewood then sat down with a beer by the river and chatted to some others for a while. B2 cooked an amazing curry... the beautiful spot and great food put us in a more positive mood but the group was getting low. We knew we were heading home and wanted to be there, another 3 nights camping would be tough.

It was downhill from here, the lethargy in the group ever present and more long drives ahead. We broke down again the next day and had to stop off to get Baikal's van welded, we were in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere but had found tarmac again and were on the main road to UB. We were not a novelty here, nobody said hello. We were just another bunch of tourists on the way or way back from Khovskol. Even lunch was an effort today, a beautiful location in the baking heat. We eventually arrived at out penultimate campsite. A rubbish dump for a nearby Ger camp it seemed. We slowly set up camp and got to food, drinking a
UlaanbaatarUlaanbaatarUlaanbaatar

Pat was Tea-Total... until we got back to UB.
beer and smoking a cigarette with Joe, Emily, Grazia and Clemens was all I could muster... the exhaustion was setting in big time.

All of us were slow the next day, there were smiles but many forced. We drove to the Gorkhi Terelj National Park where the Przewalski (or Taki) horse was recently reintroduced having been made extict in the area. The minature horses roam around wild and on arriving at camp we went to the National Park Office to get a tour. One thing about Mongolia is that no matter how friendly the locals are, anyone in a position of customer service seems to go out of their way to be as rude as possible. And so our guide drove with us up into the park, pointed at some horses in the distance, didn't answer any questions or give any information and then told us to decide if we want to walk back or drive back. Yes, we were all completely underwelmed.

Back at camp it was the final night but lethargy was the order of the day. We were all incredibly glad we'd done this tour but were fed up, wanted a proper bed, some real
Trans-Mongolian RailwayTrans-Mongolian RailwayTrans-Mongolian Railway

Peter The Aussie and Our Cozy Carriage
food other than rice, pasta, carrots, potatoes and tough meat. An early night was in order for most and the next morning was a complete change of mood, we were only camped about an hour or two from UB and, pulling our tents down for the last time everyone was smiley happy. Into the car, straight onto a tarmac road and bedfore we knew it the smoke and dust of UB was in sight. Driving through the suburbs of UB was depressing but didn't wipe the smiles of our faces. This city really does look a shambles, even it's nicer parts are only on par with the worse parts of any Eastern European city. It must be strange for Mongolians who come here for the first time, an incredible amount of people are ditching nomadic country life for a chance of making it in the big city. I can't imagine anything more depressing than coming from the most beautiful countryside in the world to what must be close to the world's worst city. Unemployment is high, crime is astronomical. Whilst bearable by day, the streets become dodgy as hell at night as the inhabitants get drunk on vodka which they can't handle. The night before we left on tour, B2 witnessed a mugging and a shop being ram raided in the space of 5 minutes. On the train the next day I met an Aussie who had his walled robbed on Peace Avenue. Tourists are warned about going out at night, just being European is enough to get you beaten up in a club.

We pulled up at the UB guesthouse feeling like returning heroes, with the exhaustion we'd all endured we felt like we'd realy acheived something speical. The owners were there to greet us and it was all smiles, handshakes and cheers. Faces that had been miserable, moods that had been close to breaking point over the last couple of days were lifted. Travelling in a big group was intense, I was amazed there was no trouble amongst us. It would be fair to say that there was a hell of a lot of personality clashes in the group but no fights, I suppose we were all mature enough to keep a lid on it and to maintain the calm necessary for a smooth trip. In other circumstances I'm sure harsh words and perhaps fists would have been flying.

That afternoon a load of us sat in the baking sun on the veranda of Chez Bernard, UB's Belgian Cafe. The city looks slightly bearable in the sun, we chilled out, drank, fed ourselves some much needed vitamins and got sunstroke before our last evening together. Nighttime, and everyone looked different having washed. The drivers joined us for dinner at a top end (ish) restaurant. We ate and drank and just got along as if we had all been friends for ages, although still in the little groups we'd all found ourselves forming throughout the tour. We moved on, most of the group drunk to Dave's Bar, an English Pub in Sukhbaatar Square where we sang, drank and stayed merry until the small hours. People dropped off one by one to hugs and goodbyes. Jess made a personal toast to all of us, each one heartfelt, she was truly thankful to us. She had been thrown in at the deep end having never done the tour before and been pretty much screwed over by her employers. She was absolutely amazing and even more so as she would be doing it all again with a new group 3 days later.

That was it, that was my time in the most beautiful country on earth. Just time for Pizza the next day at Emily's birthday lunch and then I was on my own again. Onto the last month of my trip.

And to Russia


Whilst I was glad to have time to spend with myself again, going from being in such a close group to travelling solo again was potentially difficult. I rocked up at Ulaanbaatar train station, preparing myself for the 37 hour journey to Irkutsk. The small two carriage train would take me north, stopping at every damn stop along the way and into Siberia to hook up with a Trans Siberian train.

I shared my compartment, and home for the next 2 days, with an Aussie guy called Pete and a middle aged mongolian couple that didn't speak english. I was exhausted (did I mention that already) and just wanted to realax. Luckily there was not much else to do other than to chill out with a book or chat a little to Pete so there we go. As we pulled out of UB a drunk russian guy came into our compartment demanding vodka, he started punching Pete's leg and getting aggressive, I though this will probably be an interesting journey. The Mongolian guy sharing our cabin kicked him out then the 2 hefty Provotnitsas (the Russian Lady's who are in charge of the carriage) told him to stay away, nobody messes with these ladies. As we headed noth I drifted into sleep to wake up at Sukhbaatar on the border where we would stop for 7 hours for one of the most exrutiatingly slow border crossings ever. I freshened up in the station toilets, meeting the 'friendly' Russian guy on the platform who'd stopped demanding vodka and now wanted money. He was with his friends who just sat and looked apologetic. Some people are just idiots.

And then I was in Russia.



XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Email from Jess to the group sent after we left. Seemed fitting to put it here

Gorgeous people x

Thankyou. Thats it.

I raise my beer glass to you for....your patience over
yet another meal served as the light dipped from the
sky, over the fact that you accepted sand, grit and
dirt as extras in your lunches and dinners, over your
help with the peeling, the chopping, the stirring,
over your ability to cope with all out heat, quite wet
rain, freezing nights and yet more sand, your
understanding over the issue of yet another dish made
with mutton, for your patience over your lost battle
with the bloody zips, for no raised eyebrows when you
were served your 10th pasta dish, for all the tents
put up, holes dug, bread sliced, dishes washed, for
even when you were shattered you accepted the long
roads, the dust, the heat, the stops for no reasons,
your ability to cope with freezing water to wash in
and not a whole heap of showers and for all the
laughs, my stomach almost has a six pack....well....

So.

Grant us the joy of the ridiculous
Tease our throats with laughter
Energise our minds with arguments and sex
Fuel our hearts with tea and kisses
Pump poetry into our fingers and music into our toes
Dress us in strange headwear
And dance us through another beautiful day.

Enjoy, love and luck x

Distances on way....time is doing strange things today
and keeps running out


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Comments only available on published blogs

27th June 2006

Moron
Moron is an awesome name for a place. Imagine giving people your address!!

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