Flaming Cliffs

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Waking up in the morning after a freezing night camping in a small valley, the equatorial sleeping bag from mountain equipment did not exactly live up to my expectations for the desert. After a mediocre breaki we hit the road/non-existant road again and soon end up at the equivalent of a cafeteria (more closely resembling a few planks of wood nailed together with a tin roof and pit toilet 30 meters away. After another horrowing ride we come to the flaming cliffs and the dinasour finds of the gobi desert, it will now be about the 30th time I've been approached to buy some camel hair or a sack full of ankle bones, would love to see what canada customs thinks of them. Due to the chance of rain we stay in a ger family, waking up in the middle of the night to hear the rain pounding outside and a man older than god sitting in the doorway. I've never seen someone so happy for rain, though the summer had been dryer than ever before in the gobi. I just wonder how our russian mini bus holds up to the roads now.

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