Wednesday 24th July 2013

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Morning Monoliths

So who put those stones there, in a line? We have seen no other rock formations like it in the whole of our travels. Hilde says it reminds her of Stonehenge. I walk around the rocky outcrop, and wade through wild thyme and flowering chives up to my waist. I had hoped the sun would have changed the colours of the rocks more, but the sky is a bit overcast. Still, I take dozens of photos, and some of out encampment.

Tim is trying to secure the exhaust to the Landy. Our rear tyres are nearly bald. Good job we are having them replaced tomorrow. Sit in the sun, getting hotter now, writing lesson plans for tomorrow. Eeeeekkkkkk!!!! Going to take loads of stuff – maps, travel books, Country Living magazine, song book, balloons. Counting, parts of the body (age appropriate and legal), finding places on maps, directionality, Feely Bag, I went to UB and I bought, I Spy…… Too many ideas for one lesson, but OFSTED won’t be there, so who cares?

Poor Tim is suffering. He got hot yesterday, so has prickly heat. (It may be eczema, but can’t spell that.) Smother him in lotion. Hope that helps. Even he is complaining about the state of his hair, asking if I have any conditioner. No, but there may be some at the hotel. Hilde is thrilled that her contact has organised the next few days. Seems we won’t be able to get to the traditional music show tonight, there won’t be time. So she arranges to meet her in the lobby, and we will all go out for a meal.

It starts to rain a little as we leave. Atle is not happy, there is something wrong with his car. He leads. Tim can use low range engine braking down the hill. Only 2.5km to the main road. We stop at junction and Atle plugs in diagnostic kit. Our early start is slipping away. Never mind. Hildefender is down on power, may be to do with turbo. Air filter checked.

We set off, but Hildefender is just limping. We stop again, and attach the new solid tow bar. Manage a few Km, before they ask us to stop. They are too close to our vehicle, and can’t see anything. We swop to a longer strop. A car stops in the middle of the road, and asks us if we are alright. It is the Mongolian who looked at our maps yesterday. He wishes us a safe journey. Manage a juddering start, a little wobble and then we make good progress.

We are a “push-me-pull-you.” We are pulling them and they are the brakes. Overtaking is interesting. Several scary moments with animals and blue lorries obstructing our joint path. A car overtaking on the other side of the road, heading straight towards us and we can’t brake, is a challenge. We are fine.

We get to a major road junction, Atle slows us down, no oncoming traffic, so we go for it. We then stop for a toll booth, pay for both cars. Ok so far. We pull them up steep hills, they brake us on the way down. We realise we are slowing down going up hill. Then a horrible noise from the engine. Tim keeps hitting the temperature gauge, but once again it is not working. We ask Atle to brake. Engine overheated. Spewing water, not oil thank goodness. Let it cool, put more water in.

Just as we are getting back into the cars, I get stung. Tim is great. He finds the Aspi Venom and it sucks the fluid out. I can already feel it hurting like hell. We get back in the cars, I keep very still and my right arm down. Piriton and Epi Pen at the ready.

We don’t get very far at all, and we get no further under our own steam the whole of the day. Both cars broken. We phone the LR garage in UB. It takes a while, but they eventually organise two tow trucks. I sit on the back step, in the shade and have a cold drink. Don’t think this will develop into a full blown anaphylactic shock. Arm isn’t swelling and I feel ok.

We set out a picnic table and chairs in the lay-by. Hilde organises lunch, stuff which will not keep if the fridge has to be off for a few days whilst the cars are in the garage. We discuss our options. We don’t want our journey to end here, like this.

After a while, Atle has sorted the problem with his car. The second tow truck is an hour behind the first. Atle and Hilde decide to drive back towards UB. If the Landy is fine, they will cancel the second tow truck. They drive off.

Tim and I sit at the side of the road. I must admit, we felt a bit abandoned. But after 10 minutes or so, Hilde tells us they have just seen our recovery truck. It arrives, pulls into the lay by opposite. The driver gets out of the cab, makes a phone call. We wave at him. He gets back into the cab, and drives off!!!!!!! Now we really feel abandoned. Never seen Tim run so fast, yelling and waving his arms. The driver stops, reverses and comes to our aid.

We are sceptical that the truck is strong enough to transport our heavy Landy. Tim sits in whilst it is winched on to the flat bed. Driver, with very little English, indicates to leave it in gear with handbrake on. Chocks under the front wheel, no tying down, no nothing. This is our home and our only means of transportation. Please don’t let it bounce off the back.

We get in. It is 9pm. We get to bed at 2am. Driver is very careful. We have over 100km to travel, on rough roads, in the dark. Tim and I try to nod off, but it is bumpy, I have no head rest and, as agreed, we keep in touch with Atle and Hilde every 30 mins. They are making good progress, so the second truck is cancelled. Good.

During the journey we learn a little about our rescuer. He lives in UB, has two boys and is impressed with our Landy. He asks if it is automatic, no, if it is diesel, yes, and if it has a turbo, yes. He has the roundest, shiniest, happiest face. He keeps looking back at the Landy, gets out to check things and cleans the windscreen. Every time I ask him if he is ok, he laughs and says ok.

We can see the light pollution from UB. A small motorbike is ahead, carrying three adults. Suddenly it wobbles, crashes to the ground, and all three fall off. If we were following behind, we would have stopped, but the driver keeps going.

Eventually, we reach the main ring road. We see the Southern Route where we first entered the city. Even at this late hour there is a lot of traffic. Have to go on a short detour, which is extremely bumpy and dusty. The driver has the name of the garage, but we end up at the back of a place which sells large machinery. We tell him this is not the right place, then show him paperwork with the correct address. When we arrive at the complex, the gates are locked and the security guards will not open them. We show them paperwork for the service due to or row (well today actually, as it is now 00:30. ). The driver gives them a bung, and the gates are opened. We off load and lock up. I ask the driver if he will take us to the hotel, and without hesitating he says yes.

We know Atle and Hilde have reserved our rooms. We had planned to tell them when we were at the garage, and they would order a meal from room service. But we are too tired and emotional to eat. It has been a long day. We have gone through every emotion, from the exquisite tranquility of waking up this morning, to the feeling sick with fright during the towing, to the feeling of abandonment of being left, to the worry of what happens now, to the bone aching tiredness at the end of the day.

The driver pulls up outside Chinggis Khaan. It feels like our sanctuary. We pay him royally. Thank you, thank you, thank you we all say to each other. We give him a hug. Drive safely.

1.30am. The lifts are all broken. We walk up five flights of stairs with the meagre possessions we have salvaged from the car. All my work prepared for the school visit is still there. I will come back another time, and meet these amazing students and teachers.

We shower, have a drink and crash out, exhausted. 2am.

Tuesday 23rd July 2013

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Butterflies and Buddhists

Waken up in paradise. Blue skies, sunshine, alpine meadows. Long lie in, luxurious lazy breakfast. Tea with milk, Russian grapefruit, Turkish yoghurt, Mongolian apple, Jeanette’s homemade rhubarb jam on bread. And at “push back time,” fresh black coffee.

The pastures around us are full of wild flowers, insects and butterflies. It looks as if animals had grazed there in the past, but there were no sheep or goats to be seen now. Because so many people are moving closer to the towns and cities, many areas are now being over grazed, and others are now under grazed. This could have a huge environmental impact. Over dinner last night we were discussing Mongolia’s future. What issues need addressing to entice Eco tourism. Obviously, the transport infrastructure needs improving. But that is very costly. If there could be a good paved road East to West, and another North to South, joining UB, other larger cities and Russia and China, that would improve trade and tourism. The rest of the roads and tracks can be left for off- roading and trekking.

The issue that could be addressed much more cheaply, is the rubbish. Recycling plants could be funded, and energy produced. It would vastly improve the health and living conditions of millions of people; the look of the countryside and the environment. Also, mains water is not feasible for the vast majority of areas, so a system should be set up to recycle/reuse all the plastic bottles and containers.

Driving through this countryside is breathtaking. Rape and wheat are being harvested, and the people are much more affluent than those of the south. Trees grow in little valleys, a hawk is flying from the woods. Then there are the butterflies. Millions of them. Every little drop of moisture is being drunk by dozens. As we approach a puddle there is a silent explosion. Brightly coloured wings bear them away.

A dead sheep becomes lunch for a bird of prey. Wait behind some cows at a level crossing. The tracks are bumpy and sandy.

Back on the main road. Only an hour to the Amarbayasgalant Khild, Buddhist Temple. When wearing my reading glasses, and not my sunglasses, I notice how filthy my trousers are. As we are staying in the hotel in UB for three nights from tomorrow, I may splash out and pay to have some washing done. Maybe bedding, towels and night wear too.

Congratulations to Kate and Will. A new baby boy. Third in line to the throne?

Happy holidays Strouds. Hope you all enjoy your tapas meal in Plymouth tonight.

We have busy days planned, so this feels like a holiday, a bit of r&r. We intend to picnic when we get to the monastery, and have a good mooch around. Then start heading back towards UB, before camping tonight. Our turn to cook. Chicken curry I think.

Tomorrow we have to get back to the Chinese Embassy by 3pm, collect out visas, check in at hotel, get changed and then go out to watch traditional Mongolian dancing and singing. Then find somewhere to eat.

Thursday is even busier for us all. Hilde is spending the morning preparing for interviews later that afternoon and on Friday. Then conducting interviews. I am going to School number 13 and teaching David’s class. Secondary aged children, I do not know their abilities or previous learning, how many there will be of either sex, their level of English or their interests. Typical challenges facing teacher on a daily basis then. Tim and Atle are taking the cars to the garage for 9am and getting a taxi back to hotel. Atle is under strict instructions not to come back to their suite to sleep and snore, as that is where Hilde will be with her interviewees.

As lessons finish at 1.30pm, I may head back into town and hit the shops for the afternoon. There are Gobi cashmere scarves for sale at the hotel, which are so fine you can hardly feel them. Also on sale are cashmere dresses, which you would have to be a size zero to fit into. I am sure I can find cheaper outlets. The cars will hopefully be collected by late afternoon, then we will all meet up for dinner.

Friday, Hilde has interviews again in the evening, so we may all be proper tourists during the day. We discussed just choosing one or two things to do. The museum of Mongolian History and Culture is a must. I fancy seeing dinosaur bones.

Very bumpy track the last 36km to the monastery. Several Buddhist shrines along the way. A lot of blue plastic is found in these religious shrines. Mountains not as gentle now, rocky and more jagged.

We get stuck, in stinky water. Don’t fancy getting out and putting my feet into the gloop. Manage to extricate myself without getting wet. Hilde and I meet up, cameras in hand. Atle successfully fords the water we avoided, chocks the car, and Tim attaches the winch. A group of Swiss tourists and their local driver see a photo opportunity. They end up helping and get splattered in mud. Tim is soon out. If we had the new tyres fitted, they would have gripped and we would have been fine.

The Swiss are just on their way back from the monastery, saying it was very peaceful. Could do with a bit of peace. Only 9km to go. Large ger camps on flat plains. For tourists. Soon spy the monastery, perched halfway up the hillside. Ford several streams. Herd of horses paddle in one, thin Mongolian men and fat Mongolian women paddle in another. Drive closer and park up. Several tourist trucks, vehicles with MNG plates and two foreign cars. Ours.

Hilde wonders if they are serving lunch. We read up about it. Largest of five temples. Most northerly. Built in 18th century. We wander around. The main temple is cool, and dark. A young monk asks, “Where is your guide?” We didn’t know we needed one. He points out one side, 500 gods. Then the other side. 500 gods. I ask him if he knows all the names. He doesn’t. I learn a little about him. He is 14 years old. He has been training for two years. He chose to become a monk. He lives at the temple, with 30 other monks. I learn nothing about Buddhism.

Looking at the 1,000 gods, they all look the same. Incense sticks are planted in sand. Large silk banners are hung from the roof. Horns and drums wait silently to be played. Offerings of money are laid by statues. We read that there was an entrance fee, but no one asked us to pay. We leave an offering.

Outside the hooded crows are making a racket. The netting which was put in the eaves to deter birds from nesting has not been successful. We walk through a courtyard, where young novices are weeding the paths. All shaven headed, one wearing an adult sized pair of flip flops. There are four smaller temples at the back, all wooden and adorned with gold. In one, an old man and his apprentice are restoring four wooden statues in gaudy colours. As we leave, Atle says, “These buildings will be magnificent, when they are finished.”

As we walk back to the cars, Tim falls down a hole. Honestly, he should have been a rodent. Marmot perhaps? We look for somewhere to eat. Not a NT tea room in sight. We stop by the exit. Where people are selling local food, hot horsche and tiny wild strawberries. We picnic on the grass by the cars. For a treat we eat the box of Magnum lollies bought a life time ago. A young man comes across, sits with us and starts looking at our map. After a while, we show him our route through Mongolia. He then gets under the cars, and notices the missing parts from Hildefender.

We head back towards the main road, hoping to camp quite close so we can have an early start in the morning. The horses are still paddling, but the people have gone. Change the route slightly, as Atle may struggle on the steep bits. We don’t get caught out at the crossing this time. Minding our own business, when we both suddenly say, “I can smell alcohol.” A new box of wine is leaking. Gaffer tape it up and carry on.

Over the radio, Hilde says, “Shall we camp behind those hills?” We zig zag up them, and park at the top. It is only 5.25pm. Never stopped this early. From our vantage point we can see the main road, snaking its way through the valley. It should be a short drive to join it in the morning. There are a set of standing stones. Will photograph them in the morning light.

All settle down to our various jobs. Drink Golden Gobi beer first, recommended to us by the French at the ger. Excellent choice. Tim empties the back of the Beast, we have found the reason for he popped wine bag. Our olive oil bottle has broken and it punctured the bag bit also punctured my big red North Cape bag. Gutted. I empty the clothes out, get washing up liquid on the few that have olive oil on and wash the bag. When it is dry, we will gaffer tape that up too.

Change menu to Tees Valley Beef in Black Velvet Ale. Hilde’s choice. Cook it with pasta, as we may have vodka soaked strawberries in Northumberland Creamy Rice Pudding. If I can husk the strawberries in time.

The full moon gently rises above the hills. It is stunning. The abiding memory of today is the colour. The wild, alpine flowers, the contrasting greens of the trees and wheat, the acid yellow of the rape, the dazzling hues of the silk banners, the gaudy colours of the statues, the bluest skies in the world and the blood red of the wine as it dripped out of the back of the Beast.

Just as we had fallen asleep, my mobile rings. 001 – same number that has tried to get hold of us for several days. Carphone Warehouse. Did we know we were due an upgrade? Did you know we are in Mongolia, seven hours ahead of you? Please phone back in September.

Monday 22nd July 2013

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Chinese visa applications

Tim sleeps fitfully. He always gets shredded about visa applications. We are up at 6.30, check out, order a taxi, have breakfast (full English for good luck), and arrive at Embassy’s visa door just before 8am. First ones there. Tim stands by door, Nd I sit on bench catching up with blog. Very quickly a large crowd gathers. There Re people of many nationalities. There are those who will queue patiently, and those who band on the door and feel themselves to be important. The lovely Canadian family turn up. We chat. Their camper is driving well, but is being shaken apart on the inside, no water, no shower. They were hoping to share the costs of application with another family, but found out yesterday they had dropped out. But, they are in good spirits and it was lovely to see them again.

Punctually at 9.30am the doors open, we don’t have to use elbows to keep our place. The clerk was efficient, read the paperwork, asked pertinent questions. She then asked when we wanted to pick up the visas. Wednesday at 4pm. Went across the road to the bank, paid $100. Done. 9.50am.

Decide to walk back to hotel, quicker than taxi due to one way system. Pavements were atrocious. Road sweeper was clearing gutters, and shovelling mud onto pavement. Just missed our feet. Crossed the river. Small fun fair being uncovered for the day. Sunshine, although rain forecast for later. Tents and cars for sale. Enter the Sky Shopping Mall at the back of hotel. Buy some yoghurt. Order a cup of tea, and contact Atle and Hilde. They are meeting Jeanette and Pugi, who will translate for them at the immigration offices. Their visa for Mongolia was a single entry, although they had asked and paid for double entry. We will drive to airport and hopefully meet them again. Then off to the wilderness for a couple of nights.

Sunday 21st July 2013

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Wake up in a ger in Telej National Park

We hear Pugi opening the roof vents, lighting the fire and setting the table. We gradually gather ourselves and wander outside. The horses are munching grass just the other side of the stream, we can see no other people. A black kite soars overhead. Breakfast is fresh waffles, home made cream, rhubarb jam and yoghurt. Didn’t really take to the salted, milky tea. Tim made fresh coffee. The French woman was intrigued by the Aero Press, was going to buy one for her parents. Jeanette eagerly accepted a cup, and we sat with her in the sunshine drinking. Pugi appeared wearing hi own wrestling hat, and he and Atle posed for pictures.

Pugi took the French people on another horse trek. He had a young local boy who he was training. He was a superb horseman. Atle and Hilde worked on their car, Tim and I filled in documents for the Chinese visas. Jeanette had given us good advice for tomorrow morning. Get there early, it is very busy during the summer, and don’t go to the main entrance. The visa department has a tiny door in the wall round the corner.

Tale and Hilde then yomp up the hill, and Tim and I follow the stream, paddle across and hunt for wild strawberries. We find a dozen, tiny and sweet. It is hot. The wild flowers are varied and colourful. We see two dogs just wandering along.

When we return, Atle and Hilde are sitting in Jeanette’s ger. she is preparing lunch, the baby asleep on their bed. When he wakes, he is fed. Jeanette says the doctors are worried about his weight. Mongolian babies are just balls of fat, to help them survive the winters. But he has European blood in him too, and he looked just fine.

When the riding party return, we have a go around the camp. Atle’s horse is very frisky, and he is juddering around at a pace. Mine is more tranquil, indeed it seems to like stopping and eating grass. Hilde and Tim are doing very well. We all have a great laugh.

Lunch is another pile of fresh vegetables and home made dumplings stuffed with fried veg. We can’t eat even half of them. Jeanette presents us with bronze bracelets, engraved with “A chance to dream again,” the logo of their foundation. We were discussing last night the exciting future Mongolia has. Their little boy should have far more opportunities and a greater chance to go to university than his father.

Tracing our route back, the skies are ominously black, and we hear thunder. People are packing up the camping gear. I had asked to stop for a swim when the river was deep enough. But somehow, we feel we should keep going. As we leave the park, the heavens open. Then it hails and covers the mountains in white. Filthy water and rubbish is cascading down the slopes, flowing over the road and crashing down the other side. Traffic slows. We pass gers on the outskirts of UB which are flooded out, people who have very little are trying to salvage possessions and get to safety. Cars are stranded, either in the mud or up to their windows in water.

Saturday 20th July 2013

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Wake up in Ulaanbaatar

Can’t believe we have made it. Now what? We have a lazy morning, but still not time to download any more pictures. Tim emails Paul and Sally at BG Landrover, giving them an update and asking for advice about the transmission.

We meet Astrid and Olav for lunch. Have more time to enjoy each others company. On the menu was crap soup – it wasn’t. Also, chance to check out their vehicle, swop ideas and technical challenges. They are planning to travel North into Russia, and put the car on a train in Vladivostok. Think they catch the same train as well. We stand outside when the torrential rain has stopped, and have the obligatory photos taken. Two of the bell hops help out, one looking very professional. Sad to say goodbye after so short a time. But great to have met up and know they are safe.

We have booked into a ger for the night in Telej National Park. We thought the traffic was bad last night, but it took us over an hour to clear the city centre. Now we could see it in daylight, we could make more sense of it. Some soviet looking buildings, much western influence and a lot of new buildings going up. The centre is vibrant and modern. As you move to the suburbs, the housing becomes less desirable. Many people sitting on balconies with seemingly nothing to do. Large queues at the bus stops. Further out again, the ger settlements. These seem a better place to live than the area we have just left.

The scenery is unlike anything else we have seen in Mongolia. Grass covered mountains and trees. We turn off the main road, and pass a man with huge eagles tied to posts. Further on there are camels for people to ride. Two men are having a go, looking slightly ungainly. The road worsens. They are again building a new road by the side, but the old tracks are a free for all and we often have vehicles coming straight at us.

We arrive at the double bridges. The old one has wooden supports and is only used by pedestrians now. There are people along the wide riverbank, children playing and swimming, picnics and games. A stall selling smoked fish, shiny and succulent. We wait for our host to collect us. The owners of the ger are Pugi, a Mongolian, and his Norwegian wife Jeanette.

Pugi arrives, a very gentle, quietly spoken man. We follow him far along the riverbank, past organised ger camps, families picnicking and camping. Soon we are leaving civilisation behind. More permanent single ger settlements appear. Pugi stops at one of his neighbours, and collects a large metal bar. We continue to near the source of the river. It is early evening, tranquil and the light is soft.

Jeanette comes to greet us. She is warm and friendly. They have a cute little baby boy, just four months old. We are shown into our ger, large with wooden floors and two double beds. A group of four French people are also at the camp. They are working for organisations in UB, and had just arrived today for a weekend break. Pugi had taken them horse riding, and they were all hobbling about. Dinner is served in our ger, noodles, meat and plenty of veg. It starts to rain. We all sit late into the night, sharing drinks, stories and experiences.

Pugi and Jeanette take turns to join us. Jeanette had travelled widely, came to teach in Mongolia, met Pugi and they married. Pugi was born in the Altay Gobi. His family sold all their animals and moved to UB. They are setting up an organisation to support local children and families. In the winter they will go to Norway, and pay people to look after their animals- 21 horses, three huskies, one cat and several chickens.

It is a shame the young French couple who live just near the Eiffel Tower will not be back at home when we meet up next month Rachel.

The fire is stoked for the night and we crawl into bed. A day of such contrasts, and very emotional.

Friday 19th July 2013

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Realising the dream – UllaanBaatar

Do you finish school today, Claire and Ned? If so, happy holidays.

All night long, the fox circled our camp.

Up early, so the luxury of a cup of tea before breakfast, and a cup of coffee after. Sat for five minutes savouring it. Washing all dry.

Set off. Stop after two minutes. Battery in Hildefender not charging. New fuses, from under my seat. I look at birds around a nearby lake. Think there are two cranes. First eagle of the day flaps away.

We drive for another 10 minutes, then come across a truck stuck in the mud. We stop. Six hours later we are still there. The first 3 were helping them. The next 3 are getting Hildefender mended. Half shafts and gaskets etc…… During this time we send information about the cars to China. Hilde books a hotel for tonight and cancels the ger. The people we helped earlier are eager to help us. Very frustrating though.

Everyone works together for hours. Some of the young men are so eager to help, watch and learn. One was very earnest, methodical and thoughtful. Wipes every tool clean before handing it back. During the six hours we are there, five vehicles pass.

At the time, we are all concerned about the vehicles. The lorry was well overloaded. A crane, generator, three gers, all the fencing, clothing, white goods, cooking utensils. Everything that constitutes home. We managed to help them get righted, and used the new winch to get the lorry part way out. Then we strop ourselves to the Hildefender, which is then attached to the back of the lorry. During this operation, both the lorry and Hildefender have broken axels.

Looking back, the main issue of the day was the people. People from opposite sides of the world. People who had no common spoken language. But before we realised the Hildefender was damaged, the men told us to go, we had tried our best even though they were still stranded. We did not want to leave them by the wayside, but we could do no more. When we drove a few meters, and it was obvious we could go no further, the men stopped digging themselves out. They then spent three hours helping us. We offered them food, but they refused. Everyone shared tools, skills and knowledge. It was a privilege seeing this happen.

When the Hildefender was finally sorted, the Mongolians were thrilled for us, they shook our hands, clapped and cheered. Hilde and I took group photos. Fantastic experience. Thank you.

The rest of the day, Atle was driving a two wheel drive vehicle like a demon, and we had large chunks of the Hildefender in the Beast. We had nearly 300 km to drive, were six hours behind schedule, the roads were atrocious, the rain came and we felt as if we were rally driving. But, we were really looking forward to meeting up with Astrid and Olav, in ULLAANBAATAR!!!!!!!

As we approached the city, it was surreal. We were still in the mountainous countryside. The usual gers and animals were familiar sights. Suddenly we turned a corner, and we looked down on a smog. It was late evening, and we were transported back to the 19th century. It looked liked a scene from Dickens, the pea – souper over London. All the rubbish from the Mongolian capital is brought to the outskirts, and burned. What were we coming into? We had planned this for so long, but neither of us had any vision about what the city would look like.

We drove further in. The asphalt roads were single lanes, and potholed. Traffic was heavy. A new road was under construction, and people were still working on it at 9.30 pm on a Friday night. The smog lifted. We saw the airport, large chimneys, huge buildings, lights. It looked like the opening scene from a Mad Max film.

We were totally awe struck. It was such a culture shock, after living in the wilderness or small towns for so long. We began to see hoardings and adverts for western products. There were police sirens, and car horns, and traffic lights, and pedestrian crossings, and swanky hotels and shopping malls……….

Hilde and I had been taking earlier about walking in UB. Locals do not understand the concept of queuing. So we British will find this difficult. As we approached a left turn, cars squeezed in between our cars. “Use your elbows!” Laughs Hilde. A car at the side of us stops, the affluent young driver leant out of the window and shouts “Your cars are the best”

We arrive at the Chinggis Khaan Hotel. The bell hop rushes to collect our bags. “Please don’t dirty your clean white shirt in our car,” I laugh. We find our room, shower, change and meet in the foyer bar. The restaurant had just closed. We were starving. Look at the room service menu.

Astrid and Olav walk in. They look as changed as I am sure we do. All brown, from sun tans and ingrained dirt. Hair longer, and in Olav’s case, a shaggy beard. We all hug, laugh and spend the next few hours in Atle and Hilde’s suite catching up. Very different journeys, very different experiences, very different people who helped (sometimes hindered) us on the way. But we had all arrived, achieved our goal, realised our dreams. Shame we will be spending such a short time together, but precious all the same. We plan to meet for lunch together tomorrow.

The country and people who touched us all the most? Iran.

Thursday 18th July 2013

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Leaving Dalandzadgad

Enjoy your last day at Bridges, and last ever day at Nursery Esme. Don’t cry too much Mummy. Xx

Woken by lorry trying to start. Thanks. Shower again, just because we can. On way to breakfast, notice the large crane at back of hotel, has tipped and crashed through the railings. Doesn’t look as if anyone was hurt. As the morning progresses, a large group of onlookers appears, the police arrive and cordon off the area, two more cranes are brought in, the the stricken crane up righted. The long arm was well and truly bent however.

Overnight there has been a down pour. We eat the most delicious breakfast – sea weed soup, cooked sausage, omelette with fried veg and rice, yoghurt, bread and honey. We enjoyed it much better than dinner last night. Planned to spend morning working on cars, but too wet. Did some washing, goodness knows when it will dry. Tim and I down loaded some pictures, but still more to do.

Check out at mid day. Buy full sized Twix and Cadbury’s Whispa from minibar. Atle and Hilde could not understand why we bought our first house in Bourneville, when we told them there are still no licensed premises on the estate. Rain has washed great lumps of mud off both cars. Still no yoghurt in supermarket. Get fuel, but problem with cards. Atle and Hilde go off to try and find cash, leaving Tim and I as ransom. We are soon set free.

Tim and Atle discussed whether to pump more air in tyres. Decide to see how long asphalt road will last, suspect not far. Well, even in a sophisticated city, a cow ambles across the road. Drive through city centre, then past gers on the outskirts and back out into the desert in less than a minute. From here to UllaanBaatar the road is state maintained. We will see what that means. A sign says we can do 80kph, the Landy is not shaking and we can hear each other talking.

Guess what? Back to the same old same old. There is a twice weekly bus that travels this route. Wonder how long it takes? These next two days are going to be hard, as it is now muddy and slippery. Even with Diff Lock in we are sliding all over. Oh well. At least the sky ahead is clearing.

Looking on the Internet we discovered a few interesting things. We will not be in UllaanBaatar when the Mongol Rally arrives. That is a shame. But over the coming weekend, when we will be in UllaanBaatar, several storms are forecast. That is also a shame. There is a Landy garage in UllaanBaatar, which we may visit and ask them to look at the transmission. It may be expensive, and that is the biggest shame of all.

Hard to tell how deep the holes are when they are full of water. Camels with green ribbons tied round necks. You all look very fetching girls.

This is dull, and flat and boring. You can’t hear yourself think. We are getting rattled to pieces, then we slide and slip. We wear our fleecies. Tim puts the heating on. There is nothing to see, so nothing to photograph. It is hard to type. Little bit of ballet dancing there, but still pointing in the fight direction when we come to a halt. Mud splattering windscreen. Got cold feet.

They are building a new road. Piles of soil running parallel. No one came to work today. Machinery standing idle. We sneak on. Much better. Is it the Chinese who are building a mile of motorway a day? Quite fancy travelling on their high speed train, the fastest in the world. If we go to Beijing, we will have to use public transport. Want to walk on the Great Wall of China. I know it’s touristy, but we are tourists, as well as travellers.

Rain letting up a little, sky getting lighter. Spirits lifting. Feet now warm. Windscreen wipers off. Stop for technical break. Toilet paper damp, rain came through window. Dark chocolate Whispa bar for lunch. Hildefender is kicking up dust now. Sunglasses go on. Big skies. Actually, the biggest skies ever. Then fleecies come off.

I was really glad of a few creature comforts last night, but I am so looking forward to wild camping again tonight. We were discussing our time in UlllaanBaatar. We may find a hotel for a night. We are booked into a ger two hours out. Will we camp at all? We would love a day or two of down time. Tim and I have so many new books to read. We want to at least start one.

Red sand, not white like yesterday’s dunes. When we veer off track then race across the scrub, we release the smell of herbs. So evocative. Every meal we cook with thyme will transport me back to Mongolia. Need to track 5km to get back on Mandalgov – Dalandzadgad Highway.

We can suddenly smell beer. Maybe another popped can. What a waste. What a disaster. Wonder if the no booze Wednesday is a national ban? Animals, people and gers appearing now. A few hills in the distance which may provide shelter this evening.

Had to stop. A lot of crackling and squelching from radio. They can’t hear us. Have to get out, so Tim can get behind my chair. Several connections have come loose, need tightening. I get outside. It is much warmer than this morning, the temperature has gone up bt 14 degrees. Now we are heading North, only to come back South to get to China. Who planned this route?

Some disturbing headlines as Tim was down loading back copies of the Guardian. National testing for five year olds band proposals to make it more difficult for immigrants to enter Britain. Why? Hilde was saying last night, it feels so liberating not having crossed a border for over a week. Not having to produce the correct paperwork, not having to fill in forms in a foreign language, not having to prove we are good people. This is when we have got valid visas, and are just passing through on holiday.

We decide we need to stop. It is exhilarating, seeing an outcrop or cliffs of rocks in the distance. How far are they? Hoe long will it take us to get there? I guess we will be there before 7.30pm. We pass some ponds, with tall wading birds and others on the water. Maybe look at those in the morning. We choose a place, and park up. Hilde says it smells.

Atle does the required work on the wheel. One of the gaskets has completely disintegrated. It is repaired. We find out information about driving into Hong Kong. Basically we can’t. Will have to crate cars in Shanghai, and get into Hong Kong under our own steam. Another exciting challenge. Hilde tried to contact Astrid and Olav, who text to say they were only an hour away from UllaanBaatar, where were we? A day away. Would love to meet up tomorrow.

We hear a noise, which I recognise immediately. A fox. Hilde and I walk around an outcrop. The noise moves. We hunker down. Then we see it. A fox, calling out. We must be in its territory. We all hide and keep still. Gradually, the calling stops. We will only be here for one night, fox. Can we share your territory? This has been the highlight of the day.

Wonder if Mum’s house was sold today?

Wednesday 17th July 2013

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Singing Sands to Dalandzadgad

Hope you enjoy your last day at Cabin Esme. Lots of love. Xxx

Slept fitfully, in between lashing rain and howling wind. A real storm. When we woke, it was calm and sunny. No damage to tents. A herd of goats munched their way around us as we packed. On our way, we see a large parcel which must have fallen off a load. It is a lot of fleeces. Further along, a truck and trailer have a puncture. We offer help, but people are managing.

We drive towards enormous sand dunes, khongoryn Els, the “singing Sands”. They reach heights of over 800m, and are 150km long. When the wind blows, the dunes sing, and many a traveller has been lost by following these voices. Our route takes us through the dunes, along a dried up river bed. It is a actually muddy in places, because of the recent rain. As we try to climb out our Landy gets stuck in claggy, smelly mud. We have to be towed. Both cars have air let out of their tyres, as we will be driving in sand for a while.

We run parallel to the sand dunes. There are people riding camels towards the opening to the dunes, and we see a large ger settlement. Being nosy, we head in that direction. It is the Gobi Discovery Tourist Camp. If only we had found this last night. Traditional gers, double beds, toilets and hot showers. There are wooden building, for the Information Centre and restaurant. We ask about buying lunch, but it is too early. Dinosaur fossils and rocks are on display, and maps and reference books available to browse. Two kittens are playing together. On the way back to the cars, I realise why the large red camel statue at the entrance looks strange. It is sporting a rather fine pair of antlers.

Atle notices that the locals have been using the riverbed as a road. We do too. Less dips and gullies. Mountains to our left, sand dunes to our right. The desert floor is green, after the rain. Ahead, the sand is being blown right over the valley. Will we hear it singing over the noise of the Landys? The horizon has been obliterated.

Having said we wanted to stop for lunch, it would not be pleasant to stop here. Too exposed and windy. Tim was bemoaning the fact that foodstuffs we had been saving to eat in Mongolia, were still in the drawers untouched. We don’t want to be shipping stuff back home. Fair point. We ate a muesli bar on the go, to make up for the fact we had no yoghurt left, so ate bread for breakfast. Tim found a big, thick slice in the middle of the loaf, and toasted it on the Pocket Rocket. Baden Powell would have been proud.

Seen several vehicles for tourists coming towards us. It would benefit the communities if Eco-tourism was to thrive. Small businesses have been set up locally, wool and felt making. Near the border with China, further south from here, there is a small gold mine.

As we straddle yet another little water course, we agree we have done some serious off-roading on the road this trip. Well, eating on the hoof was charming. The first mackerel jumped out of the tin, rolled down my leg and flopped onto my foot. Tim had honey sandwiches. Coming towards us is something I thought was a motorbike. As we approach, it becomes clear that it is a man walking, and pulling a trailer of possessions behind him. He is wearing a face mask. He waves. We can’t tell if he is a local or tourist on long distance hike. Little towns becoming more sophisticated. One had two storey buildings. The next had street lights. Turned a corner so tight we met our own dust coming back at us. Run out of fuel in main tank, fill from secondary.

40km to go. Everyone really tired. This morning Hilde asked “Has everyone got sand in their ears?” We all have. Not chosen a hotel yet. We decided it was going to take at least three showers to get dust free and clean. Text from Astrid and Olav. They intend to be in UllaanBaatar this weekend. So we may meet up.

Turn off main steppe, and over some hillocks. Bit of variety 1.900m. Road undulates and twists. Grass and flowers. Pile of discarded bottles and cans around flat stone. Skirt round the edge of a mountain range. Very large man grazing horses, stocky and strong. Another man down by the wheels of his truck, sheltering from the wind, talking on mobile.

High telecommunications mast on edge of Dalanzadgad. Largest city we have been to in Mongolia. Tall buildings, airport, diggers and dumper trucks. A real road with asphalt. Road signs. Gers with numbers. Horse parked outside a hotel. Posh houses with railed balcony. Royal Pub. ATM. Bit overwhelming.

We find Hotel Khan Uul, which, according to its co-ordinates, should be another 56km out in the desert. Very new. On street view it is still a building site. Work is going on at the back, men digging out soil by hand. Large crane.

We book in. Ask where bar is. None of the staff have very much English, but it is obvious that the bar is not open. What? Apparently, in order to curb the rampant alcoholism the city has banned the selling of alcohol on Wednesday. That also explains why the alcohol aisle, in the supermarket where we were trying to buy yoghurt, was all under wraps. But we have a cunning plan. We sneak some cold beers from our fridge up to their suite. Sit around drinking and planning the next phase. Realise we don’t have to get out of Mongolia as quickly as we thought, because we have less than 3,000km to drive in China, 36 hours driving. That is a really liberating thought.

Everyone catches up with emails and the blog, now we have Internet. Fantastic photos on Path. Rachel’s neighbour’s disastrous driving session, fire engines, swims, beer and Esme’s last day at Cabin. What a fantastic party. We send a picture and message from Mongolia. Difficult to phone people, especially those who are at work as it is 7pm here and 12 noon at home. May try at weekend. Anyway, a lot of you are on holiday soon.

We go to our room, and shower. Bliss. Haven’t had a proper shower in over a week. Didn’t know my hair was shiny. We really feel we have come in from the wilds, having spent at least three days in the Gobi. All scrubbed up, we meet for dinner. Yuk! But we were polite. Chose a corner table, ordered bottled water with glasses, which Tim filled with red wine from our box.

All shattered. Even Atle admits he is tired of off-roading on road.

Tuesday 16th July 2013.

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Woke up early,The large grasshoppers, the ones with orange wings, were flying about. They sounded like wind up toys. Little birds were trying to catch them, some perched on the new ariel. The sun was shining, and it was getting warm in the tent. We had heavy rain last night, so don’t know what to expect when we have to cross rivers later on.

At a large ger village, we were chased by three dogs, two black and one ginger. They ran along side the car for as long as they could, barking fiercely. Made their morning. Now back on yesterdays track, the one with the large pale stones. Tim knocked Landy out of gear by mistake as we splashed through some rain filled ruts. Very interesting manoeuvre followed.

Suddenly realise we are driving down the road, which was a raging torrent yesterday. Now dry, except for patches of mud. Unrecognisable. We found tracks where we had been towed out of the water. Further along, the banks have eroded greatly since yesterday.
Getting hotter. More difficult trying to phone Claire during the week. She is seldom home by 5pm, which is midnight for us. With early starts and long day’s driving ahead, we will be asleep by then.

Little quails waggling along. Just done over 15,000 kms now. Finally pass the place where we headed off to find the rock sculptures. On new territory now. Gritty sand. Tim closes window as it is blowing up his nose.

Heading first to Sevrei, then Dalandzadgad. We are just entering Gurvansaikhan National Park. Stony sand which crunches when you tread on it. Long mountain ranges, and vast steppes with not a living soul. Think there is a tall white bird standing close to the path. A bleached branch. Bones gleam in the sun. Nothing. Defensive driving required over patch of sand.

Tim declares, before we do another trip, we are getting new chairs. Ones which can hug your body more, and have much better head rests.

High cloud cover, keeping the sun off us and temperature down. Still hot when you step out of the car. We would love to have a proper picnic break today, but need to find more shelter.

Good news about our Chinese guide. He can fly to Inner Mongolia and be waiting at the border for us. We will have to have all the correct documentation prepared. We can take some stuff from Atle and Hilde, so freeing up a seat for him. We can lend him the ground tent, roll mats and sleeping bag. Sounds very promising, and very exciting.

Large bird of prey, first living creature for two hours. Spot a few gers ahead, nestling in the foothills. How do we cross the mountains, through passes or over? The people living here could have been watching our progress for hours. Climbing. Little boy resting on a plastics trike. Are those sliced open tyres to catch rain or dew?

Over the mountains. Turn on heater to help the engine. Stop at top. Hilde and Atle change drivers. Through very narrow gorge, and start descent. Copper in the stones. Very difficult to navigate, large stones litter the path. Turn a sharp bend, can we squeeze between those cliffs? Yes. But then we can’t get round huge fallen boulder. Back up. Tim forgets to take handbrake off, and we judder violently a few meters. Drives a lot better now.

Head towards another mountain range, but will head off East before we reach it. Should be time for lunch soon. Rain racing across towards us. Doesn’t look as ominous as yesterday. Atle says it seems as if the rain has followed use all the way from Europe. That’s why there is a heat wave at home.

It’s raining on us in the Gobi Desert. The woman serving fuel yesterday said they are experiencing unusually wet weather this year. Proper desert sand. No dunes though.

There are moments in your life that you will treasure for ever. We just had one. Actually stopped for lunch, in the Gobi Desert. Set up chairs and a table. We are eating our last tomato, with Marmite on sweet bread. Tim is making a real coffee. I have taken my shoes off, and bury my feet in the sand. A sand worm pops out, wriggles away, and buries itself again. As we start eating a motorbike turns up. A man and woman get off. We welcome them, they smile and shake our hands. I offer them some bread. They accept. Then they see the Marmite. I nod. How do you say in Mongolian, “you are very welcome to try, but you won’t like it”. They smother their bread. I offer them a slice of tomato. They bite in. What polite people. They munch their way through, then the man asks for drink. We give him a bottle of water, he gulps greedily. Next slice of bread has sweet jam on it.

We are travelling in opposite directions. We try to tell them where we are going. They hunker down, the man smokes a cigarette and they happily watch us clear away. I get the camera, and ask if they would like a photo. They smile. Nobody wear a crash helmet. The man has a leather hat on and the woman a tight wrap around face mask which only shows her eyes. She pats her hair down. They stand apart, but I have the big lens on, so motion them to move closer. They giggle. The photo is beautiful. They shake our hands as they are leaving. I give them a hug. I will never see them again, but they will remain in my heart for ever.

We have a mooch around. We are so privileged. The heavy downpour yesterday has drenched the sand. It is wet about 2cms down. Tiny, tiny seedlings are growing. They won’t have sprouted yesterday morning. How long have they been buried, waiting for this? Today’s rain may well bring out flowers. This is amazing. Atle shouts us over. Lying in the sand is the dessicated head of a wolf. It looks angry.

Why is my phone still an hour behind every other device? Set the alarms for this morning. Tim’s went off, mine would have given us another hour. Nobody is sure of what the time is. Come across an abandoned truck, back still full of bricks. Tim eyes up the doors. No good, they wouldn’t fit the Landy.

So far, I haven’t yearned for anything back home. Family and friends are following the blog, we have spoken to some, and we take them all with us everywhere we go. Some of our favourite food we have brought too. The aforementioned Marmite, Tim has his marmalade and we both enjoy the freshly ground coffee beans. I am not missing a deep bubbly bath, as showers, when we get them, are more refreshing and use less precious water. I don’t miss my house, soft furnishings, or posh clothes. I am travelling in my home, my furniture and clothing suit the terrain. I don’t even miss my beloved garden and chickens. The scenery and wildlife here enthral, and we don’t have to cut the grass. But, as we face another 80kms of this spine breaking, dusty, stultifying desert, there is one thing I crave. The salty smell of the sea stinging my nostrils. Aaahhhhh!!!!!

Real live sand dunes. We play. The boys race over in the Landys, one at a time. They both get stuck, have to pull each other out. Hilde and I run bare foot up the dune, sit on the blue plastic mat and try to sand surf. We get stuck, sand too wet underneath. Find a steeper slope. I manage it, but have to wriggle down part of it to get to bottom. Hilarious. We have been in the Gobi for three days now, and seen its changing scenery and witnessed rare weather. It is amazing.

Telegraph poles. Not seen those in over 24 hours. We were so remote last night. Today we have been driving for nearly nine hours, and have see two cars and two motorbikes. Nearly at Sevrie, at last. Wind generators. Many brick built homes and buildings. Not even trying bank. Graffiti. Little girl pushing sibling in buggy. Buddhist elephant statue. Mangy dogs.

Weather closing in, we have seen lightning. Don’t want to be caught on the flat desert floor if this hits. Bit scary. Plan to camp tonight, drive half a day tomorrow and find a hotel in Dalandzadgad. We all need to get clean, and our electrical gear needs a full charge. We have been wild camping in Mongolia for over a week.
On the lookout for shelter. Goats and kids standing in rusty water trough. We soon creep behind some rocks, nothing else available for miles. Set up camp and have dinner. Just as we are finishing, the wind picks up and it starts to rain. We scurry up the ladders just in time.

Monday 15th July 2013

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Bayangovi – Bayanlig

Up early. Late start. Waiting for the clothes to dry. Once again, washed, but not clean. Atle reads a contract, Hilde emails, Tim sorts ariel, I grind coffee beans. Busy, busy, busy. Not so hot in the Gobi yet, all wearing fleecies. Tim walks off with handset, hides behind a hillock. “Can you hear me?”

Hilde takes camera for photo shoot. She comes back with a magnificent pair of hand made, engraved scissors. Stone Age, we decide. Must have been left when people were packing up a ger settlement. Bet they miss them. I unearth a piece of pottery. Maybe from the Ming Dynasty? “Made In Korea.”

We missed the petrified forest by about 40kms, so not going back. Anyway, they don’t let you take any fossils home as a souvenir, so what’s the point. Heading further East. Hope to see rock engravings, Tsagaan Bulaag, but may miss those too.

Downloaded photos last night. Got great sequence of Hildefender splashing through deep, muddy puddles. Wouldn’t know we had the cars cleaned. Watched some of the videos from the muvi. Speeded up it looks awesome, death defying driving.

Tim not happy about transmission, going to keep in 1st gear and not use low range. If necessary, Atle will tow us. He’s been dying to try his new tow bar all holiday. As long as both cars are fit to drive when we reach the Chinese border, then we are ok. If one of us breaks down, the other will tow it to Hong Kong.

Tim wearing sleeveless vest, needs to ensure he doesn’t burn his shoulders. Also, dodgy zip on shorts, but he can keep an eye on that.

We were calculating how much water we have left. Enough to get us to UllaanBaatar on Thursday evening. That includes drinking, cooking, washing ourselves and clothes. If for some reason we get stranded in the desert, then we can survive for two weeks. No showers, hair wash or clean clothes. If desperate, will wash hair in beer – but we would have to be very desperate.

Warming up. Glad it is not in the 40’s though. Little goats herding themselves. A few more gers appearing. Only heard two motorbikes as we were having breakfast. We have nearly finished a pot of the more gorgeous yoghurt. Thick, creamy and only 15% fat. Must be good for us. We cooked for all of us last night, so four more packs of meals used up. Hilde cooking tonight. Guess what?

Bayangovi on plain below. Really hope we can see the rock engravings. Road ahead collapsed, try new track. Steepest angle yet, use feet to brace myself. May have squealed a little, or it could have been the brakes. More water splashing. Very slow progress. Couple on a motorbike. Approach village. We will try to get fuel, and ask about the state of the roads we are planning to drive on. Fear some may have been washed away. Woman coming out of launderette.

First fuel station not manned, but had diesel. Second one (wo)manned, but no diesel. Back to first. Woman with chubby baby sees us, and comes from house. She speaks English, and says roads ok. Hilde excited. Shop sells potatoes. Baby can’t see her mum, she starts crying. The more these strange foreigners try to placate her, the more she screams. Aunty comes to the rescue. We pay in dollars, very little local currency, Turghrik. Need bank or ATM. No change. Two sprouting potatoes.

Difficult to find route to next village, Bayanlig. Head to telegraph poles, but not convinced. Rain threatening. No tracks near poles. Lad on motorbike, not following a track, but following his goats. Back to where we started.

On edge of village large designated parking area, marked out in white stones. We’re off!! Many deep fissures, some we can traverse, others we have to find a way around. Tackled that one square on; feet braced again.

Bit concerned about speed of progress, but suddenly decide that if we don’t make Chinese Embassy on Friday, we can take at least two extra days travelling, and go there Monday morning. So stop worrying.

Put wedding ring back on, now swelling has subsided. We now have sand from the Sahara and Gobi deserts behind the sun visors. Path running parallel to telegraph poles. Didn’t need to go back into village. Twisting, interesting roads, threading in and out of poles. Driving to the left of them now.

Ariel repairs working well. From a distance, the terrain looks fairly flat and featureless. But up close is a different matter. Often we cannot tell where road goes. And we are bouncing every metre of the way. These rocks look like pumice stones. May get some to use on feet. Finally get on to what we now consider to be a main road. At home we would consider it a green lane.

Bayanlig is a large sprawling town. Modern cars, shiny motorbikes, school, bank, shops. Young drivers in shades. Wooden fences mark out property boundaries. Satellite dishes. Right hand drive Land Cruiser. Trendy young things in labels. Workmen in hard hats building prefabricated structure. Some rock engravings and petroglyphs are 40kms from here, at Bayanglin Nuruu. Shall we go?

Tim and Atle go into the bank. Disappear for over half an hour. Hilde goes to find them. No money. Change plans. Don’t like the look of the weather. Now heading to Sevrie in the Gurvansaikhan National Park. Too far to get there today now.

3pm here, 9am at home. Good luck with your last week at school and nurseries – Claire, Esme and Ned.

Off the plains and through steep sided gullies. Jagged rocks. Through and out on sandy plain. Black storm clouds seemed to have passed over. Pale boulders litter floor, smaller stones are black.

So. How do I explain the rest of this amazing day? The huge black clouds that had concerned us earlier, had left flash flooding in their wake. We came to our road, which had turned into a river. It was very fast, frothing, the water was brown and we had no idea how deep it was. A local couple on a motorbike had just sat down, smoking and waiting for the water to subside. We decided to go for it. Atle and Hilde went first. They forded at an angle, slowly, water lapping half way up the Landy. Made it. Now our turn. We go into the raging torrent and gradually creep across. Once on the other side, it is difficult to navigate, as the road has disappeared.

We have to cross a second time. By now, our low range is screaming. We decide we cannot use it any more, for fear of damaging the transmission. So, Atle has two attempts at getting out of the river. Success. We follow, can’t turn out into the river as far as we want, as we don’t know the depth of the water. Try to climb out at a steeper angle. We stall. Back end of Landy still in water. We just hang there. Atle gets a rope out and tows us up the bank. Good fun when it is all over, but bit scary at the time.

We travel on. We really want to see the rock engravings, so try to head there. The sat navs don’t have these roads on, and the paper map is not detailed enough to show contours. Hilde finds the co-ordinates in a book. We follow those. After a while we realise we are heading back towards the first river crossing. No problem.

Stop at a ger, to ask for directions. A little boy playing in the new stream which has suddenly appeared, stands stock still in shock. His two older sisters are inside, with grandparents. Hilde gives the boy a football, and we give some balloons to the girls.

Drive on. Think we are getting closer. A family is building a house. Atle asks if anyone could show us the way. A man and his wife jump on their motorbike and head off. They take us to the start of a gully, then stop, hold up five fingers and point ahead. We believe they are telling us to go that way for 5km. We thank them, and leave. Hilde tells us over the CB that we are getting close, and now only 4km to go.

When we arrive, we get out and look around. Not quite sure what we are looking for. All head off in opposing directions. Suddenly, we spot the engravings. People here 5000 years ago had lived, hunted, and drawn aspects of their life. They were amazing. Bears, deer, horses, men with hunting implements. We all crawled over the cliffs, soaking up the atmosphere and history of the place, wondering what the people would have been like, getting a little insight into their lives. It is difficult finding this treasure, even though it was in guide books and marked on maps. It was a true privilege to have been here. How many other foreigners a year see this amazing place?

We retrace out route for only a minute, and park up for the night. Huge sky overhead, crescent moon, stars and Milky Way. Can’t remember the last meal we cooked or ate
indoors. We have lost another hour today, now on UllaanBaatar time. We need an early start tomorrow. So early night. Brilliant day.