Tuesday 16th July 2013.
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.