Sunday 21st July 2013
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.