Tuesday 9th July 2013<\/p>\n
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Happy Birthday Will.<\/p>\n
We wake up in sunshine, in Mongolia. There is a heavy frost. Large ducks, Shel Ducks?, are making a noise like a truculent teenager. Huuuh. The Russian is swimming in the lake. Later, he gives Tim a present. A Russian Army fold -up shovel. A real work of art, in its own bag. He tells us he lives in Siberia. He has a pent house apartment in Bernaul, and a house deep deep in the forest 25k away. Much better. German in “house car” drives past. He must have camped in the border village.<\/p>\n
We breakfast, just before the hordes. Only children this morning, the men will be sleeping off a hangover. Tidy away. The older boy sees a book of Mongolia. I get it out for them. One by one they pour over the photos, entranced. Then I get out a map, they spread it on the bonnet and spend ages looking at it. One girl reads our sticker, including the English “and back again”. A little squint eyed boy asks for chocolate. I count the children. Six. The chocolates given to us yesterday are huge and wrapped in shiny paper. Six. They grab their treat. On, no. A girl was round the other side of Hilde’s car. I remember a bag of melted chocolate buttons. She grins. Every child drops the shiny wrappers on the floor as they walk away. Every child picks them up again, as Tim and I both revert to Head Teacher mode in unison. Can’t help ourselves.<\/p>\n
The Swiss couple are ready to go. Tim and Atle compare Landys. He has a tank that holds 280l of fuel, and can carry 60l of water. Except he can only carry 30l as the container has a leak. We tell him where they are planning to go has been closed off, due to illness. The Russians come across. Photo, he barks. He takes a couple. Hilde takes one, on sport mode. We give the Russians a bottle of wine. “Russians, big heart”, he says.<\/p>\n
Time to go. Tim notices a crack on the windscreen, driver’s side. Do Auto Glass come out this far? Red kite mobbing a Golden Eagle. Saw our first real life, genuine Yaks. Head off to Khovd. We may see the National Games there. We can take our time. Plan to stop for coffee, and lunch. This morning no one set an alarm. We woke up when it was getting warmer in the tent. Luxury. We also plan to stop before dark, but how many times have we said that?<\/p>\n
There is a new gravel road running alongside the old dusty track. Track much better to drive on. Head feeling much better this morning, but not completely right. Gravel road not been flattened out yet, just piles of stones. Still on Russian time, don’t know when it changes. Want to phone Will, but only 5am at home.<\/p>\n
Hard to navigate, as tracks go off all over the place. We will have to stop and talk to others.
\nDecide we are headed in the right sort of direction, we should be travelling along the Southern Route, and we are near enough. Sat nav totally confused. She will probably spend the next few weeks recalculating herself.<\/p>\n
Meet up with the French Land Cruisers, but only two of the three. We all head off left, and soon get back on track. Don’t want to follow them all the way, as they are going to the Gobi Desert.<\/p>\n
Many yurt villages set up for road workers. New road suddenly has asphalt. We join it. Try to get photo of eagle, only get clouds. Asphalt ends abruptly, startled workers look at us. We crunch down a very steep incline. Good old Landy. Think we were the first cars to travel that road.<\/p>\n
Rejoin the main road. Sat nav happy. So are we. This is just how we imagined Mongolia. The steppes, the yurts, the yaks, the mountains. Simply stunning. Over breakfast we admitted that all our planning had been about getting here. Now what? We know we have to be in UlaanB next week. We want to share some of the sporting fixtures. Then, we come across two humped camels, Bactrian. They look down on us, haughtily, then when they know they have been photographed, they move away.<\/p>\n
Not far from Olgii, where we may stop. I would love a coffee, may help my head. The roads are so good, we are travelling at over 100kph, we decide to drive on for another hour, or until the road turns bad. Entering Olgii there is an actual road sign. Children in Welles, paddling in puddles. Irish Restaurant Pub. Really?<\/p>\n
Once again, new road runs out. Six or seven tracks run parallel. We leap frog over them, just for fun. Climb to top of rise, but too windy to light pocket rocket. Drive over to a tumbled down shelter. No better. NORs cook pizza on manifold. It takes too long. We have a sticky bun each, and share an apple. Not Jazz, more like Pink Lady. Tim knocks back steps into place, and retracts side ones. Lost the tow bar cover. Didn’t get a hot drink after all.<\/p>\n
Sat Nav keeps saying off route, but how do we know which track is correct? Drive along a large lake. Keep hopping on and off the road under construction, still bumpy though. Men building bridges. Family with Eagle tied to a post. A man with eagle tied to wrist.<\/p>\n
Following a British Landy with a trailer. We all stop, take photos, exchange stories and routes. We have used some of the same border crossings. The young woman had been patted down by a butch female guard at one. Hilde and I look at each other and laugh. She mustn’t have fancied us then!!! We share other experiences too. All got ill in the same country, and the woman was bowled over by the Pamir, in TJ. Must be a girl thing, maybes the plight of the children. The couple have been travelling for six months, and plan to emigrate to Australia. We may meet up in evening.<\/p>\n
We soon lose sight of them. Through a pass, then put onto the steppes again. Many days we have been travelling, and turning through 360 degrees, we only see eachl other. We splash through deep water, at least the underneath of the cars will have a wash. Buses do this route. We see two of them. If we choose the wrong track, we can be miles off route in a very short time. All checking maps and GPS, keep in radio contact, or stop if not sure.<\/p>\n
If I don’t wash my hair tomorrow, it is officially a BHD. Probably need a shower too. Was difficult this morning washing your bits and bobs, with a gaggle of giggling children all around. Boy with a squint would have seen it all double.<\/p>\n
Medical checkpoint. The area we have driven through is infected, carried by animals. We all have to walk over a disinfected mat. Stuff is squirted into out mouth. We spit. Glad I have been practicing. Wash our hands. They spray the wheels, take down details from our passports and vehicle. A woman speaks English. But when we ask what infection is it, so we know to look out for symptoms, suddenly she doesn’t understand. Black Plague.<\/p>\n
A pile of sheep, all sitting on each other. Lots of vans and small lorries, stuffed full of families. Groomed horses in the back. Travelling to the Nadaam. Big gathering of locals, camping by the river with their animals. Whole communities on the move. A group of young, very drunk horsemen block our path. They lean in the windows, shake our hands and ask for vodka. We have none.<\/p>\n
Thump down so hard the radio pops out. We think we have found a perfect camping place, under a tree and by a stream. But we would get bitten to death. We ford a river, but still nowhere fly free. We move on, and will try to pull off the road further up. No gers or settlements around. We pull off main road, and skirt a rocky outcrop. Atle and Hilde head off. We are having trouble with low range, and get well and truly stuck down a gully. We try to get out, but can’t. If we were on our own we would have had to dig out under the rear wheel, with our new Russian shovel, and maybe use the sand ladders. But we try to call the others on the radio. No reply. I put mossie stuff on, and my hood, and walk off to find them. They are completely out of view. I try to remember all I have learnt about tracking from Ray Mears. I see no tyre tracks or dust or flattened vegetation to give me a clue. I get to top of rise. Nothing. I shout very loud. Nothing.<\/p>\n
Tim continues to dig, then hears Atle’s voice on the radio. Help is at hand. It takes less than a minute to get us out, and we remember to have someone co-ordinating the operation from outside the cars. Hilde co-ordinates and I take pictures.<\/p>\n
We arrive at the top of a rise, in brilliant sunshine, with spectacular views in every direction. Set up camp. Tim and I are cooking the first of our organic, prepared meals, tomato and chickpea tagine. Two minutes later, we are caught in a violent storm. We all hold on to awnings and windbreaks. I even have to hold down the ladders of the tent, so it doesn’t blow away. We laugh like idiots. As quickly as the storm came, it abates. Nothing damaged. Climb out of wet clothes and into warm, cosy technical gear. Resume cooking, and open the bubbly!!!!!! At last.<\/p>\n
Try to contact Will on sat phone. He doesn’t pick up. Tim leaves a message. I text, but no signal. Well, Happy Birthday Will, anyway. All our love.<\/p>\n
As I walk round the Landy, I see the children had written “Good luck” in the dust.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tuesday 9th July 2013 Happy Birthday Will. We wake up in sunshine, in Mongolia. There is a heavy frost. Large ducks, Shel Ducks?, are making a noise like a truculent teenager. Huuuh. The Russian is swimming in the lake. Later, he gives Tim a present. A Russian Army fold -up shovel. A real work of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1014","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-mongolia"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p3bX1q-gm","jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1014","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1014"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1014\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1081,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1014\/revisions\/1081"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1014"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1014"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapetim.co.uk\/mongolia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1014"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}