We woke early to enjoy a nice breakfast at the hostel before catching our bus to Tsetserleg at 8am. As soon as we had cleared the suburbs of UB it started snowing and after driving for ten hours through a stormy winter landscape we arrived at our destination (our lunch stop was particularly eventful where Alby met Snowpig behind the roadside eatery on a visit to the outhouse).




We settled down in an 80s-style cheap hotel room with a stunning view next door to the overpriced but popular western-run Fairfield guesthouse. After a dinner of some typical traditional (greasy) Mongolian food we hit the sack.

After enjoying some warm yoghurt and an apple which was slightly past its best in our hotel room we headed to the market where it took us less than ten minutes to fix ourselves a deal in a car that would bring us to Tariat, a village at the edge of the Tsagaan Nuur National Park that we would love to visit. Although he promised us that we would set off right away it took him more than two hours of faff (buying new soles for his shoes, picking up his toolkit, a car jack and another passenger and catching up with everybody he knows, all in different places dotted around town) before we were really on our way.

A very bumpy 3,5 hours later we arrived dusty and tired in Tariat where our driver drove directly to a house where a woman that could speak English lived. Although he nor we knew who she was, she got in our car and made communication for everyone a whole lot easier – we agreed for our driver to take us all the way to Tsagaan Nuur (the Great White Lake) if he could also fix us a cosy but cheap ger on the lakeshore… Challenge accepted! 



Two hours later we found ourselves already lighting the stove in our new little home. We enjoyed a more than stunning sunset above the lake and had selfmade dinner and hit the sack.

After a good night’s sleep (although we had to use the blankets of five beds to keep us warm) we woke up with our favo breakfast… hot porridge! We got dressed warmly and set off for today’s mission: a hike to the Korgo Uul volcano crater. Since Alby felt like making it a “special adventure” we spent almost two hours crossing an extremely bumpy but very impressive field of sharp volcanic lava rocks, after which we bumped into a comfortable path that led to the crater as well. 



The view from the crater was simply awesome. The crater was too big/deep to capture in one photo and wowed us with its intimidating scale. We decided we wouldn’t find a better location for lunch and enjoyed our pack-up on the spot. Having found the path on the way up we followed it back down and around to the other side of the mountain where our walk should have started.

On the way back to our ger we encountered a massive herd of goats, sheep and horses returning from the lake for a drink, accompanied by horse-mounted shepherds. We had a cosy evening of keeping the fire going and reading books in our ger, the only one still standing in another desolate tourist camp closed for winter.

As we cooked our morning porridge we were joined in a surprise visit by the couple who owned the ger who popped by to collect our debts. After turning their nose up at our tasty gruel (thankfully since we didn’t have an awful lot) they departed as did we for a morning wander along the North shore of the beautiful frozen lake. 





Bitterly cold we made it a short one and luckily returned to the ger for an early lunch and to pack our rucksacks. Our driver appeared with his mate two hours earlier than we had agreed, but with little else to do we decided to set off back to Tsetserleg. In our driver’s typical faffy fashion we stopped off at his friends house to eat some greasy mutton and to pick up a couple of mystery guests…



Tired but satisfied we arrived back in Tsetserleg where we went straight to our favorite hotel and ended the day with a delicious beer and a dinner in a cosy Mongolian ‘pub’. Since we had heard that Tsetserleg is one of Mongolia’s prettiest aimag capitals we decided to spend the next day exploring its beauty. First stop was an interesting but slightly overrated aimag museum filled with traditional Mongolian weapons, musical instruments, artwork and an entire ger. Obviously this place had already started its hibernation since the caretaker happily unlocked each hall of the museum for us to enter and quickly locked them again in succession after we’d finished in each one. We wandered the steps up a Buddhist monastery, situated on a hill overlooking the town, appreciating the view before heading to Fairfield Cafe (an excellent lunch place attached to the overpriced hostel next to our hotel) for a tasty and huge lunch. Full of food we decided to take it easy for the rest of the day and wandered through the black market housed in several shipping containers. We picked the same Mongolian pub from the night before to drink some tea and read our books and made it an early night.

At 8am we already found ourselves on a bus headed towards Harhorin, Mongolia’s ancient capital. Although there is not much left from the capital’s glory days, one of the only monasteries to survive the Stalinist purges still stands (only just) at the edge of the town, which is also what brought us here. After installing ourselves in a new – this time urban – ger and discovering the tiny village center and all its facilities we had lunch and set off to the Buddhist monastery.



Unbeknownst to us the three temples left standing were closed because it was a weekend, but fortunately there was a ceremony taking place in the main temple so we had a glimpse inside. As we shyly stood by the door and watched in awe as young monks ritually read sutras and older monks chanted prayers we all of a sudden were offered a big bowl of something that on first sight looked like milk tea. On closer inspection, using the taste test, our stomachs gave their veto… We were experiencing airag, Mongolia’s national drink, consisting of fermented and therefore slightly alcoholic and fizzy horse milk – a taste comparable to normal milk that’s been in a student fridge for a month too long. Paralysed and slightly panicked at the thought of having to finish our liter of airag we stood there trying to be polite and grateful, until a 10-year old monk recognised the fear in our eyes and relieved us of our bowls. To avoid new encounters with this local delight we decided to head back to our ger for a lovely eve.

Because our previous bus journeys all went so smoothly it was high time to be treated to some transport karma. Despite arranging us two ‘seats’ in a bus from Harhorin to Mongol Els, our next destination, we ended up sitting on top of cardboard boxes and water carriers in the narrow aisle of the coach, unable to see anything. 



Both quite carsick we arrived at Mongol Els, happy that the ride only took a couple of hours. As the bus drove away we were treated to our first glimpse of the only sand dunes which are not located in the Gobi desert and headed towards the nearest ger camp we could see. 



After a short bargaining session we settled down in what must be the most luxurious of all the gers we have stayed in, complete with mirror, (non-functioning) light, slippers and a very naughty 3-year old girl. We found her cute until she slapped Alby right in the face, at which point we made her cry by moving the wailing siren away from our ger. 



After enjoying a small midday fire (which was lit by our host with a blow torch) we went outside to go explore the dunes. After a couple of hours plodding up and skipping down the sandy hills we headed back for our usual evening ger routine and round two with the devil child.

After a relaxed morning making toast on the stove and sipping coffee we wandered back to the main road to wait for the daily bus to UB that we had hopped off the day before. Within ten minutes a car stopped and offered us two seats to UB for the same price at the bus – our decision was made easy by the infinite improvement in comfort we hoped to experience. Luckily our hopes were fulfilled and after a comfy ride with a 3-year old co-passenger who spent the whole time cuddling the sweets we gave her in a pair of very sticky hands we arrived in UB. After another good meal at our favorite Japanese place we returned to our faithful hostel and went to bed.

18 October 2013

After a long sleep and a tasty yoghurt and fruit salad breakie we were chillaxing on the couch of our favorite guesthouse looking forward to a relaxed rest day, when all of a sudden we promptly decided to dive into a new adventure. Together with two Swiss girls and a mom we shared the cost of a jeep and driver from the guesthouse and headed to Hustain National Park, hopeful to see the Mongolian wild Takhi horses. This is a trip that was on our ‘must see’-list, but so far we hadn’t found anyone to share the cost with. 

After a two-hour drive we found ourselves in the middle of the rugged mountainous landscape, home to the last remaining ancestral species of horsekind. We were very lucky, right after acquiring a park guide from another group of visitors his eagle eyes spotted a group of seven Takhi horses, nestled in between mountains a mile away. Our driver brought us as close as he could and despite a 500m walk through an arctic and snowy (apocalyptic) headwind we were able to stand only 50m away from them! We appreciated their beauty from up close, including the stunning scenery we found ourselves in, until our toes and fingers were frozen off and we hurried back to the van. 

On the way back to base camp Clara took advantage of her “where’s Wally”-skills and spotted another solitary Takhi in the distance, apparently abandoned by the group due to his old age. After a late lunch at base camp we got to enjoy the tiny park museum which described how the species was reintroduced in the early '90s and made our way back to UB before sunset. Although the boundaries of the park are unfenced the horses mostly stay in the 500sq km area and are shepherded back towards Hustai by local herders and nomads living on the outskirts of the park is they stray too far. These local communities keep an eye over the Takhi population, a total of only 300 horses, by keeping foal hungry wolves at bay and are employed by the park as guides for visitor groups.





Due to one of the Swiss girls falling in we went out for a tasty Japanese dinner with the other and then retired to our beds after a long but satisfying day.

15 - 17 October 2013

After our cold hiking and camping adventure in the Kovsghol Nuur region it became clear that Alby had hurt his Achilles tendon... a couple of days of rest and relaxing were more than welcome. We discovered that we wouldn't have to pull ourselves through another wrecking bus journey to find some peaceful Mongolian nature, since the region around UB itself has got some very zen places. We picked Gorkhi-Terelj National Park and the Tuul Gol valley, only 70km away from the capital. As we researched the ger camp options the Dutch-Mongolian Ecocamp of Bert - a cheesemaking Dutchman - caught our eye and we decided to go for it. Whilst planning this little detox trip we made friends with Andrew in our hostel, an English dude traveling around Asia, who decided to join us! Happy as we were to leave tomorrow for a chilled short trip we all hit the sack.

We got up on time the next day to do the necessary – but pleasant – food shopping for the trip. We discovered the scoop of fresh yoghurt from a massive bucket you can get in the supermarket! At 12 we hopped on the bus towards Terelj together with Andrew. As we left the high rise buildings of UB city center we drove through the rocky snowy suburbs speckled with gers. We entered the national park and drove for another 50km before we arrived at the UB-2 Hotel at the edge of the Terelj village. As Bert’s clear instructions had told us we got off there, crossed an iron bridge and there was Bert – a noisy Dutchman lost in Mongolia – waiting to pick us up with his 4x4. After a ride through ice, snow, streams and thick mud we arrived at Bert’s ger camp where he showed us our ger. Given its location a few kilometers outside Terelj, the camp was remote and blissfully tourist free – only one other ger was occupied.
 

The many ‘adopted’ street dogs and Bert’s extensive herd of cows were constantly around to keep us company and fill the valley with their howling/barking/cowing. After getting installed we went for a first wander. As Alby insisted on getting a decent overview over the Tuul Gol valley right away, we climbed a nearby hill and got rewarded with a stunning view. We descended back to our ger at a sunset that filled the sky with soft and gorgeous colors. After cooking ourselves a tasty pasta, we put some wood on the stove and went to bed with our books.

We woke later than usual after a chilly night and multiple restarts of the fire throughout it to find Andrew’s bed empty (he already took off to climb the nearest ridge line). After a tasty breakfast with Bert’s real Dutch cheese made on site (!) we went outside to explore the valley floor. A gentle wander found us back at base for a picnic lunch and with itchy (and slightly painful in Alby’s case) feet we set off again and explored the frozen Tuul Gol and surrounding hamlet of hidden gers inhabited by other cow herders in the valley. That evening we cooked a tasty rice dish with tinned fish courtesy of Andrew, and after a cup of instant milk tea, which is actually pretty tasty, we chatted until late before topping up the stove and hitting the sack.

We awoke again to a delicious cheesy breakfast after a cold but better night’s sleep – all of us were up at some point stuffing wood or shoveling cole into the cheap stove in the middle of the ger. We went for a final wander to say goodbye to the valley before returning to feed ourselves (and the pack of dogs) lunch and pack our rucksacks.


Since Bert was away and with no way of crossing the boggy marsh between the camp and Terelj (where we would catch our bus back to UB), Bert’s Mongolian wife had kindly arranged a lift on the back of the local ox-cart/taxi for us. We loaded our packs (which were secured in place by a particularly weak looking piece of twine, similar to those brandished by enthusiastic Peruvian ‘taxi’ drivers when presented with kayaks to transport) and set off, at a surprisingly slow pace, for Terelj.

 

Andrew was tasked with finding a good branch for our ox driver to use to hurry us along (an easy task for a tree surgeon) but on his return with a rotten twig which snapped immediately he was laughed off the cart to try again. Despite our thirsty ox stopping at every frozen river he did a good job as we made it on time for the bus at 4pm. A congested ride into UB saw us return by the evening in time for a much needed shower at the hostel. We headed out to find a cheap Mongolian dinner in a nearby pub before returning for an early night.