The civilisation

Roughing it

Finally!

It's sunday evening when the crossing of the last hill reveals the first shapes of the dream town of Ulaangom in the valley below.

Yes, I have finally reached a proper big city! The capital of the Uvs province - first of the three western provinces. The city of some 30000 inhabitants and beautiful and cheap prostitutes - as I am immediately told by my fellow passengers. 14$ for a whole night of a true Mongolian adventure! Who could pass on that? Especially when my guides can arrange everything..

Thanks. Sex is probably the last thing on my mind. Feeling completely worn out and still fairly ill to the stomach I long for nothing but a good hotel room, a hot shower and a warm bed. My guidebook lists seven hotels so I am sure there is one upto the western standards.

As we cross a river next to a bridge that is yet to be finished and probably has been in this state for a long time the city starts to take real contours. Four storey high apartement buildings pop up around us. Paved roads are a good sign, so is some sort of an industrial plant shaping up against the setting sun.

As I get off in the city centre leaving my compatriots with 15000 togrok as a gift they kept requesting and which definitely was not up to their expectations, judging by their facial expressions, I take a deep breath.

Ah, the smell of iron oxide. Indeed this is civilisation! I have never been so happy to breath in polluted air!

I reattach the sleeping mat and the tent to the backpack and throw it on my back. It feels strangely light after two days of not carrying it as I am walking down the street to one of the cheaper hotels my guidebook suggests.

The tarmac under my feet feels strangely homey. The happiness I am felling truly redefines the expression simple pleasures. Truly the prospects are good!

The first hotel visit ends up unsuccessfully since the hotel does not provide hot water. I am fairly tired but my mind is set for a long shower so I make my way to the next one discovering the place as I walk.

The city unfolds around the main road heading in the east-west direction. About a hundred meters westwards the main square features a bust of some local historical figure mounted atop of a thick concrete block. Behind it is a four storey building in communist era architecture still serving the people most probably as a town hall. Few lines of very unhealthy looking bushes along the sidewalk dividing the square from the main road are a welcoming sign in the otherwise very man-made looking place.

I walk further down and check two odd shaped buildings on the left sporting proportionally large Hotel signs. The first one turns out to be a completely deserted and falling apart site with few features still suggesting the former use as a hotel. The other one, elongated one storey structure with many paste-on additions introduced as the owner saw fit and money made feasible, is an incredibly overpriced sort of a home stay with rooms the size of a double-bed-and-a-bit. And no hot water.

No thanks. Few other hotels have apparently closed down - at least so I am told by the few locals I stop to ask. That leaves one more to go!

As I walk further away from the center it is getting really dark. The last traces of the day vanish and even though the streets are lined with street lights it is dark. Even when the electricity is not out they are rarely used - in fact in the few days to come, I do not see them lit once.

After walking around for 15 minutes not being able to locate the hotel I am starting to feel the weight of my rucksack and decide to turn back to hotel number one. I don't see this as a wasted enterprise since this way I at least know there is no better one.

As I walk back, choosing a slightly different route it is pitch black. Great, a perfect setup for getting mugged. The vivid imagery of the 'Nomrog experience' (by the way a good name for an album of experimental electronic music) comes to my mind and I increase the pace. I am anxious to be somewhere safe, cosy and homely.

I pass through a ger district again although taking a different route. I keep my eyes on the ground not to fall in one of those open sewers. A passing-by car shines its headlights my direction long enough to make sure that this fate does not await me for at least another 50 meters.

A local drunk shouts something my direction. Sure I have a cigarette. But not before I look around to make sure I am not being robbed by two of his more agile friends.

Soon enough I make it out of the dark of the ger district into the dark of the main road.

The city seems rather small. Not more then three by three kilometers I estimate. That's probably all that is needed for the population of 30000 living in these conditions.

The main square is now dimly lit by two queer looking poles crowned with led branches of all colors of the rainbow. Good taste is hard to come by in these lands...

The lights cast strange shadows on the few tens of people that have congregated here. I have no idea as to the purpose or the occasion but I don't feel comfortable enough to investigate. The strange gazes I get from a few passers-by are more then enough social contact as this point!

I finally arrive back at the hotel. Here are the keys. Thanks.

As I close the door the feeling of unease I've been having for the past half hour - well, for the past few days really - does not vanish as I hoped for. I think it'll need a good night's sleep to resolve my body and mind. I've been definitely down these last few days, I was just trying not to admit it.

I turn on the telly for some company - a miserable one, since Mongolian is not a very melodic language and no foreign channels are available, but company nevertheless.

Tired as I am I set a large pan of water to boil for my 'hot' shower and spend the waiting time by washing my clothes in the icy water that comes out of the taps.

It is really cold when I'm done with the shower. I am rubbing my towel hard against my skin to make the goosebumps go away. The hotel seems to have central heating but it is most probably reserved for January only.

Wrapped in two blankets, sipping the not-so-instant chicken soup (took 20 minutes to cook) and watching the second half of Braveheart in Mongolian I feel a hint of cosyness. For a moment I can let go of the hard realities of Mongolia and with the last sight of an axe dropping on the head of the strange sounding William Wallace I drift away into the comfortable realm of sleep.

-

The next morning still bears the traces of the unease and a certain feeling of being lost in this god forgotten land. It will need more than a good night's sleep to sort myself out I tell myself when I force my body out of bed at half past ten.

Today is the day I find out whether the decision to  continue my trip with the little money I had was a good idea or I should have had returned to the capital to get more out of an ATM.

As I queue in the first bank I feel very anxious. I keep thinking of how fucked I will be if this does not work out! But it does! And after walking out of the second bank with 150$ worth of the Mongolian currency I feel invigorated and on top of things again!

A long stroll around town in bright day light produces the photos below and after a lunch of a dish of the local cuisine I spend the rest of the day blogging away and chatting to friends on facebook. Nice to be in touch with friends again!

-

Ah, shy pretty girls. The ones that look away when you throw a smile their way.

I'm sitting at a pub after a failed five hour hitching session. The only highlight in this endless waiting was a man on a motorcycle with a sheep tied to his waist. No kidding!

At times like these I wish my mind was fresher to provide enough material to pass the time. But still it surprises me how the time passes when hitching. On my feet for four hours and not until then my mind starts complaining. It might be the two chill-out days I presented myself. Strange how little can do so much.

At any rate I am booked back at the hotel and sitting down in a pub waiting for some decent food to arrive.

I did pass on good company tonight though. First pub I stumbled upon welcomed me with two juicy bartenders singing karaoke in the empty bar. Giggling girls always set my mind straight. And more.. but unfortunately the kitchen was closed tonight so good bye and farewell. The man needs to eat!

The day wasn't a complete waste as it may seem though. I've met two jolly friendly Mongolians - one that gave me a short ride to the other. And the other who tried hard to find me a ride. He was in charge of the toll booth at the end of the town. (It costs money to enter and exit a town that has paved roads.) I bought him a beer and conversed a bit in Russian/Mongolian.

There's a promise of a ride tomorrow, no time specified, so it might turn out to be a long long day. But a ride all those 300 kilometers I am after.

-

Don't take advice on hitching from people who have never done it themselves!

There is a significant hitching custom in Mongolia since there is very little public transport here but still. These people want to get from A to B and don't understand that if you have a backpack with camping gear there are plenty of C's to go to in between.

And so after another five hour slightly debilitating wait on the old familiar spot I am finally in a car going only 40 kilometers to the spot where the roads split. But I am glad and merry being on the way again and when I am closing the door behind me in the gorgeous valley leading to the Ulaan Davaa mountain pass and sending an air kiss to the lady who got me here and not accepting any money I am rather thrilled.

I happily walk the 8 kilometers up hill towards the foot of the mountain range stopping plenty of times to enjoy the scenery. When I reach the top after two hours with no cars passing by during this time I am thinking of spending a night here.And after a somewhat bizarre encounter with a herd of camels and a short lived attempt to hire a horse from their herder I am forced to do just that.

The night is bitingly cold and I force myself out of bed early to make sure no cars leave without me!

Before I manage to finish packing my stuff a young Mongolian guy appears on a and agrees to take me where I'm going. Hundred kilometers on a back of a motorbike will be plenty fun and I am rather excited as I am hastily packing up the tent.

I am soon packed and with the backpack on my back sitting myself behind the driver. As he starts up the bike and make for the hill I can see his not very happy. After about 100 meters we stop and he shaking his head signals me to get off. 'This is not going to work', I can read from his face. We are too heavy and he is not willing to risk his bike for mere 30000 togrok we settled on.

Damn!

Oh well, ce la vie. I wave him goodbye and set for the mountain pass on foot. If nothing else I will reach the top, see the view and turn back for Ulaangom to try the other road south.

Before I am able to reach the top an old Russian van with two jolly looking brothers pops out from behind me and soon after I am on the road again.

Three hours of bumpy roads rolled up on top of the engine (no seat) situated between the drive and the passenger. We cross incredibly steep hills, vast valleys, pass nearby an ice cold lake with mountains on it's background and after crossing a little canyon we arrive onto a field of rocks vast as far as the eyes can see.

From there it is only down hill and I can see the Achit lake in the distance. After another two hours and a few stops in the gers of the brothers' relatives I change the jeep for a motorcycle driven by a teenage boy - a nephew to the brothers. And it is a joyride.. sliding on the rocks for 10 kilometers before arriving to Bochmoron.

The town is set between a row of tall reddish rock formations. It is full of Kazakh settlements which differ dramatically from the Mongolians. Most of the buildings are made of clay and concrete and traditionally have flat roofs. It is quite an interesting little town and I get a lot of friendly smiles as I walk through i. After stacking up on provisions I realise it is getting late and I have to push it if I want to arrive to the next town, some 6 kilometers away, tonight.

I am quite happy to walk and after asking some children for directions I set out. It shouldn't take more then an hour and a half which will leave me plenty of time to setup camp before it gets dark.

I am told by the locals that there is bus to my final destination - Bayan Olgii - tomorrow morning so I better make it there tonight. What I am not told however is that there is a river in between me and the village. Walking along the river bank for 10 minutes make me realise there will hardly be a bridge over it and so I take off my shoes and jump in with the rucksack on my back. Before I even catch a sight the other village I have to cross the river five times. And not because I got lost.

After the final crossing I find myself in the middle of the field that is turned into marshes. There is water everywhere around me and after zigzagging for a quarter of an hour I realise there is only one way forward.

And so I take off my shoes again, take off my pants as well, secure my rucksack firmly onto my back and get on with it.

As my right foot sinks twenty centimeters into the mud on the bottom of the stream I curse. The water is really cold and I am getting goosebumps as I walk around barefoot and cross five other streams. The few deep puddles to follow are much warmer and I try to ignore the distinct smell of animal urine.

It is getting really dark now and I am still quite far away from the village. It is no more as fun since I can barely feel my feet from the cold of walking barefoot. But there is no time to put shoes on if I am to make it through with the setting sun.

A few boys on horses come close but to observe the strange foreigner in his underwear. All attempts to get any help from them fail and I am forced to continue as I have sofar.

After another 10 minutes and the bottom half of my underwear wet I am finally on the other side. I rub my feet to get some sensation in them before I put the shoes on and continue semi-limping towards the village. Thank god there are only a few little streams left which I can cross with the little agility I have with my 15 kilos worth of luggage as I am.

Just as the sun disappears behind the horizon I am setting my camp up between two small rocky hills with an amazing view of the evening mist falling on the Nogonuur village in front.

Ah, today my hitching ends.. Tomorrow there's a bus and tomorrow I finally arrive to my final destination: the Kazakh Bayan Olgii with their horses and their eagle hunters. That is going to be something else!