Hello (Sain Bainuu in Mongolian). We only bloody made it to Mongolia!!!!!! Sorry the blog is so late. We have struggled to find Wifi in Mongolia. Instead however, we have found the heart of the trip and dreams have become reality. Mongolia is a wonderful country. It feels like an ancient land, all weathered and old, and full of mystery and promise. Also the people are some of the most wonderful and generous we have experienced and there is so much to see and do. I for one have been really surprised. Ed I his wisdom, knew it all along, planning all the while to spend the summer in this magnificent land. So what have we been doing? Well, for the most part, trying not to get lost or stuck in the mud / sand. We really have been bold in Mongolia and thankfully luck has been on our side (as well as Ed’s highly skilled driving)… It could have gone either way however. Mongolia is not a country to mess around in and take risks. The distances between towns are huge and the land is largely remote. Also we came to realise that most of the vehicles here are small 4x4’s and very few (if any) vehicles could have rescued us if we’d got stuck. It became more and more apparent that the truck would have to be abandoned if this was such an eventuality, which was difficult to accept and definitely gave us some sleepless nights. Don’t worry though. We made it. We definitely did get stuck in the mud, but we have survived to tell the tale, and the first three weeks go something like this…….. It seems a little while ago now, but before we made it to the Mongolian border (for the crossing on the 25th June), just 50km from the border we got stuck in a salty quicksand pit, which in actuality was a good lesson learned before heading into Mongolia. We had pulled off the main tarmac road in search of a camp spot for the night. The ground looked firm and Ed swung the truck around to begin driving up an off road track to the hills where we could be out of sight of the main road. Ed put on the breaks as he realised we had hit some soft ground. When he tried to carefully reverse out of it, the right rear wheel sunk into the mud. We hopped out to check the damage and realised we had sunk almost a metre into the ground. You could step straight into the back of the truck without the ladder! It was ridiculous! We both shook our heads in disbelief as the ground all around us was firm….. Ed started digging out the back wheel and the earth underneath the large diesel tank. Luckily the ground was really soft and it didn’t take him too long. Next, we scanned the area for something to winch off, eyeing three redundant wooden telegraph poles next to the main road! We were literally only about 80m from the gleaming tarmac, so all passers-by could see us. This was slightly embarrassing, but at the same time extraordinarily useful. As Ed was getting the winch ready, a man in a silver vehicle (with two small children) approached us and got out to help. By this point, Ed had lost one of his flip flops on route to the redundant telegraph pole which were sat in a black wet bog. The nice man who had come to help, rolled up his trousers and climbed in the bog with Ed, helping him to attach the winch strops to one of the telegraph poles. All the while I was filming the action next to the truck. Ten minutes later, Ed had successfully removed all three redundant telegraph poles and the truck hadn’t budged an inch! His legs were black with bog mud and the mosquitoes had arrived to add insult to injury. The local man however had a plan, and (not speaking a word of English) he conveyed to Ed that he knew someone with a tractor, and so he got on the phone. Ed agreed a price with him first and soon after he had hopped back in his silver car, promising to return. The sun had been beaming on us all afternoon, but by now the skies were darkening dramatically and we could hear thunder rolling in the distance. It worried us a little, as if it rained, we were unlikely to escape the mud and could be stuck here for a little while longer. Almost as soon as the silver car had disappeared however, the front of a HGV arrived (called the ‘tractor unit’) and the lads driving it agreed to attempt to winch us out (again for a price; about £10 eqv.). I got filming again as Ed connected the cable to the back of their vehicle. They were attempting to pull us from the back of the truck as they were afraid of also getting stuck if they approached the boggy ground from the front. After a few tugs it appeared futile (as Ed had predicted). Subsequently as I continued filming the failing attempts, an iconic moment occurred. One that Ed will remember (and cherish) forever (remember he is obsessed with Russian Trucks). Suddenly a massive beast of Russian metal on wheels approached the scene; a six wheel drive Ural Tanker, military green and being manoeuvred by a bald Russian in military garb. What were the chances! He hopped out and Ed greeted him literally grinning from ear to ear. Within minutes lots of hammering ensued at the end of the Russian Ural (opening the toe-hitch) and soon Ed was hooked up and ready for a yank! With absolute ease, seconds later (once the Ural had engaged 6 wheel drive), the truck popped out. It was hilarious and Ed was so pleased to be rescued by such a vehicle! The Russian chap didn’t want any money. He just wanted to offer his services. Ed was still smiling days and weeks afterwards (even as I write this)…. Lol. After the Russian Rescue Mission, we finally found a quiet spot for the night (off road on hard ground) and after watching the rescue video a few times, finally settled down for the night. On Wednesday 25th June we finally crossed the border into Mongolia... a dream come true for Ed. The border crossing took about five and a half hours all told. This was mainly a result of a family of 20 people ahead of us dumping a pile of passports on the desk of the border guard moments before we got there, and because the ‘entire’ Mongolian border (every one of it’s staff!) closed for lunch for one hour from 1pm – 2pm. Also worth a mention, the Mongolian borders are shut on weekends. On the Russian side, Ed sauntered in to the Russian passport control office just as the border guard was shouting at the man with the 20 passports. As soon as Ed was spotted, the border guard actually grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and chucked him out of the office! I came to explore and more shouting occurred as we waited patiently for an hour outside the office (with a Kyrgyz overlander on a motorbike). When it was finally our turn the border guard processed our passports in silence (thankfully) and once complete he threw them across the table towards us (charming), indicating we could go on our way. There was about 20km of Russian border land before we crossed another checkpoint into no-man’s land and a further 10km to the Mongolian border where we hung around for 2 hours (due to the Mongolian lunch hour). The Mongolian side actually only took 45 minutes. And then we were in Mongolia. The land of the eternal blue sky, nomads, dirt tracks and the five snouts (horse, cow/yak, goat, sheep and camels!). After acquiring the vehicle insurance and exchanging dollars for Mongolian currency we headed to the nearest town on gravel tracks (a road in construction from the border, but far from finished). It was time to get used to this fact and embrace sand, mud and grass as our new road surfaces… At the first town near the border, we were very soon being followed by a local wearing a black leather jacket riding a red motorbike. Ed wound down the window and the (inquisitive) young man wanted to offer his services to us in the form of a guide. We chuckled at his eagerness, but kept saying no. He did however give us an important tit bit of information regarding the track we were planning to take north to a large lake called Ureg Nur. Apparently due to recent rain the road was unnavigable and two American tourists had become stuck in the mud earlier that day. We thanked him for his information, but undeterred he continued to follow us on his bike. As we attempted to evade him, heading out of town towards the Olgi road, a white Mercedes Sprinter driven by Swiss overlanders approached us, so we instantly pulled over to say hello. While we were having a conversation (through the cab window), more locals on motorbikes turned up, checking out the truck and just ‘staring’. It was all a bit odd. Being a border town, the locals were savvy to tourists it seemed. The Swiss couple (Lydia and Andre) were absolutely wonderful, so we decided to camp for the night with them (next to a lake just out of town) and subsequently spent the evening sharing tea and biscuits in the truck, and stories of the road. Lydia and Andre had already been through Russia and Mongolia and were working their way back via the Stan’s from whence we had arrived. We swapped maps, books, photos, advice and news of the roads. It was so wonderful chatting to them and they advised us on the best bits of Mongolia they had seen, helping us decide which roads (tracks) to take. The following morning Lydia and Andre invited us for coffee in their van and we whiled away another couple of hours chatting merrily. They were the friendliest most genuine people and invited us to stop over in Switzerland on our return journey to the UK, and so we could return each-others books and maps and catch up on our individual adventures. With beaming faces we waved them goodbye and began our own Mongolian adventure…. They were so sweet and hopped out of their Mercedes sprinter waving us off enthusiastically in the middle of the road. From Thursday 26th June it would take us 13 days to get to the capital Ulaanbataar via the northern roads. But what roads, what scenery. Mongolia is a special place indeed. Our diverted route on Thursday 26th June, took us to the most remarkable lake and surrounding scenery we had witnessed so far on the trip. We chuckled as we drove into the ‘nothing’ following dirt tracks that spun in all directions, sometimes ten of them running parallel with each other simulating a Mongolian super-highway. It was unnerving and exciting all at the same time. Thankfully we had a trusty GPS (Thanks Jeroen!) and fantastic mapping software, so we could record our tracks in Mongolian space and ensure we could retrace our route if we got lost! The only down-side to this amazing plan, was that the 12volt transformer in the cab which supported the car charger had frazzled and exploded in Kyrgyzstan! Subsequently we had no power supply in the cab to keep the lap top charged, so every 4 hours or so, we would have to stop and charge the laptop in the back! On the upside however, this meant more R&R stops for tea and biscuits, so we weren’t complaining too much, but when you calculate the distance covered in a 10 hour driving day and realise its only 100km, it’s a bit worrying! We got to the point where we didn’t want to care too much about that (even though we had a deadline to be in the capital by the 8th July), we just wanted to relax and soak up Mongolia. On the afternoon of Thursday 26th June, after passing through a beautiful rocky valley following the meandering River Khovd and over a rocky desert-steppe plain so remote it sent a few shivers up our spines, we arrived at a Lake called Achit Nur. White Ger’s (referred to as Yurts in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan) dotted the lakes edge and the five snouts grazed freely the green grass. Up on high, we approached the lake from a magnificent vantage point from the south-east. The lake was set within a huge bowl shaped valley surrounded (to the south) by a rim of fantastic salmon pink granite hills which had been weathered into rounded nobbly crags. We parked the truck up next to one of the granite monoliths and walked along the pink rocks looking down into the stunning valley. Layer upon layer of mountains rose beyond the lake to the north and west. To the east the sun glinted on yellow sand dunes puckered with black boulders and dark menacing rocks, and to the south-east, lush green grass shone brightly in the wonderful Mongolian light. In the centre of it all, a deep blue lake reflected the mountains, rock and sky, framed by the wonderfully weathered pink granite rocks on which were perched. It was stunningly beautiful. The evening light cast new shadows and colours and we literally sat upon the nobbly granite for hours staggered by scene below, all the while enjoying the warm Mongolian breeze on our faces. Adding even more drama, black clouds approached from the south and a wonderful rainbow appeared, followed quickly by a lightening storm. Mongolia was putting on a show for us, and we loved every minute of it taking some of the best photos of the trip. Ed insisted we sit outside drinking tea until the scenery had finally faded into darkness. So in the rain punctuated by lightening, we watched the sun set over Achit Nur. The following morning (Friday 27th June) we were greeted by a young nomad on a small brown horse. He had obviously spotted us from the Ger camps below and had led his heard of goats and sheep up to see us. He had a friendly darkly tanned face and simply stared first at Ed and then at the truck. He was especially interested in watching me put the breakfast stuff away and seemed content to linger at the door while Ed tried to communicate with him. It was impossible to guess his age. I hopped out of the truck with the polaroid and took a picture of him standing alongside Ed and his horse, passing him the photo as it developed. He seemed pleased. Ed (with hilarious hand actions) asked him if the grass was good here and whether his herd were fattening up nicely (hehe). Apparently this is one of the nicest things to ask a nomad and the young man seemed extraordinarily pleased with Ed for enquiring about us animals. A huge smile broke over his face. After our first nomadic encounter we drove around the eastern shore of the lake and then north to another slightly larger lake called Ureg Nur. The skies clouded over as we approached it, once more from a vantage point, and from the south. The road before the lake was rocky with alpine scenery of larch / coniferous forest and fresh green grass sprinkled with Edelweiss and wonderful lilac flowers similar to a daisy but much larger (we think they were Asters). The view of the milky blue waters of Ureg Nur came into view. It was serene and pretty, but the wonderful drama of Achit Nur had spoiled us. The pebbly shores of the lake were buzzing with flies, so we camped a little way up the valley looking down on the lake and were soon visited by two nomads and a small child on a motorbike. You can’t hide from anyone in Mongolia. The two men and son came to shake our hands and look at the truck (and us) with interest. Ed showed them around and we got one of our maps out indicating to them how far we had driven to get to Mongolia. They couldn’t get enough of the truck (being boys) and they all climbed inside the cab including the little 5 year old son. He had no problems climbing up the steps! - Very impressive. The father of the little boy asked us (we think) if we had any children. We shook our heads and then jokingly he passed his five year old son over to us indicating we should take him with us! It was an interesting thing to have done and we wondered if there was some seriousness behind it as perhaps he thought his son could have a better life away from this beautiful place. An easier life may, but not necessarily a better / happier one we pondered later. After a little while the motorbike mounted nomads left and we settled down for the evening. On Saturday morning we dropped down to the lake edge. It was a glorious sunny morning, so we decided to walk a little around the lake and dip our toes in the lovely cold water. There was also a lagoon and some pretty pebbly beaches along the south-eastern shore where we lingered for a while watching a rocky island within the lake covered in black cormorants and huge seagulls chatting away noisily. It suddenly felt like we were at the seaside. Ed also enjoyed himself skimming stones and looking out for fish. We spotted a few large black ones, but Ed wasn’t sure what they were. The remainder of the day was spent driving east through a tremendous grassy valley with ochre red soil covered either side with bright purple wild irises. The wonderful road dropped down steeply revealing what looked like an expansive blue sea on the horizon. As we descended further we realised we were dropping down into a flat plateau on route to our first large Mongolian town; Ulaangom. The view to the east was simply magnificent as we descended into the valley. The vastness of the land spread out for miles and miles. I don’t think my eyes have ever seen so far in my life. It was as daunting as it was awesome and we just kept drinking in the spectacular epicness that is Mongolia. A few hours east of Ulaangom (after enjoying our first short stretch of tarmac since the border) we found ourselves in a vast area of flat desert steppe, with not a soul around. It was a sticky hot evening and we trundled slowly on numerous dusty sand tracks for a few hours more, absorbing the quiet, flat and empty land. We passed the odd Ger and empty looking Corral (a pen for the 5 snouts) and wondered how anyone could survive out here. One of the largest lakes in Mongolia (Uug Nur) lay to our left (the north) somewhere, but we couldn’t see anything except endless desert-steppe and infinite blue sky. Finally after hours of rough rutted sandy tracks we pulled off onto the desert-steppe at sunset in time to watch the bright red sun finally drop below the infinite horizon. A pink glow was cast on a range of mountains to the south and it really was beautiful. An odd warm breeze buffeted the truck and the smell of worm-wood (similar to thyme but sweeter) filled our nostrils as we halted for the night. Ed absolutely loved the flat desert landscape. It was so remote, so desolate. He thought it was brilliant to spend at least one night in the ‘nothing’ contemplating our isolation. Luckily I was too tired to think about it. We had hardly seen a vehicle since Ulaangom and nothing big enough to rescue us if we got stuck. It was difficult to ward away anxious thoughts of the truck breaking down as we went to sleep. The following morning, Ed woke up at 6am and spent a little while sat outside in the sun soaking up the views. It was too early for me, but I heard him shouting through the window that he had just seen something that looked like a small ostrich walk by (possibly a Rhea). When I was finally made to move (by Ed) at 7am, we set off, taking advantage of the cooler morning air. In the heat of the day (it must have been nearly 40 degrees Celsius) we stopped for a rest and some food. Ed got his little Ukranian stove out and put up our tarpaulin, attached to the side of the truck providing much needed shade. We were soon digging in to an epic potatoe curry, finally taking in the landscape, the heat and the views. It was brilliant. My fears of the previous evening dissolved as I realised that this was why Ed wanted to come to Mongolia. To experience these landscapes, this remoteness all to ourselves was special indeed. Plus the desert-lunch camp looked awesome. And suddenly, before our eyes, the desert-steppe came to life. Very soon we were joined by about nine huge eagles sat in a semi-circle around us some 50m distant spaced about 20m apart as we ate our lunch. Perhaps we were interesting to them because we provided a ‘feature’ in the endless nothing. Either way, we had a great view of them and eyed them as closely as they eyed us. As well as the eagle’s interest, the shade we were providing in the desert heat seemed to attract strange insects and butterflies. A very odd ‘massive’ cricket kept crawling towards me. It was perfectly camouflaged, coloured beige with flecks of dark brown and about 7cm long with a fat body and very large curved upright tail. Even more exotic, were bigger lime green crickets with black and red wings that flew around us sporadically making disturbingly loud clicking noises before zooming down into their burrows. They were the same size as a small bird in flight and I let out a girlie scream when one of them clicked suddenly towards me. The eagles were after the flying clicking things, and we watched them aerobatic their way to lunch while we tucked into to our potatoe curry. It was quite an awesome desert camp (see pictures). Plus Ed’s giant hairy beard and hat makes him look like Indianna-Ed – the real adventurer. Hehe. We finally left our desert camp and continued east. With some relief (my own) the flat desert scape eventually gave way to small soft golden sand dunes at the base of rolling grass covered hills. We passed a pretty meandering stream and the water’s edge was covered in Demoiselle Cranes. They are stunning creatures; a similar shape to an ostrich but much smaller, grey in colour and with a long mane (beard) of black hair-like feathers running down the underside of their necks. Very odd, but amazing at the same time. We had seen a few in Kazakhstan as well. They are usually always a pair (husband and wife) and lots of these ones had little babies as well. By the evening we were in a wide grassy valley (in parts cultivated) with pointy green carpeted mountains on either side. We stopped for the night on the top of a hill overlooking endless folds of soft grassy steppe, capped with ancient weathered rocky crags. Wonderful layered sand dunes lay to the north illuminated by the evening sunlight (which very oddly had trees growing out of them) and it was staggeringly beautiful. The scale of the landscape was incredible and only slightly elevated on a hill, we could see for miles and miles in all directions. A mild breeze jostled wild flowers in the long grass outside the truck and Ed once more sat on alone on a rocky crag admiring the view. I watched him from the truck window and my heart glowed for him. We were both very happy. On Monday 30th June we passed more rolling hills, this time forested with larch (on the north-facing slopes only) before stopping at a pretty stream for lunch where we spent some time washing our clothes and filling up the water tank. Amusingly, a mini-bus full of locals stopped to say hello. They seemed fascinated by our presence, all the while giggling at us…. All very odd (I blame the beard). That evening another rainstorm swept in and we spent the night on the slope of a grassy mountain surrounded by grazing horses. The following morning (Tuesday 1st July), first and foremost, we couldn’t believe it was July (!!!) we continued east. After about 30 minutes on the road we bumped into an overlander. He was an Australian called Mick and he had ridden all the way to Mongolia from Australia on a motorbike. He had a giant grey bushy beard and a friendly face. We stopped to chat to him and learned he had been bogged down in the mud earlier in the morning (so he was a bit grumpy). The overnight rain had left deep puddles and muddy tracks. None of it a match for the truck however. By lunchtime we ascended into the Mongolian landscape Ed had been dreaming of for more than 17 years. The infamous grassy-steppe where the land rolled on and on for miles in all directions covered in bright green grass and beautiful wild flowers. The weathered rounded hills ambled away to the horizon and we couldn’t resist stopping for a little while to enjoy it. It was different from the other grassy scenery we had so far experienced in Mongolia, because the rocky crags and triangular mountains had now disappeared, replaced by an endless softness of green. We got our damp washing out from the previous day and made a line with some poles, using the side of the truck for support and then enjoyed an epic lunch of ham, egg and chips on our deck chairs in the Mongolian sunshine. Although we were really quite isolated, the land had a friendly calm sereneness about it. Here we were and we had it all to ourselves. It was a special moment for Ed as he had been dreaming about this landscape for 17 years. Aged 15 (and unwell at the time) he had scoured over fly-fishing magazines illustrating the Mongolian Steppe, all the while dreaming of visiting this remote land. And here he was. He had made it. Confronted with reality, Ed had a powerful sense of achievement. It meant so much to be here and I was so very proud of him, as I am sure all of his friends and family are back at home. He has worked unbelievably hard, tooth and nail to get here. His life has taken so many twists and turns since that young lad of 15, but his path had always been true. Seventeen years of dreaming and battling illness, seven years of hard graft at RAW and over four years of working on the truck at weekends (with an annoying welsh girl occasionally complaining at him to spend more time with her…..) has finally led him here. Ed never gave up on his dream which has finally culminated in two people staring at the epic Steppe, pondering life, happiness, the past and the future. Eventually (after scoffing ham, egg and chips and filming ourselves eating! Lol!), we hopped back into the truck and continued to amble on grass covered tracks through endless soft green undulating valleys. Occasionally craggy weathered granite would crown the tops of the rounded hills and that evening we ascended to one of the crags. It was probably one of the steepest ascents the truck had managed to date and we ended up spending the night on top of a precipice alongside a craggy granite rock formation that looked like dinosaurs teeth rising out of the steppe. Before we settled down for the night we climbed to the top of the granite crag and enjoyed the evening sunshine looking down into the endless green, feeling quite content and happy with life. On Wednesday morning (2nd July) I filmed the trucks epic descent of the steep hill (which didn’t look as frightening as it probably felt for Ed in the cab!). Continuing through more grassy-steppe we finally descended into a small village where a camel was parked outside a house, all packed up and ready to go on a trip it seemed. We took a left opposite the camel taking a track not even mapped on our GPS, in the hopes to take a shorter route to a large lake we were heading to, called Lake Khovsgol. It turned out however, that the track ended at a wide and beautiful river. Due to the rain the previous night, the river was too deep for us to drive across. To Ed’s delight however, it was an absolutely stunning fishing river. The weather and location was too pretty to waste, so I got my deck chair out and Ed his fly-rod, for a spot of fishing. A gusty wind blew down the valley, but this didn’t prevent Ed catching a small Taimen (trout-like fish) within 5 minutes. Ed fishes with un-barbed hooks (much friendlier and eco-conscious), so after saying hello to the little beastie (and without touching him) Ed released the hook and the pretty little fish swam away. I filmed him casting into the water enjoying himself. He really does look like Indianna-Ed (see pictures). After an hour of catching little Taimen tiddlers (and returning them to the river unscathed) we left the banks of the beautiful river and returned to the village where the loaded camel was still patiently waiting for his master. We continued on a ‘mapped’ track which took up a steep hill of grassy steppe before descending into a marvellous pink granite valley where the same river (we had enjoyed earlier) meandered through the centre. The river was lined with pretty trees (possibly mulberry) and so we stopped for lunch on the grassy leafy banks enjoying the shade. Later that evening, the sun still shone brightly on the horizon as we finally made it to a town called Moron, from which we would drive north to Lake Khovsgol in search of potential moose, bear and wolves. This most northerly area of Mongolia is the transition zone between the Siberian Taiga and the grassy steppe. We had heard good reviews with regards to the lake from Mike (the Australian) and Lydia and Andre (the wonderful Swiss couple we met near the border) so we thought we couldn’t miss it, even though we were in a bit of a rush to get to the capital (Ulaanbaatar) by the 8th July. We spent the night north of Moron some 25km south of Khovsgol at a sulphurous smelling lake, arriving just at sunset. The road from Moron to Khatgal was pristine tarmac, something we hadn’t witnessed since Ulaangom. The following day we arrived at the lake (via a short stop in Khatgal) and made for the eastern shore via a river crossing (our deepest to date) deciding to avoid the more touristy western shore. The track to the lake was horrendous and it took us about 3.5hrs to drive 40km, finally settling on a scenic spot on the edge of a forest facing the lake and surrounded by grazing yak, goats and sheep. The weather was spotting rain, the air decidedly cool and it felt very British…. A feeling we weren’t expecting to experience in Mongolia! On 4th July we walked the shore of the lake which was covered in beautiful grey driftwood before heading into the forest. It was a beautiful forest. The grass along the lake shore was littered with wild flowers and even the forest floor was carpeted in them where the sun glimmered through. We had some fun following some animal tracks (and dung) hoping they were moose, but secretly Ed was sure they were Yak. The edge of the forest was the best place to pick wild flowers including a wonderful flame orange flower that we didn’t know the name of. I picked a huge bunch and we put them in a vase in the truck. Khovsgol was lovely but we couldn’t help feeling like we were back in the UK! The beautiful forest and flowers however, were stunning. We thought perhaps we felt some disappointment to be somewhere ‘so British-like’ and familiar when we had followed such a tough track to get there. Simply all the previous Mongolian scenery we had witnessed had spoiled us rotten! On 5th July we waved goodbye to the flowers and the Yak and headed south once more to Moron. Ed took the truck through the gushing river for the second time (near the main town of Khatgal) avoiding a dodgy looking 7.5tonne wooden bridge. I jumped out to film it and we spent a couple of hours having breakfast by the river and washing clothes. About 20km from Moron however, disaster struck. Ed could no longer change gear and we thought the clutch had gone on the truck…... It was too terrible to contemplate. We spent an hour trying to get to the root of the problem, me pumping the clutch while Ed bled the oil from various places. Finally, our efforts were rewarded and the clutch behaved normally, allowing us to arrive once more to the town of Moron by early evening. Coincidentally Ed’s mum, sister and niece (Rosie, Lucy and Annabelle) were also about to land in Moron as well! Ed had heard from his mum earlier that morning. They had flown out to UB a few days previous and were also now (previously unbeknown to us) heading up to Khovsgol. We were supposed to be meeting them in UB on the 8th July and were totally unaware that they would be coming to Moron. We had also hoped to get more miles under our belt, but the truck had had other ideas. We knew where Rosie, Lucy and Annabelle were planning to have dinner (after a text from Rosie) so we thought we would surprise them. We parked the truck in Moron, cleaned ourselves up and then waited for them in the hotel reception. Their faces were a picture when they arrived!, and we chuckled as fate seemed intent on us meeting them early it seemed. That evening, they drove north to the lake and we spent the night just outside Moron near a collection of deer stones (intricately carved monoliths 1000BC), which we found with the help of Rosie’s guide (Odka). The following morning (Sunday 6th July) we enjoyed the 14 wonderful stones. They are called deer stones because the majority of the carvings are of stylised deer, but they are supposed to represent warriors of the day. The carvings include a belt bearing the warriors weapons and one of the stones even had a face. They were amazing and equally amazing was the local looking after them who gave us a lovely welcome and fond farewell when we left. It rained all day on Sunday 6th July….. and the clutch gave up again. In the pouring rain, Ed drained the remaining contaminated clutch fluid to resolve the problem once and for all. Although Ed had checked the levels of clutch fluid before we left it was the only fluid he hadn’t completely changed as the oil appeared new in the reservoir back in the UK (it even said all fluids replaced in the book!). When draining it, it was almost black and contaminated with water so when everything got hot it became impossible to disengage the clutch. After a quick check through the instruction manual, the fluid was changed and the clutch was restored to full function hopefully without any lasting damage…… The track to Bulgan (our next destination on route to UB) was tarmac (from Moron) for the first 60km or so. The remainder of the day was spent smashing through mud filled puddles, sliding down bankings and winching out locals stuck in the mud. It got to the point where we were the only vehicle on the road, the truck (and Ed’s superb driving) managing the quagmire of a track well. We kept passing Ger-road stops absolutely crammed with vehicles as everyone had given up driving. We however, soldiered on until dusk and a fleece truck (we had passed earlier) also made it as far as we did and joined us on a dry patch of grass for the night. Ed loved the mud, rescuing locals and splashing the truck into the puddles. I was just glad we weren’t stuck! It was so slippery at times that the entire 10 tonnes of truck was slipping freely, Ed having far too much fun, spinning us 90 degrees, sliding around all over the place like he used to as a small boy (when destroying field cars). Thankfully the following morning we woke to wonderful sunshine and finally made it to Bulgan where we expected (hoped and crossed our fingers!) that the track would convert to wonderful tarmac to enable us to make it to UB in time (we didn’t really want tarmac). This time however, we had some friends as the fleece truck that spent the night alongside us wanted to travel in convoy with us to Bulgan. The loaded vehicle was about 16 tonne! It was a whopper and packed to the rafters with sheep fleeces. It was a probably one of the few vehicles we had seen that would be able to pull us out if we got stuck, and so we happily joined them in convoy (two local men and a lady). The carnage of the previous day continued and soon we were pulling out a Chinese HGV and the two fleece lads were generously helping with our winch. Similarly, we pulled the fleece truck up a steep banking allowing us to get onto a partially constructed road and a breather from mud. Finally we arrived in Bulgan and as we had hoped, we were greeted by tarmac! We quickly found a river where Ed decided to give the ridiculously muddy truck a wash, destroying all evidence of our last 20 hours or so off extreme off-roading. The fleece truck came to join us and we showed the two lads around the truck before thanking them and waving goodbye. That evening we drove and drove, completing a 14hour driving day, stopping for the night some 170km north of UB. It looked like we had nearly made it thanks to the presence of pristine tarmac from Bulgan to the next town (Erdenet). The tarmac disintegrated however, into a potholed horror road once we turned south from Darkhan to UB. On the 8th July at 2pm, we made it on time to UB, parking the truck (finally) in a locked compound, which turned out to be a train shunting yard. We arrived at the Best Western (Tuushin) Hotel around 4.30pm and collapsed in a heap! From 9th to 16th July we were scheduled to explore the south Gobi with Ed’s mum, sister and 6yr old niece Annabelle, flying south to Dalanzadgad…. And what a week we had. We travelled initially in two Toyota Land Cruisers driven by local Gobi men Boggy and Moggy with our wonderful guide and translator Nara. She was absolutely lovely. The first three nights were spent at three different Ger camps, each time heading west into the remote Gobi. We visited a beautiful volcanic gorge (Yolyn Am) with a glacier at its base (yes, ice in the Gobi!!), the famous ‘Flaming Cliffs’; an amazing red sandstone canyon famous for dinosaur fossil finds in the 1920’s (notably dinosaur eggs) and one of my favourite moments, we camel trekked to Mongolia’s largest sand dunes (Kongoryn Els) before hiking up the highest 200m sand dune. The view at the top was utterly spectacular and even little 6 year old Annabelle made it to the top. When it was finally time to descend it, I slid the entire 200m on my bottom! Epic. At the Flaming Cliffs (Bayanzag) I actually found (with luck) fragments of dinosaur egg shell, later confirmed (over the dinner) by our Palaeontologist who had arrived to join our group as we travelled west to more dinosaur sights. It was too exciting to contemplate, as no one had found anything at the fossil site for years! The nights of the 12th, 13th and 14th July were spent camping in the Gobi desert, initially at an amazing sandstone canyon (Nemegt) where we hunted for more fossils. The entire experience was something out of an Indiana Jones film, as by the time of our desert camping we were now a convoy of three Toyota Land Cruisers (with three local drivers), a cook, palaeontologist and our wonderful guide and translator (Nara). The entire experience was so out of this world (a real adventure) and I would like to thank Rosie for making it possible. It really was unbelievable. After Nemegt (where we found loads of dinosaur fossils!) we drove further west, and were taken to a site famous for fossilised turtles and more dinosaurs (Galimimus). This was followed by heading into the remote western area of the Aimag to a stunning and extensive sandstone canyon called Khermen Tsav where we experienced 50 degree heat and later an epic sandstorm! We were also taken to a wonderful oasis where we soaked our feet in the cool(ish) waters! Our third night camping was spent next to a spring, pitched on fresh springy grass (yes in the desert) and spending the evening listening to our Mongolian party singing old nomadic songs. It was both moving and enchanting and sadly, I was forced to take one for the team (and sing a song or two as well!) settling with the Welsh National Anthem (don’t laugh!) and Annie’s Song. Luckily there was vodka involved and it was dark! All in all, a memorable experience. As well as all the scenery and fossil sights, we were also treated to personal experiences with several nomadic families, the first being the family who rented us the camels at Khongoryn Els. They invited us inside their wonderfully decorated Ger and offered us tea (hot camel milk), homemade curd and fermented mares milk to try. Similarly, we were also taken to visit Boggy’s sister’s family (one of our drivers). On two occasions, they invited us in, first for a wonderful lunch, and on our return visit for sheep/goat testicles! We were beckoned over to watch some of the goats (and one sheep) being castrated… It sounds awful, but it happens so quickly. It was mesmerising to watch and there was no blood, so even little Annabelle experienced it without flinching. For Ed however (being a man) he was taken away into another Ger with the boys to eat a raw testicle which involved gnawing at the end for a minute or two (to get access to the contents) and squeezing out the insides into your mouth. Ming….. The rest of us had ours boiled with barley. It was surprisingly soft and when you cut into it, had the texture of pate. It tasted like the dark meat on a chicken leg, so actually wasn’t too bad (oh and Ed had to eat that too!). Our final night in the Gobi was spent revisiting the Ger camp at Kongoryn Els, before heading east the following day to the airport via a beautiful volcanic gorge and an invitation to Boggy’s (one of our drivers) own house for dumplings. We truly had a marvellous time and having Nara (our translator) allowed us to learn so much about Mongolia and its people. Thank you so much Nara if you are reading this. You are a special lady and without you, the trip would not have been such a glorious success. On 17th July (Thursday) we were back in UB and did a little shopping (accompanied by Nara and her lovely daughter) before returning to the truck. It was fantastic to see it, sitting there. Nothing bad had befallen it and we were so pleased to be re-united with our home and friend. We also managed to extend our visa another 30 days (with the help of Nara). We love Mongolia….. It really is a special place. It feels very safe, it is beautiful, exciting and the local people really are truly amazing. Just leaving UB everyone waved at us, and not far from the city we have been visited by local nomads with gifts of milk and pancakes! The remoteness and general lack of roads makes you absorb every inch of the landscape and there really is SO MUCH to see and do here. Six months wouldn’t be enough time. The plan for the remainder of our Mongolian adventure was to head west to Bayanhongor Aimag and that is where we have been for the last few weeks. This section of the Blog is slightly out of date now. As I write this we are in Siberia. We crossed the border back into Russia on 11th August. Unfortunately I have lost my mobile and Ed's phone hasn't been working either. We are currently in the t own of Chita (in a hotel) and we hope to buy a new dongle tomorrow as that's not working either! I'll update the last 3 weeks of Mongolia once we get the dongle! We are missing everyone at home and hope to skype soon. Lots of Love. Ros & Ed. xxxx
2 Comments
Heidi
8/13/2014 02:48:00 am
Great to read about your adventures guys...Keep safe and well xxx
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Emma maher
8/13/2014 04:45:05 pm
V much enjoying reading all about your adventures, sounds amazing! And v glad you and the truck are safe and well.
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AuthorRos: Both Ed and I will be updating the diary blog as much as possible! WTS. Archives
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