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A great jeep into the unknown!
Armed with a Russian jeep and our experienced vodka-loving driver, Tjuka, we set off from Ulaan Bataar out into the Mongolian plains, seeking a taste of one of the few remaining nomadic cultures in the world. |
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Irrepressible buddist traditions
In Kharkorin, ancient capital of Chinggis Khan's empire, we admired the gorgeous buddhist temples in the Erdene Zuu monastery. The ravages of Manchu invasion and years of communist suppression mean there are only 3 temples left here where once there were 100. Amidst these relics of the past, we met a lot of young kids in monkish garb, an indication of religious revival in the decade since the repression was relaxed. |
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Travelling - off-road!
With a triumphant fist raised aloft, our mighty explorer tames yet another raging torrent. OK, so it was a set up (but it wasn't my idea!) |
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Waiter, there appears to be a stone in my soup!
Our driver cooked up a storm, using red-hot stones to sear meat in a stew which we then ate straight off the bone, using hunting knives. In the traditions of Mongolian hospitality, a Mongolian dressed in traditional robes rode up just as lunch was we were eating and joined us. We tried to observe local etiquette by speaking the Mongolian pleasantries - "How is your family?", "Are your calves fattening nicely?" to a blank wall of incomprehension. Another blow struck for cross-cultural understanding! |
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Cheryl the Climber
Atop one of the many improbably shaped rock formations which sit atop the steep Mongolian mountain passes that double as 'roads', Cheryl muses on life, love and the next time she is likely to see running water. |
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Our Mongolian residence
Address: Ger 2, Orkhon Waterfall, Mongolia. In a volcanic valley situated between mountain ranges, we stayed for a few days in a traditional Mongolian ger. With a round felt tent, a stove in the middle and a chimney popping out of the top these residences are the centre of Mongolian family and cultural life. They are designed to withstand the violently cold Mongolian winters which can fall to -50°C; it didn't prevent us from freezing our nuts off though! |
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Digging those local customs
Supping down on Mongolian tea, which is basically warm salty milk. Oddly, the custom is to slurp it as loudly as possible causing events that sounding similar to the 'beans' scene in Blazing Saddles! Other dairy delicacies we enjoyed included fermented mare's milk (called airag), clotted cream, fermented cheese and distilled yak milk - boy, that really helped all the fatty mutton go down! |
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A woman's place
Presumably because the man is supposed to be out tending the herd all day, the women do all work inside the ger - cooking, cleaning, serving guests and even feeding the stove. Tjuka, our foolish guide tried to help us 'get' this custom but Cheryl was having none of it. Here, she puts him to work in an afternoon of making dumplings - and they were seriously tasty! |
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Born to ride
Just give me a trusty steed and the open plains... We set out on a horse trek (don't call Mongolian horses ponies - they get very upset!) towards the mountains across the plain. We planned an hour but were led on and on...and on! We saw rivers, yaks, oxen, eagles and stopped at every herder ger we passed to exchange pleasantries and quaff diarrhea-inducing airag. In the baking afternoon sun we sang woosily to the sky. Our guide chose a tradition Mongolian song which we accompanied with strains of Hendrix, 'I was born under a wandering star' and 'Home on the range'. But for the fact that the Mongolian saddles are made of solid wood, this would have been a perfect day! |
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Paradise lost
A perfect scene: towering cliffs over a deep, round pool, a waterfall piling down and a happy swimmer frolicking in the foam. But wait, if we look closer, is that a contented smile on the face of our subject or the glazed look that indicates the onset of hypothermia from swimming in freezing water 2000m up with a Mongolian winter approaching? |
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Eyes front
It seemed like much longer than the few days by the time we had to leave. The night before, our hosts had thrown an impromptu party for us, where a local musician turned up with his harp, horse-head fiddle ... and Yamaha keyboard. 15 people danced around the inside of a tiny ger to Mongolian tunes until late at night. Here our hosts line up with the typical Mongolian expression for a photo shoot (as if facing a firing squad!) |
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Stranded
Could this be Magnus van Magnusson, former World's Strongest Man, pushing a jeep through the desert? Nope. Nevertheless, some great off-road action on the Mongol Els dunes. We didn't have time to go down into the Gobi Desert but there aren't many dunes there anyway so this patch of desert in the centre of Mongolia did the job nicely. |
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Fashion advice
This season, the Mongolian horse-head fiddle is being worn over the left shoulder with a coquettish tilt of the head, offset by a sky-blue sash. The fiddle is one of the main instruments used in traditional Mongolian music. EVERYONE sings or plays music here and the weird singing while whistling has to be seen to be believed (and is extremely entertaining musically). |
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