It's almost where I'm sick of vacation. But really, that is not possible

This is why I never, ever want to become management at any job, and will ride this pony in HK for a little more: I just figured I will have taken off 49 days this year, once I count in my comp days from 6-day workweeks the next two weeks. Those are work days, so about 10 weeks of vacation. Granted, this is tempered by the fact I work every public holiday, so no Christmases or May Days off for me. And working 13 hours a day, 6 days a week during the Olympics made me not a pleasant person to be around some days. But still, I find myself happy sometimes just to stay at home on my days off and not leave the house.

Mongo like tidbits!

It wasn't just pretty scenery in Mongolia. It was weirdness, culturally and otherwise.

1) I helped my guide with a lot of the subtleties of the English language. Like the difference between seeing and watching; we know when to use what word, but think about it, why? And I described the difference between getting drunk (300 ml of vodka) and hammered (70o ml of vodka!). Plus, I taught him what a "clean plate award" was, and he got it at every meal.
2) Besides Pringles, I realized another snack food comes close to its near universality: Kit Kats. They're almost everywhere.
3) On the second night, my guide helped start the fire in my ger's stove with just toilet paper and some wood. It reminded me of my high school days, when we all would gather in a gravel pit or a parking lot for hunters, stuck in the middle of a ginormous marsh, so we all could get drunk with our half-barrel of Miller Lite. Everyone had to contribute something to said party, and my job was to get there early and start a bonfire with (nondry) branches, toilet paper and a smidge of gasoline. Between driving home drunk as a teen and starting bonfires with gasoline, it's a wonder I am alive today.
4) On the way to see a lake in our second day in Karkorum, we stopped on the way there to see an old stone monument that is the oldest example of written Turkic language. The 15-foot-tall stone pillar was written in about 700 AD, they guess, at what was a trading crossroads then.
It's inside a walled compound now. There are no guards or caretakers; you just go inside. And if you're the first person there during the day, like we were, you just open up the doors to find that a local herder decided it was the perfect place to keep his 4 cows overnight. Again, I love the libertarianism in Mongolia.
5) In Mongolia, dogs are everywhere; the standard greeting when you come upon a ger roughly translates as "Leash your dog!" They're all kinds of breeds, mostly mutts, but they come in handy to help herd the animals or warn you of wolves or other varmints at night.
That said, my last ger only had a cat. That's when I really knew it wasn't going to be that exciting.
6) In the ger just outside Karkorum, there's not a lot to do. The locals spent the afternoon watching sumo wrestling live on tv. One of the matches was being held in Tokyo that week, and there were three major Mongolian wrestlers competing, and doing quite well.
7) While my guide understood the "clean plate award" he did not understand the American phrase of "you don't want to know how the sausage is made" because Mongolians will eat anything with meat on it/in it. They're not squeamish about eating one part of an animal, but not another.
8) Mongolia won 4 medals in the Olympics, including two golds. One of the gold medalists was a boxer, and his picture was everywhere in Mongolia, pimping everything. Especially prominent was his picture being used to tout a new housing development.
9) My mom has always suspected we might have Mongolian blood running through our veins. I now know why, and think my brother, especially, looks kinda Mongolian.
10) Besides cows in the stone pillar compound, local shepherds in Karkorum would leave their horses in the fenced-in compound of our gers, then come and pick them up at about 7am, before the others woke up. After living in HK for nearly 3 years, it's kinda weird to fall asleep to horses making their demonic snorting noises.
11) It's weird to be in a country where there aren't ATMs everywhere; even in Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand, you can find them now, usually within an hour's drive of where you are. Not in Mongolia. And my 7 days without Internet access - heck, without access to any English-language media - was my longest stint since I was in India in 2004. Nothing like missing the collapse of the western financial system as I eat mutton and noodles.
12) Driving throughout Mongolia makes me want to do a road trip from San Francisco to the Midwest next year.

Meat (the word for food in Mongolia)

It may seem hearsay to friends, but I burned out on meat in Mongolia. Yes, it's possible. There's a reason Mongolians are bigger than their neighbors to China in the south, and part of it is their constant consumption of protein.
Every meal was loaded with meat, whether it was mutton (the usual) beef (about a quarter of the meals) or chicken (one meal.) It was mutton with floury noodles, mutton in a pastry shell, mutton in dumplings, mutton in soup, beef in stew, mutton in bell peppers or just big hunks of chicken. Your vegetables consisted of shredded carrots as a salad, shredded carrots in the noodles, potatoes in a stew, and the occasional cut up bell pepper. Fruit, if there was any, was in a syrup for dessert.
Yes, I got sick of meat at the end. But the Mongolians? They loved it. One night in Karkorum, the cook made stuffed peppers. My guide and driver just ate the meat inside, and left the pepper sitting by the wayside.
This, my friends, is how you make a country full of people that once conquered the world. And it makes sense in a country that is good for growing wheat and some other grains and for letting livestock graze, and that's about it. You see hundreds of animals grazing for every person, so it makes sense they live off meat, with little vegetables.
But still, I missed my tropical fruits. Even in heaven, you need variety.


Lunch on the return trip to Ulaan Baatar. Some cucumber/tomato salad (along with Pringles and Kit Kats, this also seems to be the food that is found in every country), some biscuits and 3 or 4 pastry pockets filled with mutton. Greasy, but great finger food.


On my penultimate day in UB, I stopped by a local restaurant run by a friend of my guide. They were out of dumplings, so I had super-floury noodles with meat. Well, meat and fat. Realize, I had already finished about half of the plate when I shot this picture. Mongolia is the only country that serves bigger portions than the US.


Next to my hotel in UB. I never saw anyone go in here, and I guess they are pretty lonely. It probably is possible to be vegetarian in Mongolia, but vegan? Forget it.


And when you're done eating, you get to go to the bathroom for gentleman. For some reason, I loved this bathroom stall door.

The big UB

And then, I finished the trip in Ulaan Baatar, spending a day and a half there, which morphed to two full days once my flight to Beijing was delayed 14 hours. (Air China has supplanted American Airlines for my worst airline experience ever, though American still is the worst airline by far; I doubt AA would put you up in a hotel during your delay and feed you two meals. Still, a 14-hour delay for a mythical weather problem to hide the fact they just wanted to combine two not-full flights is still not acceptable.)
And, my friends, if you ever go to Mongolia, don't bother spending more than a day in UB. You can see all there is in a half day. The best hotels remind you of two-stars in Europe, or an old, dumpy Days Inn back in the states.) You can walk around the downtown for a little bit, but the city is sprawling and choking with traffic. It's hard to imagine that a city in Mongolia has traffic jams, but UB does; on our ride back in on Friday afternoon, we were stuck in traffic for a half hour as we came in from the western edge of the city and tried to get a few kilometers across town.
Plus, there's haze in UB. Not like in Hong Kong, but you do see a layer of filthy muck lingering in the air over the city, which is surprising because you never think you would see smog in Mongolia. But when you have a city that is growing to the bursting point, with cars being added every day (and these are old cars and buses burning 80-octane fuel), with two power plants stuck right in a city that is nestled in a valley, it makes sense when you think about it. You feel it too; it was the first city I got watery eyes from upon landing since I was in Delhi a few years ago.
There are some cool things to see in UB. There's a good little art museum, and the local art scene is doing some original stuff, which is refreshing after coming from Hong Kong where everyone is emulating the pop-Mao style with big soft eyes just because that sells. There's a natural history museum that's cool in an old-school way because it's filled with dinosaur bones (the Gobi goes into Mongolia, so lots of dinosaur fossils are found in the country), stuffed animals galore and no signs at all touting creationism as a legit counter-argument to evolution, as it would in the US. The city square is worth a wander, just so you can go to the Communist Party HQ that was burned down by political protesters/drunkards back on July 1 when they were angry at the party for stealing the legislative election/hammered and angry.
But that's it. Sure, there's coffee shops here and there. You could go to the only American restaurant chain in town, BD's Mongolian BBQ (which is in the style of Inner Mongolia food from China, not Mongolia per se) if you are into kitsch. Or, you could be like me and just try to chill at your hotel, which is supposed to be one of the best in town. Except for the fact that the water in the shower was lukewarm at best, cooler than at my last ger. Or the fact no one answers any calls to room service. Or that the sauna in the hotel is booked four days in advance. Or that the massage person they have is not working that week, so oops, no luck there.
They did have working Internet though, and Pringles for sale in one of their shops. I will give them credit for that.
But heed my advice if you visit: spend one day, at most in UB. Stay in a guesthouse; there's no reason to spend more than $20 in UB for a night's stay; you don't get value at the hotels if you pay more.
And on to pictures!




The Communist Party HQ.


There are lots of apartment blocks being built on the south side of town, including some in front of the hills with portraits of Chinngis Khan carved into them. There's a debate about whether they are needed; some say they will just lure more people in from the countryside, while others say it will help alleviate the ger slums on the north side of town. On the hills on the north side of the city are thousands of gers on the hills, from people who have moved into the city looking for work. It's like a shantytown, but with gers. And with unemployment projected at at least 20 percent in the city, many of the people living in the gers have a hard time getting by, since they no longer have their livestock to live off of.

A view from the hotel looking eastward. All the buildings in the city are supposed to be 12 stories or less (my hotel was 12, and the new building across the street from me was coming up to the same height), but just next to the central square, they were building a 30-story building, to no surprise to anyone who has traveled Asia and is used to local developers just ignoring zoning rules or paying off the right politico.


Inside the national history museum.


Ouch for the sheep!


From inside the art museum in UB; it is a painting of an ethnic tribe in the west of Mongolia. And now you know another thing that George Lucas stole from to create his characters for the new batch of Star Wars movies.



While we were delayed for 14 hours, I met a Brit (above) who was engaged to Mongolian woman. He was traveling to Hong Kong, too, for a business meeting, and knew immediately what was up when we got to the airport at 10 am and saw the flight delayed; Air China pulled the same stunt, he said, two months ago, canceling the 11.30 am flight and the 5 pm flight and combining it into one flight that left late at night. I spent the evening drinking with those two and an economist from the US treasury department as we passed the time. I will give the Mongolians credit in that they keep the cafes open at the airport until everyone leaves; we had no shortage of beers or other beverages to drink.

The slow, slow days in Karkorum

After we left the ger near the dunes, we drove for about two hours or so to Karkorum. First was another trip to a temple (on the grounds of the ancient capital of Mongolia's heyday; really at this point, I have seen everything that a Buddhist temple has to offer) before we went to our ger. I was hoping for something as cool as the one near the dunes. Instead, I got a sterile camp a few kilometers outside of a dumpy town, and I was the only guest at the camp for two of the three days. I had a bad feeling as we started to pull up to park. At the end of the first day, I broached the possibility of heading back to the dune ger, even if I had to pay for that out of pocket for myself and my guide. I talked myself out of it, but I shouldn't have.
The host was great at the Karkorum camp, and the food was good. There just was nothing to do. It was in a flat plain, the ger itself was the least interesting of the three I stayed at (I had a small manufactured bed to sleep on, instead of the traditional wooden bed) and the scenery was just ........ boring. Flat plains, a small creek in the distance and that's it. No rolling, green hills like in the first ger. No sand dunes and mountains like the second ger. Just flat, brown plains in every direction.
And when you're alone in Mongolia, it's boring. This really drove home the fact that in this country, you need to travel with at least a partner, preferably a group. It was relaxing to sit in the sun in the afternoon, enjoying the clean air while reading a book. But the scrubby town that is Karkorum now in the distance took away some of the splendor. And while I like traveling solo when there is lots to do - or at least if there is an opportunity to wander off and do some exploring when you get bored, whether it's Tokyo's stores or Luang Prabang's colonial buildings - when you are in quiet areas like this, solo traveling gets boring very quickly.
If I go back again - and there's a good chance of that - I will book the trip myself. If I need to stay near Karkorum, I'm going here. It may not be very genuine - but what is genuine when it comes to tourist gers? - but how often can you stay at a ger owned by a Mongolian sumo wrestler that is geared to Japanese tourists?



At least the toilet-paper holders made me laugh at the Karkorum camp.


Mongolians love billiards, too. When we stopped in Karkorum, we went to the market in town so I could look for sunglasses, and there were about 6 tables set up in the middle of said market, with people playing. My ger camp also had a beat-up table (above), and the host/cook was pretty good at it, even though some of the balls were missing chunks and the table listed badly.


On my first afternoon, a storm started rolling in during the middle of the afternoon. And in open plains, it brings a lot of dust with it.


You an see the dust storm preceding the storm itself. My camp also built small cabins, where Mongolians apparently prefer to stay, instead of the gers.


Another sundown shot, this time in Karkorum.


On the second day, we took a side-trip to a park about 2.5 hours away. More riding in the jeep. If you look closely at the driver's left thumb, you'll see he has two thumbnails. His thumb split above the top knuckle, and he had two thumb tips. He may be be all left thumbs, but he's two-thirds left thumbs!


Mongolia doesn't produce just big people, but big birds too, such as buzzards.


Lots of big buzzards.


The park had a huge fresh-water lake, where the horses liked to hang out. The one on the ground was just rolling around, itching a scratch.


And what a calm lake it was.


The cows were not as friendly. The mother cows were very territorial, and you learned to give them a wide berth quickly.


On the way up, we stopped at a hill with sweeping view. All over Mongolia were rock piles like this one, which are considered to bring good luck. You walk around it and toss a rock on the pile. It also had strips of blue plastic, the favorite color of Mongolians.


The clear skies of Mongolia.


My guide and driver, after they tossed on a rock for luck.


Another shot of my guilde.


As we were at the rock pile, a local herdsman came by on his horse and settled down for a break. Mongolians have unique saddles, very narrow and tall. Mongolians prefer to stand while riding a horse.


Another traffic jam on the way back. With their short, stubby legs and bouncy butts and tails, goats and sheep can't help but produce laughs when they run away.


On my final day, I spent the whole day trying to organize a horse ride. About 2pm, a local herder produced a horse, and my camp host found a western saddle for me.
If you haven't ridden a horse for a while - for me, 30 years, - it hurts after you ride for an hour or two. Hurts a lot in certain areas. That's all I'll say.


800 years ago, Karkorum was the most important city on earth as the capital of the earth's biggest empire. Now it looks like a desolate town you might see in the middle of Kansas where you stop for gas, and that's it. Above, a view of Karkorum just off the main square.


As we left Karkorum back to UB, I came across camels for the first time. All the camels in Mongolia are two-humped, but usually they are further south, near the Gobi.


I had a full moon at the start of the trip, and after a few days, you could still see it in the morning. This is just outside Karkorum.

Dune

The night spent at the dune ger camp was definitely my favorite. Plenty of hiking opportunities awaited, but considering I got there with only 2 hours of sunlight left, I stayed within a kilometer of the camp and just scampered up and down dunes and rock formations to admire the sun as it went down. There were a number of groups staying there, but you never heard them; it's quiet in Mongolia at night. The only voices were a few of the workers playing cards or another game, and they all quit at 10pm or so.



Every ger has the same basic layout. It includes an opening at the top for smoke to rise through, and many cover the rest of it with plastic (which lets in light) except for a round hole for the stove flue.



The inside. Covered with cheap flooring on top of wood slats, but they still keep the door well-decorated.


The camp.


Looking westward. I definitely want to stay here again on my next trip to Mongolia. One group of Japanese travelers went by horseback to some mountains nearby to camp out.


Late in the afternoon, looking over the dunes.


Raked by wind, not man.


Guess who?


It's Mongolia. You let things lie where they lay, including skeletons.


Of horses, of courses.



The view at night. We don't get to see the moon this clearly in HK.

Traffic jam, Mongolia style

On my second day in Mongolian, I got a true taste for the country in a few days. First, I awoke after sleeping in near-freezing weather overnight. Then I woke up to find out we had no hot water that morning. Nothing like trying to wash up with cold water when it's 40 degrees F outside. (Though to make up for it, the Indian cook at the ger camp made a great breakfast, with a few Indian specialties thrown in.)
Then I got to take a 8 hour or so trip to our next stop: a ger camp on the edge of sand dunes. The first four hours or so were fine, as we travelled about 150 kilometers on paved roads. Paved roads mean paved, but still with potholes and divots everywhere, not the high-speed highways you expect in the states or Europe.
Then we started the 2.5-hour trek over unpaved roads. You really haven't tested your own suspension and padding until you've ridden a Russian Jeep over plateau fields. It was like being in first grade all over again, as we would sit in the back of the school bus and bounce up and down, trying to time it perfectly so we could just go upwards when we hit the bump in the road, and thus be able to touch the bus' roof with our heads.


The view during lunch.


My guide grabbing stuff out of the jeep. We listened to mostly Mongolian pop music all the way, except for one thing that sounded like an audiobook, or at least someone telling an old Mongolian folk tale. On tape, of course, because CDs would only skip on rough roads like this.

After a while, we exited the unpaved area, thankfully, and entered paved roads again. (In Mongolia, you quickly become thankful for paved roads, hot water and fresh vegetables besides carrots and cabbage.) Then we hit the traffic jam on the one bridge in the area.


Lots of jam, lemme tell you, all herded by those on horseback.


Waiting for them to pass.


And making sure all are clear. The woman used a plastic bottle that she sheared in half and attached a string with a weight as a noisemaker to drive the sheep/goats on.


In this part of Mongolia, there weren't many trees. We stopped off in one valley for a bathroom break/sightseeing, and there were a bunch of birch trees nearby, but many had been pruned for firewood.

The first night in Mongolia

After landing in UB, I met my guide (a 40-year-old who usually works as a translator) and the driver (who did not speak English or drink alcohol but was quite one with his Russian jeep that he drove.) We did a quick sightseeing tour of the capital - an hour to see an old temple (which looked like every other Buddhist temple I have seen throughout Asia), the city square where protests are held, the nearby Communist party HQ that was burned down in early July by opposition party members angry at a possibly dirty election, and a soviet-era memorial to USSR-Mongolia friendship and the proletariat on a hilltop overlooking the city. After exchanging some money (they love the US dollar there, but it's still easier to use their local toglog, which also merits picking up just so you can say the name of the currency), we drove an hour and a half to the east to my first ger, in a grassy valley.
But 10 minutes from the ger was a new tourist attraction: a huge statue of Chinggis Khan, otherwise known as Genghis in the west. There is museum/restaurant at the base, and it is being built by a member of parliament as a tourist attraction. Everywhere you turn in Mongolia, Chinggis is looking at you, usually because he's on the top-selling vodka in Mongolia, and everyone drinks vodka there.


The statue was probably a good 10 meters tall.

And he looked quite fierce.


Though his horse looked even more fierce.


Sadly, they also were going to build a golf course nearby, in view of the museum that served as the base.


And here's where I slept my first night.It was the coldest night in Mongolia, and got down to 2 Celsius. There was frost on the ger in the morning, the first I had seen in 18 months, when I was in Chicago for my second trip back home. Remember how I mentioned they did colorful details? Check out the bed.


While many nomads will use cow dung as fuel, I got to use wood at my tourist ger. The gers get quite toasty, but not after you fall asleep and the fire burns out.


They cast an eerie light, too.