Route to the Rising Sun ...

Not wishing for a repeat of the Pot-Pasta incident, this time we'd come prepared for our 30 hour train journey to Beijing ...

We hit Chinese immigration at midnight, where the only holdup was changing the bogey's - otherwise known as the wheels - as China runs on a different gauge to Russia & Mongolia. Well it would, wouldn't it. At we sat in our compartments the whole train was literally uncoupled, and each carriage simultaneously lifted up while the wheel units were replaced - quite a sight.

As we progressed through China we began dropping through a series of dramatic gorges before reaching Beijing in the early afternoon - after just a couple of hours exploration we headed to the airport where we'd spend the evening before our flight to Japan.

We'd had only had the briefest taste of China - but the cheap delicious food and the incredibly amusing signs in Chinglish everywhere (more on that later) all filled us with enthusiasm for a more lengthy visit in a couple of weeks time.

The road back to civilisation ...

The snowstorm delay meant we faced a choice - either extend the trip by another day, or drive late into the night to get back on schedule. The lure of unlimited hot showers and decent grub was simply too much for us, so we decided on the first option.

I think we must have forgotten about the state of what passes for roads in Mongolia, and pretty soon we were being thrown around the back of the Jeep even more violently than usual as we hit several times the number of ruts and bumps full on. Then about 11pm in pitch black darkness, disaster struck. The jeep lights went out. Permanently.

Eventually we came up with the solution - the Petzl headlight - we fixed a humble LED headtorch onto the bonnet to provide just enough light to get us to the next building some 15km away.

After a deeply uncomfortable 5 hours spent sleeping on the floor of mud-track side cafeteria, we made an early start for our final destination, Ambersaygalant Monastery - where we sat drinking Mongolian vodka "Russian style" (shots, with coke chasers) well into the small hours to celebrate the end of our trip ....

So as the first leg of our adventure comes to a close, it just remains for me to say a big well done to Mel - as of last week officially Mel Starrs MBA (as well as all the other ones I can't remember)

And finally here's a link to the homepage of Mel's friend Georgia, who, along with her friend Yasmin will be driving a 1.0 litre Nissan Micra to Mongolia in the Mongol Rally this July. If anyone is interested in sponsoring her they are supporting some good causes ... I look forward to hearing how the Micra fares on these god-awful roads !

The real Mongolian BBQ ...

As we sat watching the snow start to fall, wondering just how long we'd be snowed in for we we're treated to a genuine Mongolian BBQ.

Baiscally the ingredients are hot water, meat, potatoes, carrot - hot stones are added to the wok, then it's sealed with wet tea towels and left to cook on the ubiqitous burner found in all Mongolian countryside homes (thankfully we were in wood, rather than dung burning country now). After 30 minutes it emerges with a strong smoky flavour - certainly one of the better countryside meals we had.

This is what it ends up looking like

I don't think I can give an accurate account of our visit to Mongolia without some further comment on the food.

There were some nice restaurants in Ulan Bator, however outside the capital the food was at best uninspired, at worst bloody awful or unsanitary. Our experiences seems to hit both extremes in equal measure.

In the countryside dried meat (mainly unchewable), home made noodles, carrot & potato form the basis of 99% of meals - with 2 choices, either wok fried or in soup form. Whichever you go for it will have far too much salt. Guaranteed.

In Central Mongolia we were offered putrified sheeps head - apparently the pinnacle of this delicacy is the roof of the mouth. I think we managed to decline without causing too much offence ... but it also became apparent that our disgust at unusual foodstuffs cuts both ways.

On being asked what we wanted for dinner one evening I jokingly said "lobster" (as if we had a real choice anyway). Being completely landlocked most Mongolians have never seen a shrimp, much less know what a lobster is, so out came Mel's very useful Point It: Traveller's Language Kit book and we explained.

It was just after the part where you drop them alive into boiling water that our driver, Ochiro, turned green and had to leave the Ger for a breath of fresh air. Also in the point it book we're frogs - "do you eat those too?" our guide asked incredulously. "No, only the French eat those" we explained. At least there was one thing we all agreed on.

A few days after this our guide unearthed an unexpected can of seafood cocktail as we stopped in an aimag (regional) capital for fresh supplies. Excited at the prospect of a decent meal I provided simple instructions on how to make a simple seafood spaghetti (garlic, onion, tomato sauce). It arrived back with beef in it. Enough said.

The Khovsgul horse trip ...

After 2 days of driving north we arrived in Khovsgul aimag (region) and the lake that is Mongolia's premier holiday destination.

It was simply great weather during our 3 days of horse riding along lakeshore and scaling the surrounding mountains. Loads of fantastic scenery - and also some of the best food of our trip as we dined on fresh fried fish which I'd helped a local family pull out of the lake.

3 days of riding and camping later and we returned to the village more than slightly sore - just as the weather turned to icy rain. Just 2 hours later and it had turned to blizzard drifting the snow waist deep in places.

The sudden snow stopped us leaving until much later the next day - but we knew we'd been lucky - had we still been out by the lake with just tents and horses it could have been far worse ...

Heading for the hills ...

Our first stop in Central Mongolia was the soviet-era sanatorium and hot springs at Hjiirt. The whole place has an spookily erie air to it, as the patients shuffle along the corridors at about the pace of your average tortoise.

First we had to for our medical examination - where we had our blood pressure taken and chests checked with a stethoscope. Finally we were given permission to take a shower in the sulphurous waters - but no more than 7 minutes mind you, because apparently the effects could be powerful.

In reality it was exactly the same kind of hot sulphurous shower you get in most hotels in Reykjavik - only with less water and in slightly slimy 1950's shower block. I suspect the medical examination was little more than a placebo to work alongside the supposedly healing nature of the springs ... however after the previous 10 days without access to showers it was extremely welcome all the same.

That evening we camped at Tovkhon Khiid Monastery, just below the 2100m summit of a mountain in the nearby National Park. After a very cold night we awoke to a strange swooshing noise outside our tent - on closer investigation we discovered the reason, it was covered in 2 inches of snow which had started sliding off.

After the tricky 4WD descent back down the now slippery dirt track, our next stop was Kharkorin - site of the ancient capital of the Mongol empire Kharakoum and home to one of the architectural highlights of Mongolia, Erdene Zuu Monastery.

We stayed the night in the Ger district of the city, and the pleasure of being entertained by a local musician. I use the term loosely, as he was bloody awful, we later found out his main occupation is as air traffic controller at the airport - unsuprisingly this was just a hobby and "a little business" for him as he put it.

Our final stop in Central Mongolia was 2 nights at Terkhi Great White Lake - and an opportunity for the first horse riding of our trip. Our preparation had been a series of strictly regimented 30 minute lessons, this was more like getting your hands on Dad's car keys after passing your driving test.

After the 2 hour trek out to the rim of a nearby volcano on our "half-wild" horses, our local guide stopped to chat with one of his mates & just waved us off in the general direction of our camp. At the call of "Choo, Choo" (Mongolian for giddyup) our horses knew exactly what to do, and soon we galloping along with the wind in our hair (well Mel's hair).

The only downside was losing most of our ability to walk for the next few days. Just enough time to recover for our forthcoming 3-day horse trip ... we hoped ..