Mongolia

(Chenghis Khan: the original pitchman, long before George Foreman.)

(Markus x 2)

My final four days in Ulaanbaatar were surreal and leisurely. I wrote, hung around a crowded hostel, visited a museum or two, enjoyed a pint or two at the Grand Khaan’s Irish Pub, enjoyed a brilliant Indian meal with a Frenchman and German, marveled at the national holiday spectacle that was Children’s Day, visited one of Asian’s largest markets, reunited with Swiss friends, and said many goodbyes. When it was time to leave I boarded a 7:30am train and set in for one final long haul transit journey, but the thirty-one hours from Ulaanbaatar to Beijing couldn’t have been sweeter. Brand new train, well stocked dining car, solid company, and all the golden Gobi scenery one could handle. So, what else do I have to say about my time in Mongolia? Well, lots but my tank is nearly empty so I’ll close with these final findings:

• At the end of the day Mongolia is one big empty nothing.
• The west is mountainous, cold and rugged. The center is postcard beautiful. The east is flat as a table.
• The people don’t haggle over price or attempt to rip you off. The price you get is the price everyone gets.
• The Mongolian language has been described as sounding like two cats fighting until one throws up on the other. This description couldn’t be more fitting. The sounds are unlike anything else in Asia and simply amazing to listen to.
• Mongolians enjoy a surprising degree of sass.
• From my observations I’ve concluded there are no spiders in Mongolia.
• If China is a rice & noodle country, Mongolia is undoubtedly a meat & potato nation.
• It may be east by geography, but Mongolia is most certainly west by temperament.