MONGOLIA
HighlandRover and the Desert Disaster
I eventually arrived in
The
My travelling companion was Andy, a young man from
Me: "So, how long are you staying in
Andy: "Two weeks."
Me: (immediately spotting the potential of a travel buddy and splitter of costs): "Ah...so, have you got any trips planned?"
Andy: "No."
Me: "Mmmm...Do you fancy a wee trip to the
Andy: "Why, are you planning a trip there?"
Me: "Aye. Do you want to come?"
Andy: "Yeah, sounds good. When do you leave?"
Me: "Och, in about 45 minutes - no rush."
Our itinerary was as follows:
Day 1 - Drive 300 km in a jeep to Erdenedelai and set up camp.
Day 2 - Drive 150 km to Yolyn Am, a 10 km long valley surrounded by sheer cliffs and which has a permanent glacier all year around. Camp <
Day 3 – Drive 100 km to Bayanzag (Flaming Cliffs), famous as a rich source of dinosaur remains - first discovered there in 1922 - and Moltseg Els sand dunes. Camel ride. Camp.
Day 4 - Back to Erdenedelai for the night.
Day 5 - Return to Ulaan Baatar.
However, things did not go quite according to plan!
Day 1 - We packed a few essentials in our rucksacks, met our driver and translator and very quickly left Ulaan Baatar behind as we set off across the steppe. The road was tarred for only a couple of miles outside the capital and soon our jeep, which was not a jeep at all but a small, purple minivan, was bumping along the dirt track road while Andy and I were doing our best not to smack our heads on the roof but failing miserably.
There were gers dotted around every few miles and after about 3 hours we stopped at one of them and met the nomad family who lived there. The mother offered us some horse milk tea which tasted a bit strange but was palatable compared to the next offering. Airag is a cold frothy drink also made from horse’s milk. It tastes very much like fizzy natural yogurt so it makes you gag a bit (unless you are one of those strange people who likes natural yogurt). After the airag came the horse milk cheese. All I can say is that all three are an acquired taste and one that I had no wish to acquire.
Soon we were off again but not for long - our driver stopped the minivan, or Gobi-mobile as we’d christened it, with a wheel problem. After quickly sorting it out we took off once more. The weather was glorious and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. That must be why there were no silver linings either, as we stopped again twice with wheel problems and then once when the front bumper fell off. A passing nomad tried to help before riding off in search of his lost horses.
Around early evening it became apparent that all was not going well up front. Several times the Gobi-mobile had had to do a detour to the nearest ger, or man on horseback, to ask directions. (Did I say that
At about midnight we were set for a good night’s sleep, but not before a visit to the toilet. This was my first experience of a pit loo which was basically a little shed with a hole underneath. The pit was not very deep and the smell was not very fragrant. Added to that, the planks on which I had to stand looked decidedly dodgy, as if they were about to snap at any moment. The loo was in the middle of the village square but there was no way I could shut the door properly (which you had to hold shut with a piece of string which is quite difficult when at the same time you are trying not to pee on your trousers) because I would have been too overcome by the smell. I just tried not to breathe for as long as possible and hoped no one could see me.
Day 2 – After breakfast and haircuts for the driver and translator, we set off again. The steppe became desert-steppe, less grass and a more arid landscape. We saw our first camels, wandering around, curiously watching the purple Gobi-mobile as we drove past. After a couple of hours the engine problems began and we had to stop for some repair-work. This continued regularly throughout the day and was not helped by the fact that the translator appeared to have developed narcolepsy, which resulted in the driver getting hopelessly lost - again. By late afternoon we had to stop literally every 2-3 km to give the engine a rest before carrying on.
We came across some Mongolians in a jeep and hoped they might be able to help, perhaps give us a lift to our destination, which the translator (when he was conscious) assured us was very near. The Mongolians though, who were absolutely plastered, just laughed hysterically when we asked, “Which way is Bayanzag?” before pointing in completely the opposite direction. At this point, Andy and I realised that the Gobi-mobile was not going to last much longer and our minders had no idea where they were going. We would never get to our
We told the translator to get us a camp for the night at the nearest ger and that we would start heading back the next day. A few hours and even fewer kilometers later we arrived at a ger. After pitching our tent in the dark, we went inside and met the family who were wonderful and offered us some refreshments. This time it was camel tea - tastier than the horse variety, strangely, camel airag - still minging, camel cheese – yeuch, and then, just when you thought you couldn’t get any more from a camel, we had noodles and camel meat. (There were six outside the next morning and I couldn’t look them in the eye even though I only ate one bit.)
The grandfather had arrived, very drunk, and gave us the thumbs up while the dad brought out his snuffbox and handed it round. It made me sneeze uncontrollably and the Mongolians laugh their heads off. Then it was bedtime. We were shattered and the tent was full of beasties (although thankfully no spiders). We fell asleep to the sound of dogs barking, camels braying (sounds like someone trying to play the bagpipes) and goats farting – a great aural treat!
Day 3 – Andy and I spent all morning playing with the kids and showing them their pictures on the digital camera while the driver, the translator and three Mongolians took the whole engine out of the Gobi-mobile and then put it back in. At midday, we set off to return to Erdenedelai. All was going well until the translator’s narcolepsy took over which meant the driver got lost – yet again! At the next ger we asked for directions. By this point we were painfully aware of having very little petrol and even more worrying were the big hills we had to get up and over to get to the next town. We made it to the petrol pumps in the nick of time and arrived in Erdenedelai at a respectable 6.00 pm, ready to devour mutton soup and dumplings. Andy and I decided a few beers were definitely in order after our ordeal and sank a few, after instructing the translator that we wanted to leave at a reasonable time the next day. It was then time for a pit stop so off I went. Just in the middle of my wee, a huge, vicious, slavering dog began barking maniacally and running towards me like the Hound of the Baskervilles. I panicked and pulled the door shut while wondering what was worse - getting savaged by a potentially rabid dog or being trapped in a stinking pit loo and not being able to hold my breath as long as a free diver. I then realized that the dog was not actually after me, but some other dog just behind the loo, so while it was busy I made my escape, trousers around ankles, to the safety of the ger.
Day 4 – We woke early ready for an early start only to find our translator was still plastered from a heavy drinking session the night before. In a bid to sober him up, Andy poured a bottle of water over the translator’s head and told him to sort out a jeep to drive us to UB. A report came back that it would take four hours to arrange. Fine we said. Four hours later it became blindingly obvious that we were not going to be returning to UB that night. I, having been (relatively) calm until that point, was not at all happy. Andy spoke to the translator giving him strict instructions that we had better leave at 7am the next morning, or else, before adding, “I wouldn’t go near Lynne today – it’s not safe for you!”
An hour after that, the Gobi-mobile, which had mysteriously vanished, arrived back with a drunk driver and two new passengers – a goat and a sheep. I was inside playing with the little boy who lived there, impersonating the sheep for his amusement, when all of a sudden the bleating stopped. I went outside and saw poor Flossy (and the goat) dead as our engine. I think we had her for dinner that night in our dumplings.
Day 5 – Woke at
Then, just to round off the cata
As for the narcoleptic translator and the directionally challenged driver? They did arrive back safely, but it took them two days. Punishment enough I think!
