Monday, June 18, 2018

Ger time baby

After one night in the capital we headed out the Gorkhi-Terelj National Park for our 2 night ger stay. We had a couple of planned stops along the way with our guide Seena and driver Ishwa. First stop was the peace memorial overlooking the city, commemorating the contribution the Mongolians made to the WWII allied war effort. We then went and saw the Chinggis Kahn museum and statue which is 40m tall and the largest horse statue in the world. I held a hunting eagle which seemed huge even though it was a 4yo juvenile. It certainly gave the arms a good work out which made think that last eagle huntriss, for those that have seen the Nat Geo doco, is not someone to be messed with.  

After learning about the Mongolian version of Chinggis Kahn's exploits, which differs slightly from the western one (essentially he was a far better bloke and not just a rampaging warlord), we  drove to the ger camp inside the national park. None of us really knew what to expect but we were all blown away by the beauty of the place. Surrounded by mountains, forests and rolling plains it looked like something out of a movie scene. We saw yaks, wild horses, cattle, groundhogs, eagles and other birds of prey.

Our ger was simple with a coal & wood burner for heating and some basic wooden furniture. It sat on a concrete slab and although they have been modernised a little the basic construction is still like the traditionally gers from 100's of years ago. We chucked our packs inside and then went to the restaurant for lunch. The food was amazing, a fresh salad followed by mutton & spring onion soup then just about the nicest beef I've ever tasted. Slow cooked and so tender it just fell apart. Then right in the middle of my foodgasm Brett starts laughing and points to the door of the restaurant. I look up to see a little Mongolian boy standing on top of the restaurant stairs with his pants down pissing all over the porch. Moment of food bliss over. This was not the last time I witnessed this, apparently when you're a young Mongolian boy the world is your toilet!

In the afternoon Seena gave us guided tour of a nearby Buddhist temple. We learnt about the 108 levels of sin and that one must do 108 good deeds to cleanse them. The Mongols had adopted a more liberal form of Buddhism after they realised that the more traditional form promoted by the Chinese was being used against them. To counter this the were allowed to marry, engage in commerce and have political opinions. This prevented population decline, poverty and blind political compliance.

That night after dinner we played Heads Up (an app like charades) on the restaurant porch and drank dangerously cheap and delicious local vodka. At this time of year it's daylight until 9pm and by midnight the stars light up the the sky.

After breakfast the following day we hiked up a nearby mountain which had some amazing views over the surrounding valleys. We saw plenty more eagles and got some great scenery  pics.

That afternoon we had organised to go horse riding, and although we were warned that they were semi-wild I still had visions of Darryl Braithwaite running through my head. I found out soon enough that the reality was somewhat different. The horses seemed a bit flighty but having worked race horses before I was used to this and wasn't too concerned. After our guide went through the basic controls for a semi-wild Mongolian horse: go, stop, left and right we set off with the guide and her assistant, a young boy about 12yo.

About 10 minutes into the ride some bad weather rolled in and and the wind started to gust, then there was a clap of thunder. Horses, let alone highly strung horses don't like these things. Brett's horse starting bucking and the other horses lost their formation and tried to huddle together. To make matters worse we were crossing a road to a ger camp which had cars entering and exiting. The stupid drivers didn't keep their distance so we had a perfect storm (pun intended). The guide gets off to help Brett then all hell breaks loose. The horses are loosing their shit, the guide is screaming, her young helper is screaming and let's go of his horse. I try to take mine away from the chaos but when I steer it around and it can see what's going on it just tosses me off and bolts. After that everyone who isn't already on the ground dismounts and we head back to the camp in the driving rain. The horseman kindly ask if we'd like to go again once the weather passes but we politely decline. I think they we pissed at not getting paid but I was happy I could walk away with only some swelling, bruising and a slight dent to my pride.

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