Mongolia 5 - West to the Border

Thursday 30th August: What a beautiful start to today. The three horsemen of yesterday evening arrived into our camp on a camel train. We ‘talked’ and shared tea and jam on bread.

We were each very impressed with our respective ‘machinea’ (car in Mongolian / Russian); they in our vehicles and us in their camel train. Finally after some Polaroid pics we all parted having touched another world.

Uvs Nuur is the largest fresh water lake in Mongolia, so large they call it a sea. Unfortunately it is very salty and devoid of any fish, surrounded by treeless desert we only stayed for our morning coffee break. As we approached Ulaangom, a small fresh water river flows into the desert from the surrounding mountains. On the river flood plain they are harvesting the native grasses and stacking them into huge piles on the back of trucks for winter feed. All this is done by hand, all very primitive by our standards.

Arriving at the markets in Ulaangom we had lunch at one of the many side stalls. One very large bowl of noodles and meat and that weak milky tea was 1,000T (A$1.00). The market stalls mostly sold Chinese imports, everything from generators to plastic kitchen wear, plus a vast cross section of clothing – Mongolian riding boots to Chinese children’s clothes, many with incorrect English spelt words. In the food hall we had many choices of meats again, this time we could also have chosen horse. Horse meat is dark orange red and was proudly displayed on the shelf above the horse head lying on the floor below. We bypassed that, and stayed with some lamb chops…well actually mutton ribs!

After updating the blog at the local internet, we purchased some fire wood for 1500T (A$1.50) and headed out of town. Just as we left town we noticed they were hand making bricks in the river bed and had them out in the sun to dry.

In Ulaangom we found the start of a bitumen road, the first we had seen for 5,000 kilometres. Travelling the stony desert plain we turned left off this new road onto a mountain valley track. This took us from the plain at 800metres up the valley to a mountain pass at 1,900metres, from here the country changed again completely. Now we are into grassy mountains as far as we can see. On the horizon in two directions are vast snow capped peaks. We are now entering the Mongolian Altai Mountain chain, this we will eventually follow into Russia.
Our camp was in a very private spot on the edge of Uureg Nuur (Lake). The water was mirror calm and reflected the 3,000metre mountains; unfortunately the air is hazy and disappointing for photography. The crystal clear water and rolled pebble beach was inviting us for a swim. Lyn, and with some encouragement, I indulged. As Lyn said “It was like a brain freeze from the legs up”.


Friday 31st August: Shortly after leaving the lake we passed some ancient burial sites containing ‘turkic balbals’. These are squat carved figurines from the 4th or 5th century. There were more of those piles of stones we had seen before but more elaborate, in wagon wheel pattern. Around the outside were then smaller circles again, and long lines of upright stones.
Crossing the next pass, on a very rough two wheeled track we climbed close to the Gods at 2,553metres. Spectacular views only marred by the haze. Proceeding down the other side I managed to get the vehicle bogged in some melting permafrost ground and had to be recovered by Bill’s winch.
Finally back into the valley (but still at 1500metres) we found two deer stones that are well preserved. We are becoming very proficient in archaeological discoveries.

Camp is by Achit Nuur (Lake), surrounded by those wondrous rugged mountains, and closer, grazing camels and horses. On the lake are magpie geese. Another magical orange sunset ends today.


Saturday 1st September: Following leaving the lake we crossed the only bridge we have seen for some time and began to follow the river valley. The river provides a micro climate in this semi arid area. Lush grasses grow beneath what I have guessed as cork wood trees. So lush is the area that the number of gers is significant. They are now Kazakh people in this area and their gers have a higher done than the Mongolian type. The Kazakhs migrate back and forth between Mongolia and Kazakhstan following the feed for their herds.

We give a lift to a family of four to the next village we are travelling to, but that plan falls apart as the town is on the other side of this major river, and there is no bridge. The track at this stage has all but disappeared and when he indicated that we can cross and puts his hand on TOP of the bull bar to indicate the water height, our immediate response is ‘No way’. The family then strangely and confidently continues with us on the hour drive to Olgly, the capital of this region.

Olgly is very different to other Mongolian towns, again that Kazakh influence. Gone are the gers in town, now we have mud over timber built square houses all with flat rooves. They are not, but they look like Mexican hacienda type. The markets also prove uninteresting to us, we think and hope we bought cow steak, but it could be horse!
Our plan to drive up the valley to the snow topped mountains was thwarted by being unable to cross that river, and also Bill’s decision that he did not want to drive back the 30 kilometres on the other side of the river from Olgly. Being Saturday, we had to kill some time as the border crossing is not open until Monday, hence we chose another valley in the border direction, but this proved an uninteresting drive in a mostly desert area.

Our camping spots have been breathtaking; tonight was just beside the track!


Sunday 2nd September: We were only 20 kilometres from the border so decided to go there just in case our information was wrong and it would be open. The border gates are definitely locked, and the small village of about 30 houses (actually huts) pretty much looked deserted. I chose to just back track 5 kilometres and pick a line up one of the treeless valleys where we would wait for the border to open tomorrow.

The afternoon drifted by until a singing herder on horseback dropped in to say hello. He was looking after his flock of 2,000 goats, and as the goats slowly walked by, he shared coffee with us. Eventually he left and we sat down to our afternoon drink. Within minutes the herder returns on his old motor bike with his son, two other relatives, a bottle of Vodka, and some dried uncooked goats meat. He is Kazakh, and from the ger further up the valley. Dauletchan, speaks Russian, has been a soldier for 3 years, studied vet science for four, been Mongolian boxing champion, and now happy he has his herd of goats. He pours the straight vodka into his shallow bowl, dips in his ring finger and flicked a drop to the sky, to the earth, and to the wind. With the vodka blessed the cup was passed around to all, each time being refilled.

Lyn and Gay are smart enough to say no after the first two, but Bill and I are building international bridges and continue. He wanted to buy my binoculars and I think is offering some goats in payment. I was still sober enough to resist. Bill was perhaps not so and in a profound gesture gave away his Outback Challenge beanie, AND his binoculars. We add another bottle from our store, and before I know it one of the brothers has also returned from the ger with more vodka. It was a good evening and Bill and I were staggering at the end. I am not quite sure how I still managed to cook dinner.

The next morning I am sure one of these vodka bottles was still sideways in my head.


Monday 3rd September: Dauletchan had invited us to visit his ger at 9am before we left for the border. Kazakh gers are far more colourful inside, and the walls were covered with very bright cloths. The timber roof supports were bright red against the white canvas, and these supports were interwoven with multi-colour belts of platted material. The inside was clean and very spacious. A pile of seven old style suitcases obviously were their clothes draws.

Dauletchan, had a wife, two sons and a daughter, I am not sure why, but last night I do recall he proudly showed us all that his nine year old son was circumcised!
His elder brother Ackmed also is married with two children. We all sit on the floor around the low table. On it, is a selection of sweets, the pastries we have seen cooked before in the animal fats, and some dried dairy product, which we have found to be not very pleasant tasting. The tea is very weak with yak milk. As we talk out come the vodka bottles, but we are smarter today and kindly refuse with the excuse that we have to drive across the border. Thankfully they accept this as a genuine excuse.


With the last of our Polaroid pictures taken of the family we depart Mongolia with great memories of a wide open country and friendly people.