Tuesday 28th June

After a stressful morning of wondering if we’d packed the right gear and food, we mounted our horses. Only after telling one of the camp ladies twice (the second time with her gear in her hands, ready to go) that we didn’t need and ‘English’ speaking guide. Her English was terrible and she was adamant she was going to learn off us. We didn’t need an English speaking nor did we want to pay for her or feed her. In hindsight this sounds terribly rude. In context: every second person you meet wants to use you to learn English, and you kind of get over playing ‘nice’ to people who don’t want to be your friend – only want to learn English.

We got on our way. Two hours in my ass was thoroughly sore. My horse is a ‘fast’ horse – the same one I had the other day. i was lead on a lead for the first few kilometres…… And was about to chuck a wobbly when he finally let me go – making sure I knew to hold tight on the reins. And tight I did – the whole way!! He was a gunner! (below: me on my horse)

By the end of the 40km ride he was a bit less psycho. I had a great time on him though. He was pretty responsive and we got to go fast.

We followed the shoreline for about 25km through forested bits and rocky bits. Then we climbed. Up and up and up until my ass was red raw. (below: dad on his horse, going up and up and up – lake in the background)

Oh man, was it ever worth it! The view of the lake – the smooshed structural geology, the alpine wildflowers, the acres of meadows at 3000m altitude.

Then, of course we had to ride back down. We walked the horses for a bit and then plodded on down. Lots of wild parsley, aniseed, rhubarb, spring onions. Coupled with the smell of the fresh pine leaves, we were in a somellier’s heaven. It wasn’t far from it for a normal person anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

Reindeers. We didn’t see any reindeers.

They’re quite contentious. The money hungry Tsaatan people (reindeer herders; and, who wouldn’t be – if you had the opportunity to better your lifestyle, you’d take it, right – at any expense other than your own?!) are very nomadic people living high in the Khovsgol mountains. Reindeer have adapted to the cold weather, the high altitude and the food that goes with the territory.

That territory is very inaccessible for the normal tourist. so some Tsaatan buy a couple of reindeer (five, usually), bring them closer to the lake (and therefore the tourists) and charge people to take photos of them. The reindeer more often than not are part of an annual intake. They die, so they buy new ones and it’s worth it. They make enough money to afford the business of dying reindeer.

So, I’d bloody love to see reindeer. So would dad. When else would we ever see one? So, do we support this unsustainable business (there’s not many reindeer left) or do we miss our once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of seeing one? We’re undecided.

We’re camping along the lake and by ghost it’s lovely. Dinner – not so much. Pasta with a tomato sauce with lots of bits in it. The stupid cooker burnt the sauce and the tomato paste was gross. Lucky I filled up on Nutella beforehand.

(below: my horse; dad and his posy of hand picked spring onions; preparing dinner)

The horses are resting for tomorrow. We’re in a tent and the guides are outside in their sleeping bags. Three of us are squished into what we would call a two man tent (fits two swags and nothing else). It’s quite cosy, to say the least. It’s also about to rain, but bugger it. I don’t care – What A Day!