Irkustk

Early morning wake up, early morning breakfast and then early morning to the train station. We jumped on the train, took our positions and got comfy. A 7 hour journey - beautiful scenery and beds to lay down on. It was an awesome way to travel - vibrations like train/plane/bus/car/drill rig put me to sleep so I slept a fair way. I read a couple of books, ate some cheese sandwiches.......

It did put my mind at ease re: Trans-Siberian though. That's a no. There's no way I'd do it. Four people in one tiny space with no open window is NOT up my alley. Someone/s would die along the route. No way hozay. 7 hours was perfect. We're doing it on the way back to Ulan Ude as well.

We grabbed a taxi today to pick up our train tickets from a tourist office. The taxi driver - the piece of shit - took 1000rubles which is about 5 times more than the price should have been. There was nothing we could do - we needed our bags. So we paid. But minus two points for Russia. That shit shouldn't happen, anywhere.

Irkutsk has a stupid name but it's cool. It's a lot bigger than Ulan Ude. There are lots more bigger buildings and they're so beautiful. They're old but they're cared for. Lots of green bits around - trees, grass, flowers. We don't actually get to spend much time at all here because the tickets to the CircumBaikal were only available tomorrow. But nevermind. My heart belongs to Ulan Ude. I wish it belonged to a Russian in Ulan Ude- oh man, they're so beautiful!

Right, so it's 11:30pm and the sun's finally gone down so I might get some sleep. Early morning again tomorrow to get this train. I was lazy today and only got a couple inside the cabin.

Ice cream and hand kisses

The sun doesn’t go down in Siberia at this time of year until about 11pm. So getting to sleep takes a fair bit of effort for my Australian body clock. It means that I sleep in and wake up at about 9am (unusual for me). Which works out not-so-bad because things here open at 10-11am in the morning. First port of call was the Geological Museum. The first thing that greets you is a boulder of asbestos-containing rock. It props the door open. The asbestos fibres are so alluring – they’re pretty colours and they are like nothing you’ve ever seen. They’re kind of like those Bega Stringy cheese things you can get, only the fibres are already pulled off. God only knows how many children have looked at the rock and gone ‘way cool! Let’s play with these!!!’.

I held by breath as we entered in case those fibres were floating around (FYI: inhaling asbestos is bad) and then proceeded to spend a good hour or so checking out the rocks and playing with some coal core they had.

It’s bloody hot here at the moment.The weather man says it’s 32 degrees but it feels a buttload hotter than that. Due to heat and an imminent sickness (I think my travels are finally catching up to me) I walked back to my hotel room and read a book. The beauty of a Kindle is the ease of reading. The not-so-good part is that I can read a book in a day. Way to chew through the money, Sally. I find myself just skimming through the paragraphs to get to the good bits which means I know what’s going on but the details are hazy and I’ve just wasted the book because if I re-read it, I know the ending anyway! Below: a street in Ulan Ude

I finally coaxed myself out of the room and went for a walk up the mall again and down to a big church. It looked like a big church so I walked back up the mall and sat with an ice cream that melted very quickly. An Armenian guy promptly sat next to me and tried to chat me up for 20mins. His lack of english (none) and my lack of Armenian, Russian or German (none) meant our conversation was limited. He was a 50yo bloke with his shirt half unbuttoned, white polished shoes, a tight floral shirt, gold necklace and slacks ironed with a vertical pleat. He was very friendly and wanted to walk me back to my hotel (no thanks), buy me a ‘soke’ (coca-cola)  and god only knows what else. Eventually he had to leave to go shopping so we shook hands and parted ways.

It was really, super hot today so I sat by the water fountain to get a spray of cool-ness. A Russian guy (part Mongolian) probably in his early 20’s came over and whispered something in my ear with this cute look on his face. I felt terrible telling him I don’t speak english and had no idea what he said. He got a bit flustered and said some things in english to me and then walked away. In comes this crazy looking older Russian guy who does some weird yoga pose and then sits on the ground in front of me (as I was up on the fountain steps) and mimes the way I was sitting. Then he starts to rant in Russian and I got a bad vibe… which turned in to a good vibe and he was very friendly. Post rant, he stood up, introduced himself as Alexander, kissed me on the hand and walked away.

I, myself was a little flustered by this stage so began my walk home – only to be accosted my Russian/Mongolia guy. He was super friendly and had calmed himself a little. We chatted, he would say a sentence and then say something else in Russian, hoping I understood his Russian. Of course I didn’t, but he understood I didn’t understand and so kept trying very hard to make conversation in english. And then he finally got it out – what he was trying to tell me initially was: ‘you are very beautiful’. Once he got that out he was happy and we walked towards my hotel. I said my goodbyes, as did he. 10m later he called out my name and wanted to know my phone number. My Mongolian phone number doesn’t work in Russia which meant I wasn’t lying when I told him I didn’t have one. Then he wanted to know my room number which I also managed to get out of. But he was genuinely nice and was genuinely devastated when he realised we were permanently parting ways. He had the most adorable, but heartbroken look on his face. He said some nice things and we left each other.

What a beautiful guy! I was trying to think why on earth he was that interested. I mean, I’m no sexy beast at the moment, that’s for sure. I had my polka dot hat, yellow thongs, hairy legs (it’s been a month since I’ve been at home Nikki, give me a break), those ugly zip-off North Face pants, a sports bra and a very old yellow sports t-shit on. Hardly the work of a supermodel. Not only that, but I am clearly a tourist (I stick out like a sore thumb even though I’m white). I still have no idea. He seemed genuinely nice, but then, you never know and I always err on the side of super-caution. He also needed a trip to the dental hygienist. Below: the world’s biggest statue of Lenin’s head (in Ulan Ude)

Meeting all those random men happened in the space of one hour……

Tomorrow we’re catching the train to Irkutsk which is a 7 hour journey. We have a bed on the train as I think it’s something to do with the trans-siberian. Interesting. We’re in Irkutsk for one night and then straight on to the CircumBaikal and then staying in Listvyianka for three days in a home stay (which means no internet and I’m not sure what else).

Bumcheeks

a. shout-out to Angus Rae. Sorry you didn’t make it to the Mong with dad; he reckon’d you’d want to do too much ‘stuff’ anyway……. (talk him in to coming in winter, he’s keen to see the snow on the desert. I’ll even take proper Mongolian lessons so I can be a better guide)

b. Russia is great. Ulan-Ude is fab.

c. Russians are not conservatives when it comes to clothing. It’s normal in both Mongolia and Russia for men to pull their shirts half up or completely off (anywhere – supermarket, bus, restaurant). It’s normal in Russia for girls to wear shorts so short you can actually see half their bum cheeks (and I’m not kidding. There’s half a little bum poking outta those shorts!)

4. Eastern Siberia does not equate to cold. Note to self: next time, when you’re going somewhere in summer, pack for the summer. (It’s HOT and I only packed jeans!) Potential get-me-out-of-gaol card: Hack away at my pink nickers to make them short enough to be short-shorts, Russian style.

Above: the receipt for the purchase of my Eastern Siberia Lonely Planet PDF. My Australia credit card coupled with my current location in Ulan Ude meant that it was a bit tricky to purchase this online. I ended up tricking the system (how clever am I!?!) by giving them the above address. FYI, it was my credit card, I’ve got a second card in mum’s name in case I lose mine.

Today was a good day. I slept in, spent some time organising myself and then we walked to the train station to get our paper tickets turned in to real tickets. We lined up for about an hour and got our tickets with ease. Now we’ve got these very confusing pink tickets that we eventually decided were definitely the right day/time/train for what we wanted.

As we arrived on the platform we soon realised why there was so much commotion. The train that had just arrived was heading to Vladivostok. It was a bit of a slap in the face – it’s where we really wanted to go to, but couldn’t really afford the money/time to do so. What did make us feel better was the condition of the train. For a 4 day journey, it didn’t look like a total hoot.

We wandered in to a pretty church where the lady in charge gave us a spiel on Nicholai the Saint that the church is built for (in Russian of course, so I didn’t catch much) and a little laminated card with him on it so we knew who we were praying to. It was very well kept and very well used and had the beautiful smell of beeswax candles hovering in the air.

Below: the vegie garden next to the church; praying inside; the church

 

 

We kept wandering and found ourselves a supermarket (I was desperate for water) that had a beepy thing that wirelessly opened the locked refrigerator door. Wandered some more and found an epic supermarket and I got myself some home-dried apricots, prunes, yogurt, fresh bread and bits and pieces. The smoked fish they were selling looked the same as what dad and I ate on the shoreline of Lake Khovsgol, but it was a buttload more expensive.

Then we wandered to a dead end and we couldn’t bring ourselves to climb under the stationary train (it had just pulled up and other people were just ducking under it like a bridge. All I could imagine was getting most of the way under and then losing my leg and mum saying ‘you stupid, stupid girl’ with emphasis on stupid).

We successfully hailed a taxi and got home – to our front door, might I add! It cost 150 Rubies which is about $5 ish. I proceeded to do nothing all afternoon. For five hours I sat in bed, laid in bed, sat up in bed, slept in bed, played on my computer in bed, Skyped mum and dad in bed…… It was just great.

About 8:30pm we headed out on a photo expedition. There’s a lovely fountain up the road that plays classical music while the water fountain dances to it. I got some cool-ish photos and we kept wandering. Lovely evening – fresh leaf smell in the air, lots of friendly people sharing ice creams and laughing, people holding hands, kids climbing statues – it’s just got the loveliest atmosphere here.

Tomorrow I am hitting the Geological Museum. Bring it on!

Russian Love (in Ulan Ude)

As I expected, I didn’t sleep much last night. I was busy packing and then sad that dad had to go home. My alarm rang at 5:30am and I hopped up, ate breakfast and finished my packing.

Taxi to the bus stop – jumped on the bus and sat there for a good 12hours. It wasn’t super comfortable, but it was by no means the hidous bumpy, thunderous rides of the countryside. We had paved roads the entire way, and I’m glad we did it – it’s really the first time I’ve actually SEEN the cultural transition. The geographical transition is so not related at all. One minute you’re eating beef stroganoff (not the nice kind) with rice in Sukhbaatar, Mongolia. The next minute you’re being serenaded by multiple super hot Russian men at the border. Then you’re on the road and there’s something different……. OH – there’s no gers dotting the horizon, there’s proper roads that we’re driving on, there’s no dirt tracks weaving through the valleys, there’s no half-wild horses roaming around and the land is cultivated. But in general geographical terms, it’s hardly different. The people are though! below: the bus departing UB at 7:30am

Mongolians are quite distinct in their looks and their demeanour. Asiatic features with no smile and not much friendliness or helpfulness. Russians are also distinct in their own way – European with thick blonde hair, angular features and the occasional smile! below: a big smile drew across my face when this lady entered our bus – we’d just crossed through the Mongolian border and this lady was checking our passports for something or other. She was just exactly what I’d ever dreamed a Russian lady would look like: beautiful, leggy, blonde, well dressed and groomed, strong facial features – and the accent, of course!

A SMILE! Oh man, it was so good. I got multiple smiles, a few ‘where are you going’s and a much more pleasant overall feeling. Their toilet wasn’t much prettier though.

Our bus was laden with a group of really friendly, rambunctious, lovable deaf people of all ages. They were obviously travelling together and were having the best time! All their children came along for the ride.

I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch, BUT it was a long journey, so making the destination would have been a ‘yay’ moment in any circumstance. This was particularly ‘YAY’. I stepped off the bus and there was Mozart music playing through a decent speaker, to the movement of a water fountain with children running around playing in it. The buildings are all Soviet style – but they’ve been cared for. Everyone’s dressed beautifully, literally skipping along the street. It feels like a cardboard-cut out of Mary Poppins or The Sound of Music. The atmosphere here is just amazing.

Saying that, the bloody ATM sucked a good 3000 Rubles (I think it’s a lot) from my credit card without giving me the cash. GRrrrrrrrrrrrr. I haven’t figured out what to do yet – but ended up getting some bread and cheese from the supermarket for dinner. (it was actually really yummy)

We have two days here, I can’t wait to take some photos tomorrow. And just play around in the city. It’s really pretty here in Ulan Ude!

Below: our bed. Don’t judge a book by its cover. We’re absolutely delighted with this hotel. A bathroom, hot shower (somewhere, we haven’t found it yet), fridge, phone, Wi-Fi, balcony, close to the main street, clean, friendly…. the next photo is of our fridge, then the next photo is of my dinner – some kind of pumpernickel bread with Edam cheese. YUM

Russia bound

I am just about to head out the door to catch the bus to Russia. Bus travel has never been my forte and I've not done much of it, bar bus trips to school.
I'm sickenly nervous about going to Russia. I think I've packed what I need. I'm nervous about being in Russia - we're not going through an airport to make me feel that bit more comfortable. And I miss dad. It would have been so cool if he could come.
It'll be good once I get there, I can't wait to take some photos. We're away until the 24th July. I'm suppose to go on a work trip when I get back but I'll see how I'm travelling. I might have to pike on that one too.
So, farewell for now. I'll be by the deepest lake in the world, resting hopefully. And reading. After my three hours of sleep last night I feel like I need a really good rest. One big bus ride ahead and then I'm doing just that. Resting.
Xoxo

posted from Bloggeroid

Dad’s leaving Mongolia

The last two days have been hectic. We arrived back to UB from Dalangazdad on a SUPER turbulent flight (eeeeeeek) at 8pm on Saturday night. Dad and I went out for a really nice dinner at the French Creperie. We had a normal crepe and a dessert crepe plus a bottle of delicious French unpronounceable white wine.

Sunday was another busy day.I woke to drums drumming outside – had a look….. it was the army and their ROCKET LAUNCHERS and all the other bits and bobs (bombs, army tanks, rockets, guns, trucks etc.) doing a parade up the street. It was bloody impressive but geez I was glad to be inside for it!

The Yanks that stole our vehicle were opening a Chinggis Khan exhibition at the National Museum that we were invited to. We rocked up and had 3 police shove us aside until one of the really lovely American ladies came out and said that we were allowed in. What a spectacle! Lots of body guards, people everywhere, the Prime minister, governors, UNESCO guys, UN guys, ambassadors… And dad in his sandals (no socks, thank god). below: at the opening of the exhibition

It was all pretty cool – the exhibition’s great and then we got to hang out with our new friends at the German Bakery (yum!). Dad and I went in to work (the weekend was a working weekend nation-wide so everyone gets an entire weeks’ holiday during Nadaam) afterwards and found an empty office. So none of my workmates got to meet dad which is really annoying and upsetting because that was one of the main reasons I wanted him to come. Nevermind, it really couldn’t fit in with our plans or theirs, so he’ll just have to come back.

We headed up to Chojin Lama Temple Museum – an old Buddhist temple (still remaining; most were ruined). We wandered around a bit and then sat and had a listen to some traditional Mongolian music/singing. Cool! below: dad at the temple with a traditional Mongolian helmet on his head

From the temple we stopped at ‘Veranda’ restaurant for a pot of tea and a pizza. Yum. And then headed to my friend’s house for a dinner farewell – she’s heading off and it’s very sad. But it was a lovely night and lots of delicious food! Below: at the party

Today – busy busy. It’s Nadaam! We met in the square and watched a procession of bloody awesome cavalry with big horse hair war thingys and then walked down to the opening ceremony of Nadaam. We didn’t have tickets – it seems that the ticket producers have a deal with the black market peeps, and they only release a few (like, travel companies got 6 per COMPANY to sell) so it was virtually impossible to get them beforehand. We tried for a while, gave up, tried for a while and then got ourselves some tickets to get inside. It was PACKED> and I mean JAM PACKED full of people. TOO many. Our seats were well gone and there wasn’t even standing room. We ended up hanging off the side of the stairwell (literally). It also wasn’t really worth it, but we’ll know for next time.

Dad wanted Horshuur. Yuk. Mutton in deep fried pancake pastry. We looked for at least 1.5hours. He eventually got his bloody horshuur but I tell you what –he better bloody well have appreciated them  (it wasn’t my finest display of patience). No one would serve us. There were food stalls everywhere but no one would give us their horshuur.

We checked out the wrestling, archery and knucklebones and it was as interesting as it sounds. i.e. NOT at all. But that’s cool, I don’t need to do it again. Then wandered to the pub, dad sat and entertained my friends while Sarah and I organised the final details of our Russia trip (I have to be awake in four hours to leave for Russia).

It was really nice actually – I was super stressed and really super upset that dad was leaving (say: big sunglasses) and after the Russia shit was done, I drank two bottles of wine and talked and laughed with dad and my good Mong friends.

We scooted home, had some dinner downstairs and then started packing. I was choking back tears for hours. It’s always so hard to say goodbye. I have lots to do in my final 10months here but it sounds like so long and I just love having him here. So now mum has to come to even it up and then hopefully my work will be a bit better and I’ll have more rest time.

Taxi to the airport and we said goodbye. I cried a lot and hugged a lot and dad cried too and now I’m almost finished packing and I’m still kind of crying. Russia will be great but I need a rest (my fault for booking it so soon), so hopefully once we get there I can chill.

So, dad’s flying to Beijing right now and I have to try to get some sleep.

Love you dad xoxoxo

Gobi Adventure

Driving in Mongolia sucks balls. It’s gotta be the worst way of getting around. Camel and horse riding is uncomfortable but if you did a couple of hours a day, it’d be fine. Driving gives you whiplash and it feels like you’ve been beat up by a bunch of teenagers when you get out of the vehicle. If you’re a car-sick kinda person, it’s even worse. You get thrown around the vehicle and then when you go up and down and stop and start so quickly, you want to puke as well. You can’t sleep because you’re getting thrown around and more often than not, have no seatbelt to hold you in.

The shittest part is, it’s always worth it.

Dad and I departed for the ‘Gobi Adventure’ lodge about a 3hour drive in some direction or another from the Three Camel Lodge. We stopped off on the way to check out mare milking and finally arrived, beaten and thrashed from the car ride, at ‘Gobi Adventure’. (below: dad and the camel with horns!? at the entrance to the ger camp)

The Gobi’s like any desert. It’s amazing and the landscape and vegetation changes dramatically. We’d driven through a 20km long gap in the ranges and came out the other side to mountains that looked like uncooked shortcrust pastry that’s been attacked by little children’s fingers, sand dunes so perfect they could be clean sweeps of thick yellow on an oil painting and vegetation so sparse and green it was enough juxtaposition in itself. (below: the dunes – in between the mountains and the plains)

We were tire-eerrrd. Those car rides really knock you around. But rest is for the wicked and we went on a 2hour camel ride. The bactrian camels down here have two humps (of course) that are a lot pointier than the two-humped camels I’d seen in the north of Mongolia. Two big, pointy humps with a bit of tufty camel hair on top. I plaited my camel’s tuft into a rats tail.

(below: dad holding on to our camels as I put my shoes on)

Camels are more uncomfortable to ride than a horse. A horse is a piece of piss. You can get on and off at your own peril and there’s not that far to fall. The stride of a horse is much shorter than a camels and the saddle, albeit wooden, makes a more comfortable ride than the camel’s spine running horizontally up your bum.

The ride was great though. We spotted some wildlife (a rabbit! dad was unimpressed), watched a camel drink (ohhhhhhh that’s why so many bars are called ‘thirsty camel’ and there are so many references to camels drinking quickly….. because they doooooooooooooooooo), plodded down a channel cut into the sand with an oasis in it, walked through the transition between sparse vegetation to dune vegetation to dune… And then hopped off. There’s actually no ‘hopping’ off a camel. It’s an entirely ungraceful movement of holding on for DEAR LIFE, squeezing your knees into the camel, holding on to the mat under your bum (but secretly holding onto the hump because it looks more permanent and stable) and being thrown forwards and then backwards and then forwards until you’re on the ground.

Anyway, we got OFF the camel and walked UP the dune. I ditched my shoes because in Mongolia, the closest I will get to a beach is a. Khosvgol Lake water (been there, done that) and b. South Gobi sand dunes minus the ocean. It’s a fair hike up a sand dune but it’s pretty cool. The view’s amazing and the sand underneath your feet is so clean and soft. The lines created by the winds in the dunes make for an unsurpassed display of the power of nature. And it makes for a really fun ride back down. No angular rocks to fall on, no slipping vegetation under your feet, no boulders to whack your head on. Just a nice clean, padded run down. (see photos below of me walking up, then down – the BIG dune)

We had a slight mishap. My heart skipped a beat. We were on the home run – our camels were hungry and they were occasionally allowed a bite of the vegetation. We were in a line of three – the guide was holding dad’s camel and dad was holding my camel. We’d all stopped for a quick feed and the front two camels were moving on. Dad had to give mine a bit of a pull to coax him along. He didn’t want to move on, so pulled the opposite direction and his nose ring thing (that holds the rope onto him) ripped OUT of his nose and dad was left with a bloody (literally) T piece of wood in his hand (from the camel’s nose) and a long rope. WHOLEY SHITBALLS. When that rope’s out of the camel, you’ve got nothing but two humps to hold on to. If my camel moved, I had NO IDEA how to ride a camel with no reins if it decided to bolt. It was my second undulate f*ck-up. (first: falling out of the saddle and onto the neck of the galloping horse at Khovsgol Lake) It was no one’s fault and there was nothing I could do but HOPE he was just hungry and would stay in situ while we called the guide and he figured out how to put the nose ring back in.

Turns out it was easy peasy. Instead of putting the nose ring back in, he made a halter out of the rope for his head and off we went (see photo above right of the rope around my camel’s head).

Dinner was dis.gust.ing but it wasn’t mutton so I guess I should be happy. The whole two weeks dad’s been here, he hasn’t been served mutton once. Not fair! Dad found a bloke from Perth, said G’day and then asked for the State of Origin score. We still don’t know who won and it’s Saturday. Perth isn’t much into Rugby League. Bugger. Turns out he was a very interesting guy – breeds dorper sheep and sells their embryos all over the world.

We had a fairly good sleep, hot shower and left the camp at 10am. The guys that we’d met at the airport were also staying at the same camp and were tagging along for the ride with us to Yol Valley (yol means vulture). Turns out their vehicle was a piece of shit and only just made it to the valley. Which was lucky because the valley was COOL! The drive there was suppose to be the ‘short’ way home but we drove for something like 7hours so it most certainly was not.

Yol valley is a channel carved, deep and narrow pass between the epic smooshed up lump of rock that is the ‘spine’ of the Gobi. It is bloody spectacular. It has lots of cute little rat-looking rodents (that we found out this morning are poisonous), lots of green grass and ICE still not melted from winter time. We wandered along and through the river valley and took photos (I got my first slow-movement/foggy waterfall shot – it’s not great but first attempt!) and dad had a go at my video camera. WHO gave him that bloody thing? He didn’t put it down. And then flattened the battery. It really didn’t matter, it was more funny than anything.

 

 

 

 

 

So we loved the valley and took our time and I felt kind of guilty that we made Chucka (our driver) wait for so long. Turns out it was totally unnecessary because the YANKS STOLE OUR VEHICLE!

We got a note saying:

“Your friends will come soon. They are in a hurry. They went to the province Dalangazdad. Please wait here car will come soon”

It was handed to me by some random girl that was coming along for the ride, along with a bracelet that she bought me – even though we hadn’t even shared names. The note made as much sense to me as I’m sure it does to you.

So that was it. Our vehicle had gone to take the Yanks to the airport as they were late for their flight and their vehicle may/may not get them there in time. Bugger. That vehicle had passports, kindles, clothes, water, food – everything – in it. We weren’t particularly worried, we knew it’d come back at some stage and they were in a super rush to get to the airport.

We got to go in the shitty vehicle. We were absolutely STUFFED. I just wanted to get home and get the dust off me. And get out of the throw-you-around-like-a-doll piece of shit vehicle. We stopped at a ger. Nooooooooooooo! I want to go hooooooooome!!!! We had to try airag (fermented mare’s milk). We’d already tried it. We were tired. I didn’t need to sit in another ger and smile sweetly when I felt like death. We had no choice. The airag was a lot stronger than what I had previously tried. More dried cheese. Erk.

Turns out we only stopped there because we had to wait for our vehicle to meet us back from the airport. We played with the kids for a bit (a chubby little 6mth old boy and his older sisters), watched more horse milking and I whinged a bit… As I was just about to lose it, our car came bolting over the hill and screeched to a halt at our feet. Sweet. We were saved. I know I sound ungrateful – ger stops are amazing – but you kind of get over doing things when you don’t want to/eating things you don’t want to/being uncomfortable after you’ve been on a couple of trips. There’s no element of fun to those bits anymore.

 

 

 

 

An hour’s drive home and we were HOME. Shower and feed time. And then I slept well. My sheets and blankets were all in place. When everything’s still neat when I wake up, I know I was tired – too tired to bother rolling around getting comfortable.

Today, we’re doing nothing. I’m sitting at the bar in the lounge room writing my blog, dad’s reading. We’ll go for a wander on the basalt ridge, have lunch, read some more and I’ll probably video the Three Camels Lodge so I can show you how cool it is. Then we’ll head back to UB, rest up and tomorrow is dad’s second last day. I’m a bit sad. To be perfectly honest, I want to go home with him. I have 10 months to go and the last 2 have gone so quickly I don’t doubt the next 10 will too. I just kinda feel like I’ve been here and I know enough and I’d just really like to go home and do some work where I’m actually doing some work. And be able to get around easily, eat the food that makes me function properly (say: fresh food), be with the friends and family I miss so much…..

 

 

Right: a rainbow as the storm passed over the Gobi on our way back to Three Camels Lodge

Left: an example of the slow-motion waterfall photos that I took.