Due to the storm on the first day, we didn’t get to play in the sand dunes. Uncle promised Steph he would stop by one on our way to the nomadic host family. We spent too much time running our fingers through the fine sand, taking selfies with the friendly dog, and guessing what creatures might have made the tiny footprints. When Urnaa told me that people in the desert lie down on the sand to cool off during the summer, I felt the coolness of the sand.
So many different sets of footprints. Who left them?
Selfie time at the sand dunes.
Back on the highway, I secretly wished we could stop every time we passed by the many herds of cows, goats and sheep, and then, we stopped. Flat tire. Poor Uncle. Yuka, Steph and Jessie decided to walk up to the mountain pass. Urnaa, Kenric and I wanted to walk ahead to check out an ovoo, a Mongolian shamanism shrine built with rocks. A herd of beautiful horses passed by us. The herder reluctantly waved back when he saw me waving.
People go to ovoos to pray to deities or ancestors. Some stop by whichever ones they encounter while on the road to pray for safe travels. After walking clockwise three times around the shrine, they would find a rock to add to the existing pile. Over time, the shrine grows bigger and bigger. Some also leave things that are precious to them as offerings.
I prayed for an easy drive for Uncle for the remainder of our trip, and also left a quill I found. Someone who’s walking again left a crutch. The resident God of this ovoo must be have been generous. I just read online that nowadays, travelers who don’t have time to stop can simply honk while passing the ovoo. I feel really stupid for waving at every honking car that passed by.
Uncle and his tough Russian-made UAZ Buhanka. At the ovoo on the little hill, I prayed for an easy drive for Uncle. Don’t think my prayer was answered.
The different things people left at the ovoo for the resident God or their ancestors. There was a crutch on the other side.
The three ladies joined us. I reminded Steph and Jessie they’re supposed to walk clockwise. Soon, Uncle rolled up. He was eager to make up for lost time, but somebody (not me) had to use the bathroom; she couldn’t get to the toilet paper until Uncle got there. When she got back, she told us about a cow head she saw laying on the ground. The whole head, still rather fresh. “Just the head? No body?” Kenric had to go investigate. “Is it a sacrifice?” It’s still a mystery.
All Uncle wanted to do was to get to a mechanic while the spare tire was still holding up. Yuka informed our host family about the delay and about missing lunch. Uncle planned to drop us off in a town not too far away so we could find lunch while he was at the mechanic. Urnaa said the town is popular for its hot springs and many people go there for therapeutic treatments. The medicinal spring water and mud have cured a variety of ailments.
Khujirt, a town of a few thousand, was relatively busy. However, we had to drive to a few different places before finding a place that serves fresh cooked food. “Goodbye, Uncle! There’ll be food waiting for you!” We stood outside the minimarket/restaurant for a few minutes before walking towards the bigger stores to find more Soyombo vodka. Urnaa stayed to help the shopkeepers. We impressed upon her that we needed to eat a lot of veggies.
Yuka was always nearby to make sure we were OK. We got Choco-Pie, a treasured snack.
The outhouse near the store didn’t have a door, so I passed. The store didn’t have Soyombo, so Jessie got Chinggis. We watched people as they watched us. The school bus was letting children off. A boy in a lorry waved at me. Herds of different animals were making their way through town. Steph pointed out the bull that had turned around to call for his straggling herd. He was miffed. A herding dog was encouraging them to catch up.
The “toilet” itself wasn’t the problem. Not having a door was.
School’s out.
School’s out.
To me, the restaurant with the best food in Mongolia is the minimarket on the left. Don’t think they’re on Yelp.
Almost ready!
Lunch was ready, but two scoops of shredded salad per person were definitely not “enough veggies” for the four foreigners. We requested a big plate of whatever veggie stir-fry they could whip up. That meal is my best meal in Mongolia. There was no sauce or gravy which is a must when I eat rice, but the simplicity actually made the food taste better, especially the lamb. The best meal is always where it’s least expected just like how this unscheduled stop in Khujirt is one of my favorites.
The lamb was so good.
I wished there was more.
“Uncle’s back!” “Uncle, eat!”
He looked more relieved, and ate quickly. He approved of the Chinggis vodka and opened the van’s side door. No matter how many times we told him he didn’t have to do that, he would still rush to open the door. I think he just wanted to get going. I got in.
“Come here, Puppy!”
I captured the pained look on Uncle’s face as he rubbed the top of his head. It’s a cute dog though. The doors to the modern public toilets were locked, and Uncle was not ready to waste more time looking for toilets. “He is asking why we didn’t go to the toilet when we were waiting,” Urnaa whispered. Everyone kept quiet. Yuka announced that we may be able to find a toilet in about an hour. It was at Ursa Major Geolodge, a sister ger camp of Sweet Gobi. The setting was idyllic. Yuka spoke with the manager and he was gracious enough to let us use his eco-toilets. We didn’t linger this time.
Haha! That look on Uncle’s face! We were hours behind and “Puppy!”
Uncle stopped at Uurtiin Tokhoi Cliff, a scenic viewpoint along the Orkhon River. He was smiling again. I didn’t expect to see pine trees in Mongolia, and it was a beautiful sight. The “road” got more and more bumpy. We were doing about 40 bounces per minute. Yuka spoke with the host again about our delay. Uncle was really focused on avoiding the biggest bumps. I understood why he cringed when he saw how many pieces of luggage we had. I was thankful he’s such a skilled driver. Someone must have quietly asked if we were there yet.
Yuka announced that we’ll soon have to get out and cross the bridge because the wooden bridge wouldn’t support the weight of the van with all of us in it. Vehicles were waiting on both sides and took turns crossing while some passengers crossed on foot. I don’t recall it being as terrifying as Kenric said it was. Uncle was still waiting for his turn, so we went down to the riverbank. Once he crossed, he got out and opened the side door.
Now that I look at it from this angle, yeah, the bridge was scary.
We had to cross that bridge on foot when we got there.
That area was unusually busy, meaning we came across about five cars. None of our crew members have ever worked with this host family. Uncle asked one of the vehicles for directions. The other driver pointed towards a mountain. What’s the “address”? After many more bounces, Yuka announced that the engine was overheating and the van wouldn’t be able to bring all of us up the hill. We walked up the hill while the engine cooled off. The van got smaller and smaller until it was only a tiny dot.
We climbed up this hill while the engine cooled off. The little van down the road is barely visible.
We were all overjoyed to see Uncle again, and somehow the feeling seemed mutual. A few more rough patches, and we finally made it. It’s yet another idyllic setting. Our host family warmly greeted us, and brought us inside. They knew we had a rough journey, and immediately served us something to drink. “It’s fermented mare’s milk”. I don’t know what the alcohol content was, but I knew that was the cue we needed, and that’s the drink Uncle deserved.
Kumis or Airag; fermented mare’s milk. Uncle definitely needed a few.
The table above is listing 10 out of 19 markers (sorted by ID ascending)
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