Day 10, July 28th – still on the road. To Tsetserleg.

Disasters in the fire department, because of a blustery wind that seemed to come from every direction at once, meant that we had a meagre meal of porridge oats, and the washing up had to be done in cold water.

Despite the intense old and general dewiness of the morning, the litter sweep of the camp provided us with a laugh. Will, the present trek leader, told us that he wanted us yo pick up all rubbish “even if it’s a pair of filthy stinker bowers,” – and then proceeded to pick up his first item, which turned out to be a pair of filthy stinking boxers. Not ours, thankfully. Personally I think they looked more like y-fronts.

Once personal cleaning was carried out, the trekkers once again piled into the buses/vans, and we were off on another wacky adventure.

The sights out of the window – sadly passing by too quickly to be photographed – are sometimes mind-boggling. Yesterday we saw camels being driven, huge herds of horses and countless goats and sheep, and today we saw yaks!

All this scenery made up for the bumpy ride – to my reckoning, I’ve cracked my head against the metal frame of the window I sit beside at least seven times. The rodeo style of the ride is quite fun, especially when the drivers take it into their minds to race each other across the bumpy country side.

Consequently we rumbled into Tsetserleg at around 2.00 in the afternoon, and thanks to Chris (accommodation officer for the time being) found a suitable hostel. Only six dollars per bed! Although, since there were only four beds per room, to save even more money the boys and girls only took a room each, with someone inevitably sleeping on the floor.

Yours truly volunteered to take that spot, out of the goodness of my black little heart.

Braving the sudden violent thunderstorm, four members of our number found a wonderful little restaurant for us to eat at that evening, with both Monogolian and Chinese food. There was only a small hiccup when Chris, carrying much of our money for safe keeping, somehow managed to drop it in a puddle, leading to us spreading out the notes across one of the beds to dry out.

A good evening out at the restaurant eating meat patties and egg fried rice, with supplies bought earlier in the day from Tsterleg’s supermarket, the evening was not dampened by Amit’s discovery of titillating chains in the basement beneath us.

Tomorrow, the horses await us at the Great Lake.


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