Tourists are present in Rome 24/7/52. Maybe the numbers are greater in Spring and Summer but they are always there.
As a diversion to more news on Rome, this posting takes us to a place all but devoid of tourists at this time of year.
After spending four very colds days (nights) in western Europe – a couple in the Hague (Den Haag) then a couple in Brussels – with a train trip in between, involving an hour standing on Rotterdam station in sub-zero temperatures, I decided to go all out and spend a week in Mongolia – actually in what was known as Outer Mongolia.
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| On the Steppes |
Europe has been gripped by severe cold conditions for the end of autumn and first couple of weeks of winter, with heavy snow closing schools in England and disrupting transport on the Continent. Even Rome has been colder than expected. My trip to Mongolia went via Paris and Seoul. We arrived in Paris just as the snow started and were probably one hour too late as de-icing of the aircraft became necessary, involving long delays in the de-icing bays before takeoff. We made our connection however in Seoul and flew Mongolian Airlines to the Capital, Ulaanbataar (or Ulaan Bataar or “UB”).
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| The horseman |
On arrival, the temperature was -22 degrees Celsius – definitely a new experience for this boy from Brisbane. In fact the outside temperature, as gauged by the thermometer in our car, ranged between a balmy minus 4 (very briefly one morning in a country town about 250 kms from Ulaan Bataar) to minus 31 when I was dropped off at the airport to go home. Of course, almost everywhere we went was heated and the cold was really only felt when going between hotel and car or office and car. But after 15 or 20 minutes outside, any sub-zero temperature seems to bite.
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| Sharing hospitality in the Ger |
Mongolia surprised me. Ulaan Bataar lies in a long valley with only one major road but lots of intersections. It seems that recreating grid-lock is the national devotion. Never let anyone in, and block every intersection you can. Officialdom had to come to my rescue, as I found my checked-in suitcase didn’t make it and they had no idea where it was. (Note for file – if you wish to lose luggage, try sending it through either Leonardo da Vinci, Rome or Charles de Gaulle, Paris – I did both).
The Mongolians I met were very pleasant and I obtained a great deal of help. They even got my suitcase to me on the third day. Mongolia is surprisingly modern, still emerging from the “socialist days” when part of the Soviet Union. In the centre of town is one of those very expensive malls that sells Armani and Gucci that you can see almost anywhere these days. The women are generally very fashionably dressed and the younger ones look very “Roman”, except for perhaps warmer coats and being Mongolian. I felt like back at home in Rome with “spray-on” designer jeans everywhere.
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| With hosts in Ger |
After a couple of days in Ulaan Bataar, I formed part of a convoy of between three and six four-wheel drives (the numbers varied as we moved from province to province). We stayed overnight in a small town called Gobisumber, just north of the Gobi Desert and about 250 miles east of Ulaan Bataar along a highway that runs next to the Trans-Mongolian Railway line, in what must have been the cheapest hotel I have ever stayed in. Mongolia has a population of only two point something million and half of those live in Ulaan Bataar.
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| Farewell from the wintering place |
Mongolia is famous for lots of things, including its “Gers” (generally known as “yurts” but that is not the Mongolian term). Ulaan Bataar has extensive “Ger Districts” where everyone lives in a Ger, and even in the centre of the city, your hotel will have a Ger and they are spotted around for caretakers etc to live in. The Ger is a circular (they say five sided but they look circular to me), structure of lattice walls and 81 thin rafters supporting a central hole where a stove-pipe sticks through a sort of skylight that allows the temperature to be controlled. The whole thing is covered by felt and that makes it very cosy, indeed. But in Ulaan Bataar, the now-coal fired stoves that allow the Gers to work, send a cloud of pollution over a city that doesn’t get much by the way of clearing winds.
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| Lunch |
During our country sojourn, we were welcomed at two locations by traditional nomads in their Gers. First, the home of a couple who were either elderly or had had a particularly hard life – one would expect the latter. They had re-established their Ger in the “wintering place” – an area that they call “their’s” and have a log hut, not to live in but to store the winter supplies in, and a few low hills around to divert the coldest of winds.
They welcomed us into their home through the single low door that always faces due south. In front, the stove, to the right the woman’s area with her single bed and a small area for kitchen things, to the left, the man’s area and his single bed and opposite the door, the visitors area and the shrine to the Buddist god.
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| Snuff??? |
We had a fairly big troop, including a journalist and camera-person from the main commercial TV station, but we all found seats somewhere or sat on the floor. The herder rode up on his Mongolian horse, dressed as they have dressed for centuries in an ornate robe with ultra long sleeves that can drop down and serve as gloves. After a little compulsory small talk about how well he was “wintering” so far, we were served the welcoming bowls of “milk tea”. We were also offered food in the form of dried curd, a slightly bitter and salty concoction that looks likes a shortbread biscuit but is almost impossible to penetrate with one’s teeth.
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| Visitors and family |
A little later on, some drive away, we visited another family who, at very short notice, provided our troop of perhaps 25 with lunch. More milk tea and dried curd, but also a noodle soup and roast ribs (I am not too sure what used to use these ribs to breath – cattle, yaks, sheep, goats and horses were possible – but I am punting for the beef). The senior herder (he had three sons and their families in other Gers) commenced the carving process and cut off two small pieces of fat. These went first, into the fire and second, onto the shrine for the god.
Then we all had to have a carve and eat some meat with our hands. While this was going on, the vodka was brought out. Most importantly was the home-brew which had been made by fermenting milk in the Ger – just one bowl of this had to keep circulating while several glasses of commercial vodka were offered and no matter how small the sip, had to be topped up before offering to the next person. A bottle of snuff was also passed about the men folk.
These were remarkable “skylights” for me to observe the functioning nomadic family and to be a part of them briefly. I thought I was in heaven. Out hosts were generous and attentive and seemed to love us all being there. Yet so ancient in almost all respects. Almost all? Well both families did have satellite cable TV, driven by a wind turbine and a solar panel outside. And both had their mobile phones hanging of the rafter sticks.
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| TV interview |
I have included one photo that I think says it all about Mongolia – our first hosts being interviewed for the national TV news.
After some hours driving over the Steppes, our group separated with fond farewells and .... vodka. This time the first pouring was (to our surprise) thrown into the air where we all received a spray, then the remainder of the bottle was shared around. Ahh! Tradition!!!
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| Gazelles on the hoof |
So, after only a week, it is easy to develop an affection for this country, once the terror of the world through Chinggis Khaan, and now a developing economy with mining injecting capital and a modern city developing hand in hand with a traditional nomadic lifestyle that is hard to see disappearing in the near future. And some 40% of the population are nomads.
Add to that, the expansive plains (Steppes) and rugged hills and mountains, mostly covered now by snow and ice but no doubt a green carpet in the brief summer. The plains abound with Mongolian white gazelles in groups of up to 3000, and we saw thousands of them. We returned safely to Ulaan Bataar through a blizzard in -12 degrees C and strong cross-winds causing snow-drifts on the road.
Anyway, on this blog I don’t often expand much on the countries I visit – but Mongolia was certainly worth it.
Ciao
Chinggis Ian
