Mongolia!!!!!!

The journey out of Russia and on to northern Mongolia, crossing the border after a four hour lay-over was relatively uneventful. Not so unexpectedly the process was wildly inefficient and yet another demonstration of the remnants of artifically created full employment.

Daveski and Fitski set off on a mission to burn the last of the Rubles and returned victoriously with 2 litre bottles of 'beer' and biscuits. We met Joel and Justin from Canada, and an Irish couple who were more than willing to toast this wondrous nonsense with us. Excellent.

The contrasting demeanor between the Mongolians and their ever so friendly Russian counterparts was a breath of fresh air. Having being welcomed to their country (imagine that!) we sped off into the night towards Ulan Bator feeling less like refugees and a little more like tourists. I woke up in time to get some footage of the last few kilometers into the city - a smoky mass of concrete and metal seemingly having plonked itself uncermoniously in the middle of unsuspecting nowhere.

We were met at the train station by a smiling Bayraa, who Dave had met at home through Bayraa's girlfriend, Baikal. He took us on a whirlwind Gran Tourismo spin around the city (up to the Zaisan Memorial for a great view down onto the city and then Sukbataar Square). Before a big, dirty and immensely satisfying full Irish in the Grand Khan Byraat he brought us to the Gandantegchinlen Khiid Monastery for a quick karma session. We ambled through the Temples, stopping in one to gawp at a 27m tall golden statue to Migjid Janraisig (full of herbs and a whole ger tent complete with furniture!). Stalin again gets a mention - his boys decided to melt down the original statue in the 30's and use the metal for bullets -true visionaries.

Anyway, post aforementioned feed of grease and after some unsuccessful haggling with an overpriced tour company we hit the road towards Terelj National Park where Bayraa had arranged for us to stay in a Ger camp owned by Baikal's family. A welcoming bottle of Chinngis Khan vodka was cracked in the restaurant/bar (a giant wooden ger shaped structure) and we whiled an hour or two with our host until he had to leave.

Full of dutch and excitement about the sheer beauty and vastness of the countryside around us we trekked up to the nearest vantage point and peered down onto the steppe and valleys below. Dinner, more beers and vodka with Bayraa who reappeared with two of his mates (just as we were skipping back into camp and shouting the Sound of Music at the hills - haha). As soon as they disappeared back to UB we discovered a karaoke shack attached to the restaurant,..say no more. Now at this stage one would imagine a rest would have been in order..maybe a few hours kip before an active day of exploration. Naaaa.

Birthday party in full swing in the restaurant. A local cattle herder was asked to hop up and give a 'long song' for the guests. He stood up, all four and a half foot of him, threw back his shoulders, tipped his cowboy hat in our direction and proceeded to emanate the most amazing piece of solo vocal contort I have ever witnessed. The famous art of Mogolian throat singing. Simply incredible, its fair to say that we were all blown away (and a little ashamed of our Take That antics a few minutes earlier!..shhhhh).

I got up and warbled through Monto and the Fields of Athenry at their insistance of a response but I felt like a spindly legged fecking Swedish first capper tryin to face up against the Haka. The guitar came out to my rescue and the night proceeded along by now customary grounds. We had arranged a driver to pick us up from Terelj the next morning, and left for UB once again to organise a camping expedition into the countryside/semi desert for the week. More anon.