June 30 2012 Ulaanbaatar

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These pics were taken at a textile stall in the Black Market. Traditional braids used on traditional clothing. Textiles and sips are among some of the memories I will take away from Mongolia. If there is one thing Mongolia does well it is the beautiful clothing using traditional and modern silks to make deals and shirts and all manner of clothing. Most smart restaurants cloak the chairs and tables with fabric and much is used in curtains and all manner of things.

Today we visited yet another of Tugsoo’s artist friends. This time a wonder painter of ink work and a sculptor who also happened to have a gallery home housing amazing antiques from hundred of years and mostly Mongolian relics. He is also from a buddhist monk dependency and was the keeper of some ancient hand written works by monks. He was very interesting and gave me a reading from the knuckle bones and coins. I am to go to the temple 58 times to pray. Tomorrow Tugsoo and I will return to the temple nearby to begin my work. As we are leaving I’m a few days I will not be able to complete my prayer work. Tugsoo will complete it for me.

Interesting, it is the temple which is nearby and which we have walked through several times and of which I stopped in a photographed the Hugh wooden balls that reminded me of Grace’s carved Red gum balls. They are actually prayer beads – enormous ones.

I bought one of his ink paintings as I had admired them greatly in the History museum and was very pleased to meet the artist today,

After our visit we went back to the UMA gallery and sat with our show for a while. Mervyn and I went off in search of a book of the artists work we had looked st in his home. It was a long shot as it was published in 2006. Could not find it anywhere and presume it is well out of print. What was special was that it had photographs of Mongolian landscape and then his ink drawings printed as overlays of ancient warrior drawings and other ancient life activities that would have taken place at the place of the photo. It helps the viewer see the modern landscape with a sense of history’s I have never seen this before.

Elections are over and it still the democratic party seems to have the majority of votes. The result is like Australia, close to a Jung parliament. Deals are being done and. As our friends said maybe 10cents worth of change.

June 29 Ulaanbaatar

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On the way to our exhibition we walked into the city from our apartment and visited the newspaper office, Mongol Messenger and the editor said my story will be published tomorrow but without a bionic of my name as story was about me so really I just wrote our story. The UB doesn’t seemed to have published the second story I wrote so its a pity a whole story wasted. Indra asked me to write a story of impressions of Mongolia to be published after Nardam. I will have time to return home and reflect on the past seven or eight weeks

We also visited one of Tugsoo’s artist friends who had the largest private studio I have yet seen in UB. He has been exhibiting in many countries, good money for his work and has large, bright spacious apartment gallery. He had invited us to visit at the opening,

It was another full Ulaanbaatar day with many people visiting the gallery and one other tv interview for Eagle TV and another newspaper. The TV was on one hour after they came and repeated at 11.30pm. We caught the late viewing and it was quite a long story with many paintings and comments by all of us but mostly Tugsoo speaking over our voices.

There are many Mongolian artists who come to gallery and want to have connections with Australia, or have been to Australia. We seem to be gathering a growing number of name cards and I am all but out of business cards.

The weather is getting hot. The elections have been called in favor of the democratic party but with some disputes. Apparently there were some greens seat held.

We left the gallery in the late afternoon and attended an opening of Korean and Mongol art at the history museum. This is where our last show was held. Suurel opened this show. Anyway, we went off to the children’s Park and saw a traditional dance and music show and later dinner with the Koreans. Many speeches later we were invited to exhibit with the group next year in Korea.

We will see…

It is not hard to find an opening or performance in Ulaanbastar. There is at any onetime an array of artistic activities to see. Tourist season is also hitting yo as the artists hit the streets with. Bundles of art in folders to sell tourists for a reduced price and because you are good customer, even a better price. They stand in streets and at cultural venue doorways. It’s all part of the color that is Mongolia.

Just thought I would add this pic from the Gobi desert…

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Hustai National Park

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the Hustai National Park is now the only place where the wild Monglian horse can roam free. The Takhi (Prezwalskii) horse became extinct in Mongolia and through a world breeding program have been reintroduced to this 50,000 hectare park.

The park is approximately 120 kilometers from UB.

Saruul, our Mongolian artist friend invited us to stay overnight in a ger camp with him and also Tugsoo. Saruul is director of the History Museum. We Had a driver and a large Land cruiser to travel through the park.

The west of UB road to the park in also the road we travelled to khorkhorin two years ago and thankfully in a much better state than back then. It did however take us back over the atrocious muddy roadworks of recent trips. The cars slide about all over the place and in parts are still directed through service stations and I hope the servos are being compensated for no one in their right mind would try to stop to buy petrol!

Also along this stretch is the most beautify green steppe. The dry hills have turned green since our last journey here a couple of weeks ago. It is truly a glorious sight to see the great green plains of the steppe country wander into the mysterious horizons.

For first time we saw long stretches of fences with crops and possibly potatoes growing for miles. The new food basket of UB? The trouble with fences is it cuts down the herding options for the nomadic people who have had their own kind of boundaries for hundreds of years.

Small towns along the way service the cashmere and wool industries, buyers, sellers, rough looking fenced factories and all sorts of industry on the Edge of UB.

Turning into the park area we drive once again through little Gobi sand dunes dotted with small trees. These sand dunes far more lush than further south. There are many wild flowers coming out and small herds of horses sheep and goats.

We stayed at a large ger camp on the edge of the National Park and decided on having a large lunch and a siesta so we could drive into the park in the late afternoon and watch for the horses to come down from the rocky hills and feed in the river valley.

It was a sensible option. We headed ten kilometers on from the camp into the beautiful park and saw many marmots and prairie dogs scampering about their burrows. We came across a herd of goats and sheep, though herding was also banned in the park… There was only one fork in the road and we had taken the wrong one, as usual. We headed into some really stunning landscape and stopped many times to take photographs. We met another vehicle asked the way and offered to follow the truck back to the other fork. In the back of the truck were two very unhappy looking goats, guess someone’s dinner tonight. And Nadam Festival is coming up soon and goat is always a celebration meat on the menu.
Back on the right track wevery soon came across out first small family of wild Takhi horse. Not so far off the road there stood a group of small chestnut horses with their distinctive short main and stocky build. And one white horse with foal. It was something special. Able to take some good photographs with canon camera for downloading later at home.

As we moved around the park we were lucky to come across about 50 of the horses. In one beautiful valley we stayed and painted for a couple of hours. Many small rodents, grasshoppers and insects played a concert for us.

As the evening approached and the air grew cold we saw more family’s in growing herd numbers up to a dozen or so horses together.

It was nearly dark by the time we returned to our ger and prepared a slap up meal by the warmth of our ger stove. And a delicious sleep again under the covers of sheep felt in the round walled ger room.

We gave ourselves a generous sleep in this morning. It began to rain and we returned to Ulaanbaatar satisfied we had a good session with the wild Takhi horse.

it is election day tomorrow. All the faces posted across Ulaanbaatar have vanished and we have been still urged not to go out tomorrow for the fear of riots. This stems from the riots in recent years after elections. The warning has gone out to American nationals and other western peoples in Mongolia. We had planned to sit in the gallery with our exhibition with Tugsoo.

Desert Sharing III

The DESERT SHARING III project Exhibition opened last night at the UMA gallery in Ulaanbaatar Mongolia. It was opened by David Lawson, the Consular General and Trade Commissioner for Australia who has announced the Desert Sharing Project is now officially part of the Australian and Mongolian’s 40 year celebration of Consular Relations.

The exhibition was well attended by the artists of Mongolia and other foreign visitors. Many speeches were made, mostly in Mongolian and music played.

For this showing of the Desert Sharing project Dr. J. Saruulbyan was invited to exhibit hs work too.
Saruul is the Mongolians History Museum Director and a fine writer, poet and painter who comes from Khenti aimag. It was due to his invitation we had our last exhibition Desert Sharing II at the museum. Of that he had been impressed we had gone to the far north east of Mongolia to work in his country. Most city Mongolians these days have roots in the countryside and have deep connections with their land. The pride of place is strong in Saruul’s work and when he talks of country.

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Preparations for DESERT SHARING III EXHIBITION

Preparations for exhibition at the UMA Gallery in Mongolia are almost finalized. Today we delivered the works to the gallery.

Opening tomorrow evening at 6.00pm. We have Australian Consul and Trade Commissioner David Lawson to open the show along with the director of the Mongolian History Museum Dr. J. Saruulbuyan. We have also invited Saruul to exhibit with our work. Saruul as well as being director of history museum is also a very fine visual artist as well as a writer and poet.

The UMA Gallery is very large and we can accommodate Tugsoo and Saruuls large paintings. Unfortunately we were unable to bring large works because of the difficulty bringing from Australia.
We have smaller works and many photographs from various Australian and Mongolian landscapes taken over the past years travel together.i have had prints made in Mongolia 60 x 40.

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Ulaanbaata, June 23, 2012

We have been back in Ulaanbaatar now for a few days and mostly have been preparing for next Desert Sharing III Exhibition to open on Monday evening at the UMA Gallery in Ulaanbaatar.

Preparations have included working on some of the paintings started in the Gobi Desert, selecting and printing the large photographs for the exhibition. It is fortunate that most places here are open long hours so we can source materials and services.

As we have commented on previously, Ulaanbaatar is quite a different place to the serenity of the Mongolian countryside. The traffic in the city is chaotic and with the recently rain even more hideous to negotiate because there are huge puddles; or small lakes on the roads and footpaths. There are some crazy drivers who delight is speeding past pedestrians and soaking them with muddy spray. There is little attention paid to the drainage system and a mystery as to where the water is supposed to go.

Have met some Australian Soroptomist women for a second time in Tugsoo’s studio. They have been on a couple of adventures into the countryside and took a short horse riding tour. spring was not the best time to work with animals as the herds have recently come out of winter and as they described grossly thin and unwell. For a couple of mad horsey women this was very distressing. Summertime is when Mongolia comes alive. It’s the time for the large Nardam festival and all manner of festivities and holiday time. Schools and universities close for three months. Students often use this time to get out of the city and work in holiday ger camps to make some money, or anywhere they can find work.

Had another day in the country with Lkhamaa whol took me back to her relatives ger camp with the beautiful Yaks to meet Otga again and have a dress fitting for the traditional dell she is sewing for me. It’s a beautiful piece of Textile art and will be the most treasured spending I do in Mongolia. I plan to use the outfit as part of our Mongolian exhibitions in the Eltham South gallery. The dress is constructed from a turquoise blue silk with various bands of embroidery and the outer coat a red silk with black and gold braid. It is a traditional married woman’s celebration outfit. The sleeves will be made of green stitched silk and will hang down to my knees. This is so when the Mongolian cold weather sets in you can tuck your arms inside the sleeves. It is not a simple outfit for everyday use!

Staying at the ger camp currently as about 30 wrestlers in preparation for the Nadam Festival. We were lucky enough to be able to watch them training, in their colorful wrestling costumes. Otga usually does all of the cooking for the camp and at the moment is very busy with the wrestlers who need to be fed three Huge Meals a day! It’s hard to find sewing time between the food preparations, the wrestlers will train right up to three days before Nadam And have a couple of days at home and then fight for real against each other again.

It was surprising how quickly the spring brown grasses have turned to a healthy green and the scent of the new growth is unforgettable. I have probably talked about this particular smell of Monglian grass before. If only it could be bottled… The smell is a fine heady aroma of the best and freshest herbs including tyme, lavender, sages, clover and dandelions. The flowers are blooming now. Whereas Australia Springtime is usually the time our flowers come out here it is definitely summertime. The sad looking apartment blocks are becoming more alive with grass in the garden beds and many blocks have planted flowers such as marigolds. The city is changing and beginning to look less tardy.

The streets are also amass with political propaganda. Elections will be held on June 28, right in the middle of our exhibition. historically this has not been a good time I have found from experience to hold an exhibition. It has happened before that after booking a show the elections have been called. There are vans spouting party flags all over the city, huge billboards on the sides of apartment and city buildings, streets littered with faces full of promises to help the living conditions of everyone. One party is promising to pipe hot water into every ger in all the ger districts. That is according to locals a pipe dream… Other politicians promise to rehouse people in ger towns into the new apartment buildings. There are even promised to fix the traffic, the roads, cost of living and inflation. Speaking with people I meet there doesn’t seem to be a clear party that is considered Good. There are parties with members before the courts for corruption and all manner of questionable dealings. There is a flurry of road works taking place, but in most situations it seems cosmetic. It’s the big issues like drainage and complete resealing instead of ad hoc patching that needs to take place. The disabled here simply cannot get around, with any kind of ease.

I think one of the differences between life as I understand it and living in Monglia is that the people do not have expectations as the western life has. If you lived with the same expectations you would be very disappointed.

An example of normal life is after returning from our Gobi trip Unench parked his car, as he always does in his garage. This is not attached to the apartment but around the block in a car parking lane.

Overnight there had been some construction works, or perhaps it was from the new apartment block being built next door, a large chunk of concrete dumped outside his garage door. The concrete waste is far too heavy for one man to attempt to move alone. Phone calls were made to try and have the concrete moved. No success and who really is responsible? Unench has not been able to get t his garage since. Eventually this afternoon we found a shovel and a short of crowbar in our units verandah and between Mervyn and Unench they managed t move the lump. There are bits of building waste and rubbed all over the city dumped anywhere. I was surprised how calmly Unench and Tugsoo treated the inconvenience, in Australia we would have been jumping up and down and someone perhaps would have been sued.

Unench tells me there are laws in place here for such things as we have in Australia as far as people being injured from dangerous public works. The difference is if you tried to act upon it there would be no hope of any success. Perhaps somehow the blame would be put back on the injured party.

That’s enough for now, have to finish cataloging the new works. We hang the show tomorrow.

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Camp 12 – Back to Ulaanbaatar (End Gobi journey)

It was difficult to sleep with the noise of the German and Korean tourists partying on all night. The bed in this camp is also the most uncomfortable we have had, which is a pity as it was our last night out before UB.

We had a little visitor who had managed to cut a hole in the soy milk overnight with his little teeth. We have fed much wildlife this trip.

It seemed to be cooler today with an overcast sky as we left the camp for the curious journey back home.

The camp guides suggested we take the local roads back to UB as the main road is not good. This entailed a rough instruction if just keep to the tracks and follow a north easterly direction and you will eventually find your way to UB. We had previously vowed to keep to the main roads as we kept getting lost in the unsigned posted tracks that litter Mongolia. Never the less Unench set off over the mountains and up and around rocks and barely visible car tracks. At one point the ‘road’ disappeared completely at a ger camp. We were then sent off on another ‘track’ that came to a group of horses and people.

This aw a very special day, it was a full moon and the day the local ger camps meet to try out for Nardam. Nardam of course being the most famous and important festival held each year in July in Mongolia. Nardam is a horse race run over 25 kilometers and mostly by young children, it is spectacular for traditional costume and more horses than people. We were fortunate to attend one two years ago when we we’re last in Mongolia. So we understood a little of what we saw.

There we’re two lines set up on poles which the horses were hitched too. A very famous horse trainer was here giving the young ones special instructions, a couple of family groups mostly in deel and a monk ringing bells and saying prayers for the racers with beads.

We stopped to ask the way and were immediately invited to share some airag. We had pulled up just as the monk was doing bit and the adults were preparing the vodka and milk drink. A small table was set up in the green field with cloth and a bowel of sweets and milk products. I watched as one of the woman poured milk in small dishes and vodka into a silver dish she first offered the priest the vodka of which he took a drink, then it was offered around and to us first. The vodka was then mixed with the milk product and we were each given a dish to drink. Tugsoo kindly offered to drink mine after I took a polite sip. I am unable to drink dairy and in this country that is a difficult thing to negotiate. After the airag came the fresh made yoghurt. I am finding this a little more palatable and actually enjoyed the small sips I had before passing it over. I am not sure how mvuh I can handle… And as far as vodka, I have been sworn off it after my last ‘taste’ on the last day of the exhibition with the museum director at lunch. Never again…

We stayed here for what seemed like quite a while. I was. Ross I had run out of memory space this morning and rattled through scan cards to see what I could delete so I could take some good photographs with the canon camera. This was a photographers treat and a privilege to be here at this special occasion for the Mongolians. We hoped we brought them luck, the foreign visitors I’m their patch. We were still more than two hundred kilometers from UB.

Eventually we left the party of beautiful horses and outfits. I will always remember the Mongolian horse, it is a wild horse yet living with families. They are wild in their nature and not shy to fall down and roll in the dirt and standing grunting and snorting and rubbing each other affectionately. They seem the often stand head to end with each other and shot flies for each other with their tails. They are the most beautiful of creatures in their carefree manner of abandon. The colors are both rich and creamy and the most beautiful cream horses, chestnut and darkest of chocolate brown.

We continued on our road across the steppe of grassy tracks and rocky outcrops. We have now pretty much left the Gobi and entered the Steppe country. The grass is greener, thicker and the scent more heady with the early summer flowers. We saw several groups of one to three cranes, some flying, some just hanging around a water patch. Wedge tail eagles were hovering over a haul with the. Implant of black crows and a myriad of others. Hard to photograph. The sky was a deep indigo with rain shadows creating random fingers of brushstrokes behind us, it was raining, hard, somewhere, the storms have been on our tail for days and reports of damage, let us pray we beat it to the city,

And the highlight of the day, well, equal with the horses was down in a w unite valley the discovery of a white camel; and baby, the camel appeared to have been separated from her herd as she was quite unkempt. Her hair long and left over from winter. She looked well enough with her most gorgeous little white baby camel, perhaps three months old. The innocence and shyness of the baby as it stayed behind mother. We stopped for a cuppa here and to watch them watch us. We kept a reasonable distance and the mother was aware and watching us but showed no sign of leaving her place. She let us come close enough to photograph well and we too respected her space and didn’t her to feel threatened or try to attack us as they can.

We left as the heavy clouds groaned and rumbled warnings and sent little sparks of electricity to get us in our way,

Not far from our camel Unench stopped the car. He had heard a strange noise. We were now on top of a rock hill with a herd of goats and a distant ger with smoke rising from the chimney.

Yes, it was a flat tyre. The last day of our trip and the first flat tyre. Luckily he had an air compressor at hand and the tyres had been filled with some goo a year or too ago that helps heal small holes. Fixed and on again. A further check didn’t seem to be of concern a few kilometers later.

Hours later and much track hopping, grass growing taller and more paddocks more fertile, animal herds more abundant and somehow we reached the main road. This was still gravel. And worse be ause of the heavy vehicles and trucks breaking it up. Then a small section of a few kilometers of brand new bitumen which we were not supposed to drive on. We, like the other traffic did until it too ran out. [of money?]

Back on the gravel and periods of sandy holes and stones and then the tyre. It was completely flat this time. The sky was threatening and lightening flying all around, the blue bruised clouds visibly thickening all around. No choice, Mervyn and Unench had to change the tyre. It was like a miracle as we watch the rain fall on the hills all around and somehow miss us.

Before we knew we were back st the outskirts of Ulaanbaatar and the smell of fumes and noise of traffic and faces of hopeful politicians everywhere. What has changed, not much except from every available billboard and orifice was a poster of a politician. It took exactly one hour in traffic to get home.

Back in our apartment by 7.00pm and life goes on.

Tomorrow we begin to organize the second exhibition for the Desert Sharing Project.

the traffic to get home.

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Camp 3 – Gobi Desert Suvarga (White Stupa)

Interesting sleeping arrangements last night in the Mangagovi hotel in the middle of the Middle Gobi. As there was only one small bedroom left with two bunks to share between four people we had to be creative. Unench pushed the two bunks together so there was just enough room between them to squeeze a body and just enough room for HM to sleep on the floor between the bed and wall. Mervyn and I sleep crushed against the wall on one bunk and Tugsoo had one whole single bed to herself. There was much noise in the street below our window; it was Saturday night and we were in a hotel, of sorts. At least we could check the car for retribution as it was parked beneath our window.

Breakfast arrived, a fried egg, cold rice and gherkins. I had sudden memories of 1979 when I visited Moscow on a contiki bus tour. at least I still had my coffee pot and fresh coffee to brew in our room on the portable gas stove. We are pleased we bought the second stove on route.

After yesterday’s fiasco with the rear bumper bar there was a first revisit to the police station where a meeting had been arranged for the culprit, the poor vodka affected driver, Tugsoo and Unench to meet the police for a handover of money for the car damage. Apparently the culprit only lost his license for a few months and not two years as first mooted and he did spend the night in the lockup.

A visit to the market to buy a bucket with lid, a basin for ger washing and some more food. We have enough food now to open a roadside stall.

Then it was time to get out of town as quickly as possible. Started to follow the road south and soon realized this may not be correct. A road to our right began to look more promising. We tirned around and headed back to town, after first trying to drive across the desert plain until a small creek stopped us. Start again and this time road pointed south west towards wherever Tugsoo was taking us on the map next.

Mongolian roads are usually just gravel tracks that criss cross the countryside in the general direction of the next place. Often we would come to a clear fork in the road and decisions wild have to be decided depending on the point of the compass in the dashboard. There was a lot of traffic on the road today; large trucks, Russian army jeeps, four wheel drive vehicles and us. As the land became more hilly and the dunes grew in number we needed to guess which track approaching vehicles were using. Sometimes there maybe a dozen or so well used tracks and the keep left or right rule did not apply on the desert roads.

Dust began to build up, at first just made by vehicles and then odd spires of whirling dust grew into another constant dust storm whipped up by the increasing strength of the wind.

The earth became drier and stonier as we headed south and vegetation sparse. Strangely we still seemed to be following power lines. This time brand new silver towers of steel marching along in an uncanny straight line up and over the dunes. The roads snakes both sides of the lines and occasional distractions where the line may disappear. The silver towers were so new they were without wire. We met the linesmen much further south coming up perhaps from china connecting the wire.

We drove for many hours before stopping for lunch at a disused camp we saw off the road and away from the dust stream of passing vehicles. From the mirage came two black goats. They were some way off and I wanted to photograph them and hoped they would not run away. I took some bread with me and walked towards them. The largest goat looked at me and was unafraid. I keep walking towards them and soon she came towards me and I held out the bread. She ate hungrily from my hand. She was Al’s limping and seemed very hungry. The young goat as dark as the mother shed away and would not let me approach. The female then followed me a little more but not approach the vehicle. I came back to our lunch camp and announced I would give my lunch to the goat instead of eating. I took some more food back to her and she ate as hungrily. Mervyn then came down with some popcorn which she ate from the bag. And then she was happy to follow us back to the car and wanted to get into all the boxes of food. I gave her some water and felt sad we had to leave her to continue fending off this harsh desert land. She had obviously strayed from a herd for there was no sign of other goats in our sight.

We drove on into what was becoming a dustier landscape and the track grew to a kilometer wide with unsignposted options All the way. We passed two roadside ger camps that Tugsoo and Unench said were restaurants, at least places we cough have horshoew made. They were terribly black and desert affected looking institutions.

After one hundred kilometers Unench became worried because he had thought we needed to turn left somewhere about now. We stopped an oncoming vehicle and asked directions. The driver said he did not know, he was a bus with several passengers. He said he only stuck to the main road and we should not take any left turns in the middle of the desert as it was too dry and harsh and remote and we would get lost. So we kept on and stopped again at a well. We had been watching another Russian vehicle heading parallel to us some distance away turn left at the well. It was time again to have some discussion and Mervyn and I thought we should be heading to the left as we had seen two more distant vehicles driving fast, must have been a good road.

Unench decided to drive strait ahead and we found some linesmen who indicated keep straight for twenty kilometers, looking out for three gers and a well and take the difficult to see track left a d ahead will be the place we are looking for. So we did and he was right, we saw in the distance a ger camp of three and a little away a well. The track was about three vehicle tyre markes in the dust. At least we could now see the rocky outcrop we were looking for and kept heading for them across the stony plain.

Then a small marked wooden sign said ger camp with a arrow. We were traveling through undulating gentle rock outcrops now, rising in soft rounded mounds from a flay ancient lake bed. At least that is what it looks like. The idea of ancient dinosaurs buried in the crust of the hills and deep beneath the lake surface comes to mind. Then Tugsoo said she had been here many years before when archeologists had been first exploring these parts and there were many many boxes of bones found.

The dust storm had blurred the countryside and the sand was a deeper orange than the earlier grey of the desert. The landscape seemed more familiar to the Australian deserts I have been. I imagined the very flatness and amount of dust in the sky could produce a lovely sunset.

Finally we reach a very remote and basic looking ger camp. A number of gers sat in a tight group together in the dust. An ablution block looked out of place with the gently flapping canvas covered gers. Brightly decorated orange doors were welcoming as traditional gers are and we hoped we could stay. This is not luxury but the way these gers sat on the flat plain remote and inviting was strange. Tugsoo went to ask about gers for the night and it seemed these were not the ones she had in mind, they were further up the track a few kilometers. These were cheap, only 12,000tg each, had water, shower and available.

We had a look and decided these would do, the showers were clean and we were here and the only visitors. When the wind dropped, in the evening or tomorrow the owners would take us out to the interesting spots in the hills.

Tonight we have separate gers for Mervyn and myself and Tugsoo and Unench.

I am now laying out of the wnd writing. I have had a shower, wet my har and feel great. The wind is howling outside. We have closed the flat on the roof as the plastic cover is non existent, and it is dark, cooling. I would love to share the rhythmic sound of the wind as it whips around the ger. the felt softens the howl which can be heard in the distance. I don’t think the wind will drop tonight. But then again it might just stop. Last time the wind stopped the rain came. There will not be any sight seeing today. We are here at camp now and battened down. And it’s lovely, a soft bed, stove, (our gas one) and I am making banana pancakes. The batter is resting as I write.

…later

After a feast of banana pancakes with cherry jam we ventured outside as the wind had dropped considerably as the day began to close down. This time of year the wind picks up after lunch and dies down in the evening and morning.

We noticed the owners began to move around now as they were able to work out of the debilitating dust and wind. The afternoon glow of the sun was stunning- a 360 degree view mirrored the gers. A round ger on a round landscape. The shadows were long and the wind had made little furrows against the low tough vegetation that reminded me of the plains in the Flinders Ranges and around Lake Eyre.

I took many photographs of the gentle landscape bathed in the golden evening light. As I looked around to the east the land seemed to have a both a purple and gold glow together. The wind was a gentle chill on my skin. This afternoon heat was the first time I wore a summer shirt, the temperature had risen well over 34 degrees Celsius, according to the car temp gauge.

Out here in the middle of the Gobi desert at this quite camp we were able to recharge our batteries between 8 and 11pm while the generator was running.

We have made plans tonight to visit a special place with the owner of the camp tomorrow. About 32 kilometers away in the rocks are many cave paintings some 4,000 years old.