Episode 17

Olgii didn't appear all that attractive. Again there were puddles everywhere the size of swimming pools. Fortunately most are so deep and bumpy that drivers don’t rush through them so avoiding getting drenched with muddy, oily water isn’t as difficult as it could be.

The population of the town is mostly Kazakh and Islamic so there are several small mosques, none very impressive. In the centre is a big open square littered with rubbish and puddles and the odd drunk laying where he fell. Facing the square is an impressive building in the neoclassical style, obviously for something important in Soviet times, but now there are some little shops and even a bank in what was once a theatre. However, mostly the place appears to be empty. The bank is where my humans had to go to change money and inside it was a long narrow room with a row of teller booths on one side, above them running the whole length was a mirror, and above that some sort of gallery with an old piano, opposite on a raised floor was a row of computer desks, and at the far end a stage where odd sorts of bits and pieces were stacked.

There was a market but the puddles put us off going in there, and several supermarkets that the LP guide book had said were reasonably well stocked with imported goods. Obviously that writer’s opinion and L’s differ considerably, though she will admit that she did find one that wasn’t too bad.

We went into a little cafe that advertised all sorts of things for lunch but what we found was that they only had one thing, a sort of fried pancake filled with mutton. It was quite tasty but you couldn’t eat too many of them. Three women behind the counter and my two humans and me for customers and the likelihood of more of the latter appearing seemed remote. It was lunch time though it may well be Ramadam for all we know.

D pulled into a small tyre repair shop and tried to explain that he had a tyre with a slow puncture, well that was a wasted effort. No way could my humans make the fellow understand that although it had a slow leak it wasn’t the valve, it was in the tyre. Giving up on that and having many days left on their visas my humans decided to head off into the mountains again.

This time we headed for a small waterfall mentioned in the guide book with G\PS co-ordinates. We got onto a track heading in roughly the right direction and drove up several long valleys one after the other, crossing a low saddle into the next one up. All of them were deserted though they had good grazing. Then we came to a very popular valley with a marshy bottom and there were many Gers but not nearly as many livestock as one would have expected. Keeping on we passed again over low saddles between valleys, all with many Gers until the high snow topped mountain with the waterfall below it was right in front of us, and a super swift flowing stream in the valley floor. The way got more and more steep until we found ourselves struggling up a mountain side on little more than a goat track with the river far below and being watched by the odd cow or two that was grazing beside the track. Think those cows must have feet like flies. Before reaching the top, if there ever was one, the car started to overheat so D called a halt. He had to reverse about 500m with L guiding him before reaching a spot where he could turn around. So we never did find the waterfall. After safely making it onto more level ground we camped the night.

Following morning with the cloud low we set off to cross the stream and head round the other side of the mountain and join the main road some way further south. Shortly after we set off we again climbed higher and found ourselves firstly driving through sleet, then shortly after, snow. It kept up for a few hours too and settled on the higher slopes as we could see later in the day.

Soon after joining the main road we came across a couple of Mongolian rally cars travelling together one of which had broken down. One was British, the other Norwegian and they had come a more scenic route than most albeit in a short time span, through Turkey, Iran and all the Central Asian states, though it was by no means certain that at least one of the cars was going to make it the rest of the way to UB.

We again left the main road and took some tracks heading into the mountains in the west of the country. Passed a few small lakes and must have gradually climbed higher and higher because we came to the top of a pass with a large Ovoo, (shrine) and after looking at what was down that pass we all prayed to the spirit of the Ovoo for safe passage. With the car in low ratio we started off down, it looked a dam long way and we could see a village at the bottom, perhaps a 1000m below, (turned out to be 700+m). The track started bad and deteriorated from that, where the water had gouged out deep ruts. Once on our way though, there was no turning back and best to hope there wasn’t anyone stupid enough to be trying to come up just now.

Eventually we made it to the bottom, someone’s prayers answered: Then we came to the bridge we’d seen from high above, only thing was, it was broken. One of the pylons in midstream had sunk. Fortunately the much older wooden bridge was in slightly better roadworthiness and we crossed it running the risk of getting a nail or broken plank through our tyres. Following the mob of goats we made it into the village of Buyant:

This is a grubby little village if ever there was one. Either big puddles or dusty roads, the main area, business centre except we didn’t seen any businesses, had a square, all dust, and a small shelter where several men in various postures were consuming vast amounts of vodka judging by the empty bottle around them. Amazingly, the roads around the square had solar powered street lighting. The town also boasted a small Buddhist temple and a very poor excuse for a mosque.

Following Gertie’s (sat-nav) route back to Olgii we drove along a track alongside the river. This was a narrow valley with high mountains on both sides and lush green grass on the flat land beside the stream. It was a weekend and many people were out here in cars and trucks with small tents set up for camping and they were all busy cutting the grass with long handled scythes for hay. What they would cut here though would only feed a small number of animals over the long winter months, where the big herds and flocks spend the winter is still a mystery. Our track came to an abrupt end where the river entered a steep sided gorge. So much for Gertie’s route:

Not wanting to return up that pass we took a track west out of Buyant, and by a very roundabout route over a couple of days we eventually returned to Olgii. This time the puddles were considerably less and the sun much hotter. The trees here, not many, along with the others we had seen over the last few days are all beginning to show their autumn colours. The nights can be quite chilly too.

My humans did some grocery shopping and came back with supplies to last many days. They had found a better stocked supermarket apparently. We then set off out of town again towards the mountains in the western part of the country, we could see the snow topped higher ones as we went. At the checkpoint just out of town my humans were asked for some paper, probably a permit to enter the border regions, however they didn’t have one and pleaded total ignorance of all things. The fellow after a few minutes then asked for 10,000tugret, about €5, so D said he would go back into town and get this permit, but then the fellow just gave up and waved us on, so off we went.

We spent an interesting few days as we went through some very tiny villages, and camped by some rushing mountain streams. In one village where we stopped to ask directions, it turned out we were not where we thought we were. The girls that told us the name of the village spoke a little English and sounded as if they’d had a reasonable education despite being in such a remote place. Of course they do have their mobile phones and satellite TV even when their living arrangements are at best basic. Many of these clusters of Gers don’t even have pit toilets, just the open air.

On a night when we camped not far from some Gers we had a small group of children come along and stand and stare at us for sometime. They didn’t try and touch anything, just wanted to see the foreigners I think. It’s an Asian thing. Asians will cluster round and stare at foreigners, yet in Africa, we found many years ago, though it may have changed now, that the people would greet you then go on their way.

The thing that got L about the whole country was that even when we were far from any habitation or animals there didn’t seem to by anything that smelt like 'fresh’ air. Always there was the odour of sheep and goats, perhaps it’s because these animals have been grazing across these mountains and steppes for thousands of years. A thing that made my humans laugh was a sign that said "trees are our future", in this place there possible wasn’t a single tree for a hundred kilometres in any direction.

This part of western Mongolia is famed for it's eagle hunting festival held in October. As a by product of this festival where they capture wild eagle and train them to hunt on demand, we came across some eagle sitting atop posts. They are actually chained to the posts and the poor things were just hunched up there as they couldn't do anything else. This sight quite distressed L who loves to see creatures free. They owners sit them on posts by the road side in the hope of some passing motorists, not really many tourists in these parts, wanting a demonstration of this eagle hunting. In competition we think live foxes are used but out here they probably use the little ground animal, a bit like a meer cat or squirrel of which there are countless. In fact we found much larger, bit fat marmots, in some areas. Some of these big ones were just so fat they could barely waddle across the track.

My humans had really enjoyed their stay in Mongolia even with all the car problems and the car was still creating new ones as we went. By this time it had started stalling for no apparent reason. It has done this on very rare occasions ever since they have owned it, only now the problems became very frequent with the car not starting until the motor had cooled, perhaps as much as 2 hours later.

© Lynette Regan 30th August 2013