We left the family and headed back out of the valley the same way we had arrived 2 days previously. The route was winding, bumping between the aggressive rocky outcrops and with the Eurovision playlist in full unstoppable glow we realised what a luxury it had been to stay 2 nights with the last family. We passed a mare and very new born foal which Eegii diligently stopped to check, trying to get it to latch on, which was surprisingly well tolerated by the wild, isolated mare, and showed what natural horsemen the Mongols are, irrelevant of whether their ger's are now made of brick in the City suburbs.

We retraced our tracks to the city whose name translated as 'With Salt' and were welcomed into the home of another golden Gobi guide for lunch. We admired her newly planted blackberry bushes and settled down with her 80 year old grandmother whilst much merriment ensued from the kitchen.

We were soon back on tarmac roads, except where Eegii inexplicably chose to drive for miles at a time on the bumpy dirt parallel to the seemingly flawless tarmac... We arrived at Karakhoum and after a very brief visit to an ancient phallic rock, placed opposite vagina valley we entered the ancient ruined Buddhist monastery. The far-eastern style temples all contained different statues of deitys, each with different characteristics including one riding an ass draped in a very imaginatively modelled human skin. We walked back through the huge enclosure, walled by 108 towers and headed across to the Japanese funded museum which held an immense gold treasure hoard, excavated from a burial tomb found near the ruined ex-capital. There was a distinct lack of information on Genghis Khan's exploits which would have provided a welcome escape from the endless ruined pottery and relocated tombstones.

We stayed that night with a family who were still at their winter ger camp and as such had not erected their spare ger where guests would normally sleep. With the prospect of the night ahead involving 10 of us in the same ger we made the most of the outdoor air, taking in the wide vista of the valley below and trying to spot wild sheep as the sun dropped. We were presented with a very sorry looking septicaemic goat kid which needed putting out of its misery, and shortly after we'd delivered this scything opinion Bob noticed the suspect SCC on the cat's third eyelid.

With the animals condemned we were asked what treatment was required for the baby which had what appeared to be a candida infection at the back of its throat. As the mother was also suffering from a very sore back we suggested that a trip to town would be excellent value, as they could visit the doctor, vet and pharmacy all in one go, and maybe treat themselves to lunch to make a day of it.

We ate supper, played cards and Bob chatted at length to the father about training horses and he was engrossed by the photos and videos of equids in action on Bob's phone.

After a few hands of cards and avoiding eye contact with the older child who appeared to be possessed by the devil we prepared our sleeping floor arrangements which were very cosy indeed.

Fuelled by a lollipop the gremlin child did laps of the ger before its demonic face appeared on the roof, grinning through the dark skylight like a mongolian gargoyle. Meanwhile the thrush ridden baby grizzled and Mum appeared to be at the end of her teather.

Eventually we dared to slip into our sleeping bags and having been covered with multiple layers of blankets by Mum we drifted to sleep to the sounds of Dad, Simeon and Victor snoring in almost unison.