roads? where we're going we don't need.. roads

when you do stuff, traveling is usually the process that gets you from one place where you do some stuff to another place where you do some other stuff. on this trip the traveling bit has not only become an integral part of the 'holiday' practically, but i've also found the process of moving to be really enjoyable. the long train journey has been a real highlight, but today has been my favourite day so far.

ganna is our driver, a stocky mongol with a shy temperament. he looks like he could take a full beating from lennox lewis and still go off and do a full days labour on a farm afterwards. he's spent the whole day wrestling with the steering wheel of the van. we did get the 4x4 van thing i was hoping for; our one a particular wreck, well off an MOT pass, but it's chewed up everything we've thrown at it.


this morning we spent on tarmac. that stuff i wrote a couple of days ago about the mental driving in mongolia has faded into insignificance, that was comparatively urban driving. today we experience country driving. a whole different ball game.

as i said, this morning was on tarmac (sort of). we shared the road with a peking to paris rally celebrating it's 100th year. hundreds of vintage cars sped past us on the pothole-rich highway. many sat by the side of the road and when we stopped i discovered that they were all having real problems with the quality of fuel in this country. ".. got fucking leaves in it," one guy named hugo told me. and the terrain, well these cars weren't really designed for roads like this. they were all battling through in their own way, some were really struggling though.


whene'er any stopped they were immediately surrounded by fascinated mongolians who appeared out of nowhere. a particular draw was a really old partly wooden car, i don't know the make but it had a 9.2 litre engine and valves on the dashboard. i have no idea how it was managing to get anywhere at all.


and that was the tarmac bit. i'm also not quite sure how some of them were managing to negotiate the road works. the mongolian freeway across country is just one lane each way. we encountered two lots of roadworks this morning. the way you are detoured round the works is a signpost pointing you off the tarmac... and that's it. you find your own way. so while sporadic diggers and tarmac-laying machines dotted the horizon, our little van powered over mud and dirt and dust for about 60 miles. i loved it, off-road driving is great and this meant we got to do a bit of it.

but it was nothing compared to the afternoon. after a storm - reminiscent of something out of the wizard of oz - threatened to destroy the roadside cafe we stopped at, the tarmac completely disappeared. it seems in the mongolian countryside there is an idea of a road, but it's yet to become a tangible thing. most of the time ganna propelled the van along faded tyre-tracks but sometimes he would veer off and just point the front of the van in a direction. and the van would just eat it up, with no complaint.

the terrain, while stunning, was hard work. rough grassland and endless ridges. sometimes the tracks would all away from underneath us, followed quickly by the van. sometimes a ridge would rise up in front of us, the van's wheels would climb up dropping the horizon for a moment before crashing it back into view with the sound of every loose item inside. this photo was taken pointing directly out of the front window.


ganna would then scan the horizon for some sort of landmark that only he could see and again gun the accelerator attacking whatever came next.

if there was a bridge over a river, we'd cross it gingerly, the planks of wood audibly straining or pivoting under the weight. if there wasn't a bridge we'd just drive across the river. this might be a better choice actually, on one bridge we were made to get out and walk because ganna thought it wasn't strong enough to take the weight of a van with passengers inside.

the scene is grass scrubland. we sleep tonight in a ger owned by country folk that the tour organiser back at the guesthouse described as 'barely human.' all around us sleep the wildlife we've passed today: herds of goats and sheep in uncountable numbers, wild horses with long flowing manes and tails to the ground, and eagles. frickin' eagles! cool.

this tour is steering clear of touristy places. thankfully. the ger we stay in tonight is literally in the middle of nowhere, a speedy day's drive to the nearest city. the family we stay with has a 'guest ger' with ornate carved and painted beds, a couple of abodes for themselves, about a thousand goats and sheep and two motorbikes. what else do they need?

the lady of the house bent double from work attempts to light a fire for us. it doesn't go very well. ganna looks at us and winks a knowing smile.