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My sleep was troubled and filled with visions of horses, yaks, camels, sheep and goats, all laughing loudly and displaying a rather strong stench. I awoke from those visions of horrors with a jolt and a sense of relief at it having only been a dream, only to be faced with Stinky smiling at me wildly with all of his 6 teeth and gesturing to the outside world. It was 9 am on my 20th day of travel. I pushed Stinky away from me, made a slalom through the empty bottles of vodka, made a mental note never to drink vodka again, banged my head on the ridiculously low doors and stepped, mumbling and grumbling outside. This time round, the experience was more pleasant. The Ger where we stopped was on top of a hill overlooking the vast lake we had been following. The view was magnificent, the air fresh and free of bugs and the sky clear all round, with not a cloud to be seen on the horizon. What a splendid morning indeed. After much stretching, yawning, scratching and cracking of bones (to the greatest amusement of Stinky’s children, hiding behind the Ger and giggling away at the fat
foreigner), the others emerged painfully from their sleep (actually Snaily was ready long before us and had already made an unsuccessful attempt at making normal Earl Grey tea: it still tasted of mutton, due to there only being one cooking pot). Bene and I went for a quick wash and shave in the lake, to the greatest excitement of the assembled crowds (a gathering of more then 3 people constitutes a crowd in Mongolia) of 5 people (Stinky, 2nd wife and 3 kids). They admired and commented on the soap, I expect the first they had ever seen, made gestures as if they were going to use it, but the hope was quickly lost as they returned the soap to us in a ceremonial manner, presenting it in the palm of the right hand with the left hand supporting the elbow of the right.

More emptiness....

Degrubenc
2005-12-09 13:43:21

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of sacrificing a bit of port and vodka to the gods, the Ger and the family (finger placed in glass
full of vodka or port and then flicked towards the sky, the door and the stove. Sleepy insisted in the fashion of offering three glasses to each of his guests, presented in the ceremonial manner. We could not refuse, so, drunk the vodka but got our revenge by offering him ceremoniously Port, which he could not drink. Sleepy was very keen on my Mongolian Phrasebook. He had already mastered a few English sentences and words by reading it. He declared to us (once his vodka was finished) “I am happy”, the longest sentence he said in English and all to say that he was happy. We loved Sleepy for it, a good round of applause was followed by the ceremonious opening of a new bottle and the traditional offering.

This pleasant state of affairs was only disturbed by myself trying to add my own droppings to the countryside but finding no adequate space. I turned my back to my companions and went about my business. I had the toilet with the best view of the world: a sun setting over the steppes, but my companion had a less pleasant view of my toilet.

As we started to fall into a pleasant state
of sleepiness, a horse rider approached us to inform us that London was exploding. He heard it on the radio in his Ger and was aware that I lived in London. He came to warn us. Bene has his girlfriend in London. We quickly jumped on a couple of nearby horses, owned by the family hosting us, and rode into town.

The Post Offices and the Banks in Mongolia are open 24 hours a day. As I approached the town, my mobile phone received a signal and I got a message from my mother informing me that there were, indeed, explosions in London but that all was well with them. We made our calls and everyone responded affirmative to the calls.

We rode back. The car seemed to be fixed. We went to sleep.