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Our trip has been over for awhile now, but I want to make a few more posts before my memories get too hazy– and add some pictures.
Shanghai was a place I had always wanted to see. I had vague visions of a pre-war Western enclave, based partly on the reminiscences of an American woman I met years ago on Taiwan who had grown up there before the War. She described visits from royalty, lavish parties and glittering mansions. I must admit I was rather apalled at the time– when I remarked that she must be fluent in Chinese she snapped back, “No, of course not! That wasn’t at ALL necessary.” I thought about the possibilities that someone with a sympathetic eye and a knowledge of another culture can create and thought it sad that clearly had neither. Instead, all she had left from her childhood was the memory of evening gowns and afternoon calls.
In any case, the Shanghai I found had nothing in common with those long ago times. One small area of ‘old town’ remains.
 
Otherwise it is all modern skyscrapers.
From my time in Hong Kong I know that this is generally a source of great pride to Asians, but I must confess it leaves me cold.
Hong Kong itself was a disappointment of another kind: I remembered it well and fondly from my years in Asia, but that Hong Kong, like my acquaintance from Taiwan’s Shanghai, seems to have disappeared. The Star Ferry still runs, but the beautiful bay is constantly clouded with smog. The lively expat community is much diminished and what is left of the old parts of town, the back streets and crowded markets look smaller and sadder. All the action and bustle seems to have moved to Beijing.
Occasional renovated junks seem to be about all that’s left of the old Hong Kong.
After Shanghai and Hong Kong we were much looking forward to Yunnan Province. Several of our informants had told us this was the most interesting part of China, filled with rice terraces, Hill Tribes and natural beauty.
There were no direct trains from Hong Kong, so we caught one to Guang Zhou and then barely managed to catch the night train on to Kunming, the capital city.
The third class trains in China have 3 bunks on each side. Judging by ours, they are also filthy. We killed a number of cockroaches between us and, possibly a result of eating the tepid train food I bought from a vendor, I was sick to my stomach the next morning. I had gotten on the train with a cold and by the time we arrived in Kunming I was ready to take to bed. Unfortunately, a freak snowstorm had hit the city and in place of a warm room I had to settle for a large pile of blankets.
Kunming itself is not a particularly attractive city, and since below freezing days a rare, central heating is practically unknown. The places we had hoped to visit all promised to be yet colder.
 Park in Kunming So after a quick look around we decided to beat a hasty retreat to warmer climes.
 Lin on the Star Ferry Thursday, December 9
We are in Saigon now, with only one week before Sarah takes off for Prague and I remain in Southeast Asia a while longer. When we think of the many thousands of miles, the countries, and the climates we’ve covered since St. Petersburg in September, it’s no wonder we’re getting ready to stay put, somewhere, for a while.
Hong Kong
Tuesday, 24 November
Sarah and I had both been to Hong Kong before and were eager to see how it had changed after being returned to China. We arrived early in the morning on November 18 and got ourselves situated in Tom’s Guesthouse in the old Chung King Mansions on the Kowloon side, a huge old building containing dozens of guesthouses, shops, and offices. Unfortunately, it had lost some of its pizzaz from the past and seemed a bit shabbier.
As we walked around the streets we noticed fewer foreigners than before; we later learned that foreigners made up about 13% of the population under British rule, but now only 5%. The other thing that immediately struck us was the smog that now pervades Victoria Harbor. In the 1970s and 80s the air was clear and the glorious skyline of Hong Kong Island breathtaking; now, pollution from all the factories in Guangzhou cast a haze over the view, but Hong Kong is still one of the most magnificent natural harbors in the world.
 Shop in Hong Kong: Who says we didn't see the Terra Cotta Warriors? We took a boat tour of the harbor and then the Star Ferry across to the island, and marveled at the magnitude of new highrises and sleek wharves and malls. Gone were the old stair-step streets flanked with food vendors and small shops – they’ve been replaced by mall after shiny mall, and the old floating restaruants are also gone. We did find some of the old character in the markets and a few pockets of side streets, but everything seemed more uniform, the goods more mass-produced. We both preferred the Hong Kong of the past.
We spent a wonderful evening with an old colleague of Sarah from the Prague Post, Kevin Drew, who now works at CNN’s Asia Pacific bureau based in Hong Kong. We first had beers at a Belgian bar, then dinner at a wonderful Indian restaurant.
The train to Kunming
We originally had planned on taking the train to Nanning and then into Vietnam, but we heard so many good things about Yunnan province, in China’s southwest, that we decided to spend some time there instead. So we bought tickets for what was to be our last train journey of this trip, a 2-hour train to Guangzhou, then a connecting 26-hour overnight train to Kunming, the capital of Yunnan province. The lady at the China Railways office assured us that the train leaving Hong Kong at 10:30 am would leave plenty of time to get across Guangzhou to a different station and make our connection.
Well, the first train was (uncharacteristically for China) late, and by the time we got through immigration in Guangzhou we were afraid we’d miss our connection! We ran to the first taxi we could find and were willing to pay a premium in this emergency – luckily, we got one of the best drivers imaginable who whisked us helter-skelter through the huge city and then, when the approach to the train station was in gridlock traffic, pointed at the entrance and told us to RUN!!! We did, pushing our way through the swarms of people, and found our train with just minutes to spare.
The third-class equivalent on Chinese long-haul trains is not as open as the Russian cars we so enjoyed, and instead of four berths on one side and two on the other, here there were two stacks of three berths each in cabins, and just an aisle on the other side. Our compartment-mates were nice, but there very little sitting room during the days and with three berths no ability to sit up in the beds except for the bottom ones (we were on the top).
 On the Train to Kunming After riding through the coastal region of Guangzhou, the world’s factory, the landscape was a beautiful successsion of mountains, gorges, rivers, rice paddies. But it also contained one thing we weren’t expecting – snow! It turned out that parts of China, including Yunnan province, were having a freak cold snap, and when we arrived in Kunming we were dismayed that our guesthouse did not have heat! It so rarely gets cold here that most places don’t – I went in search of another hotel but no heat was to be found, so we wrapped ourselves up and made a decision not to spend time in Yunnan after all.
The flights to Hanoi for the next few days were full, so we took the closest other warm country and soon were meandering down the pleasant lanes of Vientiane, Laos, in summer weather at last. The choruses of”Lady lady looka looka” that accompanied us throughout China now became the “Madame, madame, you buy?” of the former French-occupied lands.
 Buddhist Temple in Vientiane Laos was a gentle, graceful haven between behemoth China and crowded, intense Vietnam. With only 6.5 million people and 75% of its territory unmanaged vegetation, the landscape is gorgeous with wild mountains, karsts, jungle, waterfalls, rivers. After a few days in delightful Vientiane we took the bus north to Luang Prabang, a UNESCO site that’s proclaimed to be one of the most beautiful cities in Southeast Asia, where the Mekong and Khan rivers converge.
Monday, 14 December
From there we flew to Hanoi and were at first overwhelmed by the crowding and nonstop waves of motorbikes filling the streets to within an inch of each other and us, but by the second day I began to enjoy the mad energy of the place.
 Rules for American Prisoners at the Hanoi Hilton Although I was never inside Vietnam before, I had strange emotions about visiting the places where so many of my generation had fought – and it was deeply moving to visit Hoa Lo Prison, the infamous “Hanoi Hilton.” But I encountered absolutely no animosity toward Americans anywhere in Vietnam, only friendly people who seemed to sincerely welcome us.
 Bride and Groom being photographed at Hoan Kiem Lake in Hanoi  Ha Long Bay From Hanoi we took a side trip to Ha Long Bay, where thousands of islands jut steeply out of the Gulf of Tonkin like giant fingers, and then proceeded down the coast on an open-ticket bus to Saigon that let us stop off along the way. We explored the former imperial city of Hue, the old trading port of Hoi An, and enjoyed the beach at Nha Trang before heading inland to Saigon. Only called Ho Chi Minh City officially, Saigon is far more cosmopolitan than Hanoi and (despite Vietnam’s communist mantle) a lot of fun.
 Imperial City at Hue  Santa's everywhere- including in the trees in Saigon! The Finale
Now Sarah and I are in Cambodia, where we will spend our last day together tomorrow! We took a boat up the Mekong and today we visited the temples of Angkor, and tomorrow we return to Phnom Pehn for Sarah to catch her flight first to Bangkok, then home to Prague. I, on the other hand, am not through with Indochina and will return to Vietnam and stay put for a while on the coast, with Nha Trang as a base to explore other beaches and the central highlands.
 Temple at Angkor  Lin at Royal Palace in Phnom Penh On this day, in northern Cambodia, in the heat of the jungle, it is hard to conjure up in memory the wintry cold that greeted Sarah and me when we met in St. Petersburg to begin our travels. Now, many thousands of miles and many cultures later, it is as always for me: encountering unfamiliar lands and peoples fosters inner growth in even greater measure. I will always be grateful for our adventures and learnings, for all the new friends we made, and especially to Sarah for proposing this trip in the first place and for her extraordinary breadth of knowledge and insights that made it so much richer.
 Last Dinner of our Journey Together, in Phnom Penh
 Lin and Sarah in the Old Town of Shanghai Wednesday, November 17
It seems the only time I have to write lately is on a train. We’re now heading from Shanghai to Hong Kong and it is the first time we are traveling overnight without a bed. There were none left on the once-a-day train so we’re in “hard seats” in which we will have to doze the best we can until we arrive at 6 tomorrow morning. The seats are arranged around tables, three on each side facing each other. Sarah is next to the window, I am in the middle, and next to me is a young man who is watching a movie on his computer; occasionally I glance at the screen and in one scene someone is handed a platter containing a human head. Across from us are three men and it’s hard to avoid staring straight at each other. Luckily, the one across from me is easy on the eyes. The one across from Sarah talks a lot in a manner that to us seems disgruntled. There don’t appear to be any other foreigners on the train.
 Skyscrapers in Shanghai It was cloudy and rainy during our three days in Shanghai, but it didn’t stop us from wandering all over this city of futuristic skyscrapers and staggering development. The Bund and lots of areas are under reconstruction for next year’s world expo, which we heard the Chinese are spending more money on than the Olympics! Everywhere you look there are skyscrapers topped with all sorts of balls, curves, and flying saucer-like shapes; the city is is flashy, gleaming, and on the go.
Shanghai is China’s richest city and the fulfillment of the government’s embrace of “market socialism.” The main shopping streets, Nanjing and Huaihai Roads, are full of gleaming malls featuring all the world’s luxury brands, while Mercedes and other top-end cars dot the traffic.
 From the River Cruise We took a river cruise toward the mouth of the Yangtze to get a sense of the magnitude of China’s largest port and to watch the goods “made in China” heading your way.
On Saturday, at Peoples Park, we were puzzled by hundreds of people milling about holding signs, most containing phone numbers. We thought it was some kind of flea market where you had to contact the person to see the goods if you were interested. But we learned that this was the weekly “matchmaking” spot, and the reason so many of the people were older is because they are the parents, aunts, and other elders trying to find mates for the young marriagables in their families. We spent the following day with Sundou, a friend of Lin’s friend Karen from Chicago who had taught English in Shanghai for a year. Sundou, who was Karen’s Chinese teacher, said many young people work long hours now, are living away from their families, and have little opportunity to meet potential partners; many are too traditional to use newspaper ads or the Internet. With Sundou we explored the old section of Shanghai and enjoyed some famous local food.
 Lin and Sundou We spent that evening with Iain and Claire, other friends of Karen, from South Africa, who are also teaching English and writing in Shanghai. We met them at a delightful, small Japanese bar run by Tibetans.
 At the Japanese Bar The food in China is fantastic! Our hostel was located in the heart of the city, surrounded by restaurants, and each night we picked one and enjoyed some of the tastiest food at unbelievably low prices; in addtion to the ubiquitous dumplings we had various kinds of seafood, vegetables, and one extremely fun evening cooking our food in a “hot pot” at the table. After selecting our ingredients, we dropped them into the boiling water and tried to guess when they were ready, with the help of nearby customers and staff.
It’s 7 pm now and the train has become quite festive. They apparently sell more tickets than there are seats, so lots of people are standing in the aisle or between cars. A few minutes ago we stopped at a station and a few of the windows were opened so vendors could sell chicken legs oozing with reddish sauce – the sellers gathered around the windows shouting, and soon it caught on and almost everyone in the cars was jostling to hand over their 5 yuan and then it was comical as everyone slurped on the chicken.
Meanwhile, a few passengers came up and down the aisle furtively selling various things they had brought with them – hiding their wares when necessary to avoid detection by the train staff. One man was selling water cheaper than the price on the train, others food or trinkets.
Strangely, we just heard the American anthem being played on the train’s sound system, and part of Barack Obama’s Shanghai speech is being replayed.
Earlier, I had noticed a man with a limp making his way through the car, and now he is singing in our car with an ethereally beautiful voice then asking for money. We gave him a donation and took his picture. Apparently 10 yuan (about $1.50) is more than he was asking for and he tried to give us change back but we indicated it was all for him and he sang some more.
 Singer on the Train
The Forbidden City, the former Imperial compound, covers a vast area in the center of Beijing. Just outside it is a large garden with a tower commanding beautiful views. After walking through and looking at a couple of the exhibits Kate and Lin headed there while I stayed to linger over more exhibits and artifacts of daily life, as well as examine the sumptuous detail of the buildings and sculptures.
I wandered around for most of the day, taking it all in and imagining what life might have been like for its original residents.
 Turtle in front of one of the buildings of the Forbidden City  Detail of door, Forbidden City  Detail from building, Forbidden City This is made easier by the well thought-out exhibits: especially in the case of every-day objects they showed not only the objects themselves, but had a good explanation of their importance, as well as illustrations of concubines showing them with the objects displayed.
 Bed with bed curtains in the Forbidden City Just as I thought I had found all of the exhibits and was about to make my way to the exit, I stumbled across another whole section, with its own (small) entrance fee. This was the ‘Treasure Room’ and it included most of the ‘crown jewels’ and the gemstone ‘mountains’.
 Imperial Crown
 Imperial crown  Jade Terrace In the same compound were various shops, including a calligraphy shop where the nephew of the last emperor came to exercise his skill most days. I ended up buying several scroll paintings– one purportedly in support of art students and the other in a shop which claimed to be raising funds for renovating the small garden within the compound.
As interesting as the exhibits and architecture were I found just as fascinating the current life within the Forbidden City: It had snowed in the night before our visit and what seemed like an army of maintenance people were out in force with shovels, piling the snow into small, bicycle powered ‘dump trucks’.
 Snow removal inside the Forbidden City
 First View of Great Wall from the Train I must have been watching the Great Wall slip past for some time before Anya pointed out what I was seeing. From the train you get little impression of its size, only its great length.
The rest of what rolling past was at least as interesting to me: a great kaleidoscope of terraced rice paddies, factories spewing smoke, men with work bicycles or poles hauling things here and there, and countryside ranging from desert to field to mountain to river.
We reached Beijing in the early afternoon and set off to find the guest house that had been recommended by someone we met at the Golden Gobi. The place, when we found it, turned out to be as pleasant as we had been told, and fortunately the girls working there were just as nice and helpful, too. It was a good thing, because even before we found the guesthouse I had mishap that cast a bit of a pall over my first days in Beijing: I went to get yuan out of an ATM- and it ate my card. I had to wait until US business hours to call my bank- which told me that there was nothing they could do except send a replacement card to my US address. “But I’m in BEIJING!” I said. Yes, they understood that, but there was nothing they could do… Security policies… Fortunately it turned out that the Chinese were not so hidebound. With a great deal of help from the girls at the guesthouse– and some time spent on hold on the emergency line at the ATM, a small contingent from the bank showed up Monday morning and, after checking my passport, simply GAVE me back my card!
 Waiting on Hold at the Bank The first few days were spent walking around the neighborhood, which included Tienanmen Square marveling at the pollution. We talked to several people, however, who assured us that this was not normal.
 Tiannanmen on a bad day...  ...and on a good one... High on the list, of course, were the Great Wall and the Forbidden City. We had had dinner with a friend of Lin’s at an excellent restaurant and our waiter had recommended a guide for the Great Wall tour. Since our hotel wasn’t sure there would be enough people for us to take their tour on the day we wanted to go we decided to give him a try. Then we went to buy our tickets to Shanghai. At the railway station we met the girls from our hotel, out to meet the train from Mongolia. We were headed back to the metro with our tickets when we saw them again– this time with our friend Kate in tow! As she had done in Mongolia, she not only decided to join our tour but rounded up a fourth person, Neil, to go with us.
After spending some time in Beijing, which underwent massive infrastructure improvements for the Olympics, it was interesting to get into the countryside to see how things look there. In fact, although obviously not so well-off as the capital, the evidence of the country’s growth are everywhere, and even in the poorest areas you find major building projects and signs of modernization. On the way to the Wall, for instance, I was struck by rows of brand new street lamps, all powered by solar panels.
 On the Great Wall The Wall itself is more impressive than I can find words to express. We reached the top by quick ski-lift ride. Standing on it and seeing the Escher-like cascades of stairs up and down the length of it and seeing it stretch up and along the mountain ridges was simply awe-inspiring.
 View from one of the guard towers, Great Wall The others set off at a rapid pace, while I followed more slowly, trying to imagine the building process- and the times and people that created it. The section of the wall we were walking was one of the restored sections– great lengths of the Wall are in disrepair and some have fallen into complete ruin. Even on the sections in good shape it is hard to imagine how soldiers– and horses– could ever have patrolled such a thing- even supposing the guard towers were once equipped to provide housing for men and mounts. Snaking as it does up the mountains and along the ridges there are few level stretches and many steep staircases.
 Stairs on the Great Wall Our tour ended with a toboggan ride down the mountain-side– less scary than it sounds, since our toboggans were well equipped with brakes and we could slide down so slowly as to require the signs we saw several times on the route: No parking.
 Lin with Smiling Proletariat at the Chinese National Museum Friday, November 13
We are now on a high-speed train to Shanghai, after spending one week at the 250-year-old Emperor Guesthouse in Beijing.
The guesthouse used to be linked to the Forbidden City through underground tunnels, part of which we could see from the basement. It was an excellent location just south of Tiananmen Square, and we spent our days exploring the Forbidden City, National Museum, Summer Palace, hutongs, and markets. We were lucky to meet up with my friend Hannah and Sarah’s friend Claudio, who live in Beijing and showed us places we wouldn’t have found otherwise.
 Palace Guards Practicing  Tiananmen Square Through the Smog  With Mao on a Clear Day  Winter at the Summer Palace  Lunch at Wangfujing Market I, of course, went to the Olympic village and marveled at the bird’s nest and water cube up close – the area is beautiful and I could still feel the thrill of last year’s games.
 Lin at the Bird's Nest Our friend Kate showed up once again at our guesthouse, and one day the three of us plus an Englishman, Neil, took a trip to the Great Wall. We had actually seen sections of it from our train to Beijing, and walking along its ramparts and guard towers was magnificent. We could see sections of it snaking along the mountaintops in the distance and marveled at the sheer scale of imagining such a project and the logistics of supplying its army of guards. At this time of year there are relatively few tourists and we enjoyed having large sections to ourselves. We accessed the wall at a village called Mutianyu, where we rode up the mountain on a ski lift and then back down via a very fun high-speed toboggan chute full of twists and turns. Our guidebooks say, however, that it’s only a myth that the Great Wall can be seen from outer space!
 Neil, Dressed as a Spaceman for the Occasion, and the Rest of us  Lin With her Back to the Wall  "Oh, chute!" Beijing is full of new and renovated buildings and infrastructure finished for the Olympics, and the subway is one of the cleanest and easiest to navigate I’ve ever seen, with signs and announcements in both Chinese and English.
 One of Beijing's Spotless New Subway Lines Though crowded, the crime rate in Beijing is very low and we were assured it is safe to walk anywhere day or night. There are large numbers of police and soldiers everywhere, and security checks at the entrances to public squares, museums, bus stations and the like. People are very friendly and often hailed us with clear delight that we were visiting their city.
It is very cheap here, even cheaper than Mongolia. We found a tiny family restaurant near the guesthouse, run by a family that included a delightful girl and boy. We ate there four of our seven nights in Beijing because it was so convenient after a tiring day of sightseeing, the food was delicious, and we ate to bursting for less than $3 US. Beautiful “pashmina” scarves are $2-3, the metro is less than 30 cents, and a bottle of water is about 15 cents.
 The Chinese... Always Looking Out for us... On the train from Ulan Bator, and for the first two days in Beijing, we were horrified at the pollution – we could not see more than a few blocks ahead, and even in the great halls of the museum the smog was evident. But the locals said those days were particularly bad because it was the beginning of the heating season – Beijing had its first snowfall last week which triggered all the furnaces. The air was indeed better for the rest of our stay, and everything looked beautiful in white. It was a fitting end of winter for us, as Shanghai will be in the 50s-60s F and Hong Kong even warmer. This morning I ditched my winter parka, the wool sweater I’ve worn nearly every day since this trip began, and a turtleneck. Hooray!
 On the Ride to the Frozen Waterfall After our camel ride it was back to bumping over rutted trails and dirt tracks. Along the way we saw on occasional very large brown and white bird sitting by the roadside. They were the same kind as one I had seen on the way to Lake Baikal and I assumed they were eagles, but Jack said that they were actually condors. We saw millions of the little mice they were probably feeding on, and several foxes which probably had the same food source.
 Ger Camp with Satellite Dish We reached our second lodging near a frozen waterfall towards the end of the day. The family here was a couple with three girls and a new baby boy. The oldest girl was just 11 and all of them down to the youngest very cheerfully helped with dishes, wood-hauling, and whatever other chores were at hand. I had bought a bottle of vodka at one of our stops so that evening I gave it to the man of the family and we all sat around drinking it and learning to play ankle bones. We also had a taste of the famous ‘airig’ (fermented mares’ milk)- the last of the season.
 On the ride to the waterfall. The next day we set off on horseback to see the frozen waterfall. I was unsure how much time we would really want to spend in the saddle- it was colder than it had been and had just snowed. At first our guide said we would be out all day, but then said we could ride to the waterfall, have lunch, and then decide if we wanted to do any more.
 Frozen Waterfall from Above We reached the waterfall in about an hour, tied the horses and then went down a steep path to the bottom of the small canyon it was in. From above it looked nice, but not particularly impressive. From the bottom of the canyon, though, it was stunning.
We walked around for awhile and then climbed back up to the top, mounted up and rode a little further to another ger, where we had an excellent lunch. While we were eating, Lin overheard them say they were preparing to slaughter a sheep. We agreed that we would like to see this and so we were taken outside, where a sheep lay quietly with its front legs bound. Telling his little son to hold the back legs firmly, our host made a shallow slit in the animal’s belly. Then he stuck his hand in and, we were told later, pinched its aorta. With the other hand he held the nostrils closed. In a short time, with no real struggle or much evidence of discomfort, it was dead.
After it was killed, it was moved inside to a patch of freshly washed floor for skinning.
After this warm break we all decided to ride on our horses back to the ger camp where we were staying. When we got back another van full of people had arrived– this turned out to be the group of friends from the Golden Gobi that we had met, briefly, at the first stop. Their guide and the family were busy preparing a traditional meal– the real Mongolian barbecue, made by heating rocks in the fire and then putting them into the stew pot. It was a delicious meal. Afterwards I started to tease one of the members of the other group about their not wanting to stay with us the first night. It turned out that it was another group who had turned down the suggestion, not them.
 Erdenee Tzu Monastery The final day of our tour we headed to Karakorum, the place where Genghis Khan had his first capital, and Erdenee Tzu, the most important monastery.
 Walls of Erdenee Tzu Monastery The monastery, it turned out, was closed that day, so we spent the night in the last of our ger camps and went to see it in the morning. After a brief tour of some of the main buildings, we were taken further into the complex, where monks were chanting their prayers.
 Stone Turtle Marking the Original Boundary of Karakorum The monastery was large in interesting, but there is little to be seen of the ancient city of Karakorum (as opposed to the town that has grown up on the spot) beyond a couple of stone turtles– two of the four that originally marked the boundaries of the town. One of them was located right next to a modern memorial to the empire Genghis Khan built: a handsome tile four-sided depiction of the extent of the Khan’s conquests.
Originally the plan was that we would go back to Ulaan Bataar after this, but we discovered that we had inadvertently made off with the backpack of one of the girls at the first family where we stayed. She had been home from school on vacation, but would soon be headed back, so we needed to deliver the backpack. We were happy to have a little chance to say goodbye to the delightful old pair, the camel driver and his wife. Though it added a little to our travel time, this brought our time in Central Mongolia in full circle to a happy close.
 Stopping for Lunch We had been on a good, well-paved road for several hours when the first surprise happened: our driver suddenly did a 90 degree turn off the highway and started out across an open field. After a while we came to a dirt track and turned down it. Another 20 minutes or so brought us to our first stop: Hustai National Park, where the Przewalski’s Horse has been reintroduced to its natural habitat. We had a short introduction at a little museum at the park’s entrance and then went back on the road, where we soon came across the horses- called Takhi in Mongolia.
 Przewalski's Horse- or Takhi After several photo stops we continued on and an hour or so later stopped by the side of a half-frozen stream where several shepherds were watering their goats and sheep. Our guide and driver made a wonderful hot soup for us while we wandered around the hillside. The male shepherd sat himself down beside the truck while lunch was being prepared and was given a couple of biscuits. Later another shepherd did the same after lunch was ready and our guide handed him a bowl of soup. This seems to be the traditional way: anyone who shows up is given– and accepts– hospitality without question.
 
After our lunch break we continued to drive cross country before meeting up with a paved road again. I breathed a sigh of relief, but too soon: we soon took another sharp left across a field, eventually meeting a faint dirt trail. This was to be our normal mode of travel for the rest of the 5 days, often going down steep embankments and fording streams or circling back when the trail ended abruptly in a ravine. Fortunately our driver was extremely skillful and we eventually accepted what at first seemed like death-defying plunges into the unknown with only a minimal amount of white-knuckled clutching and bracing.
As the sun was beginning to set we arrived at what we thought would be our first night’s lodging: several gers hard against the side of a cliff. A group of Westerners were just returning from their camel ride. We went into the first ger and were met by a lovely older woman who served us milk tea- a Mongolian specialty consisting of hot water and goat’s milk mixed with green tea leaves and salt.
 Lady of the House at Our First Ger Stop After our tea we were shown to the ger where we were to stay, but then our guide told us there was a problem: there were already two groups there and a third was on its way. We assumed this was another group from our hostel who had been going on a longer trip, so we agreed when it was proposed that we share the ger with them. A few minutes later, however, our guide came back to tell us that the other group didn’t want to stay with us, so they took us instead to a different family only a short distance away.
 Center posts of ger with slats radiating out. The gers are made with two center posts, usually beautifully decorated with traditional designs. Wooden slats radiate out from the top. A lattice work, also of wood, supports the size. The stove is in the center and there is a hole at the top for the stovepipe. Felt covers the whole framework, and usually brightly colored fabric covers the lattice work on the inside. Furniture is often decorated with the same traditional designs as the center posts.
 Inside of ger I found this first night a little unnerving: after making us supper, our driver and guide went off, leaving us alone until the morning, with the promise that someone would be in to stoke the fire early in the morning. Despite sleeping bags and fleece liners it got rather cold in the pre-dawn hours– as returning groups had warned us- and for the remaining nights we pretty much took charge of the fire-tending ourselves.
 Our First Ger Camp Seeing the view the next morning, however, all my night terrors were quickly forgotten. After breakfast we walked over to the first camp for our camel ride. It was the first time I had ridden these double-humped camels and I found them much more pleasant-tempered and easy to ride than the single-humped Saharan type. Lin and I were given traditional felt boots that came almost to our knees for the ride. They were very warm, and the ride, led by the camel-herder– the husband of the woman who had served us milk-tea — was delightful. The old man sang or smoked his pipe as we rolled along. Later he told us that the pipe was from his grandfather- and offered to sell it to us for a million tugriks. That works out to less than $1000, but there was no doubt he prized it as if it had been worth a million dollars.
 Left to right: Jack, Kate, Sarah and Lin Though we declined the offer of the pipe, as we were leaving some beautiful silk bags caught my eye and I remembered that our friend Ros had said the lady sold ankle bones- a traditional game using the ankle bone of the sheep, which has four distinct sides. (These, confusingly, are called ‘camel’, ‘horse’, ’sheep’, and ‘goat’, leading me to think at first that the ankle bones came from all these different animals.) The sacks were made by the woman herself, and she was selling a set in the sack of your choice for 5000 tugriks- about $4. I bought a set, as did Kate, and Jackson bought several of the sacks for presents.
 Lin in perfect attire for camel-riding - fabulous fake-fur hat from the Black Market in Ulaan Bataar Thursday, 5 November
Sarah and I just returned from judging the first and only international omelette speed-eating competition on board train #24 from Ulan Bator to Beijing, in the middle of the Gobi desert. The competition was the brainchild of a Slovak man and his Estonian friends who are traveling with us. Somehow they commandeered people from 12 different countries to participate, but the dining car didn’t have enough omelettes so soup was used for the first two rounds of semifinals, with the final four contestants downing a bottle of beer for the grand prize of a camping shower, which was won by an American.
 Lin in the Vastness of Mongolia We boarded the train at 7 this morning, and all day watched the vast empty Gobi fly past the windows with occasional dunes and camels. We can’t quite believe our stay in Mongolia is coming to an end – a stay so rich and full we did hardly any writing.
We left Irkutsk nearly two weeks ago and wound up sharing our compartment on the overnight train to the Russia/Mongolian border with a Russian police officer from Ulan Ude who was just returning from a vacation in Vladivostok. He bought us tea and snacks and then showed us photos of his trip before we all went to sleep. This was our first train segment in a second-class compartment because platzcart (third class) was sold out. We arrived at the border the next morning and luckily ran into one of our friends who helped negotiate our taxi ride through the confusing Russian and Mongolian frontier. We thought we had hired a taxi to take us to the Mongolian side but he dumped us before taking us across the border and we had to wait in the bitter cold for a vehicle that would take us without ripping us off too terribly.
 Men Playing Pool in Market It took about four hours to clear all the formalities, and the most striking thing was that every Mongolian official wore a facemask because of the H1N1 flu virus, whereas none of the Russians had. We also had our temperatures taken by a special sensor and were encouraged to buy masks for ourselves. We declined, but Mongolia appears to be hard hit by the virus; during our stay a state of emergency was declared and all restaurants began closing at 9:00 pm and performances and public gatherings canceled. A large percentage of people on the streets are wearing face masks, and we heard that 100 new cases of the flu were occurring daily, with several deaths so far.
 Changing the Bogies It is now 10:20 pm and our train has crossed the border into China. Because the gauge of the tracks in the former Soviet Union and Mongolia is 3-1/2 inches wider than the standard gauge used elsewhere, our entire train is now in the bogie shed, each car on hydraulic lifts – it is a fascinating process as the bogies are rolled out and replaced. The cars are arranged in two rows next to each other, and suddely Sarah looked across who should she see but Anya, our photojournalist friend from Lake Baikal, leaning out the window taking pictures!
 More Vastness Mongolia was one of the most interesting and unusual places I’ve ever been. As we drove south from the Russian border to Ulan Bator our eyes got dizzy from the impossibly endless landscapes. Miles and miles across the valleys the road looked like the thinnest silver-grey piece of tinsel, but then we’d go over a rise into another valley that looked like it would also go on for days. Snow-dusted mountains cradle the steppes in the even farther distance, and I was mesmerized.
 The Shepherd who Came to Lunch As throughout Mongolia, we saw shepherds on horseback tending herds of horses, camels, sheep, goats and yaks. About 40% of Mongolia’s population of fewer than 3 million herd the many millions of animals, the country’s economic backbone.
We spent most of our time in Ulan Bator at the Golden Gobi Guesthouse, and indeed many of our friends from Russia wound up there.
 Our Farewell Party at the Golden Gobi The city itself is a delightful amalgam of traditional customs and modern shopping centers, heavy traffic and Buddhist monasteries. We enjoyed the Ghinggis Khan Iris Pub, a Czech restaurant, Mongolian fast-food mutton-filled dumplings, and a French bakery. Sarah and I both got haircuts at the Destroy Hair Salon, where my stylist was raised in Brno, Czech Republic.
 
From the Museum of the Victims of Political Persecution in Ulan Bator, Mongolia.
 Gandan Monastery in Ulan Batar Containing a 26 meter High Buddha  Shopping for Dinner at the Food Market But the main draw of Mongolia is the countryside. Along with Kate, whom we had met in St. Petersburg, and new friend Jackson Chan from Hong Kong, the highlight of our stay was a 5-day trip around Central Mongolia. We set off early the first morning with a driver and guide in a sturdy Russian minivan, essential for the mostly off-road driving over rugged terrain and through icy rivers. Each night we stayed in gers (yurts) with nomadic families and shared their traditional food; we rode camels and horses, explored Genghis Khan’s headquarters at Karakorum, visited the oldest Buddhist monastery in Mongolia, and never tired of the hundreds of miles of wild, barren landscapes.
 With our First Host Family at the Ger  
 Statue of Sukhbatar, Sukhbatar Square The spectacular scenery as we drove down from the Russian border filled me with expectations which were not immediately met: Ulaan Bataar proved to be a smog and traffic-filled city, quite chaotic and filled with contrasts. Derelict buildings jostled new skyscrapers; men in traditional shepherd’s clothing walked, gawking, alongside men in suits with cellphones to their ears. It certainly has its charms, not least of which is very cheap prices: quite a relief after Russia!
We stayed first at the guesthouse recommended by the Lonely Planet guide, but quickly changed to the Golden Gobi, a family-run guesthouse that had been recommended to us on Olkhon Island. Most of the guesthouses run their own tours and we checked out several before deciding on a 5 day trip with the Golden Gobi.
As happened elsewhere we quickly began to run into our friends from other cities along our route. We were told that we had just missed Ros and Devina, two British army officers that we had had interesting discussions with on Olkhon, but that they had found out where we could listen to Mongolian throat singing and would like to go with us when they got back. So we decided to stay in town until then. It was a little more time in Ulaan Bataar than we might have wanted, but it gave us a chance to get warm hats and gloves for our trip and try and round up another couple of people to go with us, which would cut our costs considerably.
 Hair pre-destruction We had noticed walking around the first day a hair salon with the delightful name of ‘Destroy Hair’. I quickly decided that getting my hair destroyed in Mongolia was a once in a lifetime, not to be missed experience.
 Destruction in Progress The cost for a wash, cut and blow-dry was 8000 tugriks– about $5- and my hairdresser turned out to be very competent. The receptionist spoke a little English so I was able to get pretty much what I wanted: a quite short, easy to care for travel hairdo.
 Post-destruction
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