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Paradise re-gained and on the (rail)road again

Sunday, July 12th, 2009

After the inevitable strictures placed on space, quietude, and diet consistent with living with a family of 10 in two motor homes, the past week in Canada has been almost surreal. In the most pleasant of ways!

Pre-conditioning for the time in Canada was achieved by spending 2 days alone with Eldest Daughter, zipping up to York (UK) and back to Heath Row, using a very swish hire car and staying in very comfortable accommodation. Then we flew to Ottawa and were met there by L’s old school friend, & whisked away to her parent’s spacious home in a delightful, tranquil, wooded and rather exclusive part of that city.

There I was given the exclusive use of a large bedroom complete with sauna and en suite and a large library to dip into! What luxury! Our hosts were erudite and entertaining; their hospitality gracious; their conversation wide-ranging and enlightening. It was a really relaxing and enjoyable time. And I even managed to get in a short bike ride, alongside a quiet bike path beside the river.

But that was just the beginning. From Ottawa we drove several hundred kms to the Grandparent’s  “seaside cottage”. We had been warned that this was not exactly a cottage in the British sense of the word – but the reality still hit us smack between the eyes and left us reeling in semi-dis-belief.  This ‘cottage’ turned out to be a beautiful mansion, part Mediterranean-Italian, part art-deco in appearance, set at the upper end of  gracefully sloping farm and woodlands.

Well-manicured lawns, shrubs and flower beds gave the grounds a park-like appearance and the croaking of frogs from the nearby swimming swimming pond provided a rural soundtrack as a backdrop to this little corner of Paradise. We did not see them but we were told that the local wild life often drops by to keep an eye on things: fox, wolves, deer, an occasional moose, not to mention squirrel, chipmunk and moles.

And again I found I was assigned a large bedroom all to myself with a balcony overlooking the garden, the woodlands and stretching out to the Georgian Bay part of Lake Huron. This area is prime Vacation Land in this part of Canada, and it is easy to why. In the summer, sailing, windsurfing, fishing, golf, tramping and cycling are all available within a short distance. The facilities are superb and the people warm and welcoming.

Good coffee is to be had in cosy coffee shops and superb ice cream is also available!

Nearby orchards provide a plentiful supply of fruit in season: apples, pears, nectarines, cherries, strawberries  and blueberries. Local entrepreneurs bake these up into the most delectable pies. If I wax rather lyrical it is because this really is a blessed corner of the world and it was a joy to be immersed in it for a while.

And again our hosts showered us with blessings. I have been quite happy to sleep on the floor of a Mongolian Yert, a Kowloon couch, the hard bunk of a train in China, the seat of an all-night bus to Berlin, the floor of an attic in Estonia and so on – but who can deny the pleasure of having a large comfortable bed all to yourself and to be woken by sun streaming in across the walls of a large, beautifully-decorated room, with the prospect of descending to a sunny breakfast room replete with anything your taste-buds could desire? Yes we have really been blessed by this marvelous interval.

Now I have left Daughter: I am on the Trans-Canada train

heading for Vancouver (in 3 days time) and D is spending another week with OSF and then heading back to NZ (and WORK) I am just a day into this trip and am having a great time. I have a little one-man cabin – most ingeniously designed and very comfortable.

      

I have 3 meals provided – good meals too, I might add. And  as much tea or coffee and muffins as I may care to eat in the interim! I have already met such interesting people at the dining table – what extra-orrdinary tales the most ordinary-looking people have to tell!

And so the journey continues. I am looking forward to the rest of this train trip, then a  few days in Vancouver, and then back to the UK to take up where I left off, with the Intrepid Travelers, back to the Motor Homes. Bye-bye luxury – hello more adventures!

Cologne – the ultimate cathedral?

Monday, June 8th, 2009

-well we have yet to take a look at St.Paul’s in London, but if my dimming memory serves me right, that is but a shadow compared to this simply magnificent building. Actually ‘building’ is a completely in-appropriate term for such a breath-taking, awe-inspiring example of man’s desire to honour God through architecture.

We arrived in Koln on a wet evening (yes it was raining again) but the ‘Vomo’ park still looked just great. Here we are yet again perched on the banks of the mighty Rhine river, at the edge of a beautiful tree-lined park, bounded by a  superb walk-way come cycle path that follows the river right into the heart of the city. It  was probably a 2-3km walk but one which all the kids tackled quite happily.

This twin-spire-ed cathedral is simply enormous, but beautifully proportioned.

The scope and intricacy of the stone-work defies the imagination; how could anyone sit down and plan such an enormous undertaking with its flying buttresses adorned with lace-like carvings,

the hundreds of statues and statuettes that surround the entrance archways,

the sheer size of the building and the mechanics of erecting the vaulted rooflines – it is almost too much to take in.

I was fortunate and managed to slip inside just before they closed the doors, to prepare for a service. So I managed to record a little of the magnificence of the inside.

The stained glass windows were many and varied, here’s just a sample:

Once outside again, the tribe decided to make the climb up to the belfry in one of the towers. Having done this sort of thing in years gone by, and recalling the vertigo-inducing effect of climbing a  seemingly endless spiral staircase, I elected to take a walk around the area instead. It was entertaining as well as being very pleasant. The square in front of the cathedral was buzzing with people of all sorts, busking musicians,

tourists, church-goers,

 

‘statue, figures,

 

 a pavement artist,

 

 young and old and all nationalities. Then there was the surrounding ‘old city’. Cologne was flattened by the RAF during WWII (fortunately leaving the cathedral relatively unscathed) so the ‘old city was re-built with modern buildings, but retaining the old narrow cobbled streets. So the whole area is ‘pedestrians only’ and it makes for an interesting shopping and eating district. The tribe by he way, had a great time climbing the 100’s of steps up the tower – you will have to go to ***** to read about that.

I found a Starbucks and made a note for future reference: in NZ Starbucks offer free wi-fi service to their customers and I was hoping for the same here. Later in the day R and I returned (by bike) to check it out. We should have guessed – E8 per hour! Fortunately a young woman overheard the conversation and gave Rach directions to a cafe that offered free wi-fi. It took quite a while and several more inquiries but finally we found the spot, some distance further on, but no trouble on our trusty steeds. But things seldom seem to go without a hitch with us, and so R & I found ourselves returning on the following morning to complete the mission. (I was not complaining – it gave me an excuse to treat myself to a coffee and muffin)

The mission was completed successfully but on the return disaster struck. We had to pass under a tunnel-like bridge which at the time they were washing with pressure hoses. So the place was awash with water and hoses snaking over the  footpath. Rach struck the hose at an angle that would have been ok in the dry, but with everything wet, her front wheel just went sliding away, leaving Rach sailing through the air without a bike. It was painful to watch. I had seen her thrown off a wild horse, now here she was being thrown off a wild bike. She sailed through the air in a crouched position, ready for a painful landing. But before she hit the pavement, her head hit the side-wall of the tunnel (covered in black wet goo) Then she hit the pavement with a most unpleasant thud. Damage report: one bruised side of face (smeared in black gunk), two  chaffed knees with protective jeans ripped, two sore hands and one thumb nail painfully torn. It was not good. However after a bit of a cleanup and application of plasters, the lass got back on the bike and persuaded the rapidly-stiffening knee to keep turning until we got back to base.

On the positive side, there was no damage to lap-top in the back-pack, or to the bag of ‘Berliner’ jam donuts that were in the basket on the front of the bike.

Some thoughts on a quiet day in Bingen 2 June

Tuesday, June 2nd, 2009

Here  we are in a Womo park virtually on the banks of the Rheine.

  

The sun is shining, there is a gentle breeze and it’s about 25C. Very nice. The owner of this park ( a no-nonsense but pleasant enough lady) runs a very tight ship. The place is well laid out and kept in immaculate condition.

 

We have everything we need here: fresh water; somewhere to dump our toilet tanks and our ‘grey water’ ; a washing machine and the internet available (for a price) on wi-fi. No toilet block or showers but we have those on board, so no worries.

We don’t always have it this good. If it is getting late in the day and we still have not found the park that was supposed to be ‘there’ we head for a parking lay-bye on the autobahn or a quiet free-parking zone by a park somewhere. But even that is not bad – and the cost is a lot less than booking in to a flash holiday park for the night.

But as I said, this place is situated close to the banks of the Rheine so while Rob and Jgirl14 took the bikes , baskets and back-packs for a 4km shopping trip into Bingham,

 

 and while the other kids were either doing math’s, drawing or just playing – I went for a quiet stroll down to the river.

 

The Rheine is one big river. Here we are, several hundred kms inland and the river must be at least 1/2  km wide. Not only wide but deep: some seriously large shipping can be seen cruising up and down. A mixture of touristy sight-seeing boats and some very large barge-like ships carrying all manner of things.

Which prompts a thought: this nation certainly uses every type of transport available – and all seem to be fully patronised. At this camp  we are also close to a rail system – 3 lines pass by – and the frequency of passing  trains is astounding. While I was out on a 1/2 hr stroll by the lines, at least 5 trains went by – 12 coach passenger trains and a series of 2, 4 and 6 coach commuter-type trains. Goods trains we hear going past in the night. All, I might say, gliding smoothly over smooth tracks at great speed. On the river, large boats haul goods and people. On the roads huge truck rigs roar along in a seemingly endless procession. (and at Rest stops it is not unusual to see 20 or more trucks parked). Any gaps the trucks leave on the road are filled with cars – and on the autobahns these can be travelling at up to 130kmph! Motor homes are most prolific – there must be 1000’s of them on the roads. And the road network is really impressive and generally in excellent condition. I don’t doubt that the airlines are busy too. It makes NZ’s pathetic efforts seem ridiculous.

Another significant characteristic we have noticed is the natural tidiness of the German people. Probably some Germans would laugh at the notion, but to a Kiwi it is most noticeable. ALL the houses we have seen, in villages and cities, have been well-kept with neat and tidy gardens, flower-boxes etc. Most seemed to be in good condition and those that are not are being renovated! The streets are clean. The shops are neat and tidy. The people in the street all seem to be in their Sunday-best. The occasional jack-booted tattoo-ed person, or the greasy long-haired youth are a rarity. Body-piercing is not common, but bushy moustaches and beer-pots are ‘in’. All the vans in our park are immaculate (and on average the cost would be in the E45k-E90k range) and people sit around at night in their snazzy outdoor furniture settings. Really this is a picture of an affluent, contented people who like to do everything ‘right’ and have the ‘right’ things to do it with. An example ; I bought some washing powder the other day. It was one of a vast  array of choices in the clothes washing/soap powder aisle. I picked one of the most economical, with pictures of shirts,sheets and a blow-up of a mesh of some sort. Looked ok to me so I bought it. (and have used it for hand washing stuff quite successfully) When I took the packet over to the wash-house today the proprietor would not let me use it in his machine. We eventually established that this was a powder for washing net curtains only. Now why would you need a special-purpose detergent for net curtains? They probably have a special one for socks too, but I did not go looking for that. But the Germans seem to have a love-affair with Rules and Regulations and happily obey them all, VERY different from the Kiwi attitude!

German road signage is a language you must learn as you are learning to walk. There is a sign for every conceivable situation on the road and a sign that tells you when the regulation is applicable and another sign to tell you when it is not, There is a sign to tell you the name of the place when you enter it and another (the name with a red cross through it) to tell you that you have left. They do not like the NZ style use of yellow lines on the road – so simple to install and to observe but have signs for no stopping, no overtaking, no parking this side, or that side, or both sides etc etc. But motorists are incredibly polite and safe drivers. They always seem to give way to pedestrians, cyclists and merging traffic. I haven’t seen a fist  (or finger) raised in anger but have always encountered polite consideration from drivers. It has certainly lessened the stress of our introduction to driving vans in Europe.

Well today I tried out another aspect of German culture-the breakfast. When I set off on a quiet walk this morning I had no intention of having another breakfast. But as I walked past a small cafe right on the banks of the river, and observed how  pleasant it seemed to stop and have a coffee in the sun, I went and checked the menu. I had been told that Germans love their sausage or salami for breakfast and sure enough here on the menu was a variety of sausages on offer, served with roll or chips. I ordered the roll with a beef sausage and a cup of coffee, The coffee came first, with 2 little pots of creamy milk, 2 wrapped lumps of sugar and a small biscuit, also wrapped. Shortly after, my sausage and roll was ready – served with generous dollop of mild mustard. A crisp, crunchy roll and a spicy sausage about 8 inches long! Tucking into that with the sun on my back and the Rheine spread out before me – castles sitting on the hillside across the water – was a really enjoyable experience.

 

The German breakfast met with my approval! But maybe not every morning – or I may start to  get that contented roly-poly look that so many Germans have!

Chasing supplies in Germany

Monday, May 25th, 2009

We (Rob and I) have just spent a few hours chasing up maintenance bits for the van, and doing some food shopping.

An unremarkable day in some ways, yet as I said to Rob at the end of the exercise, it is a good way to get a feel for the country you are travelling through.

Our mission was to find a water pump for the that van. This was the pump for the shower etc – kitchen sink was fine. In addition we were looking for materials to finish off repairs to the interior of the damaged nose. We needed a can of expanding foam and some material for making a section of lining. Plus sundry bits like files etc.

The camp manager here (at Reichenau on Lake Constance) gave Rach a small map and a ton of verbal instructions, telling us how to find a place that had ‘everything you could need’ for motor homes. He was most helpful, and Rachael’s ability with the German language has been a real boon.

So off we set and found the said place some 30 kms up the road. The camp manager was right – this was an absolute mega-palace of a place: a huge retail department with EVERYTHING you could imagine, plus a yard chock-full with dozens of luxury motor homes. Prices ranged from E46000 to E90000, which made our 2 vehicles absolute bargains! We found exactly the pump we needed,, plus a few other small items (including a kettle to brew the vital cuppa!) Our two aging Vomos looked as if they had escaped from Motat, but we have become accustomed to that!

We then moved on and found a huge supermarket where we stocked up on necessary food supplies. We noticed across the road a boat-maintenance yard and walked over to ask about polystyrene foam. Fortunately the one guy we found working on a boat outside proved very helpful. We had a bit of a laugh sorting out who meant what, and finally he directed us to another mega-mitre 10 type store, just around the corner. On the way out of the yard, we noticed a large pile of discarded marine carpet stuff. We called out, is this rubbish? Ja he said. Can we take some? Ja, of course! So we took out the trusty pocket knife and hacked off about 4 meters for use as a large picnic mat. Score!

Then we drove around to the giant hardware store and completed our purchases for the van repairs. We got absolutely everything we needed. We were rapt with the outcome of our expedition.

We had found helpful, polite people wherever we went, and had learned that the Germans do nothing by halves. Everything is top quality, and there is everything for every occasion. Everything is neat, orderly and very organized and there really is everything  on offer.

The only downside of course, is that everything costs an arm and a leg!

Back at base the rest of the family had had a pretty good day by the lake’s edge, so it was  a satisfactory day all round.  Now we have to pick the time for doing the next stage, which will fill the van with noxious fumes for an hour or two!

solace in Oberammergau

Thursday, May 21st, 2009

my last post was written from the Vale of Despond, or whatever Bunyan called it. Spirits were low and I had not got off to a good start.

We drove off from Rothenburg through a rainy start and aimed for Oberammergau – the township which puts the Passion Play once every decade. We drove through beautiful rural countryside and eventually crept up into the foothills of the Alps. The scenery was soothing to the troubled brow, and Oberammergau when reached, was just idyllic.

Thanks to Rach’s unending research, we found a semi-free parking zone for Motor homes. No real facilities other than a toilet block, but right next to a sparkling clear river, and all that we needed for a couple of nights.

First thing the next day, Rob & I got stuck in to repairing the Van’s bent nose, while Rach took the tribe in for a walk into the township, to do some shopping and have a look-see.

After several hours both parties were re-united with satisfaction on everyone’s lips. We had made good progress on getting the worst of the kinks out of the bent nose by making a bunch of aluminium brackets which we then pop-riveted to the mating sections. A friendly neighbour lent us his advice plus a 2kg rubber mallet and a large block of Italian hardwood. Several hearty swings with the mallet convinced the van that we meant business and gradually we got on to the winning side. Generous application of silicone sealant both inside and out, has rendered the wound watertight. She still looks fairly sad, but structurally we are on course. The cosmetics will follow as time and weather permit!

Meanwhile the shopping party returned, with news of a most attractive town and some necessary shopping done.

The walk made the shopping party hot and they went off with Rob for a very quick dip in the mountain-fed river. There were squeals of delight and shock, but all emerged tingly and refreshed.

A good end to a satisfactory day.

Tomorrow the workmen will go bck with the rest and and have a look at the town.

slow start to Berlin

Thursday, May 7th, 2009

well, we have  been in Berlin for maybe 5 days now but we have yet to get into gear to really get to know this city. True, we have experienced the incredibly relaxed, laissez-faire attitude of this Berlin society as our Couch-surfing hosts decided to turn the circular brick retaining wall surrounding a tree in the square below us,

 

 into a paddling pool.

 

They then surrounded the ‘pool’ with picnic chairs and tables, got out a variety of beers etc and stripped to Bikinis to get in the mood.

 

The passers by just smiled indulgently or ignored them without turning an eyebrow. The police (who I thought would shortly be along to arrest the lot of them) took no interest in their activities. Bizarre! Incredible! Mildly decadent! European?

Oh we have done a lot of travelling to and fro’ – using Berlin’s super-efficient Underground rail system very extensively. We have travelled from one side of the city to the other – arriving in leafy-green surroundings on both sides, but the intervening miles have been underground, so not a great deal has been seen. Why all the travelling? Well, the main purpose of getting to Berlin was to pick up a Motor-home that RnR had purchased via e-Bay. Get to Berlin, we thought, pay for and pick up the motor-home, purchase another one and we will be on our way. Hah! How wrong can you be? Little did we realise the relentless enthusiasm for detailed bureaucracy that the German’s possess! In our blissful ignorance we thought that we could purchase a vehicle as we would in NZ with maybe a few extras, because we were foreigners.

As we became acquainted with the requirements – which were revealed to us in small, impossible , difficult-to-understand installments via the German AA, the car dealer, the original seller, local friends etc – the job seem to become more and more impossible. The most likely way through the labrynth seemed to be to nominate a virtual stranger as the ‘owner of the vehicle’ and procede in trust from there. Not the most ideal solution. But hence all the travelling – shuttling to the first owner, the Berlin AA office, the car dealer (at the other side of Berlin) and back and forth several times between them all. This has successfully consumed most of the week, not to mention raising stress levels up a couple of detectable levels!

But today everything has started to come together (I might mention that this happened after some serious prayer by some people) We found that Rob could be officially registered as a resident because he possesses a British (EU) passport, and this made possible the obtaining of Insurances which must preceded purchase. What’s more, the vehicles can be in his name, which is a comfort! The saga is not over yet, but we can see a bright light at the end of the tunnel!

But I have had one ‘touristy’ interlude: late one afternoon I managed to squeeze in a walk to a memorial to the Berlin Wall.

Here there is a section of the Wall, and next to it the Chapel of Reconciliation.

The Chapel was built after the wall came down, and has been built over the foundations of the original chapel ( a classic old church) which was demolished by the Communist regime because it interfered with their surveillance of the Wall.

It was a delightful circular walk of 4 kms or so and I passed through streets lined with trees in blossom, people enjoying coffees on the side-walk, art-galleries, bakeries with yummy smells (and even yummier things to eat) – all in that delightful golden light that come with the later part of the day. It was good to walk through a peaceful and delightful part of Berlin, conscious that only a few years ago, people were being shot as they tried to escape over the wall, just 1/2 km away. It has wht my appetite: I am looking forward to taking a good look at this city!

Better pictures later

Estonian interlude

Wednesday, April 29th, 2009

Where is Estonia? you might well ask. Just as NZ is frequently confused with Australia, so Estonia is coupled with Sweden, Finland and ‘all those funny little Baltic countries’

Well we have ended up in this country for a few days – and we are really enjoying it. Population is just 1.3 million and even though the country is tiny, it has one of the lowest population densities in the world. We are staying at a ‘Drop-in centre’ in the capital, Tallinn.

This town is clean, neat and tidy and has excellent bus and trolley-bus services. It also has a fascinating Old Town center which dates back to the 14th century. It’s fascinating to see buildings this old, not preserved in a museum setting, but in daily, normal use as shops and commercial premises.

The Old Town has a real charm and character, and despite a temperature which has been hovering around the 5C with a strong cold wind, we have spent a bunch of time exploring its narrow streets and interesting architecture

    

Today a few of us went back to check out a glass-blowing  studio and we were treated to a display of an artist creating a beautiful goblet. The process was not a quick show for the tourists but we saw a serious artist at work, creating a thing of beauty, It was well worth the 4km walk in the bitter wind!

The place we are staying is really another story of its own. This is a ‘Community Centre” fully approved by the town council and recipient of all sorts of grants from various EU bodies. It is run by a group of young Estonian Idealists (“Greenies’ to the core) and they say they have the active support of the neighbourhood.

All sorts of people drop in here (including 11 Kiwis) and they are an interesting assortment. There are Australians and a variety of Estonians and other Europeans. The other day we met a Rip-van-Winkle character with a beard that put Jamie Nicholls’ to shame. He claimed (to the children) to be Santa’s Helper but in conversation with him, it became evident that he moved in fairly exalted political circles and was passionately involved in promoting Conservation and National Cleanup days, to beautify the land. It seems he is in demand as a speaker in various countries. He looked like a Swagman, with his bundle of belongings over his shoulder, but he was a man of impressive intellect. However we were not too swayed by his philosophies which included being everywhere while he was asleep and being able to commune with others just by our thoughts!)

This place is bizarre! In the back yard is an Indian Tepee; in the cellar a group are running a bicycle repair business; inside, the walls are peeling and un-papered, but hanging on them are some excellent photographic prints (an exhibition is in progress we are told) When we cooked dinner the other evening (as is the norm in a Couch-surfing place) people came out of the woodwork from all directions and I counted at least 22 bodies loading up their plates!

The building is wood and must be over 100 years old.  It has a cellar, two floors and a huge attic which we are occupying. They threw down sheets of particle board on the day we arrived, and then came up with a pile of mattresses which has meant that we are all very comfortable. You can see daylight through the roof and the end gables, but surprisingly it is not that cold.

It has a toilet, a shower and a washing machine, so we are certainly not complaining! Within the next week or so we hope to be living in a couple of motor homes, which should start a new era in our wanderings.

Watch this space.

cultural conundrums

Friday, April 24th, 2009

When reading the Bible, one thing that has always fascinated me is it’s sheer relevance to me and my life and times. Consider: the New Testament was written by a collection of authors, roughly 2000 years ago. They were Jews, Israelites, Arabs almost. They came from an agrarian culture of farmers and fishers. They could not have been less connected with today’s Western consumer-driven society. If you walked through the streets of a middle-eastern village today, you would still not expect to find too much in common with our world and our values. And yet the words of the NT writers and especially those of Jesus cut right through to the core of the issues of life – and they are as relevant today as they were then.

And why this somewhat philosophical opening? Well, given that there is evidently so much that is common to the human condition, how is it that cultures can end up being so very different?

The prompt for these musings comes from the differences observed in cultures as we have moved from China, into Mongolia and now into Russia. In SE Asia with its teeming millions of people, one gets accustomed to the pushing shoving and scrambling to get on buses and trains. But all is done with relative good humour, and friendly smiles abound, and other courtesies like respect for the Elderly, still prevail. The Chinese are a noisy lot of hard-working entrepreneurs – all are out to make a dollar wherever the opportunity can be found. Prices are bargained for vigorously but generally with some good humour. Generally, SE Asia is a very pleasant place to be.

So it was something of a shock to the system to get to the Mongolian capital and find ourselves surrounded by a grim-looking bunch of people who seemed to regard foreigners not only with disinterest but almost contempt. We perhaps should have had an inkling of things to come when we went through the visa application procedure. The general impression we got then was that we really were not welcome: as it stated on the Russian application form  – ‘even if you are granted this visa it is no guarantee that you will be permitted entry into Russia – you could still be prohibited entry at the border control.’ And as we went through The border checks, this attitude was confirmed, with unsmiling and humourless officials going about their business.

But it was the people on the street and on the train that gave us the  biggest jolt. One could hardly be critical of officials plodding through their duties at 2.0am  in the morning, but what could be behind  the churlish behaviour of your typical Igor, on the street?

Our first encounter with the the Mongolians was with our first Ger host – the Computer-expert/librarian in Ulaan Bataar. He was warm, friendly, humourous and thoughtful. His wife was likewise, and his children were intelligent  and well-behaved. But what a shock when we were taken to the local market in Ulaanbaatar.  I should explain that the market comprised a large open area filled with ‘stalls’ selling everything from plastic ware to builders supplies, used industrial equipment, clothing, leather jackets, boots, electric motors, rolls of linoleum and anything else you could think of. All stalls were minded by individuals who looked completely disinterested in the selling process! Alongside the open area was a large scruffy, 2-story warehouse- type building which was the Mongolian equivalent of a supermarket. This housed many tiny kiosk-type shops – some only just big enough to accommodate the proprietor and the meager stock in the kiosk. The kiosks specialised to a degree and the fresh goods such as fruit and veggies and meat were well apart from the dry goods areas. There was a god selection of produce. So far so good. Goods were available and reasonably priced.

The surprises came from two quarters : first the attitude of the store owners and secondly the behaviour of other customers like ourselves.

Imagine standing at the counter of a shop; the owner is busy unpacking a carton of chewing gum and arranging the packets in a display tray. You can see the pots of jam on the back shelf and wait to catch the shop-owner’s attention so that you can indicate what you want to buy. The owner continues to re-arrange the chewing gum. Having done that she then opens up a fresh carton of some other product. You are only 1/2 metre away from her, but she evidently still is too busy to see you. Suddenly you are shoved aside by a new arrival: a new customer who immediately tells the owner what she wants: thrusts some money at her and shoulders herself away. Before you can now attract the owners attention. you are more or less buried by two new customers who both start dealing with the owner at the same time. One is making a bulk purchase of noodles and requires some emptying of cartons to help her contain the purchases – the other is having a lengthy conversation about who knows what? Finally they go. You have been at the counter for 10 mins now and in desperation you make noises – any sort of a noise – to indicate that you want something to happen. Reluctantly the owner finally looks at you  and you start your purchasing by sign language. The jam is successfully obtained and now you want to get something else. As you start to indicate your next requirement, the same process starts again: you are shouldered aside by new customers who completely ignore the fact that you are in the process of being served and start their business with the owner. The owner appears quite unperturbed by this process: one can only assume that it is the normal way of doing business.

On the streets of Ulaan Bataar and in the corridors of the train coming through to Russia, we find this same belligerent ‘out of my way’ attitude. People make no attempt to adapt to the flow of bodies on the footpath or in the corridors: they simply barge on, with a square-shouldered confrontation to all approaching bodies. You do well to get out of their way or suffer the indignity of being bounced into touch.

We experienced the  same ‘shopping style’ at the little kiosks on the rail platforms here in Russia. Firstly you had to get past the owner into the kiosk: many seemed to just stand in the doorway to block you getting in. Not a welcome smile, not a shifting of the body to let you in. So you move on to the next kiosk. Ah, here you can squeeze in – there is room for at least 3 people in the confines of this tiny cabin. Just as you are about to make your purchase, two new customers force their way past you and start up negotiations with the kiosk lady, who happily leaves us in mid-air and serves the new customers.

So that is the way of things in this part of the world. What puzzles me is  how and why these differences occur.

Another interesting cultural difference is the almost universal acceptance of corruption and dishonesty. I seem to recall an Indian saying to me once that honesty was only important within the family – there was nothing wrong with lying and deceiving other people: every one just had to be aware of the way things worked.

We have learned that this train we are on is basically a travelling market. Most ‘passengers’ on the train have bucket-loads of things to sell. They have struggled onto the train loaded with sausages, shirts, shoes, blankets, T-shirts, skirts, and dresses etc. At every station they barge their way onto the platform or hang their wares out of the train windows. Waiting on the platform and rail-tracks are hordes of people eager to see what is up for sale. Trading is brisk, sales seem to be good. The fact is though, it is all apparently illegal: as we near Moscow, uniformed people are more and more in evidence, and when they are around, trading ceases. One of the strangest things has been the conduct of our Carriage Attendant. She has been very helpful and early in the journey she got us some very nice acrylic blankets to supplement the rough woolen blankets we already have. The bizarre thing is that at each stop she has been selling off these blankets to the waiting public! What we don’t know is this: is she selling off Railways property or did she lend us some of her own stock, out of sheer generosity, or were we being used as a handy storage facility to avoid duty payments as we went through Customs?? The fact is, you end up getting a little cynical about things in general. And what would that do to your World View if you grew up knowing no  other way?

In a few hours we will be in Moscow and it is going to be very interesting to observe the prevailing culture in the nerve-centre of Russia.

Later…… well Moscow is different again. We have been living with a delightful, warm and generous family. They have smothered us with their hospitality. But out on the streets the atmosphere is different. Russian Officialdom still likes to wield its power, and the paranoia they suffer from still is very evident. Police and military are ever-present, keeping a watchful eye on everybody. Maybe we should not have been there on Lenin’s birthday!

But – the conundrums remain

Mongolia re-assessed

Saturday, April 18th, 2009

Another day, another ger, and my mind was not in a good state. Living in gers had left me feeling grubby; in need of a long hot soak in an antiseptic bath solution! Our next stay is to be at the Anak Ranch: a ranch-type setting where the accommodation is again in gers – my apprehension was intense, and my sense of anticipation was less than eager.To get to the Ranch we boarded a ‘local’ sleeper train at 9.0 pm. Paying for 2nd class tickets we found ourselves booked into third class carriages. These are the ’bare bones’ 6-to-a cabin-section sleepers designed around the midget fraternity. To add insult to injury, an attendant turned up with pairs of sheets (nice, we thought) for which we then had to pay extra. Since we were getting off further up the line at 4.0am (yes 4.0 am in the middle of the Mongolian wilderness) we said we could do without them. But no, regulations insist that we must have them, and pay for them! Fortunately a friendly Mongolian lady who could speak some English came to our aid, and we managed to sort things out. (it still cost us!) The same lady also arranged to get us some blankets, which were much appreciated as the thermometer plummeted through the night, and the train heating was turned off!

I was particularly grateful because I was doused with icy water in the early hours of the morning. How? Well I went to the toilet, as one does, and no sooner had I locked the door than an icy shower came from the ceiling, soaking me front and back almost to the waist. Leaping aside with credible agility, I looked up to see the shower continuing to descend from a vent in the ceiling. I thought initially that this must be some sort of automatic cleaning sequence rather like the Eco-toilets around Auckland. Then I reminded myself-this was Mongolia! I concluded that this was the heating vent and that the heating must have just been turned back on – the resulting air blast shifting a couple of litres of cold condensate out of the system, and all over  me. When I got back to my berth, Rob was awake and I gratefully accepted his offer of the blanket. Fortunately since the humidity in this country hovers around 20% I dried out before we had to get off the train.

We had been warned that our transfer to the ranch would be either on horseback, horse-and-cart or walking  for 20-30 mins. The prospect was a bit daunting-a walk at 4.0 am with the temp sinking a fair bit below zero, but we were prepared for it as we had been anticipating this for many months. Imagine my delight to find a car from the Ranch waiting for (some of) us! The bulk of the packs and my trusty wheeled case were transferred to the car’s cavernous boot &back seats. Rach, ER2 and I climbed in beside the driver, leaving the rest to be led off into the dusty blackness. The air was decidedly nippy and we were glad not to have to ‘enjoy the experience’ We rumbled and jiggled our way for 20 mins in the car, in total blackness, the way ahead appearing as a well-worn, undulating  cattle track, snaking its way through the darkness. Arriving in total darkness, the driver cleared us and the packs out of the car, and silently disappeared. We thought of the pioneer party back at the railway station. In our minds, a 20 min drive equated to at least an hour’s walk for them! Someone appeared from out of the darkness and led us out of the frosty night into a ger with a blast furnace roaring inside. It must have been close to 40C in there. By the time we had sorted out where the packs were to go and who was likely to sleep where, the remainder of our group came trouping in, having been collected by our trusty driver.

So much for our horse-back ride in the night! We were quickly learning that our Host was quite a character with an impish sense of humour. He was larger than life, but we were to discover that this man and his Mongolian wife have carved out an impressive facility by dint of hard work and entrepreneurial flair. Flippant on the surface he was, but a shrewd hard worker lurked beneath. Rachael has described our early encounters with this man, as he terrorised and then charmed the kids back at our hostel in Ulaanbaatar

But back to the re-assessment. Here the gers (we have 2 of them) are virtually identical with our two previous encounters, but they look and  feel much more at home. As with all  Mongolian ‘houses’, they sit in a fenced enclosure, but here there are 4 or 5 gers in the enclosure, and over the back fence is the majestic sweep of the  ‘Steppe’(?) leading across to  the mountains.

Here the gers look and ‘feel’ right, and we are all loving being here.The kids are having the time of their lives, getting involved with the animals on this ranch. The ranch is not remotely ‘touristy’. They aim to give you a taste of life as they live it themselves –if you don’t like it then that would be just too bad. The gers are situated next to  what is the ranch ‘corral’ set-up.

They have an interesting assortment of animals on the ranch: goats and sheep of Mongolian variety, all with new kids. Also cattle and young calves and  selection of nags, working horses, which the children are getting more and more confident in riding. They have been helping to feed the young animals, milk the cows and shovel endless mountains of cow manure – and loving every minute of it.

 

The older ones have also taken a  keen interest in the cooking and have been assisting and learning a lot about  Mongolian food. We are really enjoying the copious amounts of fresh boiled milk straight from the cows, pl;us the yoghurt and cheese.After a period of travelling almost constantly they are loving being anchored in one place and having the space to really let their energy loose.

All our meals are provide and usually the Owner comes into our ger and shares the meal with us – sitting comfortably on the floor and entertaining us all with his endless tales of adventures in various parts of the world. You would hardly call him a steadying influence on the children: his language is colourful and his stories of encounters with other people leave the kids chortling with ‘illegal’  glee.

We are the only guests at the ranch at this time. This is the ‘off’ season – most people preferring to come when Spring has really greened the countryside and before the intense heat of the summer makes life uncomfortable again. This is a harsh environment. Temperatures drop to –40C in the winter and can hit +40C in the summer. Rain comes at the end of spring and into summer, and then switches off for the year. They don’t get pretty-postcard snow here-soft flakes floating gently down to cloak the countryside with its magic. Here snow comes as wind-driven sleet – well and truly frozen before it reaches the ground. There the wind sweeps it into frozen drifts of unyielding ice. Not too pleasant. The humidity is incredibly low – usually around 20% The air dries out your skin, your nose and your throat and leaves your body full of static electricity: when you walk close to Tgirl4’s fine blond tresses – they stream out to you like a golden spider’s web. Yesreday we had a beautiful summer’s day and everyone was running around in summer tops. Today the skies were leaden and the wind was like a knife. Sleet was in the air and most laid low in the ger until the sun broke through this afternoon. It was still cold – but the kids were anxious to hone their horse-riding skills!

In short, we are having a ball. This family is now certain they have to have a farm when they get back to NZ. THey love the animals, they love horses, in fact Kgirl10 has decided horses are even better than cooking or dolls We will be quite sad to leave this remote but beautiful corner of our world. But but we have more adventures ahead, so that softens the parting pangs

          

another day – another Ger

Thursday, April 16th, 2009

I have to confess   – life in a Ger is not for me.

Let’s try to find the positives: you get to live with the indigenous people. Certainly the family in the first Ger were nothing short of inspirational. The family in this (2nd) Ger are different – and do not rate in the ‘positives’. Then there is the locality – there is the outlook across the wide Mongolian plains, At this time of the year they are just recovering from winter’s icy blasting. Grass is short brown and shriveled – if it exists at all. This terrain may look beautiful under snow, or when the grass is shooting up in all it’s greenery. Right now the outlook is bleak, barren and lifeless. Not really a positive.

What about the amenities? Well in the first Ger, from your enforced crouch position in the ‘dunny’ you could see a glimpse of the rolling hills in the distance. There is no enforced squat in this dunny – it is just an open shed-like extension off the end of the decrepit wooden building the owners call home. The view is unobstructed as the dunny is doorless  – an open vista spreads before you. The malodorous gathering heap beneath your teetering tail does not bear inspection – but you have to check in case some beast is lurking down there to drag you in. No, sorry – not a positive. Ahh but I was too hasty in my judgment. We have since discovered two very civilised sit-down dunnies in a very tidy shed – complete with lights . So that was a positive.

What about a shower to freshen up? H’m well of course you don’t find piped water in a Ger and in this one there is no hint of a jar of water in sight. One hopes there will be a basin in the adjoining house.

We have just dragged out all the squabs and duvets and beaten the daylights out of them to remove as much of the Gobi as we can, and we do have ‘beds’ to sleep on. So we should get some sleep. This Ger is obviously built a lot lighter than our previous one: a Susuki vs a Volvo. You can tell by the way this one shakes rattles and rolls in the wind, that this one does not have the layers of felt cocooning you from the elements raging outside. Our hostess told us that tomorrow they are taking one of the two gers down. From the look of things as I write, maybe the one we are in may beat them to it!

Our hostess is a German lady who has apparently lived here for the past 9 years. She has a Mongolian husband and (I think) 2 children. She is something of an oddity, as I guess you would expect. Living in a Ger with a Mongolian husband is not the norm for the average Fraulein. She is what we would call a ‘hard case’ having a brusque but friendly-enough disposition; a colourful vocabulary and a liking for a cigarette in her mouth most of the time,  The husband keeps out of sight. Not being able to communicate may be rather restrictive. Sabina is clearly using this system of housing guests to supplement her income. The food Rach bought yesterday for our dinner has mysteriously shrunk to half size. the lollies she bought seem to have disappeared!

She drives a car as a ‘taxi’ to supplement her income when necessary. The Taxi service in this city is a little obscure. When someone tells you to get a taxi they mean get out on the street and just eyeball the drivers. The ones available are looking out for you and will pull over. Meters? You’ve got to be joking. Sabina’s ‘car’ has to be seen to be believed. We have all had a ride in it so we know what we are talking about. It used to be some sort of Hyundai but has long ago passed its prime. Missing door handles, (which mean only the driver can actually get out of the car un-aided)missing window winders, rear view mirror and anything else that could fall off. The brakes and clutch work with vicious, snatching  efficiency. The shock-absorbers gave up the struggle with the pot-holed roads long ago and so the ride is bone-jarring every inch of the way! Every jolt is accompanied by crashing sounds from the remains of the boot. Later inspection reveals that the wrap-around rear bumper assembly is hanging on the rest of the car by the skin of its teeth, flapping and clashing with every new jolt, and useless shock-absorbers rattle their bones in a frenzy of frustration. The steering linkage would appear to have lost all bearings and bushes as the steering wheel is wildly swung this way and that, taking up the slack to avoid pot-holes or even to maintain a straight course. A drive in this car is not for the faint-hearted – but we have survived.

Dinner has been had, and I have to report that camel-meat tastes pretty good. Blended with a delicious vegetable stew it went down very well. My thanks to J14, Rach and hostess, who seemed to be preparing it in shifts. Kyle did the washing up squatting on the floor of the kitchen in the house, and before I forget I should pass comment on the ‘welcoming’ nature of our hostess. Having abandoned the cooking process she lit up a fag and settled down to play solitaire on her battered old computer. Solitaire is usually a quiet game but this lady evidently finds loud Mongolian music helps sharpen her acuity. So with music blaring, cigarette puffing away and with back firmly to our guests, she left us to it. Not that we were looking to be entertained at all, but it was a bit strange being in the same room and being treated as if we were not there! 

Now we are all settling down to get to bed. It;s a bit off a squeeze as we have 6 cots to sleep 11 of us. Mum Dad and some kids will be ‘sardined ‘ onto 2 beds stacked together and others  top and tail. Being an old fogy I have been granted the luxury of  a cot to myself. The cots are hard planks. the padded coverings are thin so it looks like being a not too deep sleep tonight!

To add to interest, we had a bit of a sandstorm this afternoon. We have been getting accustomed to clear blue skies for weeks on end and it was something of a surprise to see the skies darken. Then the wind got up and rapidly developed into a mini-gale’ With the wind came the sand. This quickly blotted out all the surrounding scenery and all but the closest objects – filling the eyes,ears and nose very quickly. The elements were endured long enough to take a few hasty pics

    

and then I retreated to the safety of the ger. Fortunately the storm was over quite quickly, but of course the dust remains. The dust is in every thing: your nose, eyes, ears and hair, not to mention your clothing, the floor you walk on, the stool you sit on, the table you eat from and the plates you eat off. Our Hostess and family had long stopped fighting the elements and wore grimy clothes with hands and faces to match. There was no evidence of any discomfort with this situation, which I found disconcerting.

On the plus side, we did get to witness the taking-apart of a Ger – something nomadic Mongolians did on a regular basis as they shifted their herds of goats and yaks to new pastures. The process was surprisingly speedy and relatively simple, as the accompanying photo-essay will reveal.

   

  

 

     

  

What the pics do not reveal is the clouds of dust which accompanied every new layer peeled off the unit! It took something like 3 hrs to pull the whole thing apart, and apparently it should go back up almost as quickly. Not bad for a finished, livable house.

Our next move is to a Ranch, where we shall be living in a couple of gers for a week. At this stage I am fervently hoping that things will be better than this last!