fillingthegaps

The day broke cloudy and cold – a brisk wind blowing which after a while, chilled to the bone. At least it chilled this old codger’s bones and I think a few more of the party were none too warm.

We had determined to take a hike from our van park in Kehl (which is in Germany) to Strasbourg, (which is in France) just a ‘short walk’ after crossing the Rhine, which at this point forms the border between the two countries. We packed a lunch, determined to not let the weather deter us, and off we went.

This happens to be a most well-endowed little township (maybe it is a city?) and where we were staying, we were right next to beautiful river-side parks and gardens, with copious sporting facilities and well-equipped children’s playgrounds. At the start of the walk one of the kids would ask “can we go to the playground?” but always came back the answer –“on the way home – let’s get to where we are going first”

On we walked, past a delightful Biblical garden – beautifully set out to depict important events in Biblical history in granite sculptures and appropriate plantings,

On and over one of the most ingenious and genuinely artistic bits of bridge engineering I have seen,

Past a circus and then a school for budding circus performers; still no sign of Strasbourg, and we were a little hesitant as to which direction to take next. Time to try out the 65-year-old French rusting away in the grey cells: ‘pardon m’sieur, mais parlez-vous l’anglais?” “Non!” came back the less-than-encouraging response. However after I manfully struggled on to enquire the way to the old Town, and the guy took pity on me and made it known that the Old Town was that-away and it would be a 40 minute walk. After a brief conference, we decided to press on, leaving the comfort of parks and circuses and hitting the hard pavements.

Eventually we came to a park and here was the Citadel – not in the Old Town but getting closer (so we thought) Anyway, a children’s playground, a park bench, and it was time to have a lunch break. Pity about that freezing wind……

Spying a lady on a park bench, and emboldened by my success(?) on the previous occasion I sallied forth to ask the lady in my best French if she could direct us to the old town. Quickly she established that she and her husband (who had a map but had gone for a walk) were  German, and her English was better than my French! But I did learn that our objective was still at least 1/2 hour’s walk distant. We had determined that we would do it, and when the friendly husband turned up with his map it enabled us to set our course once more.

Well eventually we did reach Strasbourg Old Town – and it really was worth the effort, a charming, graceful  , character-filled town that delighted us all.

In addition it had the most amazing cathedral that enthralled all but the littlest among us.

After that we decided that having already walked about 12km, we would catch a bus/tram or train back towards our home base. Diligent study of some excellent maps at the tram stop showed that we could catch a tram to the nearest bus stop. We were delighted: the trams and buses had impressed us with their swish styling

and I for one was itching to  take a ride in one (my legs were feeling it too!) We  discovered that we could get a group ticket qt reduced cost and joyfully advanced on the ticket-machine. Frustration! The machines only accept coins – and we needed 10 Euros. Off I  went to the nearest shop – a pharmacy- to get some coins. Explaining to the lady that I required some ‘medecin pour le mal de tete’ I then added that I would like some Euro coins to pay  for le Tram! She evidently understood my tortured words for the transaction was completed to everyone’s satisfaction and I came back with a pocket full of Euro pieces.

So away we went on the Super-Tram. More like a train than a tram, and when it dived into a tunnel, it just rocketted along-faster than a speeding bullet!

To add to the interest. we found ourselves getting off at Strasbourg’s main railway station –a really impressive bit of architecture,

Then to the bus. ‘Ou se trouve l’autobus nombre deux? I asked a bus driver. ‘La – devant vous’! and there it was right next to the bus stop where we were standing!

A good bus ride and we were back at the circus – still a long walk thorough the parks and over the bridge but these kids have an endless supply of energy and when we got to the playground they had a ball.

While Mum and Dad and J14 went back to the vans to prepare dinner I kept watch on the rest. After 1/2 hour we finished off the day’s activities by climbing the 199 steps up a magnificent wooden viewing tower to take a bird’s-eye view of our neighbourhhood. By the end of the day the sun had finally broken through and it looked beautiful.

A 14km walk – a bunch of exercise – lots of interesting things to see and do, A good day was had by all.

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!

it was always a story that appealed to me, as I read it to my kids when they were small. I can’t remember the outcome, but doubtless the penniless tailor ended up by marrying the princess – and lived happily aver after.

Anyway, on this day we did something which I thought was equally impressive – we drove through 3 countries in one day. We started in Germany, nipped into Austria, slipped across a corner of Switzerland and ended up back in Germany. (Rach tells me that the real facts are: Germany, went into Austria, back into Germany, back into Austria, into Switzerland then finally back into Germany)

I’m not sure that that was the intention when we started, but the GPS went looking for a town of the same name as the one we were wanting and it was some time before the discrepancy between our actual route and the required route, was detected. However the result was that we drove through some spectacular Alpine countryside, with superb scenery. Sorry – no pictures. I was driving and believe me, with the memory of my recent ‘off-road’ experience still fresh in my mind, all my concentration went on watching the clearance between wheels and grass verges and/or white centre-line in my rear-view mirrors. The Vomo took up a full half of the narrow twisty mountain roads so it was not the time for gazing at scenery!`

Our mid-journey deviation back into Germany was to visit the ‘King’s Castle” “Konnigschlosser” was the name I think. Areal ‘fairy-tale’ castle and most famous in Europe. Unfortunately, half of Europe thought it was a good idea too, so we drove into the town, wriggled our way through masses of traffic and people and drove out until we could find somewhere quiet to park and have lunch. It was very peaceful and pretty too.

And in the distance, through the summer haze the castle could be seen!

After lunch we pressed on and finally arrived at our destination, on the shore of Lake Konstanz. Actually the address we had turned out to be an abandoned parking lot but after deciding to bite the bullet and book into the fancy Caravan park, we discovered the cheaper version right next door. There seemed to be no spaces left, but rather miraculously someone decided to leave as we arrived (maybe they saw the 8 kids?) and then Rach politely asked a group (who had themselves comfortably spread over 3 lots with chairs and tables etc.,) in her best German, if it was permitted to park in their space, and they graciously admitted it was permitted! So we had our 2 spaces!

We plan to stay here for a day or two while we try and replace the pump out of the other Vomo’s main tank (for showers etc) This decided to  pack it in just after I had used it yesterday. And we will also be looking for the last bits and pieces to  fix the front of said van. The Lake is a few minutes walk away and we have discovered a quiet spot for a paddle and a swim, so hopefully the kids will be happy.

what a treat this place is!

We have seen plenty of historic buildings since we have been in Europe. People living in houses that were constructed long before New Zealand was even discovered (by Europeans, that is) We have almost become blasé about ancient dwellings. But Oberammergau is a real gem: almost impossibly pretty, so much so that you suspect that you have walked into a ‘working model’. And yet this is very much a business-as-usual township. That Tourism is the business is obvious, but to have the whole town engaged in the vision is really extraordinary. Even the most humble of dwellings, away from the main thoroughfares, is kept neat and tidy, and is a pleasure to behold.

But the main streets are a real picture. Literally, many of the houses sport decorative murals or motifs that make each one worthy of a thorough inspection. Religious themes:

folk-tale stories:

or simple decoration for the sake of it – all are here in abundance.

And of course the semi-Alpine nature of the architecture gives each building a charm of its own.  Then the whole town nestles in the valley between craggy Alpine outcrops – a jagged skyline softened by green swards of pasture lying like green blankets on the hillsides.

They say this place comes alive at the once-a-decade Easter Passion celebration, but frankly I would not want to see it any busier than it has been today. The cobbled sidewalks are awash with tables and chairs filled with folk enjoying a beverage and a tasty tid-bit. Cycle-tourists, cars and pedestrians mingle fairly seamlessly in this buzzing township and give the place a lively atmosphere. A real treat to have been here.

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.

We have been in Berlin now for nearly 2 weeks. Enough time you would say, to see all the significant spots at a comfortable pace. Unfortunately it has not been the case due to the ongoing saga of purchasing 2 motor homes (plus getting a replacement Bank card as a side-issue) We have dealt with (and finally overcome) Germany’s bureaucracy to become officially Registered, thus enabling subsequent steps of Insuring the vehicles, then getting vehicle registration (after confirming with certificates that they have the necessary TUF (warrant of fitness) and then Number-plates for the two vehicles. In NZ this would be an afternoon’s work at the Post Office. Here it has taken over a week with a lot of blood, sweat and tears (well, almost). We had great help from some of the guys at the couch-surfing place where we were staying. The lady we were purchasing one vehicle from met us at the German AA office, but their combined efforts ended with them saying that it looked impossible to do! The AA tried to be helpful but just did not have the experience that we needed to solve the issues.

So here we are, proud possessors of one vehicle

and with the other one due to be ready at the end of the week, the delay being due to work necessary (at the Dealer’s expense) to get the ‘TUF’ certificate.

However we have squeezed in a fair bit of sight-seeing in between all the tripping to and fro’ and we have become seasoned users of the Berlin U-bahn,(metro) S-bahn (rail) systems, trams and Shanks’s ponies. We have walked the streets, played and pic-nicked in their parks,

and more recently driven a motor-home through the heart of the city and successfully navigated to an obscure camping supplies shop to buy a ‘Porter-potty’ for the other van. (for this last feat all credit goes to Rob for his driving skills and his trusty GPS)

I managed a walk down to The Brandenburg Gate

and the Parliament buildings

just yesterday, and in addition to the historic places there were a lot of interesting other sights, such as the full size puppet manhandled by about 6 people.

Plus an interesting assortment of pedal=powered machines.

……and today we got to see Checkpoint Charlie and Potsdamer Platz – both of which I have to say, were pretty much non-events. Important in the history of Berlin no doubt, but visually very ordinary. Far more impressive was Berlin’s central railway station – a marvelous suspended glass structure.

We ran out of booking space at the first couch-surfing place, so we had to move last night to a new couch-surfing host. Here some of us are very comfortable. I say some of us because they have managed to find space for 3 of us, the rest having to sleep in the van. Of course the van is comfortable enough but is not in a Camping ground – it is parked in front of a row of shops about 1/2 km from the apartment. We are not sure how legal this is, but we are keeping a low profile!

The whole tribe comes over to the apartment to eat breakfast and dinner at night and to get washed up etc. It is not the most convenient, but it is a real God-send until we get the second  van and head off into the wide blue yonder to be completely independent. Then things will really be looking up!

And to add to the satisfaction of the day, I have just learned that my new Bank card has arrived at the first address we had in Berlin, so tomorrow I will be off to pick that up, and start to get solvent once more!

We are being hosted by 3 young ladies: a Social Science student, a nurse and a Receptionist. They have (by European standards) a really large apartment with probably 5 large rooms, a small kitchen and 2 toilets (one of which has a shower/bath) The 3 of us are in one bedroom, all to ourselves, which is something of a luxury and we are very comfortable.

On the down side, many of us are plagued by a wretched cough and some have heavy colds, so we are not at our sparkling best – but the sun is shining, the days are getting longer and warmer – summer is coming and we will soon be bouncing again.

We are really looking forward to this next stage in our wanderings.  Internet connections may not be so readily available but I’m sure we will stay in touch.

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

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

here at the Anak Ranch we have been enjoying idyllic Spring weather:  bright blue skies, tiny wisps of  occasional cloud and warm, warm sun. The breeze has been light or non-existent, It has been beautiful. Crisp in the morning and evening but comfortably warm during the day. As I said-idyllic.

When we were at the second Ger in UB we experienced a brief but fierce sandstorm. This in a way prepared us for the storm we had at the Ranch today. At one moment farm activities were going on as normal and in the next instant we noticed a sudden scurrying activity around the  place. Looking over in the distance we noticed that ominous grey/black clouds hugged the ground, and there was a sudden stirring of the breeze. Sandstorm coming! Almost before we had registered the fact, the wind was starting to howl: eyes,ears, throat and hair were suddenly filled with choking dust. But the real concern was for the stability of the gers. The heavy calico sheath which holds the thick felt walls and roof-cladding in place, can act like a sail in fierce winds. The sheath can lift and shift out of position, so the race was on to ensure that all the tie-down lashings were  doing their job and holding things in place. One of the significant dangers is the likelihood of the covering moving into contact with the steel flue from the fire, which sticks up through the centre of the roof. So there was much heaving tugging and re-tying of the lashings – all done in the blinding choking sandstorm, and with temperatures dropping rapidly.

And this was no 2-minute wonder. Ties storm raged and howled around us for several hours; everything shaking and rattling as if to send the ger into a flying bundle of cloth felt and matchwood. But the gers held firm. unfortunately the wind was too much for the power lines feeding this area, and  suddenly we were pitched into total darkness as power poles toppled over.

So we finished our dinner by candle-light, with the  storm continuing to batter us. Nothing to do but get to bed a bit early. We noted, as we took our late-night trip  to the deny that there was sleet in the wind, mixing with the sand. So still no romantic snow fall for the kids!

By the way, the ger was rendered safe by some swift action from the local staff. Two of them entered, carrying a pickle-jar full of water and some string. Wordlessly they put a stool on top of our table and the tallest reached up and tied the jar of water to an eyelet set in the top frame of the ger. Then they departed. We speculated on this at some length. Maybe it was a fire-extinguisher – if the ger collapsed, the jar would crash and break on top  of the firebox; maybe it was a steadying weight, but surely it was too  light? Final consensus was that it must be related to some local folklore. Enquiry in the morning confirmed our speculation: this is a traditional safety measure. Since water is heavier than air, this jar of water would prevent the air from lifting our roof off!

So this was a timely reminder that Spring is not fully here, and WINTER HAS NOT COMPLETELY DONE WITH US.

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