fillingthegaps

We were only going to be here for 2 nights and we did not expect to see too much of the Russian Capital. How wrong can you be?  We arrived at about 3.30pm – skies were overcast, the temperature was struggling to get above zero and the wind wasa blowing strongly. It was freezing! Fortunately we were met by a delightful couple with their 3 children and – most importantly- a van!

Our packs were quickly stowed into the van, and I would like to say  that we were whisked away to their apartment. But ‘twas not to be – first we had to purchase rail tickets for our next leg to St Petersburg. This turned out to be incredibly difficult and frustrating. I haven’t the time or patience to tell you all about it: suffice to say that the procedure took over an hour; they would only sell 8 tickets from one booth, they got all our passports tangled up and we ended up paying full fare for everyone and at least 4 times as much as we had budgeted for. After that the van drove off with our stuff, and we went for our first trip on the Moscow Metro. The most elaborate Underground system ever! You felt like you were raiding somebody’s Crypt. Efficient, decorative and very noisy.

After 40 mins or so we emerged above ground to be greeted with light horizontal snow. It was still cold! And walked to the apartment – the usual ugly soviet concrete block with crumbling exterior and dungeon-like interior. But the apartment itself, though tiny, was warm and inviting.We were quickly at home, and digging into large bowls of steaming soup!

We thought we would get an early night after spending the previous 4 on a train, but our hosts had other ideas and insisted on taking us to walk around Moscow’s Exhibition Centre. We got there about 8.pm and did not get home until late. needless to say we froze ourselves stiff!

After a hearty breakfast the next morning we thought we could take a quick look at Red Square and  get the kids home for a nap. But no… We got to the Square around midday then started a long trek to see the Kremlin,

Ivan the Terrible’s castle,

Red sq the changing of the guard,

a few cathedrals, the State Department store

 and a mall where we found some food. Then on again for a walk alongside the river and a look for more cathedrals. We walked ourselves to a standstill. Then another trip on the Metro to get home

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

Here are on the Anak Ranch we are getting a bit closer to living as the early pioneers must have lived. True – we get served our 3 meals a day (albeit usually in a bucket!) which some other kind sole has cooked for us, and we do get to sleep in a Ger- which in fact would not be too much different from a covered wagon. We are so accustomed to sleeping on hard board beds that the occasional wire-wove springy base is quite uncomfortable. A hard base under a sleeping bag and a rolled up jacket for a pillow is our norm – not too unlike  a bed-roll and a saddle for a pillow!

At the gers we are quite accustomed to the ‘long drop’ toilet – and the middle of the night walk to it is none too pleasant with the temperature diving to somewhere below zero. If it is windy (not too often) the wind-chill factor around the exposed tail ensures that you do not linger about the task.

All the kids had a bath (a loose term in the circumstances) in a small tin bath which they found on the ranch. Usually we wash down with the aid of a basin of water so the bath was something of a luxury. Standing room only but at least they could wash themselves down without losing any precious water!

Water is stored in our ger in an old milk-churn, and each day a couple of us wheel it around the corral fences  in an old hand barrow to the hand-pump in the cattle yard. The water comes from a deep bore and has to be coaxed to the surface by vigorous use of a hand pump (which has to be primed before it will do the job)  So again we are learning of the precious value of hard-won water-just as the pioneers would have done.

This evening we had a major clothes washing session using the tin bath once more. We were in fact washing all our jackets, which. were getting in a frightful state. The reason for condition of our jackets was a mixture of much horse riding and the constant dusty Mongolian atmosphere. The dust is so fine it penetrates into everything and just loves our  polar-fleece jackets. The horses are a motley bunch of long-haired Mongolian nags.

As far as we can tell, these horses are never groomed. They do a day’s work and are then stuck into a corral to fend for themselves. Their long hair sheds itself over everything and in this dry atmosphere our polar fleece becomes charged with static electricity. The hair practically flies from horse to jacket and at the end of today’s adventures, our jackets looked more horse hair than polar fleece!

Which brings me to our other pioneer-like experience for the day. Today we went horse-trekking. We had a horse-drawn cart, plus three horses plus another mounted Mongolian ‘minder’ who led the  way and set the pace.

A variety of people rode the three horses, either solo or sometimes two or three up. The rest sat on the flat top of the cart being jarred, jangled and jolted unmercifully as we made our way across the  ragged surface of the plain. We trekked across this vast, seemingly limitless Mongolian landscape,slowly making our way up into the low mountains surrounding the plains we are on.

The cart could not make it up the steep slopes leading to the top so many of us walked.

The lucky ones stayed on horseback and arrived at the top quite fresh. The rest of us laboured on up in varying degrees of weariness. The view and the sense of accomplishment made it all worth while.

 As is normal  in our daily activities, something notable, often amusing, occurred on our trek.The first was not actually amusing: Rach was riding one of the horses and Lboy8 was transferred from cart to the back of the horse, for a change of scenery.  We have had the situation in the yard where 5 littlies sat astride one horse, quite safely. But this was another horse- one that objected to another passenger on the back. The horse did a couple of quick spins on the spot, the force of which launched Lboy8 into space. Naturally he grabbed something to stop the fall. In this case it  was Mama who was trying valiantly to steady the horse down. Her  efforts came to an abrupt end when she was dragged out of the saddle by the boy. Worse was to follow because Mama’s boot refused to release from the stirrup. So the horse took off, dragging Mamma alongside and leaving one shaken and wailing boy in its wake. The victims were duly cheched out and fortunately found to  have suffered no serious damage. Bruises and abrasions were the main points of pain. To their credit, Mama,a re-mounted and after a short while Lboy8 was back on horseback. The other, more amusing incident involved me. (why is it that I seem to be the butt of so many jokes?) I was on the cart, which was negotiating some really bumpy tussocky ground. As the cart leaped up and down I got propelled upward and outward, being ejected from the cart deck, fortunately landing at the run. The rest of the trek was without incident and we all quite memorable day.

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!

Today we went on quite an epic trek and for me I am sure it will remain one of the highlights of this adventure. We went for a hike on part of China’s Great Wall. We started quite early – early enough to have on all available clothing and still feel the chill in the air – and we did not get back to the Hostel until about 9.45pm = and it was bitterly cold

I will give you my impressions of that day in the next blog, but first let me tell you about the other aspect of ‘ripping’. The East is well known for the entrepreneurial zeal that its citizens have for making a dollar wherever possible, and for taking advantage of Tourists in particular. You quickly become accustomed to having to reject the first price tendered for anything, and are prepared to enter into a bargaining session for most purchases. But our outing today was memorable not just for the magnificence of the wall but for the number of times the ‘rippers’ had a go at us!

To get to the section of wall that we had selected was going to require a long-ish bus journey followed by a long-ish mini-bus ride.  We walked

 to the bus stop, passing through some rather palatial buildings

 and found our bus waiting-that was good. After getting aboard the conductor=lady came down to take our money, It has been quite normal for he littlies to go free and for some of t5he others to be half-fare (the Chinese system works on the heights of children rather than age) after explaining details of the kids as best we could, the conductor was still unsure how much tot charge us. The driver then appeared (in a bad mood) and said we would all have to pay full price)   Rip-off no, 1

After we had been in the bus for about an hour, the bus pulls up on the edge of he Expressway and the driver comes down and says this is where we get off. WE had asked for a particular town, but this was not in any town! But what to do?  So off we get, thinking that we can possibly walk into town which is visible about a km away. But surprise surprise, who should appear but a gaggle of scalper car-drivers, offering to take us who knows where, since they spoke no English and we speak no Chinese. The light dawns! Rip-ff no. 2 Bus driver is obviously in cahoots with the scalpy drivers  and dellivers us into their hands. Burt we are well used to walking and we are by now a hard-nosed bunch.  Most scalperss drift away but a man and woman combination are determined to hook us. They start off at Y450 for 2 cars to take us. We laugh and walk away. They fairly quickly drop the price but in the negotiations, carried out as we walk closer and closer to the town, we establish that we are only interested in a mini-van to carry all of us, and it would need to take us to one spot and then pick us up from another (this all done by Rob by means of pencil and paper, arrows and lines and numbers, plus a copy of the Chinese names he has photographed and then stored on his Palm! We walk off and leave them again and we think we have seen the last of them, but no – they catch us up in the car and get out and start feverish offers once more. This time the offer is acceptable: Y100. We  still did not know if this was acceptable because we really did not know how far it was to the wall.  However, after a 45 min drive  we decided we had got good value. Y100 instead of the original Y900.

Then we got to the wall and purchased 5 tickets for the walk from point a to point b. Rob had asked for the 5 children’s tickets first expecting a concession rate. But 5 adult rates were charged. However at that point communications broke down as Rob tried to get the 3 adult tickets, they waved us through> So we did not argue! Rip-off no 3 ended in our favour.

So now we started the walk.

 And it was terrific. We were pressed for time  and so did a bush-walk diversion for a few km before rejoining the wall. What’s this? A guy demanding that we pay the same amount over again because we are just starting the walk! We try to explain to him that we have already paid from a) to b) and b) is within sight just 5 more towers along the wall, But no he is unshakable and we have to cough up. A passing European informs us that he is experienced in these matters and we have to pay as we are passing into a new sector controlled by a new ‘division’ It reminded me of our Maori brothers way of charging for things. This feeling was further reinforced when we had to cross a final swing bridge and found, not to our surprise, a guy sitting at the other end collecting a fee for using the bridge!

The final attempt to relieve us of our cash came at the end of the mini bus ride back into the town. Rob hauls out the agreed Y100 and the driver asks for Y120 – due to ‘extra parking money.’ We  are a bit tired by now so we don’t argue, give him the Y100 say thank you and walk away.

It was a ripper of a day!