fillingthegaps

We walked part of The Great Wall in China; we walked right around the Wall surrounding the city of Xi’an and now we have experienced the European counterpart – the walled city of Rothenberg.

Rach had found us a very pleasant Van Park in Rothenberg, and we discovered to our pleasant surprise that it was only 5 minutes walk away from the walled city.

The weather was too threatening for us to start repairs to the van, so we took a walk into the Old Town before starting off on our next leg.

What a formidable sight, is this Walled City. Had I been an invader, I think I would have taken one look at the moat, the massive walls, the solid port-cullissed (?)gateway, the hundreds of arrow slits in the walls, and I would have said”let’s go home lads – this nut will be too tough to crack”

The defences were massive and the architecture impressive. Goodness knows how long these sorts of castles took to build, but one would have thought that the person who designed and commissioned the structure would have been long dead before it was completed. They must have had a real sense of continuity, and a confidence that their ancestors would still be in control to continue the Project.

Inside the wall, (entered through massive gateways)

 a thriving township  was built (and no doubt re-built over the ages.) Today a most picturesque town exists,

 climbing gracefully up the side of a gentle hill. Old buildings they may be, but they all house people and businesses.

Several of the buildings are home to bakeries and all produce a variations on the town’s specialty: a thing called a Schneeball (‘Snowball’ ) These are a cricket-ball-sized ball of twisted pastry strips, deep-fried and then enhanced with a variety of dips, drizzles and flavourings. They  were not cheap, but we had to try such an interesting piece of German culture!

The  Square was towards the high end of the  town, a feature of most European towns that I really like. This one was on a slope being placed on the side of the hill.

As usual, cafes spilled over onto the sidewalks in a profusion of tables and chairs, lending a casual, relaxed air to the township. Very pleasant!

I have to confess there have been many times in recent years when those nagging doubts that invade the minds of the ‘Elderly’, have certainly made their assault on my grey cells. Non-positive thoughts such as: old, useless, in-the-way, nothing –to-contribute,etc. etc  frequently invade the  mind of this ancient, fairly deaf, getting physically less-able, out-of-touch old codger.

Today was just the second day into our  motor home adventures and it was set to be a glorious day. The sun shone from a cloudless sky, barely a breath of wind, the countryside alive with birdsong and Spring’s first radiant flush of brightest greens and yellows. Ah the world looked good, and indeed it was – and still is.

We travelled in convoy with Rob and Rach in the  lead – trail-blazing with the aid of map and trusty GPS. I was getting more and more  comfortable with the job of driving the second vehicle – we were even overtaking heavy trucks on the autobahn, on the long slow-ish climbs, and tooling along at 90 ks felt fine. (Oh how the mighty have fallen! )

Driving along a quiet secondary road, towards the end of the day’s run, my attention must have wandered and suddenly I found the  outside wheels of the van were in the soft shoulder of the road.  Immediately the van veered onto the grass verge and started bucking like a wild bronco. I was wrestling very hard to maintain a semi-straight course. trying hard to regain the seal. Well I was getting there ok but unfortunately  the Germans had decided to put up a sign on a pole,right in my way. I was still struggling to keep the van from getting right out of control, so avoiding action was not an option. With a tremendous thud the pole was demolished and we lurched on. back to the safety of the road.

A stop at a rest point shortly thereafter gave us an opportunity to survey the damage.

Horrors. It was far worse than I had feared: the canopy that overhangs the van’s cab (sleeping quarters for two) had taken the full force of the blow and was very severely dented. Wrecked would be a more descriptive way of putting it. The damage is severe, It will have to be fixed and that will take time, not to mention money.

Now you know why I started with those negative thoughts, Believe me they are hard to shake off when you do something really stupid like this.

Rob and Rach are very gracious and have not vented there frustrations upon me. But at times like this I have to wonder – maybe it’s time to act your age and go home and have a nice cup of tea and a nap.

We finally arrived in Rothenberg and parked at a very nice Van Park close to town.

Next day. We spent most of today trying to sort out someone to repair the van. This turned out to be another saga – which we are getting accustomed to with things relating to vans. Rach & I found a friendly mechanic who did all he could to help. In the end he suggested we try a caravan repair place in a town 30 kms away. So off Rob and I went and found the town. Passing through we noticed a large motor home dealers so we called  in there before moving on to the recommended place. The dealership was full of luxury super-homes and as we trundled in with our sad & sorry-looking 1983 Fiat you could almost feel the immaculately-suited gents recoil in horror. They really did not want our thing spoiling the look of their display. We climbed down and asked if they could effect the repairs. They looked pityingly at us and said the repairs would cost at least E3000 and the van was only worth E800! “please go away” was the message we got. So away we went and found a friendly service station guy further down the road. When we described the place we were looking for it quickly became obvious that that was where we had just been! Our options had dwindled to one – do it yourself. So off we went to the local ‘Mitre 10’ and bought up tools and bits and pieces which we hope are going to be sufficient for  us to tidy things up and make it all watertight. Today it rained so repairs were out of the question, Instead we drove down to Oberammergau, nestled in the foot of the Alps. Beautiful countryside and we found a nice cheap place to park the vans

More later.

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

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.

The train journey from Moscow to St P was sooo different.

We have become accustomed to travelling in ‘open sleepers’ where the kids can chase up and down corridors, we can spread ourselves on the bunks for a game of cards, and where the passing passengers stop and peer in to our cabins to see what we are doing, eating or reading. But not on this elegant and very  expensive train – travelling from Moscow to St Petersburg! Travel now is much more onerous. Decorum abounds. We are all are seated quietly in our plush recliner seats. But no hot water boiler at the end of the corridor for making a cuppa, No free packets of tea/coffee/ no privacy to make a meal no all gawking together out of windows.  More like a doctors waiting room. ‘Respectable’ it was and jolly uncomfortable to boot.

We arrived 11 pm. St.P was still buzzing. The City was bustling – and very cold! Judicious use of notes , the GPS and enquiries gets us to a bus stop. We sort out fares with conductor (always a mission with 11 of us and all different ages!) and tget off at the GPS-dictated stop We soon found our hostel and wearily trudged up  3 flights of broken stairs to our dorm

Next morning a quick trip to the local ‘supermarket’ for b’fast supplies revealed a taste of the elegance this city possesses. Grand old buildings, no broken paving, everything clean and tidy – and a tangibley relaxed and cultured atmosphere. So different from Moscow.

The transition is almost complete : East says goodbye to West

So started a long day. Lots of walking and quite a bit of Underground training.

We took in a castle and a few cathedrals etc.

decide just as easy to walk back –past Hermitage Angel eetc

finally arrived back after 8-10 k walk. A good day!

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

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