China and Beijing illness

So I made it China and the end of the trans Mongolian trip. I felt like I should have been victorious but something was brewing, little did I know what it was at the time. The culture shock for me in Beijing was huge. Spitting, shouting, pushing. Some of the smells in the street must have been from Hell, or somewhere as bad. And the pollution was unbelievable, shockingly bad in fact. That afternoon I visited the Olympic site, and was impressed with it's size and actually that it was still very popular. I can't help feeling the London Olympic legacy won't be quite the same.

Later on that afternoon my finally body let me down. It gave in to the Badness. Even after all my moaning, I have NEVER felt as wretched as I did for my time in Beijing. Truly awful. All I could do was hope my immune system was up to it and I wasn't going to die (it crossed my mind). When you spend days in bed with nothing to do odd thoughts come into your head including how long would it take for someone to find a rotting corpse.

Eventually after 4 days of sweating, cursing the Chinese government for banning facebook, my blog and anything of interest, vommiting, sleeping and sweating, I made a break for freedom. It was an unsteady start, with only a banana for sustinence and support from Ben (a guy I had met in Mongolia on tour who was in Beijing that day) we ventured to the Lama Temple (largest and one of the most important centres for Tibetan Buddism in the world), the Drum Tower (tower on a hill full of drums originally used for telling the capital what time it was) and ate some delicous duck at Da Dong's (or so Ben tells me, he ate an entire duck, I had an orange juice).




The spitting thing did start to get on my nerves, as did the shouting and pushing. They spit everywhere. In temples, in restaurants, in tube stations, in front of you, behind you, in shops, in bars, in buses, in trains, in toilets, on carpets, on tiles.. and most dangerous of all on bikes (some are electric, meaning they are silent and so you sometimes don't know they are there until they've ridden over your toe) when they are riding past you, you get the picture. It's just wrong.

The next day things moved lower down in the belly if you know what I mean, so I braved Chairman Mao's mausoleum (like Lenin he is mummified, why? who knows), Tinanamen Square and the Forbidden City. Mao was weird. The Chinese come in their thousands to see him. Remember he is a man who killed them in their multi millions (and friends tell me he was actually very thick and used to make up science). There are pictures of him everywhere, and actually when you do finally get in to see him, well I won't spoil it for you but he looks like an alien. In the hall he's in, there are signs everywhere saying no talking, and it was like a God send, finally some peace and quiet. Like with most of these sorts of things you have to keep walking past him, which I did but at the top of the "coffin" it had his birth and death dates etc and so I slowed, only to be immediately "indicated" to quite energetically by an angry looking man to keep moving. It took a lot for me not to laugh in his face.

After that I wandered through Tiananman Square, repeatedly refusing to buy a Chairman Mao watch (although part of me did want one) to the Forbidden City. Toilet count since leaving the hostel, 5. A great thing about Beijing is that they have public toilets everywhere, probably because if they didn't people would shit in the streets (the small children actually do). So I was ok as far as toiletting accommodation.

Even though I was weak, the Forbidden City was awesome. Again the only problem was the pushing and shoving to see in the halls but it was very impressive. The most interesting fact I learnt was that on each stairway leading up to each hall there are massive marble carvings inlaid into the floor at the same angle as the stairs. These vary bewteen 5-20 metres long and are always made from one piece of rock. They had to transport these from a mine outside of the city. To get the slabs to the Palaces they would, in winter, spray the streets with water until it turned to thick ice and then slide the rocks all the way on the ice. We're talking between the 13th-14th century here, how impressive is that? Also, another grim fact, is that at some stages during the Ming and Qing Dynastys the emperor would have over 20,000 concubines. Something to do with the Emperor being the extreme of Yan, and therefore needing large Yin to ensure a balance. Yeah right. Plus if a concubine was naughty she didn't just get sacked, she got thrown down a well to drown. Nice.

I wondered to the Night Market and felt very sad when I saw things seahorse kebab for sale and lots of tourists thinking it was cool to buy them. FYI it's not cool. It's sad. Enough of that but they also sold bbqed cat, dog, scorpion (alive), cockroach, crickets, tarantulas, snake..... and so it goes on. I had a freshly made spring roll and then ventured on to a restaurant where I just made an absolute cock up. It seems that my idea of what one person can eat is not that same for a Chinese person. As you know having been ill, my stomach was pretty much the size of a pea, so all I wanted was a small bowl of rice, some spinach and a bit of meat. Somehow I ordered a banquet (total cost £4) and had to leave in embarrassment after feeling full after two mouthfuls. I felt so guilty it was horrible.

Next day I followed in Richard Nixon's footsteps and headed to the Temple of Heaven (they display photos of world leaders at the temple, he is one of them). A very beautiful place used by the emperors to worship and make sacrifices to Heaven in return for a good harvest. Sacrifices include skinning a calf alive and then burning it. Sweet. Afterwards I headed over the Summer Palace to get some fresh air, although I wouldn't call it fresh....... The Summer Palace was used by the emperors in summer to escape the heat of the Forbidden City. The lake and hill the palace stands on were all dug and created by men, it's a bit crazy when you think about it. So I walked around the lake, bought some souvenirs and realised it was my last day until I come back in October. I think my illness tarnished my view of China and so I'm hoping when I do come back I'll see things differently. 

So back to London to organise a wedding. On the flight home I met a young Chinese guy planning to study English in Germany (not sure that makes sense). It was his first ever flight (yes I swapped seats with him so he could see out of the window) and I wondered how he would fit in in Germany (like I hadn't fitted in in China). Well he buttered his bread with a fork and put pepper in his coffee, so I wished him lots of luck. 

So the trip is on hold for the time being but I'll be back soon for some more fun and frolics....

Surprise meeting

So, after Steph nearly burnt down the Ger we headed off to Lake Hovsgol. It is called the sister lake to Lake Baikal (wait, I hear you cry, we know this lake!) but in fact it is not nearly as big. A very beautiful place though, partly spoilt by the crazy Mongolians playing techno (or techtonic as they like to call it, which in fact is also a dance craze sweeping Mongolia as I speak with arm movements to rival Simon's best efforts) at all hours of the night, as well as circling in the lake in a boat with a megaphone shouting nonesense. More horse riding.

We next attempted to get to Delger Murun but the river was so high we had to camp somewhere else. A beautiful evening though, with the temperature finally rising, and we were allowed to have our first camp fire. Yipee! We roasted ChocoPies (doubt any of you will have heard of them, a mix between chocolate teacakes and wagonwheels, so we got a bit of marshmallow action) and tried to sing a song everyone knew but the Swiss wouldn't make a decision so we didn't sing anything. Really much to my relief but much to Stephs disappointment.

On to Uran Togoo, and another campfire, and the next day to Amarbayasgalant Monastery. As you will remember this was one of the three remaining Buddist monasteries left in Mongolia. We had hoped to hear the monks chanting but it turns out we arrived on the full moon, and they were having a full moon party or something. No, not like Thailand Katie. So no chanting monks. Boo.



So that night we camped just in a wild spot, our last night in the wilderness. We sat around having just finished tea when our guide disappeared off over the hill in the van taking the two drivers with him. Everyone was very cross about him disappearing. When he re-emerged, with another car. Confusion. He then strides up to me and gives me a note. I open it, tres confused, and it turns out to be a note I left under Coulson's pillow the morning I left London. Even more confused I stand up shouting "what?", and then of course, whose silohete should appear in the head lights but Mr Simon Coulson's. Of course, most of you know what happened next but for those of you who don't, he got down on one knee and proposed and I said "yes". Cheese Master Flash. He had hunted me down on the Mongolian Steppe, it doesn't really get more romantic does it? The only problem now is, in a fit of enthusiasm I rammed the very small ring (I think Simon got me confused with a midget or something, or at least had forgotten that his future wife has massive sausage fingers, thanks Mum) on to my finger (I desperately wanted it to fit), and now I really cannot get it off. It is wedged on, so any tips for how to get a sausage out of a ring, or vice versa, then let me know.

So the next morning I said goodbye to the group and headed off with Simon to Terelj National Park and a HOTEL, with a hot shower, massive bed and food other than mutton. Glorious. We spent the next 3 days horse trekking (mine was called Bad Boy, Simon's Mohake) across the park, visiting Gers, drinking arag and generally having a lovely time.

I left UB for China and Simon flew home. What can I say about Mongolia? It is massive, the people are lovely, the roads are a nightmare and arag is disgusting. As promised I am a different person now, and have to start planning a wedding.......

On the (sand) road

Back on the road we drove to Harhorin (the former Mongol capital) and the Endenezuu Monastery. A bit of background to the monasteries left after the Stalin purges in the early twentieth century. Out of a many hundred, only 3 Buddist monasteries were left. Stalin orderd the mass killing of all monks over 10 years of age and their families. So over one hundred thousand monks were slaugtered or sent to gulags in Siberia (remember at that time the total population of Mongolia would have been about 1 million), and just to be more gruesome the Russians ran out of bullets and so bludgeoned most of the monks to death. Lovely. If you ask Mongolians these days about Russians, instead of hating them which is what I thought would be pretty standard, most would say how they love them. They brought education, industry, trade, healthcare. Funny really. However, ask them about the Chinese and that is another matter entirely. I have never heard such vehement hatred for another race of people as from the Mongolians I talked to about the Chinese.



The Endenezuu Monastery is the oldest one left. Built in the 16th century it used to house many monks and have countless temples and houses. Now it has only a few surviving but they are beautiful.

I haven't really mentioned our Guide yet but he was probably the most useless guide that ever existed, so is not worth the time it would take to tell you how useless he actually was. He was supposed to guide us around the monastery but didn't. Needless to say I didn't tip him well and nor did anyone else.

The wildlife I saw consisted of brown legged eagles, suslik (ground squirrels), black vultures, buzzards, gazelles, weird flying crickets, locusts and marmots. All very exotic to me. The one thing I would say about the Mongolians I was with is that they clearly respected the environment and the animals in it, which was a great relief to me. We even spent one afternoon picking up litter with the drivers who were utterly disgusted with the rubbish left by the "city Mongolians" at the side of a river in a national park. It would be like seeing Snowdon covered in a foot of litter.





That night we stayed at Totaihar Chuluu, where it began to get cold. Near to the campsite there was a sacred rock which if you were capable enough to throw a rock over, it would grant you any wish you desired. Obviously being a girl I failed miserably, but then so did most of the Mongolians there. Sadly only the Aussie men were capable of such a huge feat of throwing, although if Pete had been there he would certainly have shown them a thing or two I'm sure.








Onwards and upwards, the next day we moved on to Chuluut Canyons where we stayed for 2 nights, hiked the canyon and surrounding areas. Quite impressive really both in the canyon and from above (if anyone can tell me why the stitching programme has added the bars - let me know!).

Lots and lots of goats surrounded us here and one rascal stole my knickers which I had washed for the first time since entering Mongolia - just the info you need eh? Enji did actually catch the thief for me, as seen here.











Then probably on to my favourite site, Horgo National Park and a volcano! Yay! Tres excitement for me but no one else, so I geeked it up for the Geologists. I even picked up some "rocks" and may be willing to pass these on to certain individuals for the appropriate price, of course.

Horgo also has the White Lake which we camped next to. I swam in it and it was cold, very cold but at around 8 degrees it was probably a bit too warm for Vanessa.  However, within about 10 minutes of me leaving the lake in 25 degree balmy weather, it began hailing and snowing and the temperature dropped to about, oh, 5 degrees. Cra-zi-ness. So I sat freezing in the bus for the remainder of the day. We did get quite bored and there were murmmurings of playing a game, so I suggested "Who's in the bag?". It was a disaster. Lesson learnt: Never play  games with Swiss people, surprisingly they don't like losing. Who'd have thought it? To take the attention away from the bus I perfomed an act of heroism wading in to the freezing lake to rescue our beer before it was washed away by the storm, forever. You can call me Emma "Hero" WIlloughby. Needless to say it was lovely and cold.
Next day there was snow all around but we trooped on and went for a small hike.

The drive away from the White Lake was epic - we had to traverse 2 mountain ranges covered in snow and swollen rivers, and the craziest bridge I have ever seen.
As you can see our bus got stuck on the way back to rescue the soviet van - the driver waded into the river and moved some rocks around, it worked and after about an hour we were on our way again.

We made it to our 2nd Ger camp at Zuun Nuur and relished the first hot shower and proper bed. Steph had been so cold throughout the entire camping trip, I left her to man the stove, I quickly came back when I saw flames licking the top of the Ger chimney. The inside was like an inferno, much to Steph's glee. Unfortunately Gers are not that well insulated and as Steph had used our nights supply of wood in about an hour, we froze once again for the remainder of the night.
I need to now take some time to talk about yaks. Very odd creatures, cross between a dog and a cow. When they get excited/cross they run with their tails in the air (very hairy tails mind you). You can ride them, and milk them. They look incredibly stupid but are really very nimble. We saw one chasing a dog, round and round and round we go. We kept driving and it was still chasing. Herro.

Mongolia - Arburd Sands, Zorgol Hairhan Uul, Buren Mountains

Hello there! I'm back and survived my epic Mongolian adventure but have come back a new woman.... really I have. This however, does not include, hair braiding, tats, children or further piercings. But I have changed nonetheless. All will be revealed later!

As before UB is an interesting place and I think I left you with a squity bum and a difficult choice between curry and green tea. I wisely opted for the green tea and met a crazy Mongolian artist lady, who freaked me out. We chatted about all things English including Hyacinth Bucket (her favourite English "TV star").

The day after this I arrived at the tour hotel. A hotel. A place which would not normally feel me with excitement, but after what felt like an eternity (1 month?) I was very excited to enter the very mediocre Zaluuchud Hotel in UB. As I was on a tour I was in a Twin room sharing with an unknown. After some confusion about keys, I managed to get in to the room to find the unknown was Stephanie (not Jon and Steph, Stephanie, a new Stephanie), sleeping with a very cute eye mask on. Having just flown in from London, with a big delay in Moscow (or Hell as I like to call it) she was k-nackered. A quick summary about Steph, a drama teacher in London, she's from Liverpool, a dedicated football fan, loves yaks, hates peas, and is about as lovely as you can get. We got on immediately, went to the massive Black Market (over 60,000 people visit it a day and it is thought to be Asia's biggest) and then watched a chinese vampire movie whilst waiting for our elusive tour guide to turn up. It was excellent and had Jackie Chan in it, a prize is available for anyone who guesses the name, Christian I think this one is in the bag for you....

So the guide does turn up and the rest of my fellow travellers also arrive. They all seemed like a good bunch of people, a mix of Swiss(5), German (1), English (3) and Australian (4). We went out that evening and I realised I had grown very accustomed to travelling on my own. It seemed this next part of my trip would be very different to the last.

We left the next morning and headed off to our first place Arburd Sands in a bus with wheels that a monster truck would envy. This was in the Gobi - I learnt that the Gobi itself isn't all sand,

there are massive areas of grassland and mountains.

We arrived and checked in to our Ger which was, surprisingly,

very well equipped.

I also got my first experience of the Mongolian horse - small (my feet nearly reached the floor) but incredibly quick when you get them into a trot, and how you do that is shout "choo" as aggressively and manishly as you can. Really only Mongolian men ride the horses (in a very odd style) and they were unconvinced of my ability even when I showed them what years of polite European schooling can do for you. Oh yes, I looked awesome. However I soon lost the politeness and slumped in the saddle just to fit in with everyone else.

In the afternoon we visited a nomad family who had hundreds of horses. They milked the mares to make all sorts of milk based products including arag (fermented milk - potentially the most rotten drink you will ever encounter), arag vodka, arag cheese, arag yoghurt, arag cream, milk tea - the list is really endless. 

The milking process is quite interesting - the men lead the foals to the mare and allow them to suckle for a few seconds, and then lead them away and the woman begins milking. If I was doing it I'd get dragged around by the foal but these guys were well practised. Later on in the trip I did try milking a mare but was absolutely useless at it - the men looked at me like I was a waste of a female and I felt sad. What have I been doing with my life if not learning to milk a mare?Mongolian horses are semi wild, and so even though you can ride them, you can't really get very close to them for petting purposes, which of course I was bitterly disappointed about. Same with most of the dogs, but they all looked quite dangerous anyway. They eat horses too, which is necessary I guess. Most families also have sheep and goats too, for cashmir and meat. They say that the last winter was so severe over 9 million livestock animals were lost due to the cold. This is out of a population of around 40 million animals in total. It's worth bearing in mind that the Mongolian population is only 2.7 million people......

The sky that evening was incredible, I saw the milky way and lots of shooting stars, and just to be cheesy I fell asleep looking through the hole in the roof of the Ger watching the stars. A nice way to start.

One thing to say about this trip is that we did a massive amount of driving, which was sometimes so unpleasant I wanted to scream. The roads are so bad, in fact there are no roads, there are dirt tracks. I saw maybe one or two tarmaced roads during my whole time, and on both of them I saw cyclists. On the dirt tracks I saw none. So just in case any of you are thinking of cycling in Mongolia (heaven forbid) or if you happen to know anyone planning to cycle there, prepare yourself for a very difficult journey.

Next day we headed off to Zorgol Hairhan Uul and Baga Gazriin Chuluu to see a collection of sacred pectographs of SIberian Ibex and red deer, and some sacred mountains and crazy rock formations (geologists you're back in it). We stopped to look for Ibex but it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. 

This would be our first night camping and it was quite a spot too. If you're wondering about the weather, it was unusual. If you imagine English weather can be changeable, multiply that by approximately a million and you get an idea of the changeable nature of the Mongolian climate. Before I left I looked on the BBC website for the weather in UB and it was just a random selection of weather pictures, rain, sun, cloud, fog and snow all in half a day. I thought oh that's just the crappy BBC forecast but actually that just about sums it up. Baking hot one minute, pissing it down with high wind 30 seconds later.

The Buren mountains were our next stop and our first truely windy night.... the clouds were awesome, and the sunset made for a (or maybe a few) pretty spectacular token photograph(s). Random boulders dotted throughout the landscape allowed me to mistakenly try some bouldering. Bad sandstone plus bouldering equals Emma falling off the boulder which further equals a sad Emma. This was the beginning of the Steppe and what can only be described as an insanely massive landscape.

I also had my first shower behind a rock with a view to beat all others, however it was a cold shower and so began my love affair with cold water. Plus if you are wondering about what we ate, well I wish I could tell you that we starved but alas the Russian-diet-and-squity-bum-episode was quickly superseded by the Mongolian-eat-your-own-weight-in-meat diet, and sadly so ended my weight loss. The food was awesome but imagine 3 meals a day combined with sitting in a bus for most of the day, I could visibily see my ass expanding.