From Here to There by Jon Faine

Author:Jon Faine [Faine, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781743097076
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-09-15T05:00:00+00:00

21 | Yurts, Yaks, Yoghurt and Yucky Food

Can it get any more remote? Explore the Altai Mountains, drive for ten hours, climb 3000 metres, traverse 280 kilometres of dirt and mud road, encounter just two cars and one truck – crashed and on its side – the only other vehicles seen all day.

I will not pretend that I am enjoying Mongolia. It is a great disappointment. Images of wild open plains, friendly shepherds, welcoming yurts and exotic traditions have not measured up. Instead these are tough people from a tough environment, surviving on next to nothing with next to nothing. I cannot eat most of the food and cannot find a point of entry or engagement with the people. For months moving throughout Southeast Asia and across China, everywhere we have been, some connection has been possible. Shared values, mutual respect, etiquette, manners, familiarity with culture – all that seems missing in Mongolia.

It is the wrong season, and the weather makes it harder. The facilities that nourish tourists are closed, the streets devoid of activity, the countryside forbidding. The guidebooks say that there is a flourishing wilderness tourism industry growing throughout remote corners of Mongolia, but we do not find it. Perhaps it is geared to package tours, groups in particular, or maybe we are just blind or not making enough effort, or are we too far off the beaten track.

Driving through Mongolia is not made easier by the bizarre practice of giving places in different provinces identical names, and spelling place names differently from region to region. There are multiple towns with the same name, sometimes even near each other, but in different government regions. Asking for directions from a shepherd or a nomad becomes comical when they point in two directions at once as you ask for ‘Altai’, trying to clarify in Mongolian whether you want Altai in Govi or Altai in Hovd. Hovd will be spelled ‘Khovd’ on some maps and so on. Locals no doubt have no difficulty with this system, as they can resolve ambiguity easily. We could not. Pride demanded we try to get through without a guide, and we were exultant after China to be guideless, but with hindsight it would have made much more sense and transformed our experience completely. Another mistake.

Crossing the tundra, there is nothing but snow as far as we can see. To the south and west, the mountains create a forbidding barrier. To the north and east there are flat rolling plains, white all the way to the horizon. We talk aimlessly about life back at home – what will Europe be like, what would Jan be having for dinner, where will Jack’s friends be going out to tonight, who was keen on which girl before which friend hooked up with her instead – all the big topics in the world.

Jack takes the wheel and a speck grows into a person as we slip and slide through the fields, eventually materialising as an elderly woman walking across the plain, tall stick in hand.

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