There are few countries where you can hear the flap of a bird’s wings as it soars overhead.
Or walk in a straight line until sunset without even seeing a fence.
Or walk in a straight line until sunset without even seeing a fence.
Mongolia. A country the size of mainland Europe, with a population of 1.5 million.
95% of who are nomads.
Just let that sink in for a second.
A few days into our 16-day tour of the countryside, we decided to go for a run. There was precious little in every direction. No borders, no fences.
Another time we walked toward a mountain and after 45 minutes, it never appeared closer. The subtle undulations of the land eventually made us panic that we’d lose our way, so we turned back. Even our tiny white tent camp was a mere sprinkle of salt on the sheer vastness of the grassy steppe.
Mongolia always makes it in the top when we’re asked about our favourite country visited. The sheer cultural richness of this land has captivated hearts and minds for centuries. Horses, nomads and endless space. A night sky in the Gobi Desert so close you can touch it. This isn’t a glossy marketing magazine. It’s real Mongolia.
Present-day Mongolia may no longer lay claim to ‘The Biggest Empire in History’, but Chingghis Khan (that’d be Genghis to you and me) carries a tremendous pride in the psyche of Mongolian society. Some reports claim as many as 1 in 200 men alive today - worldwide - are directly descended from him. There’s no denying Mongolia’s role in shaping where humanity is today.
Sharing borders with Russia and China (and a ‘Stan or two and North Korea just a stone’s throw away, Mongolia’s culture is a melting pot, with regions just as diverse. So where to start with figuring out what to see? Read on to find out…
How to plan a trip around Mongolia
The main areas to see in Mongolia can generally be broken down into the North, Central and Gobi Areas. The West, where the Eagle Hunters are, requires a lot more time (flying there is probably a good option). We spent about 15 days in the countryside, made up of 7 days in the north, about 2 travelling through the centre, and 5 in the south (Gobi Desert). What takes up most time here is the travel. We would drive 6+ hours most days, spending afternoons and mornings at each destination.
So to answer the question, ‘how long do I need?’ consider some time in the capital Ulaanbaatar, the National Parks to the east (and the entire Central area that we only drove through) and you’ll quickly realise visiting Mongolia is a weeks-long destination.
Independent travel is possible, but a real sense of adventure is needed. The guys we met on motorbikes looked very weary. English is neither understood nor spoken, and services are very few and far between. If you’re reading this, you’ll probably be bundled into a 6-passenger Soviet-era van, with a driver and an English-speaking guide + chef. The reality is that this is a country you have to take a tour.
How much did we spend? How did we choose a tour? And how many times was Emma hugged by drunken middle-aged Mongolian men?
If this is what you want to know, skip to the practical information at the end.
So to answer the question, ‘how long do I need?’ consider some time in the capital Ulaanbaatar, the National Parks to the east (and the entire Central area that we only drove through) and you’ll quickly realise visiting Mongolia is a weeks-long destination.
Independent travel is possible, but a real sense of adventure is needed. The guys we met on motorbikes looked very weary. English is neither understood nor spoken, and services are very few and far between. If you’re reading this, you’ll probably be bundled into a 6-passenger Soviet-era van, with a driver and an English-speaking guide + chef. The reality is that this is a country you have to take a tour.
How much did we spend? How did we choose a tour? And how many times was Emma hugged by drunken middle-aged Mongolian men?
If this is what you want to know, skip to the practical information at the end.
the north
Day 1 of 15: from Ulaanbaatar to Amarbayasgalant monastery
After a quick intro to our guide, Dogi, and driver, Sergi, we piled into our army green Russian UAZ van and prepared ourselves for our first long day of driving. Not an hour in, the motor chugging and sputtering, Sergi pulls over for our first breakdown of the trip. This would be something we’d be getting used to. Thankfully he had some serious Macgyver skills which would get us through more than a few close calls.
Before long we left the tarmac and were bumping along dirt-coloured tire marks weaving across the landscape - the primary form of 'road' we would get to know very well. Unfortunately we arrived too late in the day to visit the Amarbayasgalant monastery (admit it - you didn’t even try to read that word).
Nevertheless, it was feeling pretty good to be out in the wide-open spaces of the characteristic green steppe that makes Mongolia so uniquely special. We weren’t more than 200km from the smoggy skies and grimy streets of Ulaanbaatar, but we already felt a world away.
Tonight would be our first night sleeping in a traditional Ger, with the fireplace in the middle and an array of single beds with thin mattresses and sagging springs lining the circumference. One glance at the threadbare blankets, and we were more thankful than ever to have our trusty down sleeping bags to snuggle into when the temperatures began to drop.
What we learned:
Ghenghis Khan (born 1162 as Temujin) is one of the most influential people in history. From dominating half the worlds surface area for two centuries to introducing gunpowder to the world (and some say ice-cream), over 50% of the world is said to be one of his descendants. Seen as a warlord in the west, he's a national hero in Mongolia and very highly revered, much like George Clooney, only with a better moustache.
Before long we left the tarmac and were bumping along dirt-coloured tire marks weaving across the landscape - the primary form of 'road' we would get to know very well. Unfortunately we arrived too late in the day to visit the Amarbayasgalant monastery (admit it - you didn’t even try to read that word).
Nevertheless, it was feeling pretty good to be out in the wide-open spaces of the characteristic green steppe that makes Mongolia so uniquely special. We weren’t more than 200km from the smoggy skies and grimy streets of Ulaanbaatar, but we already felt a world away.
Tonight would be our first night sleeping in a traditional Ger, with the fireplace in the middle and an array of single beds with thin mattresses and sagging springs lining the circumference. One glance at the threadbare blankets, and we were more thankful than ever to have our trusty down sleeping bags to snuggle into when the temperatures began to drop.
What we learned:
Ghenghis Khan (born 1162 as Temujin) is one of the most influential people in history. From dominating half the worlds surface area for two centuries to introducing gunpowder to the world (and some say ice-cream), over 50% of the world is said to be one of his descendants. Seen as a warlord in the west, he's a national hero in Mongolia and very highly revered, much like George Clooney, only with a better moustache.
Day 2 of 15: from Amarbayasgalant monastery to Uran Togoo & Tulga
Up early for our first sunrise over the frosty fields, we climbed up a nearby hill to catch the rays of light creeping across the glowing green paddocks and were amazed at how vibrant the colours were, and how quiet it was. There are no actual roads leading here, just a network of crisscrossing dirt tracks. There is no hum of traffic in the distance, no chatter drifting from nearby houses. The only sound we hear is the flapping of a crow's wings as it passes overhead.
Like most Westerners, we thought we knew a little about Buddhism, but this is barely the tip of the iceberg. The Mongolian national religion is far more complex - and traditional - than we realised. We learned of the four colours, and before long our heads were soon spinning trying to make sense of the variety of deities, which way we should walk through temples, and whom we should and shouldn’t be sending our prayers to.
Back on the long, slow bumpy 'road', we kept heading north and broke up the trip by staying at a small 'tourist camp' with small cabins (no gers tonight) so we pull in and make ourselves comfy while a cold drizzle begins to set in outside.
While Dogi is preparing our dinner, we head off for some exploring. We spy a perfectly shaped hill in the distance, that looks like a sturdy 10-minute walk, just enough time to be back before dinner.
So we walk. And walk and walk. And it starts to get darker. And we’re still walking. And this damn hill just isn’t getting any closer. We realise the landscape is so vast that our perception of distance is hugely distorted. We keep walking and walking... nervous jokes getting unfunnier with every passing minute. Emma recounts that the only time she’s experienced something similar was when she was 5 years old, and travelling around central Australia with her family. She told her mum she was “just going to lean on ‘the rock” (Uluru), while lunch was being prepared. The rest of the family laughed and said she’d be walking for a long time; the large red rock was miles in the distance. I guess the huge landscapes in Mongolia reduce us all to the size of five year olds.
We finally decide we’re never going to make it, and our hungry bellies turn us back towards camp where Dogi is cooking up a storm, and just as we near the cabins a huge rainbow lights up the dark skies in a perfect arc above our home for the night. Perhaps this is where inspirational quotes come from - that pot of gold was right back where we started...
What we learned:
Officially, Mongolia adopted the yellow branch of Buddhism, called Lamaism sometime in the 7th Century and it's seen as one of the purest versions of Buddhism. There has been a recent resurgence of animism/shamanism however. Even part of the flag in the middle (called the Soyombo) represents fire, sun, defeat of enemies, justice of the Mongolian people, mutual complementation of men and women and the walls of a fort.
Like most Westerners, we thought we knew a little about Buddhism, but this is barely the tip of the iceberg. The Mongolian national religion is far more complex - and traditional - than we realised. We learned of the four colours, and before long our heads were soon spinning trying to make sense of the variety of deities, which way we should walk through temples, and whom we should and shouldn’t be sending our prayers to.
Back on the long, slow bumpy 'road', we kept heading north and broke up the trip by staying at a small 'tourist camp' with small cabins (no gers tonight) so we pull in and make ourselves comfy while a cold drizzle begins to set in outside.
While Dogi is preparing our dinner, we head off for some exploring. We spy a perfectly shaped hill in the distance, that looks like a sturdy 10-minute walk, just enough time to be back before dinner.
So we walk. And walk and walk. And it starts to get darker. And we’re still walking. And this damn hill just isn’t getting any closer. We realise the landscape is so vast that our perception of distance is hugely distorted. We keep walking and walking... nervous jokes getting unfunnier with every passing minute. Emma recounts that the only time she’s experienced something similar was when she was 5 years old, and travelling around central Australia with her family. She told her mum she was “just going to lean on ‘the rock” (Uluru), while lunch was being prepared. The rest of the family laughed and said she’d be walking for a long time; the large red rock was miles in the distance. I guess the huge landscapes in Mongolia reduce us all to the size of five year olds.
We finally decide we’re never going to make it, and our hungry bellies turn us back towards camp where Dogi is cooking up a storm, and just as we near the cabins a huge rainbow lights up the dark skies in a perfect arc above our home for the night. Perhaps this is where inspirational quotes come from - that pot of gold was right back where we started...
What we learned:
Officially, Mongolia adopted the yellow branch of Buddhism, called Lamaism sometime in the 7th Century and it's seen as one of the purest versions of Buddhism. There has been a recent resurgence of animism/shamanism however. Even part of the flag in the middle (called the Soyombo) represents fire, sun, defeat of enemies, justice of the Mongolian people, mutual complementation of men and women and the walls of a fort.
Day 3 of 15: from Uran Togoo & Tulga to Murun
From the safety of our snug little sleeping bags, we started getting concerned about how cold it was going to be up North. The ger's themselves stay super cosy and warm at night, with the fire smouldering away, but outside, the land was covered in frost. The land may be beautiful, but life here is undoubtedly harsh.
Our first stop was Murun (pronounced Moron) and would be the last sizeable town for a long while. We explored the local market, stocking up on supplies and warm clothes, and Emma bought the pièce de résistance item that would be the source of conversation for weeks: a 100% pure wool bright blue cowboy hat. Locals would brave the language barrier and shriek their delights - a good excuse to talk to the exotic beauty.
Murun itself is a fairly ramshackle looking town, with dirt roads, timber fences and slatted wooden houses with brightly colours roofs, almost identical to what we found in Siberia. But towns like these are the exception to how vast amounts of Mongolians still live today.
Traditionally, the Mongolian people have always been nomadic and the around 40% still are today. It's a tough life, and the effects of climate change and overgrazing have made it increasingly more difficult for families to make a living off the land in traditional ways. So little towns like this have popped up. Its ironic that the nomadic families look at the townsfolk with a hint of jealousy for the ‘good life’ whist the town dwellers are so nostalgic for their old life that some still live in their gers.
There might be something to be said for the simplicity of the nomadic life, but even so we all made sure to take advantage of the hot showers on offer in the evening. It would be our last opportunity for quite a while.
What we learned:
Mongolia makes a lot of cashmere: 20% of the worlds market and growing. But this is a problem, as more and more farmers switch to profitable goats, the land suffers as it doesn't get the balance of animals.
Our first stop was Murun (pronounced Moron) and would be the last sizeable town for a long while. We explored the local market, stocking up on supplies and warm clothes, and Emma bought the pièce de résistance item that would be the source of conversation for weeks: a 100% pure wool bright blue cowboy hat. Locals would brave the language barrier and shriek their delights - a good excuse to talk to the exotic beauty.
Murun itself is a fairly ramshackle looking town, with dirt roads, timber fences and slatted wooden houses with brightly colours roofs, almost identical to what we found in Siberia. But towns like these are the exception to how vast amounts of Mongolians still live today.
Traditionally, the Mongolian people have always been nomadic and the around 40% still are today. It's a tough life, and the effects of climate change and overgrazing have made it increasingly more difficult for families to make a living off the land in traditional ways. So little towns like this have popped up. Its ironic that the nomadic families look at the townsfolk with a hint of jealousy for the ‘good life’ whist the town dwellers are so nostalgic for their old life that some still live in their gers.
There might be something to be said for the simplicity of the nomadic life, but even so we all made sure to take advantage of the hot showers on offer in the evening. It would be our last opportunity for quite a while.
What we learned:
Mongolia makes a lot of cashmere: 20% of the worlds market and growing. But this is a problem, as more and more farmers switch to profitable goats, the land suffers as it doesn't get the balance of animals.
Day 4 of 15: from Murun to khövsgöl Lake
After four days of driving, we finally reached our destination in the north at Khövsgöl Lake. A paved road may have had us here in a day or two, but not many vans other than our Russian UAZ could even do 60km/hr on this landscape (and make it back to tell the tale). Patience is one thing that will serve you well in Mongolia.
Pulling up in the early afternoon, we decided to do the usual. Pick a direction and walk. The absence of fences, or ownership of land is Mongolia is totally liberating. No one is going to tell you that you can’t walk there because no one owns the land. If a family want to graze their animals there, they are completely free to do so.
After picking a hill and climbing to the top, we decided a bit of cross-country running was the way to get back. We took off, sprinting across the fields to make sure we wouldn’t be late for dinner.
What we learned:
Chocolate is not what it seems in Mongolia. We bought all kinds, with the worst forming clay-like clumps in our mouths. But the goats don't seem to mind it...
Pulling up in the early afternoon, we decided to do the usual. Pick a direction and walk. The absence of fences, or ownership of land is Mongolia is totally liberating. No one is going to tell you that you can’t walk there because no one owns the land. If a family want to graze their animals there, they are completely free to do so.
After picking a hill and climbing to the top, we decided a bit of cross-country running was the way to get back. We took off, sprinting across the fields to make sure we wouldn’t be late for dinner.
What we learned:
Chocolate is not what it seems in Mongolia. We bought all kinds, with the worst forming clay-like clumps in our mouths. But the goats don't seem to mind it...
Day 5 of 15: KHÖVSGÖL Lake, further north
Today we did the thing everyone dreams about when they think of Mongolia; riding frisky horses across the wide-open steppe.
But don't be fooled: Mongolian horses are not normal horses. They're much smaller and athletic-looking than others, and we came to greatly respect and appreciate how important the Horse is to the Mongolian way of life. And riding them is... a little more intense than riding horses in other countries.
Emma's horse was a natural leader, and would stubbornly push aside any attempts to get past her, but Pete's horse was a little underwhelming. It seemed more interested in finding delicious patches of grass, rather than trotting, cantering or even galloping.
So after a few hours of lingering at the tail end of the group, Pete decided he’d had enough. He hadn't come all the way to the Land of the Horse to sit on an old lazy mare.
"You take it at your own risk...", says Dogi, offering to switch horses.
It was an ominous warning that Pete wasn't quite prepared for. Little did Pete know, this was an ex-racehorse!
The pair instantly connected, and off they were! Mongolian horses don’t typically get named, but we decided this one had to be Sprocket Rocket. Feisty and, quite frankly, crazy, it took barely a tap to get Sprocket galloping at a moments notice.
And did we mention that Mongolian horses aren't trained to slow down to any word?
For the rest of the afternoon Pete and Sprocket tested each other’s limits, until Sprocket decided it was time to let Pete know who was boss. With a sharp unexpected curve to the left, Sprocket threw Pete from the saddle and galloped away from the scene with not even a glance back. Emma witness the whole scene from only meters behind, and was amazed (and relieved) to see Pete fall, commando roll, and land on his feet standing dazed, confused and horseless, and miraculously unharmed.
What we learned:
Mongolian native horses are called 'takhi', the Mongol word for 'spirit'. They have have 66 chromosomes, which is two more than the average horse. They are the last truly wild horses left on the planet.
But don't be fooled: Mongolian horses are not normal horses. They're much smaller and athletic-looking than others, and we came to greatly respect and appreciate how important the Horse is to the Mongolian way of life. And riding them is... a little more intense than riding horses in other countries.
Emma's horse was a natural leader, and would stubbornly push aside any attempts to get past her, but Pete's horse was a little underwhelming. It seemed more interested in finding delicious patches of grass, rather than trotting, cantering or even galloping.
So after a few hours of lingering at the tail end of the group, Pete decided he’d had enough. He hadn't come all the way to the Land of the Horse to sit on an old lazy mare.
"You take it at your own risk...", says Dogi, offering to switch horses.
It was an ominous warning that Pete wasn't quite prepared for. Little did Pete know, this was an ex-racehorse!
The pair instantly connected, and off they were! Mongolian horses don’t typically get named, but we decided this one had to be Sprocket Rocket. Feisty and, quite frankly, crazy, it took barely a tap to get Sprocket galloping at a moments notice.
And did we mention that Mongolian horses aren't trained to slow down to any word?
For the rest of the afternoon Pete and Sprocket tested each other’s limits, until Sprocket decided it was time to let Pete know who was boss. With a sharp unexpected curve to the left, Sprocket threw Pete from the saddle and galloped away from the scene with not even a glance back. Emma witness the whole scene from only meters behind, and was amazed (and relieved) to see Pete fall, commando roll, and land on his feet standing dazed, confused and horseless, and miraculously unharmed.
What we learned:
Mongolian native horses are called 'takhi', the Mongol word for 'spirit'. They have have 66 chromosomes, which is two more than the average horse. They are the last truly wild horses left on the planet.
DAY 6 OF 15: KHÖVSGÖL LAKE
With a fire burned down by the early hours, getting out of the sleeping bag is hard work, but when first light starts creeping trough the cracks of the door you've just got to get up and see what's waiting outside.
This morning was one of our favourites. Walking out across the dewy grass fields, the sky was starting to light up with a sliver of intense magenta just above the horizon. By the time we had reached the edges of the lake and rock hopped through the shallows, the sky was a bright pink reflecting in the water surrounding us, and it felt like we were walking on the clouds.
With sore buttocks from yesterday's ride, we took our horses a small way up a hill and hiked the rest of the way above the tree-line to the top of the bald, gravelly mountain, taking in the spectacular views over the lake. We even had a stray dog join us for a bit of canine company.
Our afternoon was spent building a ger - we never really figured out why. It seemed that the locals saw our extra hands and decided we should be put to good use. But we were happy to have another day out of the van and enjoying the beautiful fresh air of the North.
What we learned:
There are 13 times more horses than humans in Mongolia.
This morning was one of our favourites. Walking out across the dewy grass fields, the sky was starting to light up with a sliver of intense magenta just above the horizon. By the time we had reached the edges of the lake and rock hopped through the shallows, the sky was a bright pink reflecting in the water surrounding us, and it felt like we were walking on the clouds.
With sore buttocks from yesterday's ride, we took our horses a small way up a hill and hiked the rest of the way above the tree-line to the top of the bald, gravelly mountain, taking in the spectacular views over the lake. We even had a stray dog join us for a bit of canine company.
Our afternoon was spent building a ger - we never really figured out why. It seemed that the locals saw our extra hands and decided we should be put to good use. But we were happy to have another day out of the van and enjoying the beautiful fresh air of the North.
What we learned:
There are 13 times more horses than humans in Mongolia.
Day 7 of 15: KHÖVSGÖL Lake
Mongolian Barbecue.
It's a mouth-watering word combination. Unless you're vegetarian, and in that case, you'll find eating in Mongolia to be very challenging.
Meat is a hugely important part of the local diet, and everyone gets pretty excited when it's time to barbecue. Strangely - just don't expect it to be succulent and juicy. This is a practical experience. Let us explain.
The first step is to gather a bunch of large, smooth round rocks. Then make a big fire, and heat the rocks in a big pot. Once the rocks are nice and hot, add the meat, put on a lid and wait.
When the meat is cooked, the rocks are pulled out and cooled until warm enough to handle. Then you take them in your hands to warm them up and prepare your belly for the eating (and to aid digestion). With hands all meaty and smells lingering in the air, it's not long before it's feasting time!
The tradition that follows the barbecue is wrestling. Once Mongolian man eats meat, Mongolian man must wrestle! Poor Pete looked a little shocked when he got up to make a bathroom visit, only to be tacked to the ground by the towering Sergi, determined that tradition must be followed. Despite eating a succulent piece of lamb only moments before (and being unsure of the rules) Pete put on a good show, but, really, he didn't stand a chance.
It’s a hard week when not only do you have an Mongolian ex-racehorse trying to take you down, but a giant Mongolian man too.
We finished up with a brave dip in the icy waters of the lake. With the surprisingly warm days, the clear water seemed enticing seeing no one had showered in a few days. Pete’s watch measures the water temperature at a balmy 12 degrees, so needless to say it was a brief yet refreshing dip, but with no showers around at least we were clean!
What we learned:
On September 17, 2011, 6,002 wrestlers participated in the Mongolian National Wrestling Match. It was the largest wrestling competition in the world, according to the Guinness World Records. That's a lot of grunting.
It's a mouth-watering word combination. Unless you're vegetarian, and in that case, you'll find eating in Mongolia to be very challenging.
Meat is a hugely important part of the local diet, and everyone gets pretty excited when it's time to barbecue. Strangely - just don't expect it to be succulent and juicy. This is a practical experience. Let us explain.
The first step is to gather a bunch of large, smooth round rocks. Then make a big fire, and heat the rocks in a big pot. Once the rocks are nice and hot, add the meat, put on a lid and wait.
When the meat is cooked, the rocks are pulled out and cooled until warm enough to handle. Then you take them in your hands to warm them up and prepare your belly for the eating (and to aid digestion). With hands all meaty and smells lingering in the air, it's not long before it's feasting time!
The tradition that follows the barbecue is wrestling. Once Mongolian man eats meat, Mongolian man must wrestle! Poor Pete looked a little shocked when he got up to make a bathroom visit, only to be tacked to the ground by the towering Sergi, determined that tradition must be followed. Despite eating a succulent piece of lamb only moments before (and being unsure of the rules) Pete put on a good show, but, really, he didn't stand a chance.
It’s a hard week when not only do you have an Mongolian ex-racehorse trying to take you down, but a giant Mongolian man too.
We finished up with a brave dip in the icy waters of the lake. With the surprisingly warm days, the clear water seemed enticing seeing no one had showered in a few days. Pete’s watch measures the water temperature at a balmy 12 degrees, so needless to say it was a brief yet refreshing dip, but with no showers around at least we were clean!
What we learned:
On September 17, 2011, 6,002 wrestlers participated in the Mongolian National Wrestling Match. It was the largest wrestling competition in the world, according to the Guinness World Records. That's a lot of grunting.
central mongolia
Day 8 of 15: KHÖVSGÖL Lake to somewhere south of Rashaant
Our route from the North to the Gobi, was bypassing more of the regular stops through Central Mongolia. So farewell any semblance of a road - we made new tracks through grassy pastures as our guides sensed their way, navigating by heading in general directions and asking nomad families for directions when they inevitably got lost.
But this is a changing land, and with every season, rivers overflow and change direction. Crossing in one area may get you stuck further along.
Apparently the art of interpreting directions from locals requires some special skills. A particular tilt of the head or flick on the wrist in the wrong direction could indicate a completely contradictory meaning to what one could assume they were saying. So while Sergi would chat away to them, Dogi would always be intently watching the body language to catch any of the subtle clues.
And forget about GPS routes - this is where local knowledge is king.
A few hours in to the drive, we came across a truck, stuck in a ditch. It was a nomadic family who were moving their entire possessions to another patch of land, somewhere beyond some unnamed hills. They were incredibly thankful to have us turn up, and no no doubt Sergi was immensely proud to tow them out with a few heaves and pushes.
Towards the end of the day, Sergi pulled over at a family's ger to ask for directions once again, and came back with the offer of a place to stay for the night. The family only had two gers on their property, but they were more than happy to clear out the kids one so we could sleep there The father even galloped off on his horse towards the distant horizon in search of fermented mare's milk for us to try (but we weren't that disappointed when he returned empty handed).
It would be easy to assume that nomadic Mongolian families living way out here are totally devoid of technology and communication, so we were quite surprised when we sat down around the central wood fire to see a TV flickering away in the background. Hooked up to a portable satellite, they powered it with a car battery, which they just recharged by driving it around for a while whenever it got low!
What we learned:
You don’t need four sides (or a roof for that matter) to a toilet in Mongolia, one ‘wall’ and a hole in the ground is more than enough to hide you from any peering eyes.
But this is a changing land, and with every season, rivers overflow and change direction. Crossing in one area may get you stuck further along.
Apparently the art of interpreting directions from locals requires some special skills. A particular tilt of the head or flick on the wrist in the wrong direction could indicate a completely contradictory meaning to what one could assume they were saying. So while Sergi would chat away to them, Dogi would always be intently watching the body language to catch any of the subtle clues.
And forget about GPS routes - this is where local knowledge is king.
A few hours in to the drive, we came across a truck, stuck in a ditch. It was a nomadic family who were moving their entire possessions to another patch of land, somewhere beyond some unnamed hills. They were incredibly thankful to have us turn up, and no no doubt Sergi was immensely proud to tow them out with a few heaves and pushes.
Towards the end of the day, Sergi pulled over at a family's ger to ask for directions once again, and came back with the offer of a place to stay for the night. The family only had two gers on their property, but they were more than happy to clear out the kids one so we could sleep there The father even galloped off on his horse towards the distant horizon in search of fermented mare's milk for us to try (but we weren't that disappointed when he returned empty handed).
It would be easy to assume that nomadic Mongolian families living way out here are totally devoid of technology and communication, so we were quite surprised when we sat down around the central wood fire to see a TV flickering away in the background. Hooked up to a portable satellite, they powered it with a car battery, which they just recharged by driving it around for a while whenever it got low!
What we learned:
You don’t need four sides (or a roof for that matter) to a toilet in Mongolia, one ‘wall’ and a hole in the ground is more than enough to hide you from any peering eyes.
Day 9 of 15: Somewhere south of Rashaant to Kharkhorin (Former Capital)
The landscape is finally changing, with the green rolling hills giving way to drier, flatter terrain, and we feel like we are getting closer to the Gobi. At a pit stop we spy our first herd of Bactrian camels gathering around a water hole.
By the time we arrive at our destination, the Ongiin Khiid Monastery, it's closed for the day, so we visit the local Museum instead. It has the most incredible model of the ancient city, and despite the terribly grumpy guide showing us around, we learn a lot about the fascinating history of Mongolia.
What we learned:
The Bactrian camel is Mongolia’s native camel. It has two humps and it’s much rarer than its one-humped cousin.
By the time we arrive at our destination, the Ongiin Khiid Monastery, it's closed for the day, so we visit the local Museum instead. It has the most incredible model of the ancient city, and despite the terribly grumpy guide showing us around, we learn a lot about the fascinating history of Mongolia.
What we learned:
The Bactrian camel is Mongolia’s native camel. It has two humps and it’s much rarer than its one-humped cousin.
the gobi desert
Day 10 of 15: Kharkhorin Rock monastery to Flaming Cliffs (Bayanzag)
First stop is a visit to the Ongiin Khiid Monastery, which is collection of crumbling small huts in a crumbling landscape. It was once however, one of the largest monasteries in Mongolia. It’s hard to imagine that here once stood 11 temples and 4 Buddhist universities.
Over 200 monks were killed here when the monastery was destroyed in 1939 under Khorloogiin Choibalsan, the president and leader of the Communist Party of Mongolia. There is a well that has special powers if you drink from it, so we take a sip, thankful that our stomaches are well hardened after months of being on the road, and bundle back into the van.
A few more hours drive south and we really feel like we’re definitely in the Gobi now. We’re entirely surrounded by sandy horizons, and the only plants surviving out here are small drought tolerant grasses and scruffy shrubs. We arrive at camp in the mid afternoon, and the wind is howling, making it difficult to stand outside for any length of time. Visiting the open-air toilet is even more of a challenge.
With a few hours to go until sunset, we decide to hike for an hour through the ethereal landscape to a nearby hill. Naturally, a little dog joins us, and we laugh as his little legs scamper around - he seems to enjoy the wind. At the top of the hill, he looked particularly majestic, long hair blowing in the wind, while we were scrambling around, trying not to get blown straight off.
We soon headed off to the magical sounding Flaming Cliffs. Massive fingers of eroded landscapes forming sheer cliffs to the flat plateau below made for a wonderful exploration. They are famous for being the place of the first discoveries of dinosaur eggs, and home of the Velociraptor.
The red earth only gets redder as the sun sinks and from high up on the edge of the cliffs all we can see is ribbons of dry rivers entangling themselves far below. It’s a pretty spectacular sight, and we’re marvelling once again at having this incredible place all to ourselves, with no fences to tell us where to go, no pathways, no handrails or barriers, it's ours to explore as we want.
What we learned:
It's Mongolian tradition that hats should always be placed with the open end down. A man's hat and belt should never be placed on the floor, and should not touch other hats or belts.
Over 200 monks were killed here when the monastery was destroyed in 1939 under Khorloogiin Choibalsan, the president and leader of the Communist Party of Mongolia. There is a well that has special powers if you drink from it, so we take a sip, thankful that our stomaches are well hardened after months of being on the road, and bundle back into the van.
A few more hours drive south and we really feel like we’re definitely in the Gobi now. We’re entirely surrounded by sandy horizons, and the only plants surviving out here are small drought tolerant grasses and scruffy shrubs. We arrive at camp in the mid afternoon, and the wind is howling, making it difficult to stand outside for any length of time. Visiting the open-air toilet is even more of a challenge.
With a few hours to go until sunset, we decide to hike for an hour through the ethereal landscape to a nearby hill. Naturally, a little dog joins us, and we laugh as his little legs scamper around - he seems to enjoy the wind. At the top of the hill, he looked particularly majestic, long hair blowing in the wind, while we were scrambling around, trying not to get blown straight off.
We soon headed off to the magical sounding Flaming Cliffs. Massive fingers of eroded landscapes forming sheer cliffs to the flat plateau below made for a wonderful exploration. They are famous for being the place of the first discoveries of dinosaur eggs, and home of the Velociraptor.
The red earth only gets redder as the sun sinks and from high up on the edge of the cliffs all we can see is ribbons of dry rivers entangling themselves far below. It’s a pretty spectacular sight, and we’re marvelling once again at having this incredible place all to ourselves, with no fences to tell us where to go, no pathways, no handrails or barriers, it's ours to explore as we want.
What we learned:
It's Mongolian tradition that hats should always be placed with the open end down. A man's hat and belt should never be placed on the floor, and should not touch other hats or belts.
Day 11 of 15: Flaming Cliffs to Khongor Dunes (Khongoryn Els)
We spend most of the day driving through the Singing Sands - hundreds of kilometers of subtly changing colours, to make it to our next camp - the Khongor Dunes.
Before we can make the sunset climb up the dunes, we’re all off for an obligatory Bactrian camel ride. We’ve never actually seen two humped camels before, and we're taken aback by how big, smelly and hairy they are. Our guide ties them all together before we jump on, and head off into the desert for our slow and bumpy ride. To be honest, horses are much more fun, although they slightly higher perspective gives you a nice view over the landscape.
The Khongor Dunes are a highlight of everyone's trip to Mongolia. They rise from the desert to a height of about 300m, and make for a pretty gruelling climb to the top. We set off with around an hour till sunset, and reached the top 45 minutes later. Soft sand running has nothing on this. With each step our feet sink into the fine sand, and we’re climbing at an angle of about 45 degrees. Two steps forward, one slide back.
Hot and sweaty we reach the top and it’s magical. Endless pristine waves of sand roll out before us, turning more and more golden by the second with the setting sun. It's postcard perfection. And as the darkness settles in, we run back down taking huge strides, avalanches of sand falling all around us, descending 300m's in a few minutes.
What we learned:
The word “Gobi” refers to a kind of desert steppe, with just enough vegetation to support camels. The only truly sandy part is the stretch at Khongoryn Els.
Before we can make the sunset climb up the dunes, we’re all off for an obligatory Bactrian camel ride. We’ve never actually seen two humped camels before, and we're taken aback by how big, smelly and hairy they are. Our guide ties them all together before we jump on, and head off into the desert for our slow and bumpy ride. To be honest, horses are much more fun, although they slightly higher perspective gives you a nice view over the landscape.
The Khongor Dunes are a highlight of everyone's trip to Mongolia. They rise from the desert to a height of about 300m, and make for a pretty gruelling climb to the top. We set off with around an hour till sunset, and reached the top 45 minutes later. Soft sand running has nothing on this. With each step our feet sink into the fine sand, and we’re climbing at an angle of about 45 degrees. Two steps forward, one slide back.
Hot and sweaty we reach the top and it’s magical. Endless pristine waves of sand roll out before us, turning more and more golden by the second with the setting sun. It's postcard perfection. And as the darkness settles in, we run back down taking huge strides, avalanches of sand falling all around us, descending 300m's in a few minutes.
What we learned:
The word “Gobi” refers to a kind of desert steppe, with just enough vegetation to support camels. The only truly sandy part is the stretch at Khongoryn Els.
Day 12 of 15: Khongor Dunes to Yolyn Am (Lammergeier Valley)
We’re heading east now, and once we get away from the dunes we feel as though we’re quickly leaving the Gobi. We’re off to Yolyn Am Canyon, a deep and narrow gorge also known as the Valley of the Vulture. On some days you can be lucky to see the huge birds circling through the wind currents of the gorge, but unfortunately we don’t find any.
We do see Daurian pikas at every turn though. They look like a large hamster, but are more closely related to the rabbit. Apparently they do like to share their burrows with hamsters sometimes though.
What we learned:
Nadaam festival is Mongolia's biggest sporting festival, held annually around the country. We just missed it, and also missed out on the biggest upset in the history of the festival - a 13 year old girl winning the Eagle Hunting competition. They've now made a movie about her called The Eagle Huntress.
We do see Daurian pikas at every turn though. They look like a large hamster, but are more closely related to the rabbit. Apparently they do like to share their burrows with hamsters sometimes though.
What we learned:
Nadaam festival is Mongolia's biggest sporting festival, held annually around the country. We just missed it, and also missed out on the biggest upset in the history of the festival - a 13 year old girl winning the Eagle Hunting competition. They've now made a movie about her called The Eagle Huntress.
Day 13 of 15: Yolyn Am to White Stupa (Tsagaan Suvraga)
The White Stupa was possibly one of the most spectacular sights we visited on the trip, but if you’re visiting make sure to be there for sunrise, not sunset. We were given the choice, and while we were all amazed when we turned up for sunset, we were bitterly disappointed as the sun sets on the opposite side. Similar to the Flaming Cliffs, it’s a vast network of eroded patterns falling away from where you stand on the cliffs above.
We did make it back for sunrise too though, after pleading with Dogi and our reluctant driver to take us back, we were lucky enough to see the cliffs first thing in the morning, and it was definitely worth the early morning start.
What we learned:
Mongolia is home to the oldest national park (Bogd Khan NP), founded in 1778. Eat that, Yellowstone, USA!
We did make it back for sunrise too though, after pleading with Dogi and our reluctant driver to take us back, we were lucky enough to see the cliffs first thing in the morning, and it was definitely worth the early morning start.
What we learned:
Mongolia is home to the oldest national park (Bogd Khan NP), founded in 1778. Eat that, Yellowstone, USA!
Day 14 of 15: White Stupa (Tsagaan Suvarga) to Baga gazriin chuluu
Baga Gazriin Chuluu was our last main stop on the tour. We’d already seen a lot of pretty amazing rocks in the last two weeks, so this stop wasn’t the most exciting. It’s basically a rocky landscape with a grove of beautiful golden poplars, planted by monks from a time when it was the Choir monastery.
We went for a walk, and then discovered that two members of our group had decided to wander off and get themselves lost, so we then spent the next two hours jumping boulders and calling out their names until they came back, oblivious to the fact that we were madly searching for them.
We also discovered a group of old Mongolian men who had headed out there for a thirty-year school reunion. They sat around getting drunk on their fermented mares milk (and stronger Vodka) and nodding approvingly at Emma’s blue hat, before making sure to get plenty of photos and sneaky cuddles from her. At least it was better than hunting for the lost ones.
What we learned:
There are a lot of do's and dont's when living in a ger. Here's a few;
We went for a walk, and then discovered that two members of our group had decided to wander off and get themselves lost, so we then spent the next two hours jumping boulders and calling out their names until they came back, oblivious to the fact that we were madly searching for them.
We also discovered a group of old Mongolian men who had headed out there for a thirty-year school reunion. They sat around getting drunk on their fermented mares milk (and stronger Vodka) and nodding approvingly at Emma’s blue hat, before making sure to get plenty of photos and sneaky cuddles from her. At least it was better than hunting for the lost ones.
What we learned:
There are a lot of do's and dont's when living in a ger. Here's a few;
- Fire is sacred. Never put water on, step on or put rubbish in a fire.
- Mongolians do not speak to each other across the threshold of the door, or stand on the threshold of the door.
- When you enter a ger, do not step on the threshold.
- Move in a clockwise direction when entering a ger, first to the west and then north (ger doors always face south).
- The east side of the ger (on your right as you enter) is normally where the family will sit and the west side (on your left as you enter) is for guests.
- Food and cooking implements are stored on the right side, or women’s side of the ger, saddles, bridles, and things associated with men’s work on the left or men’s side.
- Do not lean against the central supports of the ger, the walls, or the furniture.
- Do not whistle inside gers or any kind of building.
Day 15 of 15: from Baga gazriin chuluu to Ulaanbaatar
The long drive back! At some point you’ve just got to make up the miles and hit the roads again, and by now we were all really longing for that hot shower and a proper bed. We had a quick stop to finally sample our long promised fermented mares milk, and made sure to nod and smile politely when we tasted it so as not to offend. The locals love this stuff, it’s a staple that gets them through the long winters with not much else to sustain. We were served from a huge sack hanging from the wall, made from the lining of a sheep stomach. We were dished out a bowl to share, and really, it wasn’t that bad.
A few last hours in the bumpy van and we were pulling into the crowded grey streets of Ulaanbaatar, missing the open spaces already but oh so ready for a burger.
What we learned:
Nomads survive on a fairly basic diet, mainly protein, a few carbs and vegetables when they can get them. Throughout difficult times where there isn't much around, they eat almost only Aarull- a dried milk product that can be stored for months. It can be made from the milk of any of the animals they are keeping- sheep, goat, camel, horse, cow or yak. If Mongolians spill aarull, milk or other dairy products on the ground, they will dip their fingers into it and touch it lightly to their forehead.
A few last hours in the bumpy van and we were pulling into the crowded grey streets of Ulaanbaatar, missing the open spaces already but oh so ready for a burger.
What we learned:
Nomads survive on a fairly basic diet, mainly protein, a few carbs and vegetables when they can get them. Throughout difficult times where there isn't much around, they eat almost only Aarull- a dried milk product that can be stored for months. It can be made from the milk of any of the animals they are keeping- sheep, goat, camel, horse, cow or yak. If Mongolians spill aarull, milk or other dairy products on the ground, they will dip their fingers into it and touch it lightly to their forehead.
Practical information
How much did it cost?
Our 16-day tour cost us USD979 per person, or USD61 per day. Most places we looked at varied only slightly around this rate, but in the end you get what you pay for. This included everything - tours, food at restaurants, horse hire, accommodation, etc (We had a bit of extra cash if we wanted an ice-cream from a shop). You can mix and match a tour to design one that suits you, but the cost is mostly determined by how many people are in the van, so you’ll save if you can join forces with a few people. It’s a trade off between price and comfort. We had 6 in our group; others had less people and more space but would have been more expensive.
How did you choose a tour company?
We did quite a lot of research before arriving but ultimately narrowed it down to a few based on reviews. Khongor Expeditions were great, very professional and helpful. Dogi cooked amazing food (some guides don’t), and she was loads of fun to hang out with. It's the luck of the draw with guides (you won't get to choose) and they can make or break your trip. Khongor were also really helpful with organising train tickets and visas before arriving in the country, and even picked up our Chinese visa from the embassy while we were out on the tour. The accommodation they provide in Ulaanbaatar is extremely basic (probably our smallest room of the entire trip), but finding anything quality in UB will be challenging.
Is Mongolia safe?
You’ll read a lot of things about Ulaanbaatar being a really rough city and not the safest, but personally we didn’t have any trouble. With the usual common sense you’ll be fine, and as usual lock up any valuables and don’t carry much with you on the streets. Its by no means a pretty city, and probably not somewhere you want spend more than a few days. Check out our tips for what to see in UB here.
The rest of the country feels very safe, although there is a huge language barrier so without a guide or being able to speak Mongolian, things will be quite difficult. Generally, Mongolians are very welcoming and generous people, and many would willingly share their homes with a stranger if you ran into trouble.
The rest of the country feels very safe, although there is a huge language barrier so without a guide or being able to speak Mongolian, things will be quite difficult. Generally, Mongolians are very welcoming and generous people, and many would willingly share their homes with a stranger if you ran into trouble.
How did we find accommodation?
We pre-booked with Khongor Expeditions before arriving, and the rest of our accommodation was sleeping in gers or huts or with local families along the way, organised as part of the tour. Camping is theoretically possible anywhere.
How did we get in and out of Ulaanbaatar?
Mongolia was a stop over for us as part of our Trans Mongolian train journey. Click here to read about the first part through Russia.
We joined the train route again to get to Beijing, for another 24-hour journey. Flights in and out of Ulaanbaator are also easy to come by, but we recommend the train journey. It's the best way to be introduced to the vastness of the landscapes.
We joined the train route again to get to Beijing, for another 24-hour journey. Flights in and out of Ulaanbaator are also easy to come by, but we recommend the train journey. It's the best way to be introduced to the vastness of the landscapes.
How much time is enough to see Mongolia?
We had a month in total, but a week at the start was hanging around in UB waiting for our tour, and a few days at the end were spent washing our clothes and preparing for China. Our 16-day tour was definitely one of the longer ones, and the majority of people probably go for around 7-10 days, and just focus on the Central, North or Gobi Desert. Most tour companies will have a big range of trips to choose from, the hardest thing will be deciding what to see, as a lot of the places don’t come up on Google searches. Whatever you choose though, you’re pretty much guaranteed to have an amazing time.
What did we miss out on?
One of the things we were set on doing was visiting the reindeer herders, near Lake Khövsgöl, but unfortunately we arrived too late in the year. Only a week or so earlier had they moved further north from the lake, meaning the journey would have been several days of horse-riding to ‘maybe’ reach them. If this is something you think would be a top priority, we’d recommend contacting your chosen guide a few months before hand, as they will be able to contact the herders and make sure you can get up close and personal with reindeers and their herders!
The other highlight we’ll be saving for another trip is visiting the Eagle hunters in the far west, but again this is a big commitment. It’s about a weeks drive to get there (or 76 hours straight on a public bus), so flying across if probably the way to go.
Unfortunately we also missed out on Naadam festival, the biggest event on the Mongolian calendar. It happens at various locations across the country, and is a huge celebration and spectacle of all the things Mongolians excel at…horse riding, archery and wrestling, and not surprisingly is also known in Mongolia as "the three games of men". The National Naadam is in UB in July, with other regional events are held throughout the country. Definitely worth planning your visit around this.
The other highlight we’ll be saving for another trip is visiting the Eagle hunters in the far west, but again this is a big commitment. It’s about a weeks drive to get there (or 76 hours straight on a public bus), so flying across if probably the way to go.
Unfortunately we also missed out on Naadam festival, the biggest event on the Mongolian calendar. It happens at various locations across the country, and is a huge celebration and spectacle of all the things Mongolians excel at…horse riding, archery and wrestling, and not surprisingly is also known in Mongolia as "the three games of men". The National Naadam is in UB in July, with other regional events are held throughout the country. Definitely worth planning your visit around this.
Disclaimer: We may have messed up a day or two somewhere along the way. The difficult-to-remember place names, the long, long hours spent bouncing around inside our van and multiple cameras set to different timezones may have jiggled our thoughts a bit. So if things don't match up, we're sorry!
Want more?
- Read about our urban adventures in the capital of Mongolia, Ulaanbaatar
- Before Mongolia, we came from Russia.