Tsituation update
Still hanging out here in Tsetserleg, having a great, relaxed time. Two nights ago, Isabel (my constant companion) and I walked up one of the mountains that looks over the town. The hike was similar in scale to Mission Peak and with the sun setting around 11pm, we sat up there quite late watching the scenery in peace before walking down. I've been starving for a hearty meal of buuz (pronounced bose), mutton packed steamed dumplings. Unfortunately, the late sunsets have thrown off my sense of restaurant opening hours. We got off the mountain at about 10pm, but everyone had closed up at 9-- I think it's silly that a restaruant could close for dinner while the sun is still up! Instead, we ate salami and instant noodles back at the hotel. Life goes on in the third world.
Yesterday, I finally got on a horse. The trip was set up by Marc, the British owner of the Fairfield Bakery, Cafe and Guesthouse. The Fairfield is the only western establishment in Tsetserleg, and this serves as a haven for expats and travelers looking for a real cup of coffee and a sandwich. It says a lot about the variety of food in Mongolia when British cuisine is sought after as a rare gourmet meal.
Anyway, Mark has an agreement with a nice local horse-raising family, headed by one of the brothers, Ghazghan. His name was not pronouncable, so I dubbed him Gaspar. We spent 6 hours with him and his horses, riding from his ger back into Tsetserleg, about 12km total. The ride was fantastic. My horse, who I named El Guapo, was very cooperative and always eager to run. On several occasions, I got her up to a blissfull gallop across the grassy plains. At one point, we came upon a group of Mongolians on their race horses who were practcing for the Nadaam festival competitions. They were racing at top speed through the valley floor and my horse caught the sprit and we flew together for a magic moment before I turned her around and caught up with the group.
When we weren't racing around the steppes, we liesurely rode through serene streamside glades with short wildflowered grass and shady happy trees. I could have spent days in those meadows, which if you hadn't known better, would have seemed to have been hand designed and manicured. Magical.
We rode back into town tired, saddle sore and starving. I was really ready to finally sit down for a heaping pile of buuz only to be thwarted again by the scheduled power outage that had the whole town in a blackout. At least the restaurant at our hotel had a gas burner and served some tasty soup (but couldn't make a pot of tea for some reason). After dinner, we sat in our hotel rooms snacking, playing cards, drinking vodka and watching the tremendous rainstorm flood the muddy streets.
Was supposed to meet a local woman today for a Mongolian language lesson at 10am today- an hour for $3, why not. She never showed up, which was fine because after the horse trip and a very late night, I wasn't feeling all that internationally curious. All the better to get some writing done.
Yesterday, I finally got on a horse. The trip was set up by Marc, the British owner of the Fairfield Bakery, Cafe and Guesthouse. The Fairfield is the only western establishment in Tsetserleg, and this serves as a haven for expats and travelers looking for a real cup of coffee and a sandwich. It says a lot about the variety of food in Mongolia when British cuisine is sought after as a rare gourmet meal.
Anyway, Mark has an agreement with a nice local horse-raising family, headed by one of the brothers, Ghazghan. His name was not pronouncable, so I dubbed him Gaspar. We spent 6 hours with him and his horses, riding from his ger back into Tsetserleg, about 12km total. The ride was fantastic. My horse, who I named El Guapo, was very cooperative and always eager to run. On several occasions, I got her up to a blissfull gallop across the grassy plains. At one point, we came upon a group of Mongolians on their race horses who were practcing for the Nadaam festival competitions. They were racing at top speed through the valley floor and my horse caught the sprit and we flew together for a magic moment before I turned her around and caught up with the group.
When we weren't racing around the steppes, we liesurely rode through serene streamside glades with short wildflowered grass and shady happy trees. I could have spent days in those meadows, which if you hadn't known better, would have seemed to have been hand designed and manicured. Magical.
We rode back into town tired, saddle sore and starving. I was really ready to finally sit down for a heaping pile of buuz only to be thwarted again by the scheduled power outage that had the whole town in a blackout. At least the restaurant at our hotel had a gas burner and served some tasty soup (but couldn't make a pot of tea for some reason). After dinner, we sat in our hotel rooms snacking, playing cards, drinking vodka and watching the tremendous rainstorm flood the muddy streets.
Was supposed to meet a local woman today for a Mongolian language lesson at 10am today- an hour for $3, why not. She never showed up, which was fine because after the horse trip and a very late night, I wasn't feeling all that internationally curious. All the better to get some writing done.
posted by Scottley at 7:50 PM
1 Comments:
It's perfectly reasonable to have restaraunts close when the sun is still up! what are you looking for, 24 hour restaraunts? *giggles*
Enjoying the read, come visit, get even more sun!
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