Noelle writes:
We had a lovely day yesterday. We headed out to the national park where we spent the night in a ger and paid a visit to a nomad family. The scenery was beautiful and very unlike what I imagined Mongolia to be like. All the trees had turned a lovely shade of yellow and we took a two hour hike out to a monastery in the middle of nowhere.
Simon got to see lots of yaks so he was very happy, though he didn't end up purchasing one, thank goodness.
Simon writes:
We also had the opportunity to do some archery. The penguins were being lippy so I added them to the archery target. Even so, they evaded the arrows of even the pro Mongolian fella we had with us. Also unfortunately, we don't appear to be able to upload photos in this place. They will follow when technology permits...
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
Ulaan Baatar
Noelle writes:
I know I keep harping on about transportation but Mongolia's is the best. And by the best I mean worst!
It is faster to walk most places than drive in UB as the traffic jams are atrocious! That being said your life is put at considerable risk by walking given that drivers don't pay any attention to traffic lights.
Our first night here our group was at the corner of a very busy intersection and we waited patiently for the green man light to come on. It did and we started to cross the road. BIG MISTAKE! We found out quickly that cars don't care what colour light they have they will go if they can. We slowly made our way across the street with a few of our party nearly ending up beneath the cars. The odd thing was, I looked back across the street and saw a traffic cop standing on the very same corner we had been on and he was doing absolutely NOTHING!
My strategy is to make sure I have a Mongolian between me and the traffic when crossing the street. I know that sounds bad but I figure they know what they're doing and if they don't they'll be a good buffer for me when the car decides not to stop.
Our guide here has told us that there are huge numbers of accidents and fatalities every year but it doesn't change the way people drive.
Another funny thing was that on our drive out to the ger camp we had to pay a road toll for one of the worst roads I have ever been on. It reminded me of the rocky boat trip out to the Yasawas in Fiji. Mom, you would have been very sick!
I know I keep harping on about transportation but Mongolia's is the best. And by the best I mean worst!
It is faster to walk most places than drive in UB as the traffic jams are atrocious! That being said your life is put at considerable risk by walking given that drivers don't pay any attention to traffic lights.
Our first night here our group was at the corner of a very busy intersection and we waited patiently for the green man light to come on. It did and we started to cross the road. BIG MISTAKE! We found out quickly that cars don't care what colour light they have they will go if they can. We slowly made our way across the street with a few of our party nearly ending up beneath the cars. The odd thing was, I looked back across the street and saw a traffic cop standing on the very same corner we had been on and he was doing absolutely NOTHING!
My strategy is to make sure I have a Mongolian between me and the traffic when crossing the street. I know that sounds bad but I figure they know what they're doing and if they don't they'll be a good buffer for me when the car decides not to stop.
Our guide here has told us that there are huge numbers of accidents and fatalities every year but it doesn't change the way people drive.
Another funny thing was that on our drive out to the ger camp we had to pay a road toll for one of the worst roads I have ever been on. It reminded me of the rocky boat trip out to the Yasawas in Fiji. Mom, you would have been very sick!
Instructions for a successful Russian banya
Simon writes:
Here follows a description of the banya we got involved with on the shores of Lake Baikal, Siberia. Instructions for a successful banya come in the form of Nicolai (the owner), an electric little Siberian and total legend who is able to make himself understood in any language by gesticulating wildly and joyfully. Please note, if you ever have a Russian banya you may be required to beat a naked man with branches or demand that a naked man beats you with branches. Roll with it.
So pardon my verbosity, but here goes:
Enter into a low-ceilinged room and change on the left. Put on one of the felt hats on the table at the end of the room and go through the washroom into the steam room. Sit on the highest bench (at Nicolai's insistence) and begin roasting for 5/10 minutes/as long as you can bear it (the temperature is 100 degrees celcius).
Leave the steam room gasping for breath and pouring with sweat. Rest in the rest room for a couple of minutes and prepare yourself for a beating. Put your hat back on and re-enter the steam room where Nicolai, clad in microscopic bathing drawers (or occasionally au naturel), is waiting for you. Bake for a little while longer and then lie on your front on the top shelf. Nicolai then takes the branches (birch or juniper), puts them in the stove from the bucket of water in which they've been soaking and proceeds to whack you with them up and down the back, arse and back of the legs. The sensation is painful but pleasurable. Two sides of the same coin really. Dostoevsky would have loved it and no doubt derived inspiration from it. When you've been thoroughly thrashed you are then given the branches for a bit of self abuse on your front.
Next, leave the banya at at trot, not forgetting to discard your hat on the way. Run outside and jump into the freezing plunge pool. Begin tingling with pleasure all over. Get out and hang around outside for a few minutes to recover. Repeat the whole process as required.
Finally, brace yourself against the wall in the wash room to be exfoliated with what you have been assured is a scrubbing sponge. This is a vicious lie. In fact it's some form of wire pot scourer. Nicolai fills it with soap and water and proceeds to rub you down. Hard. Calling this part pleasurable would be pushing it, but persevere, it all comes good in the end (again, you're given the scourer to do your front).
Next, rinse off thoroughly with cold water. Head into the house for a cold beer and a dinner of freshly-smoked Baikal omul and feel genuinely reborn. Sleep like a baby.
Here follows a description of the banya we got involved with on the shores of Lake Baikal, Siberia. Instructions for a successful banya come in the form of Nicolai (the owner), an electric little Siberian and total legend who is able to make himself understood in any language by gesticulating wildly and joyfully. Please note, if you ever have a Russian banya you may be required to beat a naked man with branches or demand that a naked man beats you with branches. Roll with it.
So pardon my verbosity, but here goes:
Enter into a low-ceilinged room and change on the left. Put on one of the felt hats on the table at the end of the room and go through the washroom into the steam room. Sit on the highest bench (at Nicolai's insistence) and begin roasting for 5/10 minutes/as long as you can bear it (the temperature is 100 degrees celcius).
Leave the steam room gasping for breath and pouring with sweat. Rest in the rest room for a couple of minutes and prepare yourself for a beating. Put your hat back on and re-enter the steam room where Nicolai, clad in microscopic bathing drawers (or occasionally au naturel), is waiting for you. Bake for a little while longer and then lie on your front on the top shelf. Nicolai then takes the branches (birch or juniper), puts them in the stove from the bucket of water in which they've been soaking and proceeds to whack you with them up and down the back, arse and back of the legs. The sensation is painful but pleasurable. Two sides of the same coin really. Dostoevsky would have loved it and no doubt derived inspiration from it. When you've been thoroughly thrashed you are then given the branches for a bit of self abuse on your front.
Next, leave the banya at at trot, not forgetting to discard your hat on the way. Run outside and jump into the freezing plunge pool. Begin tingling with pleasure all over. Get out and hang around outside for a few minutes to recover. Repeat the whole process as required.
Finally, brace yourself against the wall in the wash room to be exfoliated with what you have been assured is a scrubbing sponge. This is a vicious lie. In fact it's some form of wire pot scourer. Nicolai fills it with soap and water and proceeds to rub you down. Hard. Calling this part pleasurable would be pushing it, but persevere, it all comes good in the end (again, you're given the scourer to do your front).
Next, rinse off thoroughly with cold water. Head into the house for a cold beer and a dinner of freshly-smoked Baikal omul and feel genuinely reborn. Sleep like a baby.
Thursday, 25 September 2008
News from the exiles...
Simon writes:
We're in Irkutsk (Siberia), a town that the Lonely Planet describes as "seedy". Well sod you Lonely Planet! I think it's intensely agreable actually. Here are a couple of first impressions:
We got here by train, obviously. It took fully 3 whole days and 4 nights from Moscow and we're still only half way across Russia! Rather large really. On the train we encountered some lovely people, who took a great interest in the penguins and spoke English and even a bit of Mandarin! Sasha and Katia (see pic) - salutations to you both!
We also encountered a horde of drunken Russian army Lieutenants and a woman of quite staggering vindictiveness. Each carriage on trans siberian trains has a provodnitsa or attendant, who checks tickets when you get on, cleans the toilets and carriages, dispenses bedding etc. Ours was variously known as the Ayatollah, the Poinsonous Witch, the Moodswing Madam etc. Doing almost anything untoward (going to the toilet at the wrong time, opening the window, standing on the carpet at the wrong time etc) would inspire her to deliver a volley of abuse in Russian, even though she must have known by the end of 4 bleeding days that we had no idea what she was saying! I don't have a picture I'm afraid. I probably would not have lived to be writing these words had I attempted to take one. To be fair to her, she did keep the toilets in a useable state and brightened up when we offered her cake. One army guy we spoke to reckoned she was an alcoholic. Who knows...
Anywho, we're off to lake Baikal tomorrow and I hope to bring you lucky people more pictures of fish in due course! Then it's on to Mongolia and then China. Bye for now chums!
Oh, by the way, there's now a pic of the penguins in Red Square up on my last post...
We're in Irkutsk (Siberia), a town that the Lonely Planet describes as "seedy". Well sod you Lonely Planet! I think it's intensely agreable actually. Here are a couple of first impressions:
We got here by train, obviously. It took fully 3 whole days and 4 nights from Moscow and we're still only half way across Russia! Rather large really. On the train we encountered some lovely people, who took a great interest in the penguins and spoke English and even a bit of Mandarin! Sasha and Katia (see pic) - salutations to you both!
We also encountered a horde of drunken Russian army Lieutenants and a woman of quite staggering vindictiveness. Each carriage on trans siberian trains has a provodnitsa or attendant, who checks tickets when you get on, cleans the toilets and carriages, dispenses bedding etc. Ours was variously known as the Ayatollah, the Poinsonous Witch, the Moodswing Madam etc. Doing almost anything untoward (going to the toilet at the wrong time, opening the window, standing on the carpet at the wrong time etc) would inspire her to deliver a volley of abuse in Russian, even though she must have known by the end of 4 bleeding days that we had no idea what she was saying! I don't have a picture I'm afraid. I probably would not have lived to be writing these words had I attempted to take one. To be fair to her, she did keep the toilets in a useable state and brightened up when we offered her cake. One army guy we spoke to reckoned she was an alcoholic. Who knows...
Anywho, we're off to lake Baikal tomorrow and I hope to bring you lucky people more pictures of fish in due course! Then it's on to Mongolia and then China. Bye for now chums!
Oh, by the way, there's now a pic of the penguins in Red Square up on my last post...
Saturday, 20 September 2008
Notes from Russia
Noelle writes:
1. I love Ladas! They are so cool. In the words of Joy Turner (My Name is Earl): I wonnit! So our backup plan for coming home is now to buy a Lada, drive to the northeast tip of Russia, catch a boat to Alaska and drive the Lada to Vancouver.
2. St. Petersburg has over 200 universities.
3. You are not allowed to throw toilet paper down the loo anywhere in Russia so most washrooms stink from the smell of the paper in the baskets next to the toilets.
4. Russian drivers are crazy! As crazy as the Mexicans my family may ask. I'd say they are nearly on par.
5. The food here is really good! Loads of pancakes (that's crepes for the North American readers) and great soups.
6. The Moscow metro has more commuters each day than both London and New York combined. And they are beautiful stations (see pics).
7. Russians love ice cream. It doesn't matter what the temperature, you can find ice cream kiosks everywhere.
1. I love Ladas! They are so cool. In the words of Joy Turner (My Name is Earl): I wonnit! So our backup plan for coming home is now to buy a Lada, drive to the northeast tip of Russia, catch a boat to Alaska and drive the Lada to Vancouver.
2. St. Petersburg has over 200 universities.
3. You are not allowed to throw toilet paper down the loo anywhere in Russia so most washrooms stink from the smell of the paper in the baskets next to the toilets.
4. Russian drivers are crazy! As crazy as the Mexicans my family may ask. I'd say they are nearly on par.
5. The food here is really good! Loads of pancakes (that's crepes for the North American readers) and great soups.
6. The Moscow metro has more commuters each day than both London and New York combined. And they are beautiful stations (see pics).
7. Russians love ice cream. It doesn't matter what the temperature, you can find ice cream kiosks everywhere.
Moscow
Simon writes:
We're in Moscow (a couple hours late because some numbnuts, who shall be nameless, had to go back to Suzdal where he forgot his money belt!). Russians are properly into their weddings by the way - bridal parties tour the main historic sites for photo ops, terrorising innocent tourists with their rose petals and their 1980s clothing. Shiny suits everywhere - eww!
The penguins were out on parole in Red Square (pic to follow). Being committed fascists, they weren't very impressed with all the Communist stuff and the glorification of Lenin that still goes on here. The cult of personality is alive and well it seems...
We're in Moscow (a couple hours late because some numbnuts, who shall be nameless, had to go back to Suzdal where he forgot his money belt!). Russians are properly into their weddings by the way - bridal parties tour the main historic sites for photo ops, terrorising innocent tourists with their rose petals and their 1980s clothing. Shiny suits everywhere - eww!
The penguins were out on parole in Red Square (pic to follow). Being committed fascists, they weren't very impressed with all the Communist stuff and the glorification of Lenin that still goes on here. The cult of personality is alive and well it seems...
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
St. Petersburg
Noelle writes:
Wow, St. Petersburg is quite something! The buildings here are amazing and so colourful. Been to the Hermitage this morning and tonight we leave with our tour group for Suzdal, near Moscow.
It's freezing here so we had to go to the market yesterday to buy ourselves more clothes (including my new hat).
Wow, St. Petersburg is quite something! The buildings here are amazing and so colourful. Been to the Hermitage this morning and tonight we leave with our tour group for Suzdal, near Moscow.
It's freezing here so we had to go to the market yesterday to buy ourselves more clothes (including my new hat).
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