On the shores of Lake Khovsgol we set out for a 4-day horse-trek. Sam was determined to put her fear of horses behind her. So it was a relief when her slow, stubborn and flatulent horse, aptly named Dobbin, got on just fine.
Similar to its Russian big brother, Baikal, this is a landscape of glacial waters surrounded by peaks and pines. With winter advancing, needles were nipped to vibrant yellow.
Along with our guides, Bataar and Umbaar, and our Slovenian companion, Aleks, we braved the cold to camp by the lake. We were warmed in the evenings by a roaring fire, lively conversation, rounds of vodka and the odd sing-song. By our third night, though, we were to stay in our first nomadic family ger.
The ice was broken between guests and hosts when Sam unleashed ultra-spicy noodles on the Mongolian palate. It went down quite nicely with a spot of yak yoghurt. Huddled under a mound of blankets, we turned in early to sleep (a bit). The plod back saw yet more stops with Bataar's family and friends for 'chai' and yak-based snacks. We were now fully initiated into ger etiquette.
On our long drive back to UB, we detoured via Mongolia's biggest monastery at Amarbaysgalant Khiid. Set deep in the hills, it might have been described as serene but for the exuberance of the pre-teen monks' game of football. That night, the weather suddenly turned and we woke up to a frosted Buddha...
Similar to its Russian big brother, Baikal, this is a landscape of glacial waters surrounded by peaks and pines. With winter advancing, needles were nipped to vibrant yellow. 
Along with our guides, Bataar and Umbaar, and our Slovenian companion, Aleks, we braved the cold to camp by the lake. We were warmed in the evenings by a roaring fire, lively conversation, rounds of vodka and the odd sing-song. By our third night, though, we were to stay in our first nomadic family ger.
The ice was broken between guests and hosts when Sam unleashed ultra-spicy noodles on the Mongolian palate. It went down quite nicely with a spot of yak yoghurt. Huddled under a mound of blankets, we turned in early to sleep (a bit). The plod back saw yet more stops with Bataar's family and friends for 'chai' and yak-based snacks. We were now fully initiated into ger etiquette.
On our long drive back to UB, we detoured via Mongolia's biggest monastery at Amarbaysgalant Khiid. Set deep in the hills, it might have been described as serene but for the exuberance of the pre-teen monks' game of football. That night, the weather suddenly turned and we woke up to a frosted Buddha...
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