Struggling in Karakorum
Trip Start
Mar 01, 2006
1
58
551
Trip End
Dec 01, 2007
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Karakorum,
Mongolia
Friday, June 9, 2006
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After having a hard time getting up, I went out looking for a minibus to get to Tsetserleg. A taxi driver takes me around and even finds a french-speaking mongolian girl... So I find out about that UB-Tsetserleg bus that should go through Karakorum at around 2pm. Eventually we decide to go with the taxi driver, as he needs to get to Tsetserleg too, and we agree on 25000 tugriks for the ride, just for Amandine and me as sole passengers. There it started: at first we went to the petrol station, and the driver expected us to pay... well, not possible before we are in Tsetserleg, I told him. But he did not have the money. He found a translator to try get the money from us, then he managed to get the petrol without paying immediatelu. That lasted for more than an hour. Then we stopped at his house, of course. And his wife got in the car... well, normal situation! So I told him that we were cutting the price. That really pissed his lady off, and so we ended business. I told him to tka us back to the market, where he had picked us up... and once we got there he even asked me money for driving us around! Well, no way, we had lost the whole morning, and still had no idea on how to get to Tsetserleg.
The minibus or jeeps being too expensive, we set off for the toll post, where we could catch the regular bus, without knowing if it would actually come. We had a couple of hours in front of us, so we took the time to visit the Erdene monastery, on the site of ancient Karakorum, the capital from which Chinggis Khan ruled his Empire (Check out the pictures).
The bus arrives at 15h30. It is full, and when te driver saw all our luggage, he did not even bother to stop. Someone told us that a second bus was following. OK. Well, it arrived shortly after, and was even more crowded than the first one, with people seating on the floor and packs of all sorts on everybody's knees.
So we started hitching. First thing was to wait for a vehicle to pass by. We read and wrote, played with the puppy who was hanging out with us. The sun is hard on us, but the wind brings the cooling effect, sometimes doubled with the sandcloud-in-your-face effect.
Vehicles entering town have to pay a fee. The officer then opens up the barrier. That's when the policeman on duty, getting out of his shack 20 meters from there, uses his whistle. The vehicle, generally a truck, stops there, and the driver spends 5 to 30 minutes a the "police office".
Still nobody to take us along. A car or truck every 5-15 minutes. Around us the mountains, and nearby the city, all in small houses, gers, and wooden fences. On the hills, tourist ger camps with satellite TV and big shiny cars.
A few cars could have taken us, but the sight of our 2 bags + saddle bags + 3 saddles makes them go for the throttle pedal.
We ended up stopping a big pajero... the driver was not too hapy with our load, but we managed to put most of our stuff on the roof (lucky I had brought this rope).
We were getting quite desperate, but it is always in these moments where doubt appears that the solutions come up, by luck and also because everybody can feel that state of emergency (and despair) you are getting in.
In the car, the granny is on the passenger seat, and we sat at the rear with a teenager and two children. The father drove us out of town and we stopped or a little picnic near the river. The old lady gave us some Mongolian cheese. I was wary of getting into stomach problems just when starting thi s3 hours drive, but the cheese was good (a light cow cheese).
Then we started our trip. The road was terrible, to the point where it gets hard to describe: the trail was multiple and dug by the passing vehicles, as they tried to avoid mud ponds, rocks, and holes. We went through a first line of hills, and apparently we got a bit lost! We stopped by a nomad on his horse to ask for directions. And then we cut through the steppe, and later through the mountains, taking dirt roads when there was any, otherwise on grass and through small water streams.
The sight was fantastic. Everywhere, herds of horses , magnificient hair and manes, and foals getting up to run away as the car approached. I also saw huge yaks for the first time.
We made it to Tsetserleg by the end of the day, found our contact and arranged to go see the horses for buying in the morning.
In Tsetserleg we met some French workers, Geraud and Pierrot, working for a NGO.
After discussing with Geraud, we followed his advice: we tried to pack all our stuff so as to avoid needing a pack horse, and that seemed to be possible. So we decided to leave the additional stuff at the guest house and to go only wit one horse each and backpacks.
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