A tidal wave of beer and a trek in Terelj

I recently made the decision to only write my blog when something interesting happens. This was partly because I don't want it to get boring (if it already has, please do let me know), but also because I am far too lazy to maintain that level of blogication (you see, what I did there was combine the words 'blog' and 'dedication' to make an amusing new word...well I liked it anyway) So that is why I haven't written a new post for a couple of weeks. Anyway, here is my next one...

The last couple of weeks have actually been interesting enough for me to have written two posts about it but as I mentioned earlier, I am far too lazy. Work has been going well and I'm really beginning to get used to life in Mongolia. If anything, I have become complacent. I now casually stroll out into the lawless death trap that is Ulaanbaatars' traffic whereas before I would have formed a strategic plan before even considering crossing a street. I laugh in the face of maniac drivers and kick death in the nuts. Having said that, I still have to be careful. There are occasions when I am crossing a street and I make the mistake of making eye-contact with an approaching driver. He/she instinctively see's this as a challenge and as a result will go out of their way to mow me down. Luckily, I have become adept at unleashing sudden bursts of cheetah-like speed and thus far I have been able to avoid becoming points on somebody's "running-over foreigners" score board.

The weekend before last (3rd-4th Oct) was pretty freaking awesome. Up until that point I hadn't really been able to cut-loose as I had been too busy. If that weekend had been a novel the synopsis would have read: "This is the tale of a guy who went out and drank lots of beer. Oh, and he also visited a monastary." I didn't consume vast quantities of alcohol but my bodies' ability to resist it had drastically weakened due to lack of practise. Now some people might think it's embarrassing to admit that after 3 beers on Saturday night I was well away, but not me. I don't remember exactly how many beers I drank that night, but I do remember that I had an awesome night. A bunch of us VSO's headed to this place called 'Ivory' and it was pretty cool. I met a load of new people and generally made merry. It had been a long time coming but it was worth the wait. All of the worries, stresses, and tiredness that go hand in hand with living in a new and strange country were washed away in a delicious tidal wave of beer. Of course, the morning after the night before is always interesting. I am not unaccustomed to hangovers but it had been a while so when I woke up my body decided to punish me for disturbing it's peace. I awoke lying awkwardly on my couch and my first thought was 'why did I use my trousers as a blanket and use the real blanket as a pillow?'. My second thought was 'my God, I have escaped a hangover, thank the heavens' because my head felt clear. Ecstatic at having evaded said hangover I leapt off the couch and was immediatly hit by the realisation that I had not in fact escaped punishment. My body had cunningly decided to delay exacting vengeance until I was least prepared for it. The moment I stood up I realised my mistake and was practically floored by a headache which felt like someone had ploughed a freight train through my forehead. It was then that I began to notice the familiar signs of a hangover -

Headache - check
Dry mouth - check
Extreme nausea - double check
Inability to move properly - check
Half eaten food lying nearby - check
Intense desire to eat cold pizza and watch a movie in bed - check

Eventually I recovered and I resolved to never let this happen again by drinking more regularly and regaining my alcohol tolerance.

The following weekend myself, Leah, Andrew, Aki, and a German guy named Stefan went for a trek in Terelj. The plan was to walk 40km up one valley, over a ridge, and down another. Terelj is a national park and it is exceedingly beautiful. Our route took us along a river and we passed a number of gers complete with angry guard dogs. There was however, an exception. As we walked past one ger a dog that had been lying nearby got up and bounded over towards us. We armed ourselves with stones (as we always did in such situations), ready to fend off the attack. In fact, it never came. What did come was an extremely friendly dog who seemed pleased to see us. We carried on walking but the dog followed us. We naturally assumed that it would get bored and go home but we were much mistaken. Our new companion would stick with us for the entire weekend. The walk up the valley was great. I was extremely grateful that we were walking on established paths rather than bushwhacking like on the last trip. I wasn't quite so grateful for the weather. The sun rapidly dissapeared and was replaced by cloud and a biting wind and didn't improve for the rest of the day.

We camped on top of a ridge seperating 2 valleys next to an ovoo. It was a nice spot and we got a fire going and cooked dinner whilst trying to fend off our canine companion who was trying her hardest to get our pasta. I was slightly apprehensive about the coming night as my sleeping bag was only good to -4C and the weather forecast had predicted that the night-time temperature for the area would be at least -5C. To prevent myself from freezing to death I threw on all the clothes I had with me and settled down to what proved to be an uncomfortable sleep. One problem with wearing a number of layers is that inevitably your body will decide to make you go to the toilet in the middle of the night. What is normally a simple function becomes a complex race against time to de-layer and get out of the tent. Add to that the fact that the woods we were in were spooky at night and what you are left with is a wholly unpleasant experience. Now, when I went to the toilet there wasn't a cloud in the night sky and the stars were out in all their splendour, so imagine my surprise when I woke up in the morning, unzipped my tent, poked my head out and saw a couple of inches of snow blanketing the ground. Imagine also, my consternation at having a hefty dollop of snow fall off my tent and on to my unsuspecting head. I quickly got over it though as the snow covered forest was magnificent. The snow continued to fall as we packed up and headed down into the next valley. It was truly stunning, all the more so because we walked past a herd of horses galloping about whilst their owner tried and failed to control them.

When the walk was over I was thoroughly tired and aching (40km in two days is a long way, at least for me anyway) but it was a great weekend. The next day in work was equally awesome as I found out that I had had my first project proposal accepted. Helloooooo £10,000 for CYPPD!

I hope you enjoyed this post!

Thanks for reading.