The Mongols gained fame in the 13th century when under Chinggis KHAN they established a huge Eurasian empire through conquest. After his death the empire was divided into several powerful Mongol states, but these broke apart in the 14th century. The Mongols eventually retired to their original steppe homelands and in the late 17th century came under Chinese rule. Mongolia won its independence in 1921 with Soviet backing and a Communist regime was installed in 1924. The modern country of Mongolia, however, represents only part of the Mongols' historical homeland; more Mongols live in the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region in the People's Republic of China than in Mongolia. Following a peaceful democratic revolution, the ex-Communist Mongolian People's Revolutionary Party (MPRP) won elections in 1990 and 1992, but was defeated by the Democratic Union Coalition (DUC) in the 1996 parliamentary election. The MPRP won an overwhelming majority in the 2000 parliamentary election, but the party lost seats in the 2004 election and shared power with democratic coalition parties from 2004-2008. The MPRP regained a solid majority in the 2008 parliamentary elections; the prime minister and a majority of cabinet members are currently MPRP members.

The story of a young man a small preview...

For the ones who had experienced this cultural initiation you can understand how we felt. The same goes for the showers, rare they are and asking for hot water is like asking Russia to sign he Kyoto agreement, you need your share of luck. Fortunately for us we had both, and took some time to clean up. Nomads clean themselves on a weekly basis in special bathhouses especially for this purpose. It takes time getting used to that’s for sure.

Buying soap was also an interesting activity for men for the only reason being that they did not exist. Forget your manly soaps; here it’s all about lavender, cherry crush and Brazilian coco, sexy woman on the package made in even more official. Don’t tell anybody but as for me I took coco.

When knowledge about a country is minimal we always hear the worst stories. Kidnapping, imprisonment, murder, rape, stolen goods and last but not least, disembowelment with cooking instruments. Most of the time once you get out of that plane and spend a few days all of the above simply vanish, faster than the whisky you drank in your first class seat, number A4.

The more remote you go the more you want to blend in with your surroundings. Unwanted attention will give you problems more than anything else. Typical tourists are prime example, sadly they are the ones making horror stories we hear back home. While exceptions occur, looking wealthy is the last thing you want to do. However hard this is, you eat, live and breathe like the locals, this will not only give you respect but the full unbiased experience of that location you have chosen. With all this behind you the possibilities are endless.

A second point I wish to make is availability, a simple word with the power to change perception, let me explain. With too much spare time and a tendency to say yes all the time people will take you for granted. As your schedule fills up you develop a certain notoriety, people around you will know that time in your presence is hard to get by, thus precious. Always on the run you will attract much more than you tough possible and for once in your life people will gravitate around you, not the other way around. Those magnetic personalities that you hear about are not sitting in their basement wondering what topping to chose on their double crust pizza believe me. Workaholic maybe, but remember, the more you do, the more you can do. Music lessons, gym, learning a new language, social clubs you name it. Give yourself two weeks to adapt to your new routine, if you meet your goals, everything onward will be smooth sailing. Once you have your momentum it’s hard to stop. Surround yourself with positive people, unhappy, everything I told you loses its meaning.

When we finally reached Dalazangad, the furthest city to the south I was alone once again, as a matter of fact the only foreigner in a town of 14000. Little was I to know that I was sitting on the largest coal deposit the world had to offer, 300 million tons to be exact. As an importer those numbers were interesting but hard to carry in a briefcase. I mainly sticked with antiques, artefacts and relics, exploring the old world the old fashioned way. While customs gave me a hard time I usually had a few tricks up my sleeve to dissuade a search witch mainly included diversion. Getting the attention of your subject exactly where you want it. It’s how you dress, it’s how you smell, it’s how you talk, it’s what you project from the outside. This got me in first class a couple times back when I was eighteen to give you an idea.

My first night in town made me question my stay, the streets where empty of people, everything was dark due to a blackout and the occasional car passing by was the only source of light you could find. Stray dogs barking and pieces of shredded newspapers floating in the air made the experience even more authentic. There was nowhere else to go but the small pub that was located underneath my hotel. I ordered some food and ended up with something composed of fried meat, cucumbers and rise, not bad. Alone in the street, alone in the pub with complete silence I scribble in my notebook the outcome of the past days, a candle by my side.

Environments like this one made me nostalgic of all the good times we had together. I could imagine her in front of me with her stack of cards, her brown jacket and her flirtous brown eyes. It was not easy but I needed some time alone to catch up with myself one again.

Upstairs with a hand in front of the candle I make my way in the long black corridor only to come face to face with a man that looked empty from the inside. I got one good look, it was me. Candle on the floor I reach for the keys in my right pocket, door number 7. I was given a spacious room of 6 beds, all where unoccupied, the only living thing around here where flies, all 7 of them. My mind was tormented, the night was long and sleep was not possible until 3 am. I hated those moments but had to deal with them on my own since communication here was not possible.

But let’s put drama on the side for a moment, the next day I had work to do. While walking in the small town I met an English speaking woman by the name of Oljmedekh, branch manager of a gold mining company. I was planning an expedition on motorcycle and she helped me to find a reliable driver who knew the surrounding areas. It was always funny to see mothers at a distance whispering to their children.

- Look kids! A foreigner!

I took that as a good sign, telling myself that I was indeed in the middle of nowhere, where I wanted to be

The first man had no teeth, no hair and smelled alcohol from a mile away. The second did not smile much but looked genuinely good. The third was a teacher but had severe alcohol disorders and by the look on his face I knew that I would have problems with him later on. We arranged an appointment with the second man, Oljmedekh as our interpreter, plans, prices and destinations where made.

The goal was simple; antiques, precious stones, dinosaur bones, illegal gold diggers and sand dunes. In the middle of nowhere was your best bet to find items of real value. For 3 days we would travel 500 kilometres in search of these items in the hearth of the Gobi with a Russian motorcycle. All was illegal of course, except the dunes, not bad.

His name was Olumbayer, a driver for 20 years he could take one apart his eyes closed. Although we could not understand each other I knew I found the right person for the job. He had relatives and contacts in the country side, guaranteeing us shelter and food in our stomachs once in a while. With one family on a radius of 30 kilometres, Mongolia had the lowest population per square mile. Getting lost, a breakdown or a shortage of water or fuel here can be fatal. For 25$ a day everything was included, we would part tomorrow at 8:00am. Later on that day I was stopped by a woman driving a grey minivan who was concerned about my means of transportation. She asked me if I was travelling alone with her Asian accent and when I gave her my answer she looked like this was not possible.

- I never see any solitary travelers around here... where you going?

- To the Gobi desert on motorcycle I answered.

- She paused again with here same look and added; this very dangerous, be careful and bring lots of water...

I took her advice and made my way back to the restaurant in my fly infested hotel, still surprised about this random encounter. I took a generous portion of meat, bread, 3 milk tea bowls, rice and believe it or not, vegetables. They were probably imported from the capital or nearby cites because here, it’s all sand.

Ready and on Schedule he brought a bottle of water, some tea, and for the first time a smile. Travelling light was the best way around here, with an empty bag looking to be filled, a leather jacket and sunglasses we where off. Blue skies, camels, dusty roads and mountains on the horizon. The air was pure and we were travelling at an average speed of 45 km per hour, the bumps where responsible. Our first stop was the icy gorge of Yolin Am. Ice in the desert? Yes it’s possible. Mountains act as a barrier from the arid weather, the only thing you feel here is a cool breeze. This is the only place in the Gobi where ice can be found.

Illegal gold diggers also known as “Ninjas” traded their finds two times a year in a secret location at the southern Chinese border. Since digging requires a licence many end up in jail for a very long time. Some do it in the dream of getting rich fast, some to survive. The couple I was fortunate enough to meet lived in a rusted jeep with a missing front window and dents all over. There was no water and no people, only rocky mountains, a small dirt road and a few empty holes surrounding their vehicle. How did they survive, I had no clue. One thing was for sure, their faces burned by the sun and their torn out clothes made me realise that very few are fortunate enough to succeed in this shark infested industry. While we watched them disappear Olum told me “Ogui Alt” witch roughly translates to “no gold”.

Later on as the sun was setting in we reached our first family. With 4 kids, a baby, a grandmother, an older brother and a mother there was a lot of activity going on. While I was sitting in the middle of their Ger I became the one thing I was running away from; a tourist attraction. All eyes facing one direction they carefully analysed my every move. I could not understand nor have a conversion so I did the same. As for interior design, meat and toothbrushes where hanging from the walls. They had a few family pictures, a stove, one big carpet, drawers and a bed. With that young mother breastfeeding her baby in front of us the first course was served, boiled goat. Now when I say boiled goat I mean the whole thing, they eat every single part of it, leaving nothing else but bone. As for presentation, the head, the legs, the intestines and the thorax in one big metal bowl. Armed with our knifes everybody digged in, eyes, skin, brains you name it. The entire experience felt weird especially when the head of the animal is looking at you while you eat the rest of his body. I was so hungry I just ate as much as I could, food is rare here you can’t be choosy. Even at age 6 children where quite responsible, washing dishes, fuelling the fire and taking care of the animals. In a family of that size sharing 2 Gers intimacy was inexistent, no matter how old you where you slept near mommy.

As a custom, when a stranger enters a Ger they serve him tea no mater his status, there hospitable ways date back as far as the 13th century. Since nomads usually have a large number of animals, milk here is used in many ways. You have fermented mer’s milk that contains 15% alcohol, dry milk curds, goat milk, sheep milk, yak milk, cow milk, milk wine, yogurt, milk tea, and dried cheese. In the country side fruits and vegetables are inexistent, although they did not eat their broccoli their health level seemed relatively high. If you were hoping for a desert, dream on, if you are lucky you might get some more meat. With 6 people in the Ger this was no place for a light sleeper, since I ended up in this category I had to deal with it and wait.

In a few hours we would ride west through a deep rocky valley that was the birth place of numerous bird species.

The welcoming symphony they gave us and their large wings high over our heads brought us back to the dinosaur age for a brief moment. This mystic place that only a few are aware of is only accessible in the dry season. When rain comes the small stone corridor that we used would return to its original form, a river. The best places are usually not on the map, to find them you need to get off the beaten path and start your own. Although risk is involved the benefits are truly worthwhile. Insecurity might hold you back but remember that this was never meant to be easy in the first place.

The further we got the closer the dunes where approaching, slowly making their way in our vision while vegetation grew drier and drier around us...

*The story of a young man will be available in the Books section once fully published.