Journey to Amarbayagalant

Leaving Ulaanbaatar behind, it soon became apparent that the rain was here to stay. The clouds came down to meet the hills that began to rise around us, often obscuring the peaks. There was something rather Scottish about it.

Our lunch stop was at a basic transport cafe - meat and potatoes, meat and rice, fried meat or meat dumplings. I washed my welcome plate of stodge down with a warming cup of 'milk tea', a watery, salty milk drink that had never been near a tea leaf. We drove on through more rain.

The last 35km were off road, along boggy, churned-up mudtracks. Our Russian army vans and our drivers are amazing. We only got stuck once and that was because we'd pulled off a fairly usable 'track' to let an oncoming truck pass. I got out, braving the horizontal icy rain, to survey the scene. Watched a van pull out a mired jeep, which then towed us. We set off again, slipping, crawling and sploshing slowly onwards. Met a surprising number of saloon cars attempting the same journey. Apparently they just slosh along and get pulled out frequently by other vehicles.

Near our ger camp we visited Amarbayagalant monastery. Despite being miserably cold and wet, I was able to enjoy a warming moment of awe in the prayer hall. The wooden ceiling was intricately painted, pillars were hung with dozens of multicoloured strips of tapestery. More textiles hung from the ceilings and furniture. It had a beautiful, softly coloured, ancient look, despite being recently renovated (about 25 years ago). It was orginally built in the 18th century and destroyed in the communist purges of the 1930's. The Mongolians practise Bhuddism in the Tibetan tradition and this is a style of decoration I have not seen before. Outside, prayer flags fluttered and young monks ran happily in and out of the prayer hall, calling to each other, while an older youth practised playing an enormous horn. I love the way that these places seem so relaxed and happy, with none of the severity I associate with churches.

Back at the ger camp, I didn't even contemplate the option of a cold shower, and instead piled on as many warm dry clothes as I could find. Had another meal of basic stodge, washed down with several cups of tea, despite knowling that the payback for instant warmth and comfort would probably be a midnight dash to the toilet block.