Khovsgol Nuur

After feeding up at the rather unfortunately named town of Moron, another soviet style scruffy capital that has a reputation for roughness, we hit the road for Khovsgol Nuur which was a 90km stretch to the town at its outflowing river, Khatgal. We had a very long lunch and spent a bit of time stuffing around trying to find internet, then ran into a couple of bikers heading the same direction. We didn't get away till late afternoon and a storm was brewing and heading our way. We were fortunate that the road was mostly good to Khatgal and managed to make the trip in about 2 hours. I feel a deep sense of satisfaction encountering anything that does not resemble a pothole bound, rutted, uneven road that does not have sand or ditches that run across the track that jump out at you and bottom your suspension so hard you feel like your helmet is going to fly off your head and something like an involuntary smile as your cheeks head sky high. We raced the storm to Khatgal but managed to avoid getting wet and proceeded further up the lake to find a Ger camp to stay in so we can avoid each others smell, at least for one night. This is, apparently, the busiest tourist attraction in the country, but i think perhaps we only saw 2 or 3 cars on the way here. There are no signs pointing where to go and the maps show tracks where there are none (ie we tried to ride the track beside the lake to reach the Ger camp we wanted to go to but ended up on a goat track on the side of a hill in a forest. Hmm. We stay at a ger camp nearest to us as we are tired and couldn't be bothered trying to find the track to the one we wanto stay at. This is ok though as it is perched on the very edge of the lake and has beds, which is our main concern. Mongolia is much like my Nepal experience. You often have menus with numerous listing of foods to be consumed, but in actual reality, there is only one dish available. Mutton noodle soup again? Likely. The next morning we get up and and wanto try for some brunch before leaving to find the road we want. The lady who can speak english in the camp asks the cook if he can cook us something..i think the response is somewhere along the lines of "No". We decide to leave. Khovsgol is a stark contrast to the rest of Mongolia. Firstly there are trees...lots and lots of them, water...lots and lots of it, and it is cold! After some frustration finding the track we need to take, we head back to Khatgal and take a road over a pass to find the place we wanto stay 15km up the lake. The lake is crystal clear with rocky shores, gulls and surrounded by trees with an intensity of green i am not used to. It is beautiful! We stay for a further two nights and generally just vegetate which is just what we want after over 1000km of riding to get here. Alan tried his best to light the Ger on fire by lighting the small stove with petrol as there was a particularly cold, wet night and Alan felt a cold coming on. This was good for him as he slept like he was in a coma and was good the next day, but i spent some of the night sitting in the ger entrance in my undies trying to avoid the furnace that he created. We have seen some most excellent lightning here as there are storms daily. The darkness at night is hard to describe. We wandered up to talk to some Polish tourists and walked back in the dark using the lightning to find our way back to camp. There are no lights here. None. Mongolia had racked up two medals while we were here and there was a celebration of a group and they were drinking vodka made of fermented mares milk. I tried some and i think the petrol tasted better that i used to syphon from dads kombi van for my motorbike when i was a teenager. It tasted (as i imagine) what a horse would taste like if you ground it up whole into a paste. Gross, but that is what i imagine. >>Matt