KharKhorin - 1st City of the Mongol Empire; First City of my Heart

While out on a not-so-typical man-date the other night, I was told the oldest of Mongolian Adages: "In Ulaanbaatar, there are two ways to survive the winter: you either drink yourself through it, or you escape to the countryside."


Now I know what you're thinking. "Lord Cochrane, I know that Mongolia has long winters, but surely it hasn't started yet." Well my friends, you are absolutely right, but since I'm going to be drinking my way through the winter, I thought I might take an opportunity to see the famous Mongolian countryside before the cold months set in.

The trip to Kharkhorin (the first capital of the Mongol empire) was set up by two German girls who live in my building. When asked if I wanted to join, I responded with a resounding "NEIN!" My German must not be as good as I thought, because they were very confused to see me in the car the following morning.

Here is one of the better roads we drove on.
Right outside UB and right outside Kharkhorin, the roads are paved, but everywhere in between there is just a tangled mess of country roads. Here is the GoogleEarth projection of the roads between Kharkhorin and UB.




Our driver, Okhtober, or "Halloween" as I instantly dubbed him, handled himself very well, only occasionally asking a local sheep herder directions. His navigating skills were of the "eeny meeny miny moe" school of driving, but on these roads, that's about all you have.

The trip was fairly uneventful. I saw and rode a camel, stayed my first night in a Ger, and even saw where Klaus Teuber got his inspiration for the Sheep Hex in Settlers of Cattan. (These pictures look ever so good if you click on them by the way).



Settlers is the ultimate conversation starter with Germans for future reference. We argued the merits of wheat and ore late into the evening to the sound of the howling Mongolian wolves. The only thing we could agree on is that Mongolia is getting hurt by being landlocked, leaving it without the sheep port it so needs.

Sadly none of us brought the game along, so we played cards. Amazingly Okhtober managed to learn our game (31, an easy version of Gin Rummy) and even convinced us to play for money. This without using any English. He started out hot as the Gobi, but his luck ran dry as something that is very dry. How about the Gobi?

Yes, it was a very boring trip until we came across possibly the greatest sculpture I have ever seen: Phallic Rock. Eat your heart out Michelangelo, but if your David had this thing between his legs, he would not have needed a sling to slay the angry Goliath. 'Nuff said.


The Phallic rock is one of three sights to see in Kharkhorin, after the Monastery and the Monastery gift shop. Because I am not interested in Monasteries or giving, I just saw the Phallic rock three times. The rock (pictured above) is pointed squarely at a geological feature known as "The Vaginal Slope" (pictured below). The slope is named for its unique shape.


Now I'm saving myself for marriage, so I can't tell a vagina from an antique typewriter. However, my German compatriots assured me that the name "Vaginal Slope" was more than accurate. There was sex in the air, and my sleep was filled with dreams that I don't fully understand.

Yes, all in all a great weekend. I just returned from a dinner with two girls that I am going to be tutoring on the side. Two adorable Mongolian twins. Since their mother does not know any English, I was forced to work out my payment with the daughters, and let me tell you, these are some no nonsense kids. I can't wait to mold them into little sasstalking-machines. The first lesson, "Talk to the Hand" went very well. Almost too well...

And such concludes my life up until this moment. The weather has not turned too cold yet, but apparently it is the smog that is the real killer. As it gets colder, the Mongolians pick up their Gers and move them closer to the city for warmth. Following this, they do not have gas stoves for heat, and therefore burn anything they can (tires, old furniture, dung) for warmth. This leaves the city in a black haze that I have luckily yet to experience. This is why they say you have to drink your way through winter, or get out to where the air is fresh. I am going to add a third branch to the adage and simply get high on the smog fumes. Take that you nasty season!

I have still not seen a Yak nor ridden a horse, so stop asking. You will be the first people I tell in the whole world wide web. Don't you worry.

Also big shout out to my first and only follower Alex Ripp. The rest of you could learn something from her unwavering spirit and magnificent moxie. You have to start building an Empire somewhere, and I am honored to have her under my flag. Join the Hoard or get out of our way...

You've been warned,

GC