Sweet Vulcano

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I have been sitting for days without a possibility to load, so I can not take any pictures – my power bank is too weak – and blogging or writing what I do on my phone or laptop is not possible. I do not mind being unreachable, but it’s strange to be away from everything that distracting us. What’s left? Thinking, staring – should be good for your brain – and experiencing the events itself not thinking about the pictures. In the evening I read, talk, drink and play games.

Since my decision to travel there is space in my brain. I have had this feeling once before, but when I working, I never come into this stage of creativity and development. Add the ‘no distraction’ which makes me feel very different than ever before.

It’s all about the conversations

The best part stays the conversations with my fellow-travellers. Yesterday we – the Belgian guys, the driver and the guide – picked up Devonne. We visited a volcano where the souvenirs took the most time for them. I’m not buying anything, because it don’t want to carry it around for a year.

Devonne is Canadian, but lives in Taiwan every six months. She teaches patisserie. She is dating, but that’s not so easy she tells me for a Western woman in Asia. Taiwanese men find the cultural difference complicated, not long ago she hugged a date after a nice evening. Turns out: never do it! You never touch a Taiwanese guy on a date. “And bootycall?” she had asked her colleagues. “Bootycall?” They never heard of it. After explaining and a lot of giggling they sad that it might be possibel, but then you don’t tell anyone! And that means: NO ONE!

Western men can date a Taiwanese women, easy. It isn’t fear (again). This story reminds me of a story of an abc-boy (an American Born Chinese) who I met in Beijing and visited in NY. He told me that the American boys date the Chinese girls and that he dated rarely (if ever) an American girl. Why? He didn’t know.

Mongolian bus

After the trip through the middle of Mongolia, it’s time to go back to UB (Ulaanbataar, capital). I’m in the bus, it’s a ride of 14 hours. There is a boy with ADHD running back and forth as long as we are in the bus. A few minutes ago he discovered me – not that I was hiding, but you know what I mean. He points his finger and I tell what it is in English. No idea if he picks up, but I admire his energy.

I do have some energy, because we’ve just stopped for food. I invited the girl next to me in the bus to join me. She is a Korean travel companion. She refused to eat because of her diarrhea – what else is new, I think almost everyone I met had either diarrhea or had to vomit. In the restaurant it was hard to order something without meat, but someone who spoke Russian helped me. No idea how he understood me, but it worked. Rice, bread, salad and milk tea of ​​course. One and a half euros.

How’s the Bus?

The bus is good. It’s a Western bus, but there are people on folding chairs for children in the aisle. That’s not allowed, because when we see a police control the people on the folding chairs rush backwards in the bus. The bus is dressed as if it were a ger. In Western countries we hate decoration, but everywhere else they love to add everything they can find. In the bus is a big television with Mongolian music on it. I hate it, to be honest. All songs are similar and the clips look like German schlagermusic – not my style.

Horse Riding

Coming days consist of a day in the capital and then after a park nearby where I go on horseback and camp for a few days. Brrrrr .. cold!

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