Forgot to say (in not-yet-translated articles) about the road signs. On the road Khankh – Hatgal they were one of the most amazing things. All of a sudden you can find a ban (!) road sign nailed to a tree, or a milestone standing in the larch forest, looking as though it was always there, before the larch trees, before the lake and the mountains, an artifact left over from the previous turn of the Wheel.

The same feeling left perhaps only the stupas on the way to the Pangong lake, simple stone pedestals of a man’s height, on which stone tablets were piled on top, with inscriptions in a obscure language, incredibly, inconceivably ancient.
Yesterday was spent to get to Hatgal. Somehow I made arrangements with a driver that he’ll go at 16.00 for 10000 tug, but at 16.00 he began to ride around the city, which took about two hours, almost until sunset.
MS gh was a wonderful place, the only reason to complain – the ger, in which I had to wake up three times to relight the stove. On the other hand was warm inside. In the night I scared a marmot out of the ger, till the morning dreaming of all sorts of animals trapped in the tent, even a leopard enmeshed in something and looked utterly miserable. Darrell influence, apparently. Today, one-day horse ride with the Dutch.


Came back from a horse-riding. For such an uncomfy kind of transportation the horse was damn slow, and my balls were too big for the saddle. Loosing it’s foliage forest, however, was warm and cozy, and the lake view – breathtaking. We were ready to stay there, it seems, forever.

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