Khatgal, part 2


When is seems that nothing is happening, there is nothing to write. However, it is not quite true.
Yesterday I had a walk along the shore with the same Dutch guys, who wanted “to see the scale of the lake,” i.e., place from which in some direction the opposite side of the lake will be unseen.

We found such place, but I did not see nothing extraordinary there. They haven’t been on Baikal, obviously. In addition, the girl fed a stray dog on the way (or rather, she bought it off to leave), then threw the wrapping under the nearest bush. -100 to karma at once.
In the afternoon the whole crowd has left: two Dutch, and their amazingly beautiful guide, their driver and yet another girl. G.h. became deserted.
On the advice of Ganbaa (the g.h. owner, very, by the way, Nepalese name, and he even looked pretty much like Phurba ), I climbed a hill on the other (eastern) side of the lake, towering above the second bay, and I arrived there just in time for sunset. Now I was just sitting on top of the hill, watching the turquoise lake and enjoying the unity with nature; or, rather, with powers and spirits of this place. Spirits are there, I know that for sure, whatever you call them.

Today I spent on the road from Hatgal to Moron in UAZ-tabletka, with over 20 people packed like sardines. The trip was dreadful, I think with horror of how to survive 20 (or so) hour drive to UB. Batteries in my PPC will not suffice for this time. The start, however, tomorrow at 13.00. Will see.

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