Ongiin Khiid, Mongolia
A storm gave the ger a good rattling overnight and the rain hammered against the felt. I opened the door to a grey morning, where the wind carried the rain horizontally making a trip to the gents a very swift experience. The promise of porridge for breakfast had Bob wriggling excitedly in her sleepingbag, but on arrival it turned out that Mongolian porridge used rice instead of oats, water instead of milk and salt instead of sugar... Nevertheless it was warm and...