toyko part one

An easy flight to Toyko. Felt unusual to be using an airplane after all the train and bus journeys. A quick stopover in Seoul and then onto Toyko. My first concern was to validate my Japan Rail Pass which was very straightforward and reserve a ticket to central Toyko. Simple.

I used an website called 'Hospitality Club' to see if anyone could put me up for the first two nights. I sent three requests and a lady called Yuriko obliged. The other two didn't bother to reply. This was a bit of a relief as I landed in Japan with the understanding that it would probably be the most challenging country I would visit on my little tour. She, and her flatmates, live in a nice apartment north of Toyko so the arrangement was to meet her at her local station. Easy. Such an efficient transport network.

Met her and then her flatmates. One a Japanese guy and the other a guy from Quebec. There was another guest too; a chap from Belguim. All nice people. I dropped off my stuff, had something to eat and off I went into the centre. I kept it simple as Tokyo is one crazy place and as I was soon to understand, it's easy to get lost. It really is an overwhelming experience on the senses. Maybe it was more acute for me as Mongolia was quite tranquil. But in Toyko, the traffic roars, the traffic lights beep incessantly, the trains play electronic tunes for the opening and closing of doors, vendors shout out their services, bicycles whizz past, the tempting smell of food is everywhere, audio advertising recordings belch down from above, lights, neon lights, flashing. Oh dear, it's overload.

Add into the mix, the endless number of people. A defining image of my time is Toyko was standing at a pedastrian crossing waiting for the green man light. The crossing itself was some 20 metres in width and similar dimensions pavement to pavement. When the green man appeared both sides of people converge in the middle and cross. But just before that moment I was shunned to see such a wall of people, 10 deep, 20 metres wide approaching. I mean, hundreds and hundreds of people. Something else.

I returned to the flat and we all went out and got drunk (except Yuriko who stayed sober). It was a good night but I suffered for it the next day. I ventured out into the melee to get a camera. A rather nice one, I may add. I saw a couple of sights but felt it quite disorientating getting around. Firstly, the road signs are rarely in roman characters and the same for the building names. The train stations are so huge they could be regarded as towns. The underground network of tunnels is confusing and just make one error with an exit and it will cost you time and sweat to undo. The wind was being taken out of my sail. I wasn't enjoying it very much. It required too much concentration, effort and problem solving skills to be considered enjoyable.

The intention was to leave for Osaka the next day but I flapped about too much and left it too late. The time wastage again was down to trying to find a restaurant, a museum, a sight and failing miserably. Or getting lost in the subterrean world of Toyko station. I was beginning to get frustrated. I didn't want to bother Yuriko again by staying for a third night so I sought out accommodation and by chance found something I am close to in love with. The traditional Japanese Inn or Ryokan. It's cheap accommodation for Japan, 30 euro, and you get your own room, tea making facilities, TV, a Yukata (for lounging) and it was all authentic Japanese style. I went out that evening to find an Irish pub but got seriously lost. The trouble being that the Ryokan shuts its door at 1am and I had 1 hour to rescue myself. I asked a couple of people for directions ( I had forgotten my map!) but no one knew. I remember asking a girl, twenty-ish, and she literally ran away from me in terror! Big bad Western Gorilla. It was hilarious. Then I figured the best way of solving the problem was to find the local train station as I knew my way from there. Two Japanese guys helped, altered their course and brought me to the front door. Very kind.

The next day was more of the same, getting lost. Struggling to find restuarants, struggling to be understood, struggling to order food, everything. That evening I ensured I got the bullet train (truly marvellous machines) to Osaka. Half-way in to the journey, I thought, f*ck it I'll get off at Kyoto instead. You see, I hadn't booked a hostel for Osaka so I was free to change my mind.

ulaanbaatar (UB) part two

Back in UB, there had been heavy snow while I was in the countryside. Damn cold too! My gloves kept icing over with frost. My eyebrows were frosty too. Over the next two days, I visited some of the museums et al but it was just too cold to be around. The trouble was that the hostel was garrisoned by a battalion of Yanks who were intent on securing the common area as their sovereign territory. It didn't appeal to me at all to be near Fortress America so I continued my wandering.

I walked past a photo gallery on one of the main roads. It had an advertising board outside showing examples of portrait photo's taken for customers. There were a half-dozen in all. I had to take a closer glance at one of them. It was a Mongolian bloke dressed as an SS Officer of the Toten­kopf (Death's Head) division. I know this as I recognised the insignia. You could end up in prison in Germany for this. Then I looked at the other photo's and another bloke was proudly dressed as a Nazi! What's this all about?

On my final night, I went for a beer and some Mongolian guy offered me a prostitute at a 50% discount. I declined. He was a reasonable enough bloke and he didn't press it any further. Later he showed me photo's of his wife and kid. They were stored on his mobile phone. I scrolled through them and I couldn't believe it. The guy was a rozzer. I asked him whether it was a fancy dress or something and he casually said 'no, I am a Policeman'. I wonder whether the hooker offer thing was part of a sting.

I left Eric and headed of to a nightclub. It was a reasonably presented place. A place for ex-pats and 'Peace' corp Yanks in the midst of Mongolia's finest. I watched from the balcony at the dancefloor below. It was a cringing experience to watch how the western guys act towards the local girls. Practically forcing themselves on them. Subtle it wasn't. I decided to head back to the hostel.

And lo, my camera and swiss army knife had managed to open the combination lock (provided by the hostel!), leave my room and then cleverly re-lock the door, all by themselves. Clever, eh! Anyway, I made my complaint knowing nothing would come of it. At least, I'm now at the point where there is nothing else of value to be stolen from me ! Fortunately I had backed up my memory cards to CD that day.

The Yanks were having a wonderfully loud conversation as I tried to get asleep. I needed to be up at 5am to go to the airport. My first flight since Dublin to London. Anyway, it was hard not to hear them and I would like to quote them as it will give a good tenor of the conversation.

Y1: Are you ideologically opposed to the word 'c*nt'?
Y2: It's totally the worst word in the world.
Y1: Dude, we're educated, it's only a word. Why don't you like it?
Y2: I guess it has something to do with the 'c' and the 't'.

I could go on but I won't. All I'll say is that Y2 must have an aversion to the words 'count', 'chart', 'cat', etc, etc.

terelji national park

A more reasonable journey this time. Just 2 hours. The landscape along this part of my trip was almost lunar. Covered in a gentle sheet of virgin snow. The size of the mountains and valley's made one feel pretty insignificant against their scale.

We arrived at another nomad family who had located their ger(s) in a valley which was surrounded by high, rocky mountains. The snow was very deep. The choice of location was good for their ger as it protected it from the wind.　But I was still tempted to ask whether those absolutely massive boulders on top of the ridges were a cause for concern. I kept my peace. Regardless of those concerns it was simply breathtaking to be in such a place.

Straight down to business. Where's the meat? What poor animal will I devour now? This is one of the great things about Mongolia. I'm an unshamed meat eater. I believe in the way of the carnivore! Fish! Yuck! Meat! Yes! And todays special is, wait for it, baby camel! I'm joking, I'm unsure whether it was a baby when it was slaughtered. Tasted good though. After the meal, I was told I would have a two hour wait until horse riding. I said I'd have a walk.

Figured it might be interesting to climb to the top of one of the ridges that overlook the ger. Sure it would make a nice photograph. It took an hour, slogging through thick snow, through thickets of forest, past big rocks and boulders. Had an occasional slide backwards. It seemed worth it when I reached the summit. Despite the cold, it was a beautiful bright sunny day. The view was superb. The ger was a tiny little spot below. Then I nearly died with shock.

I felt something sniff at the back of my leg. Holy God, I thought, what the f*ck is that. I knew it was an animal but the agony was not knowing which one. A wolf? They don't mess about, probably got all his mates with him too. A bear? They can outrun humans and some even climb trees. A yeti? I can sell the footage to the Americans. They love all that. Seriously though, I was scared. I turned around and I swear for a minute, I thought it was a wolf. It's colour was wrong though. Then another dog joined us and I knew for sure the other guy wasn't a wolf as no self respecting dog would ever willingly come near a wolf. I thought it best to get back to the ger.

I later discovered that my canine friends were part of the nomads family. My two campanions joined me on the journey down the mountain. One was very playful and kept biting my hand. Didn't hurt or anything but my nerves were on edge and I wanted to kick him. I was trying to figure out why these two dogs came up to me. Romantically, I would say they were trying to protect me. We, humans, provide food and heat. I'm another human so it best serves to keep me alive.　On the other hand, I watched these dogs and they run about sniffing trails. These could be footprints of horses, sheep, whatever. They were probably curious to know what was on the end of my trail. When I got back to the ger, I promised myself that I would not climb mountains without knowing what creatures roam there. Oh, unless I have a large calibre shotgun! I decided to say nothing of my experience to the family, guide or driver.

I dressed up for the part of Mongolian horseman. A very heavy coat called a 'deel'. Must have been at least 6 kilo's. Mongolian boots. I was introduced to my horse. They're quite small. The size of a zebra but sturdy little fellows. He had substantial icicles originating from each nostril! I was told not to kick him on the right side as Mongolian horses don't like that. My little journey lasted 4 hours. It was very cold but really beautiful with the scenery and snow. My little horse was obiedient. Strange to think that it was such little horses who formed Genghis Khans formidable and all conquering cavalry. I could get used to the nomads lifestyle.

Once back at the ger I noticed an endless howling of what I assumed to be a dog. I thought the poor dog had gone mad as it seemed he was howling at his own echo not a distant dog. I told the family about this and they let me know it wasn't a dog but a wolf up in the mountains. I shuddered. They casually told me it was perfectly legal in Mongolia to kill one. I thought about the legality of a wolf killing me! Also, they mentioned that the wolf was howling as tonight would be a full moon.

Sure enough, when I left the ger, the dark was broken only by the light of the full moon. The wolf continued to howl.