Folk of the Faraway Fridge

I realised tonight that our fridge is currently hosting a fantastical array of fabulous but freaky goods. I say goods because I am slightly concerned about calling some of these things 'food' or 'drink'. Here's a little look at the residents of the fridge Clare and I call 'ours':

I will now attempt to explain some of the curiouser items.

Once upon a time we had a Belgian housemate. He hosted an xmas dinner party at our place while we were out of town. This was all that remained. The "25% foie gras" label has had me running scared since it appeared on the scene. It's the longest standing item in the fridge, having clocked up an impressive nine months in there and still going strong. GO WEIRD TINNED ITEM!

So fresh + so clean. Everything I look for in a beer really. This takes second place in the battle for longevity in our fridge. It appeared one day and never left. I think we're subconsciously waiting for its owner to come and reclaim it, lest we get accused of snaffling someone's last beer. Is it yours? You clearly know where we live, so please come and rescue your lonely little friend.


Russian pomegranate juice is delicious. I don't know the word for 'pomegranate' or 'juice' in Russian but I do know the first gold Cyrillic word here says 'Sok'... which is funny.

Look at this fucking rainbow connection. Rainbows + cows = Russian butter. Did you learn nothing at farm school?

Seabuckthorn wine. No really. 16% alcohol and counting. Sweetly satisfying.


I thought this was Russian cheese spread when I bought it. Then I ate it. I am still no closer to knowing what it is.


A friend brought me back some camel cheese from the Gobi Desert. Over a month ago. The Mongolians sure know how to build things that last.


Luckily this veritable smorgasbord of Russian roulette, French faux pas and Mongolian madness isn't all we've got - somehow Clare and I have managed to keep a tomato plant alive long enough to each grow our own tasty tomato. Just like us, with only a month to go before we ship out of here, they've just about grown enough to jump off their cosy tomato branch and find a new home. *Insert collective 'aw' or 'vomit' here* depending on your predilection.

Parent Party

My parents, the wonderful Sue + Steve, recently paid me a visit here in Mongolia. They took in most of the usual hotspots - the National History Museum, Gandan Monastery and the souvenir section on the 5th floor of the State Department Store. They also embarked upon a journey with me north to Lake Khuvsgul, a huge body of fresh water up near Russia.

Oh what an adventure it was. We trucked along in a Russian jeep, narrowly avoided a hail storm while riding horses and wondered if we'd ever make it home while stranded in the middle of nowhere with no phone reception and only three tires to our name. We also drank a lot of vodka and played a lot of cards. I put together a little video of some of our (well, mostly Steve's) escapades:

There are a few more pics on Flickr, but this one is particularly awesome. It's Sue. And an eagle.



BYE SUE + STEVE. SEE YOU SOON. YOU WERE EXCELLENT VISITORS x

Beers, Bands + Babes

A week ago, I bought a glockenspiel. It looks like this:


Later that afternoon, I attempted to play the glock and a shaker on stage with a pared back version of UK band We Aeronauts at a Mongolian music festival called Playtime. It looked like this:


A few more photos here really only serve to highlight the fact that many beers were drunk + it was kinda cold. For some more insight into what went down just outta Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, when a few thousand people + us converged on a lovely outdoor site to hear local bands and a couple of dudes intent on bringing post-rock-prog to the masses came together, please enjoy 1:29 minutes of video starring The Lemons, Cam, Stefan, Katherine, James, Greg + a bonfire conga line.

FEED ME

I just watched a Mongolian film where a woman killed a sheep then cooked it and ate it, as in gnawed every skerrick of life off massive hunks of bone. And it made me hungry, very hungry, for meat. What have I become?

Real Mongolian Art

Blogging has become a casualty of summer. Instead of hiding behind the Macbook, I've been out riding horses, drinking beer in the sunshine and watching men in minimal clothing wrestle each other. Yeah, summer is so very, very difficult here. This weekend however, I intend to up the word count and reconnect with the internet (and the kitchen for that matter. I have not cooked in months).

So, here I present the first in a number of posts set to grace your screen this weekend. Here are the four seasons of Mongolia packaged and presented in the form of nail art, as created by four different nail technicians on my street. I am currently rocking out the yellow + pink combo. It is 37 degrees + watermelon weather after all...

SPLAYED

This was my day today. How was yours?

I Gave Birth...

... to winter. Then I forgot about how hideous it was because summer is so glorious that any of the pain associated with releasing winter disappeared with the arrival of sunshine and an abundance of dandelion seeds in the air. Check the pics on my Flickr for lots of delightful dandelions and frolicking:

Super summer also means the REAL Mongolian BBQ comes into play. This sucker is called KHORKHOG, and from what I have gathered (and tasted) it involves heating up some rocks until they're red hot (literally glowing) then throwing a sheep or maybe a cow? into a metal pot with oil + vegetables, sealing that puppy + allowing it to pressure cook for a while. Evidence thus:

Francis is below demonstrating how one might lose an arm to the wonders of Khorkhog. There's no holding back: get in there and retrieve some meat or risk being stuck with bones + spring onion.

Then smash that meat like you've never smashed meat before...

Following said BBQ, you are entitled to retire to a delightful Mongolian beach + feel the sand between your toes... while avoiding broken glass and prickles. On a riverbank.

More BBQ adventures to come this weekend when it's slated to hit 36 again. BRING IT.

I Camped + Did Not Die

Yes, I camped in the Mongolian countryside, and no, I did not die from the experience. I actually had a lovely time. Even more surprising was the fact that it was hot + the waterfall we visited was blasting out the good stuff (ie water). There were 12 of us who visited this wondrous region as a bit of a farewell adventure for our buddy Bec who is heading back to AU soon.

The trip was not without drama. On the first day we busted a tyre + had to play rugby while we waited for the tyre to be changed. Rugby? OHGOD moment #1. I did get taught how to correctly throw the 'ball' though... then I stacked it on the grass and scored a million prickles in my hands and tights. Awesome.


OHGOD moment #2 occurred some hours after this when we arrived at the campsite after a detour to pick up a spare tyre in Kharkhorin. Dudes in the first car had set-up the camp site down in a gully by the river. It was nighttime when we arrived and there was a drop of many, many, many, many metres to the tents. I was tired, hungry and concerned for my well-being ergo I firmly but politely refused to rock climb to get down there. Sonja said it was the first time she had heard my scary voice. With some coercion, I schlepped my many, many, many bags down the mutha truckin cliff face. It was not fun but I did not die.


Next day I saw why we were down there. It was pretty.


We played many games of 500, burned things in a fire, ate, drank, rambled and sucked up some seriously fresh air. We also saw a whole lot more colour than we'd seen in a long time. Look! The grass is green! The sky is blue!


Day after we trekked up a pine forest mountain to visit Tuvkhun Monastery where Sonja and I were excited to see Zanabazar's rock chair. Dude had a killer view.

Interesting flora was on display in the region.


On the trip, some of the team also rode camels, burned down a house, ran naked up the cliff face (clearly money was involved), gave dating advice and barked non-stop for four days (yeah, we had canine companions too). I avoided sharing a car with the OHGOD moment #3 canine companion that was on heat, but I did get sandwiched between Sam + Pete for the majority of the car journey. Enlightening is one way to describe it. But yes, I will go camping again this summer. I'll just avoid steep inclines, bleeding dogs and tents that don't have doors.