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Posts Tagged ‘temple’

Beijing again – and bye-bye!

Well, what’s left to do in Beijing? Quite a lot really, and what I would like is to return and spend more time just wandering through the hutongs, taking the underground and buses to various places, exploring in a rickshaw. If I ever return to China, it will have to be as a lone traveller, not on a tour, so that I can move around as I wish and spend as long as I like in different places. I love the country, its culture and history, after this first experience of it. But I also know I could never live here. In the midst of all the fantastic experiences we’ve had, I’ve never really forgotten the oppression people lived under for so many decades. Before this trip, I bought several books by two Chinese authors. The reason I didn’t bring them along was because I learnt that both authors have been exiled and their books banned in China. One of them lives in London. This controlling attitude is still evident in China today. It is difficult for people to leave or return to the country – hence the checks at borders. People are happy and relaxed and enjoying the wealth which is now theirs for the taking (well, for some people) but there is still a communist government, and no free passage – or speech – when you want it.


We spent the morning at the Summer Palace, a lovely landscaped estate on the edge of the city. Story has it that an emperor, Qianlong, visited another palace on a lake and was hugely impressed, so he returned home and turned one of his royal gardens into a smaller identical version of the one he’d seen on holiday. This was sometime in the 18th century, and his landscaping and embellishments (he created new hills, islands in the lake, etc) employed over 100,000 labourers. It is undoubtedly a beautiful place, with temples on the hills, arched bridges across to the islands and an amazing long wooden corridor winding alongside the lake, decorated with fine latticework and painted panels.


A later resident at the palace, the dowager empress Cixi, was a bit of a spendthrift. When the buildings were damaged during the 2nd Opium War, she used the money which was earmarked for a new, modern Chinese navy to repair the damage. The only concession she made to the navy was to have a marble boat built at the edge of the lake. She liked taking her lunch on it, apparently. She was also quite cruel – and not a woman to be crossed. She would order 50 or 60 dishes be prepared for each meal, and then only sample a few – after her official taster had tried out all dishes in case they contained poison. Not only wasteful, but also a bit paranoid. Unless, of cure, she had good reason to believe people wanted her dead. She wasn’t exactly beloved of her people; probably a bit of rejoicing when she finally died.


The buildings do have the most charming names: Buddhist Fragrance Pavilion, Hall of Benevolence and Longevity, Temple of the Sea of Wisdom, Cloud Dispelling Hall. And the boats that carry you from mainland to the islands are beautiful, with canopies and embellishments, dragons and other animals at the prow, all painted and goldleafed. It’s a very popular day trip for locals from Beijing and a bit of a tourist attraction for parties of Chinese from all over. And us.


Our next – and last – stop was back in Beijing at a traditional Tea House. A proper tea ceremony to round off our time in China and make sure we got a good dose of the culture. It was a beautiful ceremony, highlighting the Chinese philosophy that it’s not just the end result that matters, but the entire process. So from the heating of the teapot to the final pouring (from a great height) of the boiling water onto the leaves, it was a great thing to watch. We tasted about 5 teas, examined them in their dry state – amazingly they wrap some teas up in tiny rose petals, so they unfold in the boiling water. The art of hand rolling teas before using them is an alien concept to us Brits, accustomed as we are to the dust in our teabags.


The rest of our time in Beijing was our own, to spend as we wished. I really appreciated being rushed from place to place because otherwise, in the short time here in China, we’d have seen relatively little. But it was so nice to just have a day where you could get up when you wanted, sit in the bar or explore shops at your leisure. I went off to find a jade shop I’d seen the first time we were in Beijing, and ended up with lots of small pieces which I can incorporate into jewellery. It’ll look stunning together with silver! I also went to the Artists’ Village in Beijing with three others. a great morning out but could have spent longer. It’s built on the site of an old munitions factory – it must have resembled a small town, with its many streets, railway lines and countless buildings. It’s now been converted to artists’ studios, shops, galleries and cafes. A lovely place. I wandered around for just over an hour, bought a watch to hang round my neck for a fiver. One shop I particularly liked, selling beautifully crafted silver jewellery. I managed to pick up a few ideas…..


There are still reminders of its less peaceful past in the rail lines, engines, huge pipes and boilers which used to service the huge munitions factory. Funnily enough, these provide favourite backdrops for wedding photos! I saw a girl being heavily made up in the back of a car before such a photo shoot, as well as several bridal couples in flouncy finery being snapped against a backdrop of rusty boilers.


We also had a last meal with Margaret and Pete, who left the Ozbus trip at Beijing. Margaret has returned to the States but we may see her again in New York. Pete is flying back to the UK and will be resplendent at his niece’s christening if he puts on his Chinese gear and displays his tattoo. We will miss them both. At the dinner, which was in another hostel which also has a restaurant – very atmospheric – Ciaran, Andy, Ben and Jonny had a surprise for us when they announced they had Awards to hand out. We all got a certificate for something: Linda for battering gypsies (when she foiled an attempt to steal her bag in Moscow), Pat for her Rocky moments, me for being better late than never (joining at Warsaw), Sandra for being a cardsharp, Andy for the best blog, and so on. Some I can’t mention. A lot of fun.

Pingyao!

Pronounced like a bullet richoteting around your ears…
An absolute jewel of a place – severe dust-coloured city walls enclosing a bustling rabbit warren of streets and lanes. We were taken by coach from Xian to the outskirts of Pingyao where we met An, our new guide from here to Datong, his hometown. We seemed to circle the dust-coloured city walls on about three sides before being emptied out, with our baggage, outside one of the city gates. The city within the walls was apparently traffic-free. Almost. Well, there were barriers across the roads which were lifted early in the morning and again in the evening to let stallholders and shopowners get in and out with stock etc. Not to mention those rich enough to drive some of the flash cars we saw. Beside the barriers were stiles made of metal which we had to get over in order to get to our guesthouse. We were told that it was a traditional house, and my biggest fear was that there would be squat toilets for two days….


But, I needn’t have worried. Our hotel – De Ju Yuan – was a restored traditional house, completed quite recently (with Western toilets!! in a wet room): an inner courtyard with rooms off and tables and chairs in the courtyard, plants, decorated wooden fascias – so picturesque it takes your breath away. Everything was authentic country Chinese – the feeling that at last after Beijing and Xian we were seeing the real China. The fact that so many Chinese come here for their 3-day Labour day holiday is confirmation that this is a great place to be.

I took many beautiful photographs to jog my memory in the future: Andy playing his guitar in the courtyard, the rest of us drinking out there, the Aussies and Jonny playing arsehole, Crazy Linda scowling or delighting us with her personality….

Now Crazy Linda – she was something. One of the waitresses, she introduced herself as Linda, Crazy Linda; she soon captured our hearts and made us rock with laughter. Nineteen years old, looking as if she slept in her clothes, but such a live wire. She could come across as rude or bossy – and that was to the customers! But she was extremely helpful, would sit beside us and order us about, then order her older colleagues about. She confessed to having ambitions to be a guide, whereupon we agreed she’d be very good, as she had a great personality. This was a word she didn’t know in English, so she wrote it on her hand and continually spoke it aloud to learn it. Such an ambitious girl.

Her observation that Pete was cute but Ben was handsome amused us all, especially as Ben has been asked by groups of girls, ever since entering China, to pose with them for photos. Gary found out why: apparently Ben resembles Prince William, in the eyes of teenage Chinese girls. At any rate, crazy Linda liked him (and hung round him a fair bit – see photo of two of them with our guide Gary!) and apparently there was a marriage ceremony of sorts one morning. She passed on her email contact details to us before we left – so she’ll no doubt hear from some of our group!


The food – best so far in China, as far as I’m concerned. So tasty and a good variety of delicious dishes to suit my vegetarianism! And it was served in a dining room that resembled a Great Hall – very atmospheric. The guesthouse was very old and when it was a family home it housed several generations: the grandparents would have the main house opening off the main courtyard where Pat and I had our room, other generations would have their quarters in another courtyard, or upstairs in the attics. Guests would be offered room off the main courtyard too. This particular house was in private hands until the late 1940s when the government seized it. Decades later, the present owner bought it and restored it to its present glory. With upgraded toilets and ensuite showers. Lovely.


On one of our days, we did a walk along the city walls before descending into the chaos of the little narrow streets and visiting a temple – a mixture of Buddhist and Taoist – which turned out to be a quiet little place to escape from the turbulence of the street outside. We then joined queues of seemingly hordes of Chinese tourists who wanted to visit the first bank in the region. Quite a contrast to the temple… it was absolutely heaving, we couldn’t hear An give his guided tour, and actually lost him and Gary a couple of times. In the end, some of us gave up, escaped, and went back to the guesthouse. Pat and I took a mad rickshaw outside the city walls later, as we were running out of cash and needed a bank. Then we walked back, spending money as we went in little shops and stalls on the way. Got some lovely paintings in a little shop. We also found a place to have massage – I had the foot and leg massage – the most wonderful one since Pattaya about 8 years ago. I was walking on air afterwards.

The Last Train in China – off to Xian


Well, not really, just the last train I’m taking this trip. The station we left from in Beijing is really state of the art – probably beautified specially for the Beijing Olympics in 2008. We were able to wait in the mothers and children waiting room – either on account of the aged mothers amongst us, or the children who constitute our younger members. But actually, Gary made it happen – western tourists are still accorded some sort of special treatment, like in the Middle Eastern and Asian tales from Somerset Maugham or Agatha Christie. The train was similar to the ones we’d been on before, cold at night, so I was glad of my inner fleece sleeping bag. I shared with Tony and Sandra again but as it was about 10pm by the time we got settled, and we had an early arrival in Xian the next day, we just got ourselves into our bunks. No card playing with Sandra.

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At the other end, we were met by An, our Xian guide. Very sweet! We had a bit of a tour around the city walls and inside the old city before driving past the Digital Area (where there are shops selling everything from TVs and mobiles to computers etc) and on to our hotel. This particular one is normally used by Chinese businessmen. So no one spoke any English, the menu was totally in Chinese, there was one bottle of wine in the bar and one of our party bought that on the first night. The staff ran around for ages trying to find how much it cost, then trying to locate a corkscrew. There was actually one attached with cellophane to the bottle…. Over the next couple of days we tried to get alcoholic drinks at the bar. A couple of bottles of beer were all that were forthcoming.


The room was pleasant – twin beds – apart from that I found Xian quite a challenge. The sand that was blowing over north China from the Gobi Desert was the major problem, together with Xian’s natural smog, caused partly by car exhausts but also from wood and coal stoves all over the city. Just like Victorian London. When we went out, Gary bought dust masks for Caroline and me and we wore them through the Wild Goose Pagoda visit. A most attractive look! (Sorry – can’t get the photo to stay rotated…!) Xian is the capital of Shaanxi province, and Shaanxi is part of the Loess Plateau which is covered by microscopic silt that began blowing down from Siberia during the last Ice Age. This makes is a very dusty place – you can see it all just hanging in the air. Couldn’t even open the bedroom windows, so had air-con on all day and night.


The Wild Goose Pagoda houses the Buddhist sutras brought back from India by Xuan Zang in the 7th century. He spent his life translating them and his travels inspired one of China’s best known works of literature: ‘Journey to the West’. Gary meanwhile was telling us all sorts of interesting facts and anecdotes about China. The Chinese flag consists of one large star – the government – and four smaller stars which represent the four occupations of the inhabitants: workers, farmers, soldiers and intellectuals. The latter must have read the three main pieces of Chinese literature: ‘Journey to the West’, ‘The Dream of the Red Mansion’ and ‘Three Kingdoms’.

We were whisked away after this to a jade factory – so interesting; I now know the difference between jadeite which is found polished by running water in streams, and agates which are hewn from rock. Jadeite is very hard – can scratch glass – and translucent, and carries a heftier pricetag. It is also much harder to carve – and this is generally done with diamond cutters. The more intricate jade work is generally done with softer agate. There is also ‘fake’ jade around, mainly soapstone or other stones. But what does it matter if they are beautiful in their own right?! I ended up buying a variety of pieces in Xian, then later in Beijing. They are all lovely, regardless of what stone they are. The trick is not to part with too much money for the cheaper ones!

Finally, after lunch, we were off to see the Terracotta Warriors, the main reason for our visit to Xian.


Once upon a time (about 2000 years ago) there was a boy of 13 who became the first ruler to unify China. A truly amazing man who ruled for 36 years: Qin Shi Huang. He has been described as a chronic overachiever. He centralised government, standardised measurements, currency and writing; he built new roads and canals and conquered a good few of his neighbours. He was also a pretty controlling individual with a nasty sadistic streak: he enslaved thousands to work on his projects and according to legend he couldn’t take criticism so buried alive about 460 disapproving scholars. Not nice.

So where does the Terracotta Army come in? Well, there are two main theories about this massive collection of archers, infantrymen, horsemen and their horses and chariots, and officers. One is that in all his battles he was responsible for the deaths of thousands of soldiers and was seriously afraid of retribution from their spirits in the afterlife. He therefore produced his own life-size terracotta army to protect him. The second theory – the one archaeologists prefer – is that he expected his rule to continue in death as it had in life, so of course he took his army with him. The sight of all these figures is truly amazing – much more impressive than I ever imagined. No two faces are identical; it is said he had masks made from every soldier in his army and the task of creating the warriors was farmed out to craftsmen in villages all over the area. A huge undertaking. As well as warriors, there are countless horses – and the attention to detail is fabulous.


In 1974 a few farmers were digging a well when they came across an underground vault containing the remains of thousands of soldiers in battle formation, together with their horses. The government acquired their land in order to carry out further excavations, and rewarded the farmers by building them a small community of lovely houses where they could also carry out other businesses. One of the original farmers sits in the Terracotta Army complex and signs books for tourists. They are apparently extremely wealthy as a result of their accidental find all those years ago!

The next day I took a day off, as I really didn’t fancy wearing the mask and walking around the city wall with some of the others in the group. So I relaxed with laptop, book and the Chinese TV commentary of the William – Kate wedding in London. Then I was joined by a few others and we found a local English language news channel and watched highlights on that. Not entirely accurate, actually, The presenter kept saying ‘Diana’ instead of Kate, and when explaining who the guests were, made some of them relatives of the Queen. But a good laugh! Our guide An sang us two songs on the coach that evening – one of them a love song in Chinese dedicated to William and Kate. We went out that evening to a light and fountain display in honour of Labour Day. The festivities run over three days and the Chinese know how to enjoy themselves! Splashing around in the fountains, madly waving umbrellas and squirting each other. Andy and Pete followed suit, of course.

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After a trek from the station to the awaiting bus, we were off to our hotel: King’s Joy Hotel. Lovely twin bedded rooms – I shared with Pat – a great bar on the top floor, internet access at last! and laundry. What more do you need? We had the rest of the day – just a few hours – to ourselves and a meal together in a local restaurant. Gary made sure I got enough vegetarian food, but I remain unconvinced about Chinese food. Some dishes were tasty, but on the whole I like my food less waterlogged. I was told there would be fried tofu – but when it came it was pallid, grey and floating in water. Cabbage plays a large part – OK if you’re a meat eater, but three types of cabbage for a vegetarian lacks excitement. The tasty veg was incorporated into meat dishes – pork with green peppers, beef and onions etc. I was dying for an onion! Enough said. There was an opportunity to go to a Chinese dance display in the evening, but I cried off and went to bed early. Lovely bed… You appreciate these things after being on a train!


The following day, we were whisked around Beijing as if there was no tomorrow. Gary was such an interesting guide who slowly warmed to us and after being purely professional and giving us potted histories, then opened up to us and gave us his own life story. So what started off as a tribute to the Mao years, finally became the story of one Chinese family and the implications the Mao years – and especially the Cultural Revolution – had on this family. Gary’s father had had his own business, but in the 50s had been stripped of this and forced to live as one of the workers. The impact on the family was considerable, and Gary himself escaped from this life purely because he did well at school and was allowed to attend a language college where he studied English. But his interest in English was also his downfall, as he was reported for tuning into BBC radio (to improve his English) and as a result got a black mark on his record and was denied entry to the Party. This had repercussions on his chosen career and as a result he did not follow the path he had once planned. But through it all, he never lost his faith in Mao; he praised many of his enlightened actions but stressed that, being human, Mao also made mistakes. The cultural revolution being one of them, as it set China back hugely and deprived people of the chance to develop themselves and their country creatively. Gary’s early employment as a teacher was not a very happy period for him – and he was glad of the opportunity to become a guide!

So, our mad, frenetic tour. Starting with the Temple of Heaven Park. This is a huge complex: gardens, buildings and courtyards and the nicest part is seeing all the people there enjoying themselves. The main sight to see was the round tower in the centre (see the photo above), round because that signifies the sky, and crowned with a golden orb, to signify the sun. Sky and sun being the main facets of good harvests, which is what this building, The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, is all about.


All over the gardens, in the courtyards and paved areas, we came across people engaging with each other: a group doing Tai Chi together; a few people perched on a low wall, knitting and crocheting; people making music with interesting instruments; others playing cards, or mahjong, or Chinese chess; people of all ages dancing (ballroom and American line-dancing!); others engaged in sport – badminton, ping-pong and other games I’ve never seen before.


Apparently the age of retirement is 60, but many people take earlier retirement in order to free up jobs for younger people. And once retired, you go out daily to parks such as this to meet your friends, get exercise, play cards or other games. People tend to take a picnic lunch with them so they can spend the entire day in the parks when the weather is good. I am so impressed by this system – feel like going home and forcing people to do likewise! All around us we saw people in their 70s and 80s who were happy and smiling (unless cross with each other at cards!) and a lot more energetic than most of their counterparts in the UK.

Then we were whisked away to Tian’anmen Square (Qianmen in Chinese, with ‘Q’ pronounced ‘ch’). We were warned it was enormous, and it was. Absolutely huge, and swarming with people. At one end, there was a long, winding queue, constantly on the move, of people wishing to pay their respects to Mao, who lies in state still since his death in 1976. His mummified body lies in a crystal cabinet and according to some who viewed him, he’s looking pretty waxy. Mao built the square to represent the might of communism and used to review troops of up a million people here. Appparently at his death, two million squeezed into the area. We walked the length of the square, taking in the paired flags flying at intervals – Chinese and Australian – to mark the state visit of Julia Gillard, the Australian prime minister. At the far end of Tian’anmen Square is the Forbidden City, and the street which separates the square from the palace is where an intrepid demonstrator stood in front of an approaching tank and sparked off the incident which made headlines all over the world in 1989. I remember seeing Kate Adey reporting and ducking her head as shots rang out. The Chinese we spoke to stress that it was just a little incident, where only a few people got injured, and are inclined to ignore questions about it.


Way back in Russia, we met a guy called Neil who was travelling 3rd class on the train from Moscow, but hung around the Ozbus crowd because we’re such a fabulous group of people. Since then we’d bumped into him a couple more times – most recently in Ulaan Baator, where I discovered that while living in Perth, Australia, he’d actually spent the last couple of months visiting his mum in Barry! So we were amazed to literally run into him in crowded Tian’anmen Square. I took his photo and his mum’s address and will surprise her when I get home.



By this time I’d walked my legs off, and had no idea how much more we had ahead! That was when we entered the Forbidden City, so called because it was the imperial home of emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties, therefore off-limits to the masses for over 500 years. We walked up endless steps, through magnificent arches or ceremonial halls, down steps into the next courtyard, then up the next steps.. and so on, through pavilions and palaces, round the amazing Imperial Garden with its classical Chinese landscaping: stone rockeries, vegetation, pavilions and water features. I now know what to do with my wee patch of unusable side garden in Barry. The decorations were beautiful, on the wood of the pavilions, inside the rooms, at the sides of the walkways. Every inch that could be painted or tiled or covered in gold leaf, had been. And inside some of the buildings were the most beautiful murals, paintings, artefacts…. the sort of place you’d need to spend days exploring in order to do it justice.


By the time we’d walked through this massive palace, each part more beautiful than the last, my legs were giving out and I was ready for a more restful activity! We found the coach a street or two away, on the far side of the moat which surrounds the palace, and were off for the final jaunt of the day. Shattered by this time. Walked miles….



And so, on to the next part of the tour, which was pretty leisurely – in twos, haring around the Hutongs of Beijing in a rickshaw. Such fun! Under a canopy behind a pedal bike – just like the samlors of Bangkok when I was a child. The Hutongs are the lanes of Beijing, usually lined with shops, barrows – anybody selling anything. The particular area we went along is one of the last real traditional Chinese communities left in the city. Many hutongs have been razed to the ground in order to modernise the city. That means building high rise offices and flats. Similarly, the ancient city walls were destroyed to make way for more traffic-friendly ring roads. Let’s hope they halt this programme of expansion before more of old Beijing is lost. We paid a visit to a fairly ramshackle house in this area and talked with the owner, who described his house, family, way of life and the price his house would fetch nowadays. About the equivalent of £2m! Then we were taken to a new area which is being developed as a new shopping precinct – but very attractive and keeping to the scale of the old hutongs.

Very relieved to get back to the hotel after such a busy day. I took some photos from the bedroom window of Tian’anmen Square lit up at night. Very pretty, and so glad we’re in such a central position. You walk out of the door of the hotel and are in the midst of the bustle of this lovely city. And there’s a 24-hr indoor ATM at the end of the street!

…and into Mongolia

19th April – Next leg of the journey – to Ulaan Baator

At 9pm we were off, back to the station, down the steps, up the steps and onto the train. This time we had lovely Mongolian attendants who were friendly and helpful. It made such a difference – as did the cool temperature on board.

Well, a reasonable night’s sleep, then the usual activity on board: photographing out of dirty windows..! There was no dining car this time so we were confined to our compartments – not so bad for such a short journey. We’d been warned that the border crossing could take hours, but personally I didn’t expect 5 hours at the Russian border (the first three of which we sat in the station and no one appeared….lunchtime?) followed by another two hours 17 kilometers down the line at the first Mongolian station on the line. One of the highlights of the Russian border crossing was the female officer in mini skirt and killer heels; and another was the sniffer dog they brought on the train – a poodle! There was a lot of knocking on compartment walls and unscrewing wall panels in the corridors – and lifting the carpet and opening up a floor cavity – before we were finally allowed to get on with the journey. And all this time, no photos allowed. At least not on the Russian side.

After the stifling heat of sitting at border stations, we now had paralysing cold when we tried to sleep. I ended up getting fully dressed and making coffee in the early hours. The samovar was still bubbling away! We finally arrived in Ulaan Baator at about 6am, were met by lovely hostel owners – the Golden Gobi hostel – and taken there, given breakfast, showers and a bed to relax on, before the tour which they’d arranged to a local monastery. They really were the best hosts! While I showered, behind a simple curtain at the foot of the stairs, with a shower missing its showerhead, one of the family who run the hostel asked if all was OK. I replied that there wasn’t a showerhead but I was doing fine with the hose, whereupon she asked if she could see…I replied I was showering! and she commented: ‘I’m a woman too,’ before walking staright in. What can you say!

So this is the fabled Ulaan Baator!
Land of Biggles’ adventures! Now I’m showing my age…for those that don’t know, Biggles was a pilot – I think in the first World War – who had adventures all over the globe. One book I remember reading was ‘Biggles in the Gobi Desert’ or something similar. It fired my imagination and I always thought the Gobi and Mongolia were places I’d never get to – so far off the beaten track as to be virtually impossible. But here I am!

Our tour to the local monastery – a beautiful spot, with traditionally decorated buildings and temples, people worshipping, boys chanting in the temple, monks scurrying to and fro, pickpockets doing their business, children selling seed for the pigeons. We had a very good guide who answered all our questions and made sure we got the best out of the experience. We saw a magnificent golden Buddha and the best, most complex Mandala I have ever seen. I can see what sort of influence Buddhism has had on the Buryat people who moved north from Mongolia to Russia – mixing their faith with a helping of more pagan shamanism.

After the monastery, we spent some time in Suhbaatar Square with its massive statue of Ghenghis Khan dominating the area. While we were there, we witnessed a peaceful demonstration of nomadic Mongolians, complete with their Gers and horses, raising awareness of the lack of government support given to the nomadic people who provide the entire population with all their meat and dairy products. Apart from banners and flags, they did not proclaim their case, remaining dignified and proud. They would stand around in small groups, talking earnestly; a few policemen stood at the perimeter, but also looked peacable and friendly.

The day ended with lunch in a nice restaurant, a bit of shopping in a tourist shop and then in the State Department store near the hostel, and another meal in the Green Olive. I’m amazed that I can get food in a country I was told was all mutton – but apparently they ship in all their vegetables from China or Russia. Nothing grows in the sandy, fine dust of Mongolia. Just grass and crocuses as we found out the next day at the Ger in Terelj National Park.