Wendy blogs well and I was giddy she had me along for the ride:
It started out badly. Like we got lost before we got outta town and I’m not kidding one bit.
Curt thought it was my fault and I…didn’t. The GPS on my phone and I weren’t getting along.
It got better. (We’d left the kids sleeping in their beds for heaven’s sake–what was the matter with us?)
Curt was an absolute dear about stopping so we could snap up landscapes which were begging to be shared with you.
No–he really was.
This is Son Kul.
Where the only hotels are yurts.
Which are apparently amenities when you stay in a yurt because the goat leg with fermented mare’s milk-making utensils was hanging right inside the door.
Side note: It was cold enough that after dark, a young man hauled a sled full of horse manure to our door, started a fire in our reliable little stove, and shoved in copious amounts of said sled fuel. He returned a half hour later to refuel. We were thankful.
We rollicked and rolled ’til the generator shut down and the single light bulb flickered and went out. We covered our heads with heavy tushuks and prayed we wouldn’t have to use the outhouse in the dark. (Well I prayed that.)
Thespians are rarely morning people.