Mongolia's Naadam Festival

After nearly 2 weeks in the desert and steppes, we got back to UB (Ulaanbaatar) for the Naadam Festival – the Mongolian equivalent to the Olympic Games, featuring wrestling, horse racing and archery.

Day one was the opening ceremony which had all the pomp and ceremony you’d expect from such an occasion including a bit of a welcome by the country’s president who’d been elected the week prior. 

It was far more dazzling that we’d expected, with floats and the story of Mongolia’s history, from the beginning of man, (sprung from the union of a deer and wolf,) Chengis Khan (that’s not a typo – they call him Chengis) who conquered half the known world including Europe as far as Germany, through to their period of Soviet influence that only concluded in 1990, to present day. There were traditional performers, rock stars, the lighting of the flame, horses, warriors, doves, balloons- it had it all.

I asked our guide if he was impressed, to which he rightly quipped ‘not as impressed as you!’

Like hot cross buns at Easter, they have ‘meat pies’ for the festival period and they’re delicious! They cost about $1 each and have ground meat contained within a light pastry-like bread, fried and served with soy sauce.

Okay - it doesn't look great -  but it was!!

Day 2 was an early start to get out of town to the horse race. We saw the 5 year old horses that trot out and then race back – 25kms!! They’re ridden by kids – some the same age as the horses, some bare back. It was as crowded as a music festival with people who were camped out there for days, pop up markets, food stalls and games like shooting basketballs to win a cuddly toy. Kind of like Moomba, Falls and the Royal Melbourne Show rolled into one.

Note all the camps in the background. It was insane!

The Police went on for at least a kilometre

We found spot ‘On the Rails’ quite a way from the finish because it’s so crowded as locals vie to get to the winning horse to wipe its sweat on them to bring good luck for the next year. Ew. The police presence was enormous, with a cop positioned every couple of metres to make sure the crowd stayed behind the barrier. They seemed pretty friendly.

On The Rails - sans Veuve Clicquot!

The winners race through.

Once the horses shot by, we headed back to the main stadium to catch the wrestling. (That sounds so straight forward but there were thousands of people leaving and the traffic was grid-locked – exactly like trying to get away from A Day on The Green music concert…) We’d seen the archery at a stop out of town so we'd already ticked that box. The wrestling is actually pretty good spectator sport! In fact, I also learnt some of the best Sumo wrestlers are, in fact, Mongolian. Who'd have thought?

Wrestlers - they do an eagle dance before every battle - it's pretty cool

So all in all, I’d recommend Mongolia. It was really fun and very different.

Next stop; Bhutan.

The weekend of contrast

Talk about extremes.

Saturday was Derby Day of the Spring Racing Carnival (horse races). Some friends and we hosted a car park On The Rails - an enclosure right on the track available only to members and their guests. It was a perfect day in every sense. The weather was magnificent, mid 20s, sunny and only a cool, light breeze late in the afternoon at the day's warmest. The roses were blooming and the French champagne following. 

The chicken sandwiches, pea and feta tartlets, eye fillet, salads (including edible flowers), brownie, slices, fruit platter and chocolates were all exquisite (if we're allowed to say that about our own catering!). We had a long table set up under shade, with a white cloth adorned with fresh flowers.

Geoff and I invited friends we've known for more than 30 years and the friends of our co-hosts were fabulous and engaging company as well. Other friends popped by to say hello, have a drink and ask if anyone was winning on the horses. It was, as always, an extremely convivial event.

We got home and raised a glass with our friends (and some neighbours who we lured in to join us!) to a hugely successful day.

It's the kind of carnival that attracts millions of dollars in sponsorship, corporate and private entertainment, gambling, horses and fashion, with people coming and going in cars, trains, boats, limousines and helicopter.

In stark contrast, on Sunday night, Sass and I headed out with Avalon Centre - the organisation that distributes clothing, bedding and toiletries to the homeless. The afternoon, when we'd sorted and packed the buses, was warm and windy but a cool change had come through and it was cold and raining intermittently. 

We usually see people who are hard up - of course - but Sunday was worse than usual. There was a 9-year old girl with her mum, getting a meal from the organisation that puts on a dinner in the park and a pink coat from Avalon to protect her from the cold wind.

I chatted to a gorgeous girl with an apparent ice addiction who was quite happy and gregarious only to slink over later and apologise for being 'sloppy' in front of Sass, who she hadn't realised had been within ear shot when she'd been mouthing off about something. She was so down on herself it hurt to hear her grovel for forgiveness. Sass and I assured her no offence had been taken and all was fine. She seemed to spring back a little.

There were a couple of softly spoken indigenous women, one with bare feet on the cold pavement. That was a problem we could fix. There was a polite young guy with nothing but the few clothes he was wearing and an impolite woman from Europe who was demanding, insistent and trying to take things that weren't on offer.

One of the Avalon buses outside Flinders Street Station

I don't know why, but there seemed to be more people than usual, drunker, dirtier and more drug affected. The smell of stale urine was more apparent and the language less tempered. There was a bit of agro and a few police. It was cold and we ran out of blankets early.

A woman was looking for some feminine clothes and we couldn't find anything to fit the bill. We checked the shoes - nothing there either. As I repacked the tub, I spotted a pair of almost new orange sandals - bang! I walked up and down the street but couldn't find her - it ruined my night.

I thought back to the apologising young woman at the first stop. She explained she'd been drinking all day. In truth, I'd been drinking for much of the day before. Same, same but so very, very different.