Mongolia

Three Years and Counting

June 30, 2010

Like old-aged pensioners huddled around a domino table, we travellers are not adverse to measuring our lives in days. Indeed, today marks the 1098th day — or three year anniversary — since I strapped on my seatbelt and took off from London Heathrow.

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Me and My Mongol

April 15, 2010

They were crammed in like broken string puppets in a dusty backstage box; elbows twisted around ankles, and their shoes a peculiar mishmash of colours.

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Trails of the Unexpected

September 4, 2009

I stare at the newspaper. It wasn’t me. I gawp at the television. It wasn’t me. I trawl through the internet. It wasn’t me! I listen to the radio, podcasts, and conversations on the bus. It WASN’T me! At least — I hope it wasn’t me?

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The Reprint: ‘A Boyhood Dream’

February 12, 2009

No Nike rucksack. No TMNT pencil case. No “I Heart Your Mum” scrawled crudely across an exercise book. No crumpled timetable. No line for chips and coke at lunch. No wallsy at break. No hour of “là où est la piscine”, or two hours of trigonometry. This weeks Reprint image is brought to you from [...]

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The Reprint: ‘Taj. You’re It.’

December 10, 2008

Zoom in a bit, in a bit more, more, more, out a bit, a touch more. Now focus. Slowly does it. Breath. Easy on the trigger. Look around the frame. Zoom in a bit. In a bit. In a bit. Breath. And. Wait for it. Shoot! Snap? Click? Damn it. Turn it on. Refocus. Pan [...]

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A Thousand Glorious Times

July 4, 2008

I’d seen him from a short distance, twelve months previously, he travelled alone aboard a plane to Moscow. He wore a dark tracksuit top zipped over a light t-shirt, and loose pale green shorts covered the knees he cradled by his chest. His hair sprayed out in loose brown curls beneath a khaki cap, highlighted [...]

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A Mongolian Milky Way

July 20, 2007

“I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic!”, I’ll never forget these ghastly lyrics. An hour previous, I was sitting in a ger in the Mongolian countryside just to the west of Ulaanbaatar, politely accepting the offer of a bowl of airag (fermented mares milk) from our generous host. Not [...]

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