A rest day spent in Kharkhorin – once the capital of the vast Mongol empire, it’s a lot less central to world affairs these days. Between organising our last week in Mongolia, catching up with loved ones, and bike maintenance, there was plenty of time to walk around and see what was about.
Ger ceiling, not as elaborate as some – but still much nicer than the inside of my tent.
Derelict industrial buildings always intriguing to me.
Strolling down to the old walled complex once home to scores of monasteries – since the Soviet occupation, not so much.
Most of the second ring of new shop buildings still sitting empty. But we did find a good cafe.
Apparently the coffee was good, but the wild rhubarb (of which we’d seen a bit in the hills) pie was of greater interest to me.
Just a small section of the wall of old Kharkhorin.
And a small part inside the walls – was staggeringly vast all up.
Not all the temples were lost, we could go inside some – but no photos.
For big prayers.
Didn’t work out what the occasion was, but good fun watching these guys enjoying themselves.
Finally found some postcards, and a lot of stamps! Back of the cards may have been mostly stamps…
Still loving the meat pockets…
Supermarket shopping a bit challenging – unless one wanted to buy a lot of candy.
We rode ten kilometres or so out of town to stay the night with a family in their ger camp.
First a stop at the big monument to the Mongol empire and Mongolia that we’d seen on the top of a ridge from the other side of the river on our ride into town.
Small empire.
Kharkhorin.
Vast empire.
Heading down there to stay on the true right of the Orkhon.
Yes, another ger. At least the hard beds were less of an issue after having gotten somewhat used to sleeping on the ground when my camping mattress failed.
A bit of wrangling so that we could go for a ride. Turned out to be more of a walk, but one of the adult sons of the family had spent time in New Zealand – so could chat with him a bit easier than most locals.
More homemade dairy goodness.
Ian and I managing to not fall off horses – the first time either of us had ridden one for many years. But as it was so slow, it was very easy going.
Nice evening for wandering the river flats though.
Plenty of the expected big open spaces apparent on approach, we’d find later that the fences were an exception to the norm.
UBN – bigger than I was expecting.
First bicycle sighted?
Our ride to the city.
Three bike boxes fitted in here, thankfully, with a little thought.
Ian keeping an eye on things as we venture into the traffic, note the plush ceiling covering. Unfortunately the suspension was not so.
Big empty highway most of the way into the city.
Few big coal power plants in the city contributing to the notorious air pollution in the winter. At least they also pump hot water around the city.
Should have brought a bigger wallet. About two thousand togrogs to a New Zealand dollar. 
The timing of an official visit from Japan seemed serendipitous.
Wedding party.
Walking back streets through tower blocks looking for a map store.
Annoyingly, the map store was no longer where it was marked on Maps.
Found it eventually – very near to our hostel. Through the language barrier, some paper maps of where we were intending to ride were purchased.
Cape Kidnappers from the end of my street.
Guess I won’t be downtown for
Those three houses always catch my eye from afar.
Looking back towards my little corner of the hill.
There’s still a little bit of work for these tugs…
The cliffs I was on top of last week above the container ship.
Go get it!
Got it.
Over Ahuriri fuel storage, the estuary, and Poraiti towards the Kaweka Ranges.
Those cliffs.
A touch of the old sawtooth warehouses.
Indeed.
Proper decent rope swings; it was not easy jumping off makeshift platforms onto the ropes – great fun but.
We wound our way downtown, pausing briefly to check out some murals and numerous eels slithering around another stream.
Down to the coastal pathway, near the infamous Wind Wand – this is about the only thing I remember about New Plymouth from my university holiday job in South Taranaki – it was the topic of much conversation in the smoko room.
Jacqui, Dan, Adele and James just before heading west on the pathway.
Passing the port, we rode up towards the base of Paritutu Rock.
Atop, we looked out over Sugar Loaf Islands and could just spot some offshore platforms.
East we looked along the coast, past the port and a disused power station.
Floating roof tanks! Oh, and the city. I rankled a little bit at the industry-is-ugly comments.
Hidden in the cloud was Mt Taranaki.
A little further west we enjoyed a bit of beachside riding – my legs were at least still good for cycling and some nasty little grassy pinch climbs.
Back towards Paritutu, note the sax player adding a touch of class to our seaside meal.
The slight detour back into town was unsuccessful in obtaining cronuts, alas; but this building is striking.
This striking bridge is even more so when the mountain behind us is not shrouded in cloud.