Picture this: I get off my horse’s back and plant my feet in lush green grass. My back is aching from the short, yet pretty rough horseback ride. A ride that is the opposite from the ones back home. This might be due to the different saddle, but my guess is that it has to do with the interaction I have (or the lack of it) with my horse. You simply ride these tough horses in a different way than the trained horses back home. The fact that the horse hardly listens to the instructions I give him through my hands, weight, legs and voice but immediately obeys when its owner even slightly whistles is not much of an encouragement. I don’t mind. I’m in the middle of Mongolia, mingling with true nomads and savouring the culture and panoramic views of this country. A country where you’re surrounded by emptiness, mountains and eagles.
While I’m facing a perfect waterfall, my guide and owner of the horse is taking a rest. A fellow nomad accompanies him. It is hard not to imagine them contemplating over life…something the Mongolian landscape seems to enforce upon you. *Click!*
