.jpg) Sadhus in Rishikesh
Sādhu – or “Good Men” – are emblematic of India. While they can be seen everywhere, they congregate in holy cities like Rishikesh. Rishikesh!
For me, that is a name that conjures up the sound of sitars, images of pastel-coloured Hindu Gods, and memories of songs from the Beatles’ post-hallucinogenic phase.
Can you believe it? It was 50 years ago, this February-past, that the Beatles followed their guru – their teacher – Maharishi Mahesh Yogi to his ashram in Rishikesh. With an entourage that included wives, girlfriends and selected reporters, the Fab Four joined students from all around the world – including singer-songwriter Donovan and actress Mia Farrow in an advanced course in the Maharishi’s techniques of Transcendental Meditation.
For the Beatles, the visit to Rishikesh marked their break from hallucinogenic drugs in favour of Indian spirituality and meditation practice. It was a period of great productivity for the band, but was also the beginning of the end – as each member of the group spent time honing his own individual artistic vision.
My visit to this north-Indian city in the Himalayan foothills beside the Ganges River was much more prosaic: I was with photographer Karl Grobl, local guide DV Singh, and a small group of photography-enthusiasts. We had a few afternoon-hours to walk around Swarg Ashram: the traffic-free, alcohol-free and meat-free enclave of temples and ashrams across the famous iron suspension bridges of Ram Jhula and Laxman Jhula from Rishikesh town-proper.
True to my expectations, the air was full of heat and dust, the smell of incense and cattle dung, and the sounds of chanting and sitar music. The streets were lined with shops and shrines and crowded with monkeys, beggars, and mystics.
Come for a walk with me in Rishikesh!
.jpg) Shiva on the Road
As we leave Haridwar for the short drive upstream along the Ganges to Rishikesh, a giant statue of the Lord Shiva watches over us. .jpg) Devotee in the Street
It is not uncommon to find Hindu devotees walking around the streets painted to represent one of the many Gods in their extensive pantheon.  Dressed as a Hindu God
The colour and the facial hair made me think this might be Hanuman, but other features don’t match so I really don’t know. Either way, he was happy to be photographed! Didgeridoos
I was surprised to see didgeridoos on sale at a local music store. The Bookstore
This bookshop was cram packed, with many offerings in English and other languages for visitors. Every Nook and Cranny
Wherever you look, statues, paintings, or other depictions of deities are nestled into every space. Sādhu
Sadhus are nomadic religious ascetics who have taken vows of chastity and poverty. The ash used in their face paint is sometimes from sacred fires, and is symbolic of their “death” from a worldly life. Laxman Jhula
The Laxman (Lakshman) Jhula, about 5 kilometres upstream from Rishikesh, is one of two almost-indistinguishable iron suspension bridges across the Ganges to Swarg Ashram where many of Rishikesh’s yoga and meditation centres are located. Trayambakeshwar from Laxman Jhula
The views from the bridge are wonderful. Trayambakeshwar Temple to the left, is a magnificent 13-story building dedicated to Lord Shiva. An Indian Couple
Visitors make sure they have their pictures taken as they cross the iconic landmark. Woman on Laxman Jhula
Many are happy for me to take their pictures as well. Women on Laxman Jhula Lord Shiva in the Fountain
According to stories, Shiva the Destroyer (who is one of the Hindu trinity) used to wander as a naked sage, which was somewhat distracting to the wives of several forest-dwelling rishis (hermits). The tiger skin he is often seen with is both a symbol of his animal power (and power over animals) and a means of reducing his distracting magnetism. Old Man in the Street Window of Icons
All manner of religious iconography can be found in the shop windows. Selling Papadum
You are never far from food! The Papadum Seller
This young woman was so beautiful and had such a lovely smile; I couldn’t help but wonder what her life was like – and what it would have been like if she had been born somewhere else. Baby Macaque
Small groups of macaques were on the lookout for opportunistic snacks. Sadhus and Beggers
Sadhus and beggars find shady spots to sit or squat with their bowls or hands out. Beggars Brahmā in a Niche The Chotiwala
For me, one of the most surprising characters in Swarg Ashram was the Chotiwala. Choti is Hindi for a tuft of hair kept at the back of the head that is never cut for religious reasons, so a ‘Chotiwala’ is a ‘Braided Man’. In heavy makeup, the Chotiwala sits in front of the restaurant of the same name, greeting people and ringing the bell over his head. Chotiwala
Actually, there are two Chotiwala and two Chotiwala Restaurants; they are next door to each other in this small, dark alley in Swarg Ashram. When the original owner died in 1990 and left the business to two sons, they could not get along. So, they split the property down the middle and both operated as if they were the only one. This dispute – and the two painted men sitting on stools smiling and ringing their bells within feet of each other – continues to this day.
So much for the peace and goodwill to be found in a community of gurus, yogis, and meditators! Home of the Gods Ram Jhula Bridge
We cross back over the Ganges via the newer suspension bridge – along with pedestrians of all kinds and the odd motorcycle. Cobras and the Rest
Religious figurines, pendants and various trinkets are laid out to tempt us at the other side. ॐ – Om
The sacred syllable ॐ – Om – is everywhere around us; sometimes called the “cosmic sound”, it is a spiritual icon in Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and Sikhism. Rafting on the Ganges
Giving rise to concerns about environmental protection, more tourists are coming to Rishikesh for trekking and rafting. Because the rafting camps are temporary and poorly regulated, they do not have adequate sewage and sanitation infrastructure, causing pollution. And, because the clientele are not there for yoga or meditation, they drink, take drugs, and disturb the tranquility of the forest and the spirituality of the river. Water Sport on the Ganges
I was amazed when I saw people swimming; these waters originate higher up, in the hills, mountains and glaciers of the Himalaya. How I would have loved to escape into one of the many yoga ashrams for a long course of study!
I came away from Rishikesh with mere baubles of bright impressions. A full appreciation of this holy centre of yoga- and meditation-study would take much more time.
Maybe one day!
Until then – ॐ – Om!
Photos: 19November2013
Posted in Architecture,environmental portrait,IndiaTags: animals,architecture,environmental portrait,environmental portraits,hindu,hinduism,India,travel,Travel Blog,Ursula Wall
Evening on Ballet Bay
As we worked our way up British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast, we stopped in for a peaceful overnight anchorage in Ballet Bay, on the north side of Nelson Island. “Cruising has two pleasures. One is to go out in wider waters from a sheltered place. The other is to go into a sheltered place from wider waters.”
– Howard Bloomfield
I’m not sure which I enjoy more: whipping across windy waters with our 38-foot Graystone on a comfortable low-heel, or being safely anchored or tied-up in one of the glorious spots available to us either side of British Columbia’s Strait of Georgia.
Being somewhat unskilled sailors, my husband and I like to err on the side of caution. When heading into new (for us) waters, we try to check the charts, the cruising guides, and our sailing mentors. We also err on the side of laziness: if our sailing mentors suggest we follow in their wakes, we jump at the chance of not having to do all the thinking ourselves!
And so it was, in beautiful late-June weather, we set out behind our friends’ 32-foot Catalina, Alaunia, to visit harbours and bays new to us, but familiar to them, on the northern end of the Sunshine Coast of southwestern British Columbia.
It was our third morning on the water: after crossing the Strait from our home-berth of Nanaimo, and overnighting in Hospital Bay, Pender Harbour and in Ballet Bay on Nelson Island (see: Strait Sailing Part 1), we had our headings set for Cortes Island at the upper limits of the Strait of Georgia. Even when the winds didn’t blow or when the rains fell, the coastal and island beauty we passed was breathtaking.
Join us for a motor-sail north into BC waters:
Alaunia leaving Ballet Bay
Early in the morning, we follow Alaunia as she motors gently out of Ballet Bay, … Boat on Ballet Bay
… past anchored cruisers and sleeping houses, … Alaunia
… and into Malaspina Strait. Sliammon Lands – Lund
We stopped into Lund, a small hamlet towards the northern-most end of BC’s Sunshine Coast Highway, for lunch and supplies. The traditional home of the Coast Salish people, this area has been inhabited for thousands of years. Lund Hotel
We loved the charming village so much that we stopped in again on our way back home by sailboat, and once more, when we were making our trip back to the mainland by land (i.e.: by highway and BC Ferries). Lund Watermill
The settlement was named for the city of Lund in Sweden by the Thulin brothers, who settled here from Sweden in 1889. Lund Harbour
Today, this unincorporated village provides safe harbour to small crafts, and is home to many shops and services catering to tourists and outdoor adventurers. Stone Steps at Nancy’s Bakery
Nancy’s Bakery is a favourite for locals and tourists alike; we enjoyed our freshly-baked lunch in the sun before continuing north. Into Desolation Sound
As we turn northeast towards Desolation Sound, the weather closes in. The bleak, overcast weather that greeted Captain Vancouver when he first explored this area in 1792 led to him giving it its name:
“Our residence here was truly forelorn; an awful silence pervaded the gloomy forests, whilst animated nature seemed to have deserted the neighbouring country, whose soil afforded only a few small onions, some samphire and here and there bushes bearing a scanty crop of indifferent berries. Nor was the sea more favourable to our wants, the steep rocky shores prevented the use of the seine, and not a fish at the bottom could be tempted to take the hook.”
– Captain George Vancouver Rain on the Strait
Fortunately for us, there is diesel in the tank, and our wet-weather gear is handy: inclement weather will not dull our enjoyment of a day on the water! “There is no bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.”
― Ranulph Fiennes Mountains all Around
(Three days later, as we are returning south, the Sound shows us how stunningly beautiful it can be … Islets in the Strait of Georgia
… under blue skies in good weather.) In Alaunia’s Wake
On our trip north, however, we are still under motor as we turn right into Desolation Sound … Boat on Desolation Sound
… and motor past the other leisure boats and towards Squirrel Cove. Seasonal Prawns
Once we are safely anchored in Squirrel Cove, we pull out the fresh prawns we bought straight off a fishing boat in Lund. They make a tasty addition to a simple dinner! Dinghy on Squirrel Cove
In the morning, we – like other visitors – have time to get the dinghies out. “Nexus”
We sneak past boats at anchor … Stream into Squirrel Cove
… to explore the foreshore of the bay … Mossy Rocks
… where cool waters tumble over the mossy rocks. Starfish on the Moss
Starfish are attached all over the shallow bottom, … Waters on Squirrel Cove
… clinging to the rocks in the fast-moving waters. Stream into Squirrel Cove Motor Cruisers on Squirrel Cove
Somebody always has a bigger boat! Squirrel Cove
Cortes Island is all First Nation territory; the little community of Squirrel Cove includes a trading post and a Christian church. We watch Squirrel Cove slip into the background as we head across the waters into the Desolation Sound Marine Provincial Park.
More about that some other time –
Until then,
Safe Sailing!
Pictures: 24-25June2015 and 03-04July2015
Posted in Canada,Nature,Sailing,TravelTags: boats,British Columbia,Canada,landscape,nature,Photo Blog,sailing,Strait of Georgia,travel,Travel Blog,Ursula Wall,waterscape
Bernina Express Train in Alp Grüm Station
Alp Grüm (2,091 m) is the first station south of the Swiss Alps. The sleek Bernina Express trains stop here briefly after (or before) crossing through the Bernina Pass. Riding the rails is magic!
I love travelling on trains – all trains. There is something special about the rhythmic rattling as you hurtle through a landscape, being both part of the countryside and cocooned from it.
How much more special is the rail experience when you are on a first-class scenic express train, travelling across an engineering marvel, through a UNESCO-World Heritage Listed landscape? The network of privately owned and operated Rhaetian Railway (RhB) lines in the Albula/Bernina area of Switzerland earned a UNESCO listing in 2008 because: “It constitutes an outstanding technical, architectural and environmental ensemble and embodies architectural and civil engineering achievements, in harmony with the landscapes through which [they] pass.”
The Bernina Express is a direct train from Chur in Switzerland, through the Swiss Alps, to Tirano in Italy. From Chur (585 m), the line climbs to an altitude of 2253 metres on the Bernina Pass, before dropping back down to 429 metres at Tirano; this requires countless spiral loops, 55 tunnels and 196 bridges – all build between 1898 and 1910.
My husband and I and our Swiss travelling companions broke our journey in Poschiavo to meet up with family friends. Join us for the first portion of our Bernina Express railway adventure.
Morning Rails
We had to get up early to meet our RegionalExpress service from Pfäffikon to Chur, where we would join the Bernina Express. Inside the Bernina
The rail carriages are modern and spacious. Rising Sun
As we start off south, the sun rises over the mountains near Chur. Church on a Hill
The view from our moving window is impossibly picturesque. The Tail of the Train
The morning light glints off the trees and makes reflections in the train windows as we watch our tail follow us around one of the many limestone viaducts. Almost Abstract – Trees in the Train Tiefencastel Station (884 m)
There are a few small stations on the Albula Railway line from Chur to St. Moritz; we stop in Tiefencastel to pick up a tourist group. The Conductor Almost Abstract – Impossible Bridges
We watch the front of of our train head towards the tunnel on the mountain opposite us. The natural dolomite lime pillars of the Landwasser Viaduct in Graubünden stretch across 142 meters, 65 metres above the rugged Landwasser Valley below. This impressive structure was built between 1901 and 1902, and constructed so well that the first renovations were not performed until 2009. “How Green is my Village?”
We come out of the tunnel and drop down to Bergün, a charming town set in impossibly green mountain meadows. This is the town that made international headlines in 2017 when it voted to ban tourist photography because it is “Too beautiful!”, and people seeing the pictures on social media would be jealous and unhappy. Not everyone appreciated the joke, but it certainly generated lots of free publicity! Bernina Mountain Goat
I am a Capricorn: I couldn’t resist buying myself an official Bernina mountain goat. Scene from the Train
Meanwhile, the beautiful alpine meadows continue to roll past our windows. In the Shadow of the Mountains
It is hard to imagine a more sublime location for ordinary housing. Inn River Valley
The mountain village of Pontresina, flanked by the Bernina Massif, is popular for hiking, biking, glacier walks and spa retreats. It is a stone’s throw from the luxury resort town of St. Moritz. Almost Abstract – “Selfie” Inside the Bernina Bernina Pass
Like the road beside us, we climb up again, … Train in the Bernina Pass
… across the Bernina Pass and towards Ospizio Bernina (2,253 m), the highest station on our route. Lej Pitschen (“Small Lake”) – Bernina Pass Walking Paths
Well-marked trails lead from Ospizio Bernina station past the tiny Lej Nair, … Lago Bianco
… along Lago Bianco (“White Lake”), and on to Alp Grüm. You can just see the dam at the other end of the glacial waters; water on this side flows back to the Inn River and empties into the Black Sea, while the water on the other side flows toward the Adriatic. Alp Grüm Station
We had a chance to alight from the train at the southern-most end of the Bernina Pass: Alp Grüm Station. This marks the southern border of the Romansh speaking part of the country; we will soon be in Italian-speaking territory. Trains at Alp Grum Station
As high as we are (2,091 m) already, the mountains rise steeply around us. Dreams of Snow-Dusted Alpine Peaks Alpine Meadow
Alp Grüm means “Alpine Garden”, which is a pretty accurate description of our beautiful surrounds. View from Alp Grüm Lago Palü
We have wonderful views over Lake Palü and towards the Vadret da Palü – the Palü Glacier – behind it. Trains in the Trees
Too soon we are back on the train, as it follows countless curves through the tall trees to descend into the Poschiavo Valley. Trains that Pass
We pass trains heading up hill; the Bernina Express trains run a full schedule in summer. Village in a Valley
We drop into the Poschiavo Valley, where lunch and a whole other adventure awaits us. Riding the Bernina Express through the Swiss Alps is an unbeatable experience. Our jaws were still dropped as we got off the train in Poschiavo where we would overnight before picking up the train again the next day for the last portion of the trip.
 Watch this space!
Until next time,
Happy Travels!
Pictures: 06August2014
Posted in Landscapes,Switzerland,TravelTags: landscape,nature,Photo Blog,railway,Swiss Alps,Switzerland,train,travel,Travel Blog,UNESCO,Ursula Wall
Poppies on on Garden Bay
Under an impossibly blue summer sky, boats sit in the protected waters of Hospital Bay, BC. “Any fool can carry on, but a wise man knows how to shorten sail in time.”
– Joseph Conrad
I’m not a great sailor: my favourite part of sailing is making a safe landfall.
This is especially true when the landfall is somewhere new and different, and when the sailing has been a bit fraught!
But, I do love being on the water, and I do love visiting new ports. (I have quoted Brooks Atkinson before: “Land was created to provide a place for boats to visit,” (see: On the Straits and Narrows).) So, when people who know the British Columbia waters around where our boat Graystone lives, suggest a trip in tandem, I jump at the opportunity.
Our friends and their 32-foot Catalina, Alaunia, were planning to head into the magnificent, but grimly named, Desolation Sound for several weeks of summer cruising. We didn’t have enough time for the whole trip, but organised to piggy-back on the first legs northeast from our home-base of Nanaimo into the Sound. My husband and I would then return home alone, while our companions continued deeper into the wild northern waters.
Our Graystone is a modest, gracefully-ageing 38-foot Hughes sailing sloop. Unlike our friends’ boat, the galley doesn’t run to overhead wine racks and a microwave oven, but she’s comfortable enough – provided I organise simple meals that can be prepared on two burners in minimal space. The beauty of travelling with another boat is that the planning – charting for landfalls, moorages, and anchor-spots – is reduced, and the preparation is almost halved: if we took turns making dinner, I’d only have to cook half as often.
Although we keep all the requisite charts on board, in this day and age of GPS’s, my husband and I both get a little haphazard with our map-reading. We rely (rather more heavily than we should) on the expertise of our friends, and then I turn to my Dreamspeaker Guides – delightfully illustrated cruising books – for detailed advice and information on our planned destinations.
Usually it works – and barring a few bumps or tears or bruises, we eventually make a safe harbour in one of the many glorious spots available to us along the Strait of Georgia.
Alaunia on the Strait of Georgia
The Strait of Georgia, between Vancouver Island and the mainland of British Columbia, provides endless sailing and cruising opportunities. When we first set out from Nanaimo behind our cruising companions in their Catalina, the winds were too light for sails. Setting Course
Before long, however, I have the sails up, and we are whipping across the Strait under wind-power. Wreck on the Harbour
Some six hours later, we finally limped into the protection of Pender Harbour. Contrary to Joe Conrad’s advice (above), we had not shortened the sails in time! We had also lost sight of our companions, missed our landmarks, and overshot the harbour entrance considerably in rough winds. As I said, we are not particularly good sailors.
Fortunately, thanks to mobile phone reception, we found our way back, and unlike this wrecked tugboat at the harbour entrance, we had only minor damage to our sails, which I mended before dinner. Hospital Bay
It’s still light at eight o’clock on a northern summer evening: we’ve told our tale and shared a meal. Our afternoon squall is soon forgotten, as the warming sun … Fisherman’s Marina
… and quiet waters of Hospital Bay in Pender Harbour sooth our ruffled feathers. Sunset on Fisherman’s Marina
There is nothing quite as peaceful as watching the sun set from the deck of a boat that is safely moored! Morning on Fisherman’s Marina
The sun rises early on the water; … LaVerne’s Grill
… and into the Garden Bay area of Pender Harbour. Poppies on Garden Bay
On the hill, the poppies are starting to bloom, … Garden Bay
… and quiet waters lie below. No Wake!
Late in the morning, we motored gently out of Pender Harbour behind Alaunia, … N3N Bi-Plane
… pausing to admire the bright yellow N3N bi-plane that – until a day after our trip – lived for twenty-five years on these waters. N3N Bi-Plane
A rare model equipped to land on water, this N3N was originally built in 1942 as a training plane by the U.S. Navy. It was bought by Bill and Wilma Thompson in 1990, and lovingly renovated and flown around Pender Harbour by Bill until his death. Before our visit, the plane had been sold to an operator in Yellowknife NWT, and it made its last flight out of here the very next day (see: The Coast Reporter). Ballet Bay
The winds north of Pender Harbour were much more forgiving than they had been the day before, and we managed a smooth and uneventful trip up the rest of the scenic Sunshine Coast, past the opening to Agamemnon Channel, and around to the protected north side of Nelson Island into the pristine and quiet Ballet Bay. Our Boats on Ballet Bay
With our boats securely anchored, we have plenty of time in the early afternoon to explore the bay in our dinghies. Dinghy on Ballet Bay
It would be almost a crime to break the peacefulness of the bay with a motor; the splash of the oars, on the other hand, just adds to the feeling of calm. Rocky Foreshore – Ballet Bay
The water is crystal clear, and changes colour dramatically in the afternoon light. Kayaks on Ballet Bay
As the sun goes down over Nelson Island, people take their kayaks out onto the quiet waters … Evening on Ballet Bay
… and enjoy one of the prettiest bays you could hope for. What a beautiful spot! And what a great place to enjoy a quite drink after a successful two days on the water before continuing north …
Until next time,
Safe sailing!
Photos: 22-23June2015
Posted in Canada,sailing,TravelTags: blog,boats,British Columbia,Canada,flowers,landscape,nature,Photo Blog,sailboat,sailing,travel,Travel Blog,Ursula Wall,waterscape
“Kugyershin Family Songs”
It is late in the day. Dinner is finished. We gather in a ger (yurt) in Western Mongolia and admire the beautiful felted and embroidered tapestries as we listen to traditional Kazakh music from Mister Kugyershin and his daughter – both dressed in their best Kazakh clothing.
(Double click for: Elkesh Herself by Kugyershin Family’s Songs)
It is said that if you want to see traditional Kazakh culture, you should go to Bayan-Ölgii province in Mongolia, rather than to Kazakhstan.
In the 1800s, the expanding Russian Empire pushed the semi-nomadic Kazakh tribes into neighboring countries, including Mongolia – where members of the Middle Jüz Kazakhs or Central Hordes (Orta juz) settled in the western-most province of Bayan-Ölgii. Under Stalin’s regime, more Kazakhs fled communist-controlled Kazakhstan. A small number returned to Kazakhstan after the Soviet Union dissolved and democratised, but for most of the 20th century, this pocket high in the Altai Mountains, nestled along the borders of China and Russia, has remained an isolated, tightly knit community.
Mongolian is a second language here, when people speak it at all. The 90,000-or-so ethnic Kazakhs continue to practice their Muslim religion and to speak their own language. With only about 2 people on every square kilometre, they have room to roam on their rugged ponies with their goats and sheep in a pastoral-nomadic lifestyle, and to train their captured golden eagles to hunt for them.
An extended family of eagle-hunters had set up a small ger-camp for us on their vast property. Hospitality is legendary in nomadic households: they say that if you come to a Kazakh home unexpectedly, (as it is across all the Mongolian Steppes), you will be received as if you had been invited. Of course, as “outsiders”, the group of photo-enthusiasts I was traveling with under the eye of local guides G and Segi, were paying for our accommodation, and had brought suitable gifts for our hosts.
It is a stark, serenely beautiful place, but you have to be pretty rugged to thrive.
Our Ger Camp
Our out-of-season gers were ready for us when we arrived in Bayan-Ölgii, Mongolia, after a bumpy six-day drive across half the county. Building a Camp
Gers, being portable, have no fixed facilities. Our organisers have brought in charcoal for our fires and still have to build us a toilet block. The New Shower
It was a few days before we had a generator-operated hot shower hooked up – which we really appreciated when it actually worked. Kazakh Homestead
After a morning of eagle-hunt training (see: Nurguli, Kazakh Eagle Huntress), we crossed the rocky plateau from our gers to the winter home of our Kazakh hosts: flat-roofed white-washed mud-brick rooms set behind fences built from the rocks and pebbles found in abundance all around. They might follow the herds with their ger camps in summer, but this is their permanent base. Golden Eagle
The eagles the Kazakhs chose to train are usually female, because females are much larger and therefore able to manage heavier prey. They are only ever semi-tamed, so that they can be returned to the wild after about ten years, to fend for themselves and reproduce. Therefore, they might be part of the household, but they are not pets. When they are not working, they are hooded to keep them calm and tied up to keep them captive. Three Kinds of Yogurt
Inside the house, we are welcomed with a hot mares’ milk drink and snacks. With herds of goats, sheep and horses, dairy products are a staple here. Those crispy-looking things in the centre of the table are dried yogurt; the spreads are thickened yogurt-based concoctions; and then there are slices of hard cheese … I can’t say I enjoyed any of it! Sarkhad and his Hot Milk
Our host Sarkhad is the patriarch in this extended family complex. He has four sons, two of whom live here in the compound and hunt eagles with him, and two of whom are “in the city” pursuing other interests. Sarkhad
As a Kazakh Muslim, Sarkhad keeps his head covered. At home, he wears a tobetai, an embroidered, felted skullcap. When we were out with him eagle hunting, he was wearing his magnificent malakai – a fox-fur hat with earflaps (see: Nurguli, Kazakh Eagle Huntress). Hunters Coming Home
As we are drinking our milk, two of Sarkhad’s sons and his granddaughter – all of whom have been out with their eagles – return to the compound. The Hunters are Home …
“Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.”
Of course, the Robert Louis Stevenson poem is a Requiem, while these hunters are full of life! Golden Eagle Tethered at Home
The animals need to be tended before the returning hunters can have their lunch. Kazakh Host
Using our guide as an interpreter, Sarkhad explains some of the aspects of eagle-capture and training … Tressing the Eagle
… while his sons Jakslak … Looking after the Animals
… and Razdak look after their eagles. Kazakh Flat-Roofed House
We had a generator powering our bare-bulbs on wires and charging our batteries; the Kazakh home (and nomad gers typically) makes do with solar panels. The fox drying on the pole is from yesterday’s hunt. Yagaanaa
Fortunately, we didn’t have to survive on horse-milk yogurt: we travelled in style, with our own wonderful chef, Yagaanaa. After another long day, when the meals were cleared away, she joined us in appreciating the local culture: … “Kugyershin Family Songs”
… Kazakh songs, with accompaniment on traditional dombra, plucked lutes with two horsehair strings. Music and songs are a part of a strong tradition of oral history. Night Skies
One of the advantages of using an outhouse in the middle of a cold late-Autumn night, is that you have a chance to appreciate the expansive Mongolian skies!
(ISO1600 18mm f/3.2 30sec – tripod + headlamp for “light painting) Tender Dawn
On our last morning in the camp, I was up early. I had a sense of why the nomads love this wide, open land as I watched the sun rise over the Kazakh homestead in the distance. Flying over the rugged landscape back to Ulaanbaater – a four hour flight that we had taken six days to drive – I could further appreciate how truly isolated these nomadic tribes are. No wonder their lifestyle has changed little over the centuries!
Until next time,
Happy Travels!
Pictures: 28September-03October2016
Posted in environmental portrait,Every Day Life,Mongolia,musicTags: animals,bird,blog,environmental portrait,environmental portraits,Mongolia,people,Photo Blog,travel,Ursula Wall
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Beautiful & filled with colour
Thanks! I’d go back any time…