Voyage in Mongolia
What would you say to a voyage in Mongolia?
An idea of being a tourist in Mongolia
Lying down in the silver-green absinthe-scented steppe, I am contemplating the deep blue sky. A few clouds, white as sheep, emerge here and there. The Blue Mountains frame the horizon. To their right, I can see lakes: one mustn't be taken in: it is nothing but a mirage.
You can even see the images of the camels. that pass on the steppe reflected in it. What is a mirage exactly? The wind gleaming in the sun? Or is it the hot air rising? Or maybe the soul of a lake which dried-out seventy million years ago and is still haunting Mongolia. In an almost dream-like state, with thoughts going through my head with no real direction, I hear the noise of ruminants in the steppe. Gazelles? A herd of gazelles?
The meal prepared by our chef smells devilishly good. I am so hungry again now.