Mongolia > Celebration in Choibalsan

Today we decide to drive “only” as far as Choibalsan. Continuing on to the next large city at the border would be over 200 kilometers further, which seems a bit too much. This means we take it easy today. The girl who manages the rooms indicated with gestures that the road on the south side of the river is better than the continuation of yesterday’s route. She even seems to be talking about asphalt. Just as we’re about to leave, she runs up with Wilco’s passport—he had left it in the room. An essential item for the continuation of the trip. Just outside the village, a new road is indeed under construction. The freshly paved section is carefully cordoned off so that no traffic can use it yet. We continue along the dirt path. A little further on, where there’s no asphalt yet, we manage to slip onto the road. After a few kilometers, we encounter a sand barrier. It doesn’t seem too high, so we carefully drive over it.

Mongolia - Next to the Russian monument Mongolian victims are also commemorated

Further along, a roller is blocking the road. The man positions it crosswise across the road as we approach—a clear signal. We turn back to the dirt path. After a few kilometers of bumpy driving, there’s an official entrance. We get onto a beautiful asphalt road. The last eighty kilometers to Choibalsan are a joy to drive. Around midday, we arrive in the provincial capital. In World War II, fierce fighting took place here between the Japanese and the Russians. The Japanese were defeated by Stalin’s army. On the outskirts of the city stands a large statue honoring the Russian victims. It’s busy at the monument and at the racetrack behind it. It seems there’s some kind of celebration in the city. The city center is also busy despite the hot, oppressive weather. Unfortunately, the Danrig Danjaalin monastery is closed. In the past, over eight hundred monks prayed here daily. After the monastery was destroyed by the communists and recently rebuilt, only twelve monks remain. Since we had a late and hearty lunch, we decide to just have a beer in the evening. The streets are still crowded. Many people are noticeably drunk. As we walk back to the hotel, we hear music. At the central square, at least a thousand people are gathered around a stage. Various local singers perform, some with karaoke lyrics on the big screen. Unfortunately, it begins to drizzle. The celebration is probably connected to the World War II battle. We don’t stay too long because we want to leave early tomorrow. Back in the room, we hear fireworks. From our window, we can just barely see the display.