Mongolia
Using hand gestures, and helped by my helmet, we managed a conversation. The shaven-headed young rider warned me of danger ahead.
“The track divides about fifty kilometres north of Sainshand. You must take the road to the left. If you go right, you could come across some robbers with rifles, waiting to steal your money.”
“Mongolia, so fine. Mongolia, so fine.”
Mongolia was ‘fine’. Surely I had no need to worry about anything like that? I naively persisted in saying so, but he simply repeated, “There are good Mongolians and there are bad Mongolians.” I was intimidated by the terrifying expression in his eyes. (from "Against the Wind" - Poolbeg Press)
