Travel is hard work sometimes

I waited outside the hotel this morning for my ride, and when it was 10 minutes late, I was too anxious to wait longer. I walked over to the taxi stand (yes, it turns out there are taxis here, they're just incognito), and said "airport?" to the two drivers standing there. This precipitated a discussion where I tried to find out how much and the driver kept saying "aeroport, " even going so far as to start spelling it on his phone. At that point I said yes, yes, and reached over and hit the number key on his phone. So he held up ten fingers (for 10,000 tugrik) and I pretended to be aghast and laughed, telling him I only paid 2 (two fingers) to get here from the airport. Then he entered 8,500 in his phone and I took it and entered 5,000 and made a 'let's go' motion that I've had used on me before. He took it, laughing and talking to the other driver.

I know I still overpaid, but that's the price of being the foreigner, at the mercy of the only ride to the airport at 7:20 am.

To check in, I waded through the crowd at the only counter, and pointed to my name on the list, handing over my passport. My bags were weighed (17 kilos) and I was in like flynn. Except for security, where they scanned my bags three times and then wanted to take my tweezers and fingernail clippers. I objected and they conceded- this would not happen in the US!

We stopped over in Khovd, where a man in a stretcher was put on the plane, and a couple of Buddhist monks joined us, then on to UB without incident. I entertained myself taking photos out the window on the way to UB.

UB traffic is insane. It took us 1 1/2 hours to go less than 10 miles! I was getting really antsy by the time we got to the hostel, and then I needed to work out some onward details with the owner. I was impatient and frustrated, and by the time I left, in a hurry to make the 6 pm show at the National Theatre, I was in a foul mood. Then it occurred to me that the only food I'd had today was part of a cold cheeseburger on the plane this morning, and I had to laugh at myself.

The show was great, it included a lot of traditional dancing, throat singing and other singing, the National Orchestra, which plays traditional Mongolian instruments rather than conventional ones, and sounded fantastic, some pretty scary shamanist dances, and a contortionist that was incredible and really hard to watch as a result. I stopped to buy a DVD in the lobby afterward, but I had no US dollars with me, and not enough tugrik for the DVD and dinner, and- well, it had been a long time since that cold cheeseburger.

It seemed like a good time to have a Singapore Sling, so I did.

I stopped by Sukhbaatar Square on my way home-behind this structure is the national parliament. 

Your day is just beginning, and mine is in the books.