Monastery of the Unpronounceable Name

Isprinted off the bus with my daughter the second it wheezed to a halt in the rubble-lined parking lot. With gasps of relief, she ran behind the nearest bush and emptied her bladder. It was a fitting end to a journey that I had predicted would take four hours and that ended up lasting eight. The entire route had been under construction, every rocky, bumpy, dusty kilometer. At least it was serviced by public transportation, which is infrequent or absent on many routes in Mongolia. We were in Darkhan now, the third largest city in the country, with a population of about 84,000. It is due north of the capital of Ulaanbaatar and just south of the Russian border. It was August 2019, and, unbeknownst to us, our Mongolia trip would be the last one for a while, given the lockdowns that would soon seize the world. <a href="https://medium.com/in-living-color/monastery-of-the-unpronounceable-name-130a133a5d00">Visit Now</a>