After a 13 hour overnight bus, we arrived in the town of Murun, in northern Mongolia. With heavy eyes we began wandering around the sleepy town in search of an area where shared taxis depart – but it seemed to be a lost cause, and everyone we asked just tried to call a taxi friend. 

So we headed up another lonely road when an old man stopped beside us in his Toyota Prius and asked where we were heading. “Khatgul” we said, accidentally pronouncing the silent K which led to a lot of confusion. 

Then he replied “Hatgul?” Which sounded pretty similar, so we asked how much. After a little bartering he agreed to take us on the nearly two hour journey to the lakeside town. We passed endless green landscapes dotted with nomads who lived in gers and herded yaks and goats. 

Khatgul sat on the southern shores of Khuvsgul Lake which holds 70% of the countries fresh water and stretches a whopping 136km. Our plan was to continue along the western coast of the lake to a ger camp where we’d lined up a volunteering position. 

We were supposed to be picked up, but our host was too busy and suggested a taxi – or hitchhiking, which he said would be easy, so we picked the latter as the day was still young. 

The third car to drive past ended up pulling over for us and inside was a lovely couple from the capital who were on holiday. The lady spoke amazing English and said they were driving around in search of fresh airag which is fermented horse milk. She said it’s supposed to help with coughs and she had a persistent one she wanted to heal. It’s a drink that I absolutely despise and my gag reflex hits every time I try it – but Mongolians love the stuff. 

The couple insisted on driving past their accommodation to take us to the door of ours, which was ever so sweet – and they wouldn’t accept any money from us at the end of the journey. 

The camp we’d be volunteering at had a mix of gers (Mongolian yurts) and wooden cabins to rent to tourists. It was set on the shores of the pristine lake with a mountain backdrop and yak grazing the land. 

Our host was a really sweet Mongolian guy, but he was almost too nice, saying yes to every person who applied to volunteer. So as the number of volunteers grew, he started to become concerned about supplying the volunteers with food. Eggs and coffee were suddenly not allowed anymore and that upset a lot of people. 

So we mostly lived off bread and jam for breakfast and then the main ingredients we had were rice, noodles, carrots, potato and chicken – cooked in slightly different ways – but always bland. 

When a few people got sick we started to wonder if we were suffering from scurvy, it was said in a joking manner but we did had a lot of symptoms to match the condition and absolutely no fruit in our diet to boost our vitamins. 

To be honest we didn’t know if we’d last much longer than a week at the camp, but there was something enchanting about the place that ended up keeping us there for over a month. 

Wildflower-filled meadows surrounded the camp, while thick pine forest climbed the hills until they rose so high that the peaks became bare and rocky. I adored wandering through the meadows and forest behind our camp. When the sunlight pierced through the trees, everything took on a magical quality—it felt as though we were walking through a fairytale.

We did a couple of walks up the ridge-line behind our camp, where we were surrounded by a kaleidoscope of wildflowers. The route offered a spectacular view of the rocky mountains that looked white when the sun hit them. 

Craig was delighted to discover wild rhubarb growing alongside the river so he picked a large bunch and strapped it to his bag. When we got back to camp he made a delicious jam which gave us an exciting new condiment for our bread and some well needed vitamins. 

The work was easy and involved washing dishes, cleaning gers, serving guests food and cooking staff meals – which was a big job because at one stage we had 17 volunteers – I’d bake 10 loafs of bread and they’d barely last a day. 

There were only a few hours of work to do each day so the rest of our time was spent swimming in the cold lake, hiking, playing archery, card games and enjoying a huge bonfire at the end of the day.  

A nice Austrian guy who was obsessed with games introduced us to a really fun one that was similar to werewolf and we had to find the imposters in the group. There was a large room where 10-15 of us would take part and spend hours debating, lying and laughing. 

One of my favourite things to do in our time off was kayak on the pristine lake. The water was a stunning colour with such crystal clear water that we could see the stones and sand about 20m below us. 

Sometimes we’d come across yak taking a bath on the lakeshore and pooping in the water – which was a little concerning as the lake was our drinking water. 

When we weren’t in a kayak, we’d take evening strolls to herders camp and watch them milking their yaks. 

Our host purchased a bunch of quad bikes and asked if we wanted to go for a ride – to which we all said yes. After we agreed he casually said “My friend is going to take some promotional videos if that’s ok?” 

It meant we had to do a lot of photo stops, but we still had a lot of fun as we traversed through muddy puddles and raced each other. 

The end of the track offered a grand view of the mountains and lake, and we were asked to park up in a line and stand on the quads while releasing coloured smoke bombs. While we waited in position we began reading the safety label on the smoke bottles which said things like ‘Do not hold once toggle has been pulled’ but before we finished reading the instructions he shouted to pull the triggers as the drone flew up to record us being coated in multicoloured paint powder. 

My 37th birthday was spent at the camp, so we celebrated with a hike up the river valley followed by an afternoon watching a moody storm rolling through. The sun was shinning at the same time, turning the lake turquoise and bringing along with it vibrant rainbows. 

Our Australian friends made a brilliant birthday pavlova with a twist – instead of cream (due to not having any available) they used yak yogurt and the fruit was all from fancy glass jars that were sold in the local minimart. 

We were having so much fun at the camp that we just kept extending our stay until we needed to apply for a visa extension. It literally felt like a summer camp for adults from around the world, and everyday was full of laughter.

After a month at the camp it was time for us to say goodbye to our friends at the camp and leave Mongolia. A Swiss couple ended up driving us to the town with the bus stop as it was on their route. They’d hired a rental car for Mongolia and said every time they started a day of driving they played ‘On The Road Again’. 

So we had it blasting out the speakers, as our friends waited at the exit to wave us off. It was such a wholesome goodbye, with our Japanese friend bowing, the Mongolian family waving from the balcony and our Turkish friend throwing a bowl of water on the road behind us – a symbolic gesture to wish us a smooth, obstacle free journey.