It was Christmas and I was home alone looking out of the window of an unknown apartment in Ulaanbaator. I saw how a family was loading their presents into the car, the children laughing and dad dressed as Santa. I must admit that I had a lump in my throat of not being in trusted surroundings for the holidays.

In the supermarket I felt anxious and insecure. I was afraid to get lost and freaked out if anyone was coming too close to me.

Finally home. I had booked an apartment for three weeks, in order to rest and rejuvenate from all this moving around. It felt weird to be alone after having all these wonderful creatures constantly around me, so I needed to find a solution. This house was too big for me.

My Christmas dinner consisted of rice with soy sauce and due to the hour difference, it was impossible to Skype with my family.

Oh, the misery!
Convincing myself it is a part of travelling, I did not want to give up.

This is not my city, but I opened my apartment for every lonely soul out there.
I soon had my first request from a Singaporean guy and later that day I met two French and a Brazilian.
All of a sudden, my house was full of people I had never seen before.
It remembered me of the countless sporadic times in Brussels.
We were smoking up the living room, the beer and vodka flooded richly and we hit the club.

We were guided by the cutest local in the world. She brought us to Gandan Live House where we had a quite chaotic night. It started out with a live concert, followed by a DJ playing awful Techno, then a cover band, then some more “DJ-ing“ and on top of that, they started playing Metal. Amazed and convinced this is what Mongolians understand under 'clubbing', we soon wanted to get out of there.
The hours passed quickly and I woke up in an apartment where hungover bodies were covering almost every piece of pillow they could find.

Everyone liked to stick around, just like home. Traditionally, we went to supermarket to buy everything we liked and promised ourselves to do only fun stuff ("alléén maar leuke dingen doen").
You gotta love collective hangovers.

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The day after we did an excursion which was the paragon of the fact that all the tours offered in Mongolia are total rip off's. We took three buses, walked for one hour, got in the back of a truck and rented horses. We drove with the horses through the Terelj National Park, visited the monastery and slept in a Ger for a total amount of 8,60 Euro. The guys must have paid about 14 Euro, since they ate dumplings too. The same tour got offered to me for about 150 Euro.

Guides are stupid.

We were an awesome team, but after four days the guys went to a ranch in the north to experience the nomad way of living. Since I have had that chapter already, I decided to spoil myself a little bit more with the luxury of my own place and a supermarket bulging out of choices.


The word was on the streets that I had no idea what to do for NY, so on the 30th someone contacted me to go clubbing together.
He gave me an address and armed with my teaser I entered club Temple. The venue was beautiful. It freshly opened the week before and the music was a bit more in the direction that I am used to in Belgium.
I danced my ass off and soon got to know every single soul in the club.

The day after I woke up with a heavy head, lying to myself that I would stay home for New Years Eve.
However, I must have been a bit overly social the night before, because the friend request were numerous and the offers not to ignore.

The owner of Temple came to pick me up in his fancy car. (white, the car was white)

God, I hate to sit in fancy cars.

The club was empty, and only staff members were eagerly cleaning the tables and setting up everything for the big night. We counted the last seconds of 2015, drank, ate and opened the night.
I was forbidden to pay for anything, so the bartenders needed to remember my face. I have spend nothing more than 0 Euro, drinking champaign, gin and even tequila all night long.
For the owner it was a fair deal, because I was the first one to hit the dance floor and get the party started.

I got to sit in the VIP whenever I wanted and before I knew it I was surrounded by big Tour company owners, miss Singapore and the elite of Mongolians who had the means to live in the US for a while.

Earlier that day I had been looking for a dress and some descent shoes, but the motivation was very low to enter in a shop, try something on and buy it. As a result I came home after two hours with nothing more than a roll of toilet paper.

Since my travel gear did not include a party outfit, I had to work with the options I was given, meaning that I looked like a bump with my big walking shoes and incredibly dirty Russian coat.

Even though I was ashamed about how I looked like between all the dressed up people, I got treated like a queen.
I am happy that I did not buy a cute dress, because god knows how the night would have gone otherwise.


Being the only blond European around, all eyes were pointing at me and the half of the club took his chance to hit on me. I didn’t get a break of enjoying the music, every minute someone was blocking my moves and even best friends were fighting over me. I was constantly surrounded by pushy horny men who totally messed up my mood.

The owner wanted me to point out who was annoying me, so he could kick them out. I did not want his whole club to be empty because of me, so I silently sneaked out with a beautiful woman who offered me a ride home.
Once again I embarked in a very fancy car (black, the car was black) and safe and sound connected with my bed for hours in a row.

Happy New Year everyone!