They have these cool Russian vans in Mongolia. Like the icecream, Mongolians think that anything from Russia is superior (excepting of course, occupation and nation wide hunger. Eighteen years later, the youth of Mongolia don’t really remember.)
We expected such a van when we emerged, bags packed, from our hostel. We were leaving Tsetserleg for the Great White Lake 180kms away. Instead we found a really dodgy brothers van, whose boot didn’t shut. We piled in, along with three others sharing the costs. Then two people introduced to us as ‘the driver’s brother’ and ‘the driver’s mother’ roll started it. Uh oh.