Another Friday arrives in Ulaanbaatar, in Mongolia that means only one thing: The Steppe Inne. The British Ambassador opens his bar each Friday between 1830 and 2100 for those he deems worthy of invitation. It is an occasion when the good and great of the City (and me) can mix, drink lots of beer, learn about one anothers cultures and customs and so forth. Once we have drunk enough ale we close up shop walk along the dusty road to Hazara and partake in a feast of North Indian cuisine. Some things are sacred. Beer and a curry on a Friday night is one of those things. Of course, we will be toasting Her Majesty et al.
Mongolian of the day:- beaver :: minge
[apologies but I found this out today and it has caused no end of mirth]
