three feet of ice and counting

Well, it's been crazily cold for several weeks in Ulaanbaatar now. Proper Mongolia cold like -30C not that wimpy stuff they're complaining about in the UK. All vegetation has died, as have most of the wild dogs and cats. Restaurants are mostly meat stew.


The Tuul River, where I was swimming a few weeks back, has up to three feet of ice. Where Ulaanbaatar had only two bridges connecting the city to the other side of the river and mountains where I live those normal thoroughfares no longer matter. If you want to cross the river you simply walk, or drive, over it. The ice is frighteningly thick and grows as you watch it.


With the ice has come a new game/sport I've never seen before. Think curling-cricket-archery. Men stand at one end of a 50 metre polished ice bowling lane. The project ornately carved stones down the rink aiming for a red piece of felt at the other end. There is one large piece of red felt which is flanked by two others on each side.


Players wear thick felt boots, fur hats and dels. Dels are the traditional Mongolian dress worn by many throughout the country - it is warm but easily opened if the weather heats up, I liken it to an Asian kilt which being St Andrew's Day has a nice feel.


You get five stones and different points depending where your stone goes. Players have no special footwear for the ice. To give them a little bit of grip they dig a niche into the ice to push off from. I tried five times and fell flat on my bum each time much to the amusement of the locals. They have said I can come back to play anytime though I think that was meant as a joke. I call that cultural integration.


Mongolian of the day:- ice :: mos

war games in Ulaanbaatar

Today in Ulaanbaatar, the annual festival of Naadam began. It is based on Mongolia's love of war games with competitors boasting their skills at wrestling, archery, horse-riding and ... anklebone shooting (?). War is a big theme, Ulaanbaatar means Red Warrior.


The opening ceremony was a loud colourful affair with enormous credit paid to the country's father and hero, Chinggis Khaan (known as Genghis in the West). A packed stadium, presided over by the president, cheered and whistled as contestants walked the arena accompanied by a bevvy of supporters and pretty girls. Traditionally dressed warriors fired arrows at full speed while others chopped off would-be heads with their swords. It was exhausting to watch with so much happening at once, all set to traditional throat-singing Mongolian music. A wonderful entree into cultural life here.

Following the ceremony, the games began. The wrestling competition was a pyramid with winners progressing to the next level. Many fought at the same time. The winner was the person who threw the other to the floor first. There were lots of wee guys up against giants, but size didn't always win. After winning the fighters do a half embrace and slap each other's bottoms before the winner is given a hat to wear and runs off towards the presidential area to perform an eagle dance. With so many fights taking place simultaneously it was almost impossible to pick and follow a favourite.

The stadium next door housed archery. Archers shot some 100m towards a series of coiled ropes, each 15cm in diameter, that were set out on the ground. The centre coil was coloured red. A group of men stood (dangerously) around the coils and their response to each shot signified success or otherwise. Again we saw the eagle dance. Next to the archery several groups of men sat at what could have been makeshift craps tables. At one end three small bones were piled like cricket bales. Three or so metres away sat the competitors each with a flat piece of wood and a squared chunk of anklebone. The challenge was to flick the anklebone at the targets. This seemed to be the most male oriented of the sports with a good deal of masculine noise being made. A unique experience that promises to be even more so tomorrow...

Mongolian of the day:- war :: dain

a wild weekend in St Jean de Luz

Sometimes it takes until Tuesday to recover from a weekend in St Jean de Luz. Fabienne was stricter than ever bossing our flamenco class on Friday afternoon. We struggled to get our pasadas, zapateados and vuelta izquierdas in order but she was unrelenting. Saturday night was presenting the biggest soiree of the season so far and our teacher was adamant we would do well.

Once I had recovered suitably a friend joined me for dinner (and wine) to watch France play Wales at rugby. Afterwards we joined friends in several bars around town to discuss France's resounding victory and celebrate until the first signs of daylight started to appear. So much for the alleged Basque lack of hospitality; I was readily accepted by the gang and met far more people than names I can remember, let alone prounouce - Basque names can be...interesting.

Most of Saturday was wasted but I roused myself as evening approached and readied myself for the main event. I was acting taxi for the evening which was most welcomed given the previous night. I picked up my partner for the evening before meeting the rest of our group. Driving in convoy towards the Spanish border the storm that has marred the past few days began to raise its head. An enormous fire on La Rhune burned uncontrollably being driven widely by the wild winds. We arrived in Fuenterrabia and headed for the party.

A huge hall presented itself and soon there were some 400 ready revellers; 300 of whom were elegantly attired ladies. Following a hearty dinner of local fares the music struck up. I am always a little nervous at the start of these events and tend to watch from the sidelines to begin with; in part to remind myself of the moves, in part in hope that there is someone who is worse at dancing than me! My rest didn't last long. With only half of the men dancing the ratio of 6:1 meant that my dance-card was preoccupied for some six hours non-stop. The hard practice Fabienne had put us through paid off and we all astonished ourselves. I used to think I was fit but I was in urgent need of fresh air to cool down between every second dance; it is unrelenting and exhausting (I lost four pounds).

[Click here for video]

The colours and movement were mesmerising; the sounds and smiles elating; the laughter and sense of belonging overwhelming. It is a real privilege to be an outsider allowed to enjoy and partake in something that is so different. At 0300 we were still going strong. During one of my cool-down breaks outside I noticed a thermometer, it read 28C reminding me that we were in the eye of a sizeable storm. I had danced more than I believed possible and exhaustedly corralled my passengers. I really wanted to be home before the storm proper arrived. As it happened I slept through it all and only really woke up sometime Monday morning with a broad smile across my face and a not inconsiderable thirst.

Basque of the day:- I belong here :: hemen bertakoa naiz

(FX, thanks for photos!!)

rugby in St Jean de Luz

Rugby is the most popular sport in St Jean de Luz. Rather than kicking a football, youngsters on the beach play touch rugby. I can name several famous rugby teams from the Basque region (Biarritz, Bayonne, Pau, Dax) but I can't think of one football team. I guess the nearest big team is Bordeaux. Anyway, it is refreshing that the oval rather than round ball dominates.

St Jean de Luz Olympique are mid-table of Pool 5 in the Federale 1 (a number of pools comprise the third division of French rugby). I have been to watch them a few times and given the sun was shining opted to take some fresh air. Today the match was against Mauleon who lie two places below SJLO. Although the sun was shining the wind was howling which made for interesting conditions.

The first half was uneventful, ending 6-6. There were a couple of heated exchanges and SJLO admirably weathered ten minutes down a man after their scrum-half was sin-binned. The second half started more dramatically and SJLO ran in two unanswered tries which they duly converted. Both tries came from quick thinking back play and the visitors quickly became frustrated. Together with a scrum that destroyed the opposition SJLO were never troubled by a lacklustre Mauleon. Mauleon may have edged the punch-ups but it only gave SJLO penalties which they duly scored. SJLO won convincingly 26-6.

What was interesting was the crowd. Given this is Pool 5 of the 3rd division I am always pleasantly surprised that so many people come along and support their team. I am guessing there were over a thousand today. That's more than most of the Premier Division teams in Scotland could dream off, and the tickets are cheaper and beer more readily available. If you find yourself at a loose end on a Sunday in the Basque Country do try and take in a match. It's no suprise the national team is so strong.

Basque of the day:- rugby :: rugby

frustated in St Jean de Luz

After an active week in St Jean de Luz (skiing, flamenco, running) I aimed to continue my diet regime with a day of raquettes. Heading inland I drove towards the Foret d'Iraty some 70 kilometres away. Passing behind La Rhune the landscape changes quickly. High mountains and steep valleys engulf you. Picturesque Basque villages nestle amongst the forests. As I headed beyond the lovely town of St Jean Pied de Port (Saint John at the foot of the mountains) the road became smaller and the ascent steeper. St Jean Pied de Port was razed to the ground by Richard the Lionheart in 1177 and was once part of the Navarre region of Spain. It is still a Basque bastion with the language spoken widely here.

Rising above the valley the road started to challenge my vertigo. The views were enormous but I was intent on focusing on the road. I soon reached the snow line and the drive became slower. With 15km to go snow started to appear on the road and fall from above. The going became ever slower. Cars could be seen deserted at the side of the road. I put on my snow chains and ventured on upwards, slowly. The trees were thickly coated in snow and the temperature plunged. With 2km to go I stopped. Ahead of me on the hill were a line of abandoned cars. Cutting my losses I reluctantly headed back to St Jean de Luz. The winter braderie is on this weekend so I cheered myself up with some retail therapy. I will try again next week.

Basque of the day:- danger :: arrisku

skiing near St Jean de Luz

There is a lot of skiing to be had near St Jean de Luz. Within a short car journey you can be at any one of 25 resorts in the Pyrenees. Given the snowfall we had this week skiing was top of the agenda. Setting off before breakfast we headed to Bareges La Mongie. It's about two hours away on the other side of Lourdes (which is handy if you break a bone on the piste).

Bareges is a good sized resort with more than enough skiing for everyone and more importantly, no queues! The sun shone brightly so after lathering on some factor 50 we took the chairlift up the mountain. It was my first outing this season so I was glad to have a couple of youngsters in tow which meant I could justify taking it a little more sedately. That said after eight hours of non-stop skiing my legs were killing me. Although the majorty of pistes are blue, many of these would definitely be red in other resorts. Similarly many of the reds are more akin to black - be warned! Given the temperature (it was hot by mid afternoon) there was a 70% avalanche warning in place which always adds a little spice to the days events. I had forgotten how good the Pyrenees are, far better than the Alps in my opinion. I am planning another trip next week. I hope my legs recover in time.

Basque of the day:- ski :: eski

sunny again in St Jean de Luz

St Jean de Luz is having not so much an Indian summer but an African autumn. After a wet start November is proving to be unseasonably hot. With temperatures up in the mid twenties I couldn't resist spending the day on the beach. Granted, there weren't many of us but that made it all the nicer. The sea isn't as warm as it was a few months back but it is refreshing.

The local trawlers are busy scouring the bay. The are collecting seaweeds that they sell on to cosmetic companies. A nice wee sideline. With autumn comes bigger weather and the surfers are out every day. St Jean de Luz is one of many surf destinations along the Basque coastline. Although it doesn't have the gravitas of Biarritz or Les Landes on the surf circuit there are two spots in the bay where you can catch waves. I am still playing about in the easier mid section while more intrepid surfers head out to the point break.

Basque of the day:- by the sea :: itsasaldean

St Jean de Luz paddling

It is still raining hard in St Jean de Luz. That's three days now. Given there was a full moon when it started the chances are the dour weather will stick around for the lunar cycle. The winds are whipping up too, excellent waves. I fear another surfing adventure coming on.

Struggling a bit today. Had a boys night last night to watch a football match, Lyon v Liverpool. Was torn. I prefer French teams normally but the wife's family are from Liverpool. Luckily it ended in a draw. Am not normally a football fan but it was a good excuse to get to know the chaps better. Will opt for a rugby match next time.

The local children are back to school today after their mid-term holiday. They are relishing being able to jump in so many puddles, much to the consternation of their mothers. You can't beat jumping in puddles but I am clearly not as expert as these kids.

Basque of the day:- puddle :: putzu

surf's up in St Jean de Luz

One of St Jean de Luz' sub cultures has allowed me into its midst in recent days. With summer over, autumn winds and weather systems are forcing bigger waves onto the Basque coast. My neighbour insisted I join him and his friends to learn the way of the board. Now I knew it wasn't going to be easy but had figured the difficulty would primarily be technical not physical. How wrong I have been.

My first day was spent largely taking waves while lying flat in a press-up position. By lunchtime of day two I was halfway up and by the end of that day I managed to stand, albeit for only a couple of seconds. Today was meant to be day three but I am walking like a robot and can't lift my arms above my waist.

Now I had always sort of smirked at the whole surf thing. That whole 'being at one with nature man' thing. However, when you are sat on your board out at sea, watching and waiting for a wave to take it is a unique experience. Seriously big waves and serious amounts of fun!

I have been very fortunate in taking my first waves on one of the biggest beaches in Europe which runs some 200km from Bordeaux to the Spanish border. An enormous forest protects the beaches from the inland towns. Finding a desolate beach with excellent waves is not difficult. We were on our own the whole time we were there. Looking north and south up the beach, nothing and noone. Magical.

Basque of the day:- surf :: olatu-apar

sporting exploits in St Jean de Luz

During the summer in St Jean de Luz there is a good deal of sport on offer. Twice a week the 'jai alai' hosts major cesta punta matches that are part of the season long league. The game is traditionally Basque, involves two teams of two men with long baskets (xisteras) attached to their arm. The court is roughly 3x the size of a squash court with 3 walls (front, side, back). Each team must throw the ball (pelota) against the front wall. The other team has one bounce before it has to do likewise. If the ball bounces twice or falls outside set lines the point is lost.

St Jean de Luz also offers two more traditional pelota matches each week. These are held at the 'fronton municipal' (council run pelota stadium). Rugby is also rife throughout town, and the entire Basque region. St Jean de Luz has a good team though the stronger local teams in Biarritz and Bayonne steal most of the attention. Fitter people surf along the coast, the Atlantic presents some excellent waves. A huge volume of people go running or walking daily. Basically, the Basques seem to embrace and partake in a lot of sport. Given the number of parties held this is very necessary to look after the figure.Basque of the day:- sport :: kirol

Spanish in St Jean de Luz

Spanish is spoken in St Jean de Luz almost as much as French. With the Basque tongue resurging following many years of suppression, many people are trilingual. Tonight we watched Etreintes Brisées (Los Abrazos Rotos) at Le Rex cinema, a beautiful Spanish film by director Pedro Almodóvar starring Penelope Cruz. A wonderful film. Perhaps I am beginning to assimilate Latin culture but there is a depth to French and Spanish films that I rarely find in UK or US offerings.

Although the remnants of the storm remained ominously overhead, the beach was busy. A kayak competition took place with bronzed surf types eagerly rowing out to a distant point at sea before returning poste haste. Their kayaks had large stabilisers on one side to counteract the force of the sea. Much to the pleasure of the myriad of female spectators there was a good deal of muscular flesh on show.

Basque of the day:- sport :: kirol

point break

Ok, so St Jean de Luz doesn't immediately come to mind when you think of the great surfing beaches around the world but that doesn't stop it being a favoured pastime in the these parts.


Each morning the firemen seem to be hitting the waves, they are followed by morning classes (mostly school children), after lunch the newly appointed beach lifeguards pop out and then an afternoon class before the locals take to the sea after finishing work.


Ahead of signing up for a class I spoke to one of our friends. She has said the age worn adage "you don't need to bother with classes, just come out with us". A red flag should have been raised immediately. Instead I have agreed to their offer and hope to emulate Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze very soon.


Basque of the day:- surf :: olatu-apar

sportscene

Today was a busy day on the exercise front. A 5k run this morning, ninety minutes of Flamenco practice then my first outing onto a pelota court. The run was lovely as ever. The early morning sun rose from behind the Pyrenees as the residents of St Jean de Luz took their morning air before a day of work. Flamenco was tough. We have a big soiree tomorrow evening and this was our last practice beforehand. A little stressful but I am hoping for a better result than my efforts last time. Pelota. Well...

To say pelota makes rugby look and feel like ginkana is an understatement. It is a sport that combines the best bits of rugby (the bashing people and deft movements) with squash and tennis. It is also very masculine. The court is roughly five times that of a squash court and four men get locked in with bats, helmets and a hard ball. It is exceedingly fast and I was shattered before we'd completed the first game. Then came the tough stuff. It reminded me of playing rugby at college as we sat having our post match lunch. Within twenty minutes we had sunk four large glasses of red wine, more was forthcoming. No women are permitted into the club and smoking rules are very loose. Although it is a dark bar area seeped in testosterone it is also exceptionally warm and relaxed. I was made to feel very welcome, the Scottish card works well on such occasions, and look forward to future Fridays with much expectation. I do think practice is required before I go back, both fitness and drinking. Time for a lie down.

Basque of the day:- men :: izenaren

Pyrenees beats the Alps, no contest

Whoever said skiing in the Pyrenees was tame compared to the Alps had clearly never spent a hot March day pursuing the pistes of Barèges-La Mongie. It is a wonderful ski station situated about 30 minutes from Lourdes, 45 from Pau and 2 hours from St Jean de Luz. It offers everything any skier could want, including the longest blue run in Europe at 14 kilometres, easy but exhausting!

The sun was high in the sky, sun terraces full but not busy and by mid afternoon avalanches were rife. It is quite a sight to see a tsunami of snow disappear beneath your chairlift. Keyword for today was simplicity. We got to the slopes easily, hired the comfiest boots I've ever enjoyed, took the free bus from Barèges to the slopes, lunched in leisure, didn't experience any queues despite the glorious weather and were often the sole occupants of the wide pistes. Quite fabulous! We are hoping to return in a couple of days for some more powder fun, but only if my sunburn fades...

Basque of the day:- ski :: eskiatu

winning chocolate, losing match

Eglise St Jean-Baptiste was busy today. The service was themed around help and recovery for those ill or disabled. Very lovely as always. Being the birthday of our friend Jane, she, Maria and I ventured out of St Jean de Luz for lunch. She took us to her favourite Basque restaurant, La Plancha in Ilbarritz, some 5 kilometres up the coast towards Biarritz. The delightful eatery is located right on the beach and we sat in full view of the splendidly aggressive ocean. After an ever delicious platter of Bayonne hams I opted for gambas while the girls chose sea bream. We washed this down with a bottle of local vin blanc in anticipation of the famous desserts La Plancha offers. Jane had a strawberry flan, Maria brebis cheese with a cherry coulis and I had a magnificent chocolate brownie complete with chocolate sauce, ice-cream and chantilly - marvellous!La Plancha has been around for some twenty years and the owners also run a very Gucci nightclub next door. Given its position in a wee cove the club can safely party in splendid isolation and attracts the cream of local and visiting society, particularly during the summer months. We look forward to some late nights dancing by the sea when the nights become shorter.

Scotland play Wales at rugby in the 6 Nations this afternoon so I have sent the girls out shopping whilst I enjoy the match. Bad move, it is currently Sco 13 - 26 Wales with 10 minutes remaining. I did note my friend Grant in the Edinburgh crowd celebrating Wales' first try.

Basque of the day:- lose :: erotu

huge surf at Belharra

The weather changed again overnight. Winds howled in from the Atlantic and the sound of crashing waves filled our dreams. Running along the coast this morning the waves weren't simply smashing into the beach defences (digues) they were cantering straight over the top of them, meaning a 30 foot break. I also caught my first glimpse of the legendary Belharra.

Belharra is a reef some 2 kilometres offshore slightly south of St Jean de Luz. Amidst the ocean in the middle distance enormous white mountains erupted from their trans conintental slumber. It is a favoured site amongst the more hardy and hardcore surf community particularly in Spring when the waves are at their most aggressive. Days on end can be spent in the 'greenroom', which I believe means cradled in the barrel of a large wave. The waves can reach upwards of 60 feet. This clip shows some of the locals facing up to the beast of Belharra. I'd love to see this natural spectacular but will seek a safer means than a surfboard to do so.

Basque of the day:- mad :: zoro

a game for men

There is a pelota club near here. It is a large warehouse-like building from the outside, a dank musty den of cultural physicality within. I love it. The pelota court takes up most of the buliding. Running some 50 metres in length it is roughly 6 times the size of a squash court with two twenty metre walls running parallel to the rooftop windows that provide illumination. At one end is a plain high wall marking the court parameters, to the rear is the dark bar.

Each day men gather, drink coffee, watch the play and sit in silence. Each day players practice the sport exhausting one another with constant barrages of sweating muscular volleys as the leather ball is hammered the length of the hall. It is a game exclusively for men.

Pelota is played throughout the Basque world: France, Spain, Argentina, America, Canada, Chile, Cuba, Mexico, Perú and Uruguay. There is a world cup and stars of the game are held in high regard due to the element of danger and level of skill required to partake. The fastest recorded volley was 302km/h. To date I am amongst those who enjoy their coffee in silence but secretly crave to brave it onto the court soon.

Basque of the day:- danger :: arrisku

le lion, la sorcière et la garde-robe

Bored with my birthday grumping Maria sought to cure my blues. We ventured deep into the Pyrenees to a wee place called La Pierre St Martin. Keen to try something new we opted to go snow shoe trekking and adorned comically large flat clawed feet accordingly. Planning our route we set out on a short eight kilometre walk not knowing what to expect. We quickly got the hang of how to walk in 'raquettes' and both gained confidence that even walking up the most icy of slopes we were slip-and-slide-proof!

We trekked onwards into a wonderous snow clad forest half hidden from the wind beneath high cliff tops. Here and there were different sets of footprints and we imagined what animals could have caused them, both mildly cognicent that in these parts bears dwell (though we convinced ourselves that they would most certainly be mid-hibernation at this time!). We walked alone through the ancient forest, up and down hidden hills, past frozen streams and mighty icicle formations. The sound of silence stifled all thoughts of the outside world and for a few hours we we were both walking in Narnia.

For anyone who has toyed with the idea of snow trekking I cannot express how lovely an experience it is, guaranteed to buoy your mood and evaporate your blues.

Basque of the day:- imagination :: iruditze

lang may yer lum reek

Being St Andrew's Day I felt I had to add a Scottish touch... We were unfortunately correct with our weather prediction. The snow has completely covered La Rhune, but that means that it's raining hard here given our proximity to the beach.

Continuing the Scottish theme I have been pleasantly surprised at the response we get here when I disclose my nationality. The locals seem to be very happy to share in discussing recent defeats of England at rugby! Both of us appear to be fiercely patriotic of our heritage, a good thing. There seem to be lots of other common themes too.

As mentioned we share a love for the oval ball. Both have a variety of other more 'minority' sports that are particular to the regions. Scotland has caber tossing, hammer and sheaf tossing and the stone putt. The Basques have wood chopping, stone lifting, bale tossing and anvil lifting. However Pays Basque also lays claim to Pilota, or Cesta Punta, a wonderful sport. Two teams of two players with large baskets attached to their arm catch and throw a heavy ball at a wall at the end of a large rectangular court. It is a little like squash meets lacrosse meets Deathrace 2000.

Both also have their own language. The Scots have Gaelic, a little spoken tongue partaken in by around 2% of the population. The Basques have Basque which is spoken by over 30% of the people. It is startling that it is still so widely spoken given the harsh attempts by various regimes over the last 100 years to kill off all things Euskadi. At church this morning the service was given in a mix of French and Basque and I can proudly say I managed to sing in both (badly!).

We ended today sipping Ricard at a local bar, Bar Suisse, in the main square of St Jean de Luz, a lovely way to end the weekend. As has so often been the case down here we were made very welcome and enjoyed a myriad of conversations with various locals. I was even given a large tumbler of Macallan to toast St Andrew, slàinte mhòr agad!

Basque of the day:- welcome :: ongi etorri

commercial savvy

Well it is nearing the end of November. Although the main Christmas lights have been strung up along the main drag not one has been switched on. Neither are any of the shops showing the faintest signs of tinsel, Santa or Chris Cringle. No early Christmas trees, mechanised carol singing or bloody elves. It is so refreshing being able to enjoy November without having more than one eye emblazened on late December.

However, while this less commercial approach is invigorating, possibly even innovative these days, there is a more frustrating side. Lunch. Although it is respectful that lunch is sacred amongst retail outlets, it is also undentingly rigid. We recently sought to buy ski wear in advance of exploring the many Pyrenees ski stations. By 1220 we had most of the items we wanted less goggles and gloves. On asking for assistance we were informed that they couldn't help until after lunch. Could we leave our trolley till then? No, buy now or come back at 1500 and start over. We still need ski wear. Which brings me to today, in a round about way...

Our friend Pascale suggested we visit Bayonne to taste what she believes to be the ultimate hot chocolate. We arrived in time for lunch, and yup, it was closed. A retail outlet that offers food and drink but closes over lunch - brilliant. Bayonne was wonderful but I was in a grump so no photos today.