Mongolia has a long standing tradition of hospitality; food and lodging is offered to anyone, free of charge. Nomadic cultures necessitate it for survival. Some gift, when possible, might be offered in exchange.

Khovsgol Lake is a popular vacation destination (by Mongolian standards) in the north. I found a ride to one of its shores dotted with tourist camps, which I had hoped to avoid.

Walking further up the coast, accommodations became rare so I was relieved and delighted to meet a couple who sold fish and offered me a private “guest ger”. They provided me with wood for the stove, a thermos of hot water to make tea, a jerrycan of water for washing, sheets and blankets; all I would need for a comfortable stay. They asked for 10,000 tugrik (about$6/night). A delicious lunch of fish, potatoes, onions and salad was prepared for a small additional fee. It was a quiet and beautiful location. Our communication was limited to the three or four common words we shared but their kindness was evident.

Taking a walk some distance from my ger, I noticed a few yaks, two horses and as I neared, an older man cradling a baby.  An older woman soon joined him.  I continued my approach, smiled, greeted them with a hello and was quickly ushered in to sit on the hard seat/bed in their sparsely furnished ger. Without hesitation the woman offered me tea, a large slab of fresh baked bread and two bowls. One contained delectable, mild, yak butter and the other was soon filled with freshly made yogurt. I savored each sip and bite and had to gently refuse her additional helpings. There was an ease between us and somehow we made our inquiries understood.

We lingered awhile longer. Soon after, with a thank you, I headed back to my ger returning a short time later with some small gifts: a writing pad, pen and soap. She received them with delight. I said goodbye and while I was walking away she called, hurried towards me and placed two smoked fish (a regional delicacy) in a bag for me to take on my way.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post! Welcome to the tales of a woman solo traveler and thoughts to make today the start of something new. I hope you find information and inspiration in the text and images and join me in my quest for growth, wonderment and self-improvement.

Downtown Medellin, Colombia is where you will find the Botero Plaza with those wonderful eponymous, enormous statues, a major tourist attraction during the day. But in the evening the streets return to the locals.

My hostel, however, was only two blocks away so I took this opportunity to walk around. I was the only foreigner in sight.

The atmosphere was lively.  Just beyond the plaza there were street vendors hawking fruits, vegetables, clothing, toys, and household goods  along  a pedestrian mall with shops on each side. The residents were bargaining and strolling: families, couples, teens.

I was thirsty and bought a papaya drink. It was quite large, too large,  and with the cup -half empty- I threw it in a trash can.

Within seconds, the drink was snatched up by a thin young man who clearly lived on the streets. The color of his clothing was indistinguishable from the color of his skin.  Dirt was so deeply embedded into both.

He quickly took a sip from this cup -half full- said one word, “papaya”, gave me the biggest smile and, cup in hand, continued on his way.