I guess tourism in Mongolia hasn’t fully taken off yet. My MIAT Airlines flight to Ulaanbaatar was almost empty. I had an entire row to myself. The aircraft was new, the service genuinely great: socks, toothbrush, everything you’d expect from a top-tier airline. The food was delicious. Honestly, it was giving Singapore Airlines, yet hardly anyone seems to know MIAT. I landed early in the morning, rested briefly, and then headed straight out to explore.
In the city center at Sükhbaatar Square, something big was happening. The square was full of people dressed up, taking photos, eating street food, and clearly having a great time. At Gandantegchinlen Monastery, another event was underway. It felt like many Korean visitors had come for Buddhist practice. The city itself felt quiet, almost restrained, yet things were clearly happening beneath the surface.
The next day, I left the city for the grasslands, and this was where Mongolia truly revealed itself. I stayed in a yurt camp with local families and was the only foreigner there. Communication was mostly smiles and hand gestures. The landscape was unreal, like the Windows XP wallpaper, everywhere you looked. I’ve rarely experienced this level of quiet (not since Tibet). Just you and the vastness of nature, making you feel incredibly humble. I rode horses, tried bow-and-arrow shooting, and ate lamb in every form imaginable: lamb soup for breakfast, lamb noodles for lunch, a whole roasted lamb for dinner. I felt Mongolia from the inside out.
Culturally, Mongolia is a fascinating blend. Tibetan Buddhism runs deep. At the Aryapala Temple Meditation Center, hundreds of Buddhist wisdoms are written on boards scattered across the mountainside. At the same time, there are old temples in the city with Chinese inscriptions, reminders of layered histories. But what impressed me most? Mongolian hip-hop fused with traditional throat singing. Ancient and modern, raw and cool, which might just be the coolest sound I’ve discovered on this trip.
