chapter ten - The Return

My goal was to finish this chapter before September. But obviously, like most things I try to plan, it hasn’t worked out that way. Curiously though, it seems ok that I finish this story in the midst of a beginning. I’d like to think of it as a reflection of what The Return really was. You’ll notice, after all, that the title of this chapter is not The End...

The morning of our departure, Tom played his ukulele while our bills were figured out. Yes, ukulele, a gift from a very thoughtful brother-in-law. I will tell you now that it’s weird to hear the ukulele playing in the Mongolian wilderness. But somehow, it also makes perfect sense.

After our bills were paid and Ed and Charli reimbursed the ger camp for the towel they burned, we were off – crammed together in a fogron bumping along to Murun. Not especially keen on taking another road trip, Ed, Charli and I decided on the quicker (hour and half) and less bumpy flight. It was just a bit tricky obtaining the tickets. I believe Ed was first directed to go the ticket office in Murun, but when we got there the office was closed. They told him over the phone that we could buy tickets at the airport. But when we got to the airport, there was no one there who sold tickets. We were told to go to the ticket office. So Ed explained that it was closed and we were told to buy tickets at the airport. Eventually, a prim, white-stockinged lady came and sat herself down at a very unofficial-looking table next to the metal detector to sell tickets. There were 8 spots left on the plane. In about 10 minutes, three of those spots were taken.

Ian and Liz opted to prolong the vacation experience by continuing their travels in the countryside. Tom and Emily were also flying out. After a bit of lunch together and a strange meeting with Ed and Charli’s co-worker’s son (who sat with us about 5 minutes then brooded in a corner opposite us picking at a piece of cake), we all parted ways – Ian and Liz to their next adventure the rest of us to the airport.

Tom plucked along on his ukulele as we waited to board. Emily read a Reader’s Digest procured from a recent trip to the states. I played “Could They Be Gay?” with Ed and Charli concerning a couple sitting across from us. We determined that they were. The flight was uneventful and lovely.

30 minutes after landing and a horrifying taxi ride by a driver who must have been in a big hurry and believed himself to be immortal – I was home. Dirty, stinky, tired and hungry.

That’s how all returns should begin.



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