In uncharted territory: the prairies of Inner Mongolia, Part 1

As Beijing, Shanghai and most other Chinese metropolises are becoming all too mundane destinations for today's thrill-seeking travelers, more and more tourists are looking to the country's mystery shrouded west to bring an exciting addition to their list of places visited. Here, far from the commotion and congestion of urban settlements, China shows travelers a much less familiar face with its multitude of ethnic minority peoples and age-old traditional cultures.

China's northernmost territory, which stretches all the way from the Gobi Desert to the Russian border and the banks of the river Arguna (É´ěrgǔnà), is known as Inner Mongolia (Nèi Ménggǔ). For centuries, this region was located outside the lands delineated by the Great Wall as belonging to the Chinese empire. It was home to hostile tribes who led a nomadic life in the barren plains and who, from time to time, carried out violent attacks on the Han Chinese settlements.

China's northern border has, however, been altered on a number of occasions and it wasn't until the final chapter of imperial China, during the Qing dynasty, that this southern half of Mongolia became a part of China. After having spent many months under Beijing's smog-filled skies and pacing my life to the capital's urban beat, I also started to yearn for blue skies, and the chance to step out of the shadows of countless skyscrapers. That's why I couldn't resist an invitation from a Chinese friend of mine to go and visit her in the backwaters of Inner Mongolia, where only a handful of tourists prior to me had erred.

The first stop on my journey was Hailaer (Hǎilāěr), the biggest city in the northern part of Inner Mongolia. From Beijing, there are direct flights to Hailaer about three times a day. Two-way tickets cost about 2,000 yuan, or 200 euros, and the flight time is about three hours. Hailaer's population size is equal to that of a middle-sized European city and for many it serves as a gateway to the plains of the Hulunbei'er. The city, only a stone's throw from the Russian-Mongolian border, does not have much to offer, although it does have that quaint small town feeling. So, we decided to skip sightseeing in town and headed for the grassy prairies. If you plan to do the same, I warmly suggest renting a car to help make the most of your journey. The China International Travel Service (CITS) also offers package tours to the plains, but normally they only consist of brief visits to a couple of local tribal communities. After Beijing, the endless green grass plains and bright blue sky found here were like balsam for the soul. The horizon undulated with green hills and clouds of the purest white sailed across the zenith. The best time to travel to this region is during the summer months when the grasslands are at their greenest. Soon after mid-August these seas of green start turning a yellowish hue.

The locals rent their horses to tourists. (Image: Radio86/Anniina Koivula)Before my trip I had pondered about how much of authentic Mongolian culture would still be visible in Inner Mongolia, and to my delight I can say that here it is still possible to see life in traditional yurts and herdsmen driving their cattle on horseback. Nevertheless, local populations have also recognized the value of tourism and set up yurt camps where tourists can get a taste of the traditional way of life in this part of the world through samplings of local music and food. One particularly attractive feature of Inner Mongolia as a travel destination is that there visitors get the chance to see the sights from the back of a horse. Local inhabitants rent horses for a reasonable fee for 30 minutes to an hour, allowing every individual to explore the surroundings according to their own riding skills. These are by no means riding safaris per se, and the horses are not trained specifically for this purpose, although they seem very tame and good tempered. For the most part, however, the plains have remained the grazing ground of thousands of sheep, horses and cows. Save for a few yurt camps, human settlements are few and far apart. But this traditional herding lifestyle is gradually making way for life in urban centers. This trend is accelerated by the growing number of migrants from the south, who understandably lack appreciation for the simple pleasures of life in a tent...

The Orthodox church was unfortunately closed. (Image: Radio86/Anniina Koivula)Nature continued to impress us with its beauty and versatility as we continued our journey northward from the grasslands of Hulubei'er. To our surprise, at times our journey took us through more wooded areas, and when we chanced upon an absolutely enchanting birch forest, we just had to stop the car and step out. We spent the night in a small town surrounded by forests and mountains, with a small Orthodox church at its center. For some reason though, possibly due to a lack of financing, the church was closed. We drove for about 1,5 hours to the banks of the river flowing on the border between China and Russia, and were somewhat surprised by its small size. Basically, it would have been possible to swim across it, as there were no fences or anything to keep people away from the water. Local people were making the most of the open spaces by fishing and letting their horses have a run on the banks. On the other hand, the opposite bank did not look too inviting, as it had become the final resting place of decaying, rusty shipwrecks. Every now and then a patrol boat toured the river, leaving the onlooker with the impression that it was more for show than for upholding the law. Finally, we decided against swimming, but did some horseback riding instead, although my trusty steed just wanted to stand knee-high in the water, stubbornly refusing to cooperate and let me realize my dream of riding headlong and free on the plains.

A log house with decorative carvings. (Image: Radio86/Anniina Koivula)The villages on the Chinese side of the national border were closely reminiscent of those in Siberia. The houses were built of wood, and often left without paint. The door and window frames were decorated with traditional Slavic carvings. Although poor, the villages are not without charm -- in fact, I felt like I had been whisked in the middle of the set of Northern Exposure, but with Russian flare. The places and villages we visited cannot be found on a map, so we found ourselves literally in uncharted territory. The locals were curious about the stranger who had strayed so far from the bustling cities and who even seemed to be enthralled by it! But this was not the end of our journey: the next stop would be the border town of Manzhouli, one of the stopovers along the Trans-Siberian railway.