Last fall, photographer Pat Kane spent a month living with nomadic herders on the vast, barren steppe in western Mongolia, where he slept in a traditional ger (a circular, portable tent), and took part in centuries-old rituals that honour the landscape and animals who live there.
It was an experience that affected the Yellowknife-based storyteller deeply, and he fell in love with Mongolia and its pastoral people, one of the world’s last surviving nomadic cultures who move several times a year through the lush countryside.
“Every day was a new adventure, and I learned how hard they work for basic needs,” says Kane, who is a member of the Timiskaming First Nation and has photographed Indigenous communities in Canada’s North for almost two decades.
“There are very few places like this left. You are dropped back into a time that dates back tens of thousands of years and still hasn’t changed that much. You realize how small you are on the planet because the place is so vast. It’s humbling, it really is.”
Since COVID-19 pandemic travel bans lifted, Mongolia has emerged as a top destination for the adventurous and the curious. Enticed by the opportunity to have a less-curated travel experience, and learn new things from a culture whose traditions have changed little since the days of conqueror Genghis Khan, many are drawn to the country’s growing appeal. Especially, for those under the age of 40, who make up 49 per cent of visitors, according to a 2019 survey cited by Mongolia’s tourism industry.
This year, Mongolia received another stamp of approval when travel guide Lonely Planet named it its top destination in its 2024 Best in Travel Report.
Most visitors to the country won’t have the chance, like Kane, to be embedded with a nomadic herding clan for weeks at a time. However, many local travel operators (Tour Mongolia, Ayan Travel) as well as Toronto-based G Adventures offer a wide range of truly unique experiences, ranging from authentic homestays in gers with nomadic families (learn how to milk a yak), riding horseback in the remote Taiga mountains to meet the Tsaatan reindeer-herding people and shamans; or seeing the rare and endangered Przewalski’s, the Earth’s last wild horses in Khustai National Park.
There is also a growing number of off-the-beaten-track adventurers who are renting cars and winging it, relying on their GPS to get them to colourful cultural events such as the annual Golden Eagle Festival, where Kazakh hunters showcase the speed, agility and accuracy of their magnificent hunting eagles, or the Naadam Festival, a three-day summer spectacle of the traditional Mongolian games of wrestling, archery and cross-country horse racing.
Tourists won’t be completely disconnected when visiting the country, 84 per cent of which has internet access. The nomadic communities are not as isolated as one might think, says Kane: “Almost everyone has cellphones and some gers are outfitted with solar panels.”
If you’re planning a visit, the best time is May through October, when the weather is in the 10 C to 20 C range (although the evenings can get chilly). Kane was there in September and early October and wore T-shirts and jeans most days, although when he ventured into the Altai Mountains on horseback in search of the endangered snow leopard, they were caught in a snowstorm. “I was glad I’d packed gloves and a tuque.”
A few other helpful tips: If travelling outside the bustling capital of Ulaanbaatar (home to roughly half the country’s 3.3 million population) you will most likely be offered things you aren’t used to eating. “I was given goat head and eyes, and you don’t want to turn that down because it’s disrespectful. The food is hard-earned,” Kane says.
“If you are vegetarian or lactose intolerant, it could be an issue,” he says. “Their diet is heavy on meat, milk and cheese. I ate sheep and goat for 30 days, and after a while, pizza sounds pretty good.”
He also warns against moving anything when you’re on the land, even a rock. “They believe things are in specific places for a reason and if you disrupt the land, the gods and deities will not be happy.”
“It is a way of life unlike anything you have probably experienced before,” he adds. “The experience left me feeling a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in a long time; being accepted by the community and being so close (and dependent on) nature was meditative and at the same time invigorating.”