
Missing the steppe from a city window
A geranium, a mug of milk tea and the grey hills of Ulaanbaatar in November, and what I carry home from summer.
A new post every Sunday: a letter from a ger, a drive, a meal or a storm on the steppe.

A geranium, a mug of milk tea and the grey hills of Ulaanbaatar in November, and what I carry home from summer.




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A free letter every Sunday: one story from the steppe, one word and one thing to know before you go.
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