By nine in the morning everyone stands packed and ready to leave. Of course, this does not include the Mongolians, who stand around in the entrance of their tent rubbing their sleepy eyes. The road to Toilogt is a forgettable one. Huge machines rumble on the fresh gravel of the new road, lorries carry tons of soil. The new tarmac road is being built occasionally only 20 metres from the lakeside. So much for nature conservation and the protection of the National Park. Fortunately later on the road turns back into a dust one with only two wheel tracks to show us the way but topic stays in our minds long after. We wonder aloud how many years, months before destruction reaches this part of the region, too. In a local hut someone is smoking fish over a fire built of jak droppings. We immediately buy about ten succulent taimen (local fish) and by lunchtime all that is left are the bones. Later on we buy along the road a few pounds of fresh salmon and grayling. At around seven in the evening we set camp, grill the fish. Finally we are only surrounded by peace and quiet. We sit around the fire for a long time, feeling as if we had already been journeying together for a long time. Nobody has any issues, we are all thankful for the calmness of nature, the opportunity to be here, the horses, the food and each other.