Their ger is the smallest you can get (about 5m in diameter). Tradition dictates that it (and everything else) has to be cleaned within an inch of its life. The women do that, and Naidan & I sit there and drink whisky and vodka from ceremonial silver bowls. But I have introduced beer into the equation as well!!! See the photo.

Bear in mind it is minus 30 outside. The ger could best be described as the reverse of an oasis. A haven of warmth in a harsh and horribly cold environment. No electricity. Just candles.

Last year we knocked off a bottle of whisky and a bit of vodka, but this year we must be getting older (he is 69) and we only got through ¾ of a bottle together ­ plus the beer and vodka. We had a great conversation, lasting hours, about what life was like under the Soviet Union and Communism. He lost close relatives (like uncles) in the purges.

We played a Mongolian form of euchre. I slept on the floor of the ger. Didn't feel a thing - - - but then I never did in the past either, when I was a little under the weather and the hard ground of the Goldfields was my mattress, and my dog Krishna was my pillow.

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