Khovd to Ölgii

Another Beautiful Drive—and Another Screwed-Up Accommodation

September 29, 2026

I left Chinggis Khaan International Airport in Ulaanbaatar on a flight to Khovd, in western Mongolia. The flight was on a very nice propeller plane, probably holding about 60 passengers. Comfortable, modern, and a pleasant flight.

When I arrived in Khovd, I was greatly relieved to see that my driver was there waiting for me.

From Khovd, it was about a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Bayan-Ölgii, which from now on I’ll simply call Ölgii.

And what a beautiful drive.

The countryside was absolutely gorgeous. We drove through broad, flat valleys surrounded by rolling hills, with animals grazing everywhere. Horses wandered and grazed freely across the landscape. There were goats, cattle, yaks—animals scattered across this enormous open country.

The weather couldn’t have been better. It was a beautiful sunny day, probably around 18 or 19°C, and western Mongolia was putting on quite a show.

Everything was going wonderfully.

Until we got to Ölgii.

As we drove along the outskirts of town, I kept expecting my driver to turn toward the center. I thought I had booked a guesthouse that was reasonably close to town—within walking distance, anyway.

Apparently not.

We continued farther out until we finally arrived at the Riverwood Guest House at about 2:00 in the afternoon.

The gate was locked.

Nobody was there.

And I didn’t have cell service.

My driver tried calling the guesthouse. No answer.

This was beginning to sound very familiar.

Before leaving, I had sent the guesthouse a message on September 28 telling them that I would arrive the following day.

Their response was essentially, “Okay, see you on the 29th.”

Well, it was the 29th.

And there was nobody to see.

I contacted Banu, the coordinator for the tour group I’ll be joining here. She hadn’t arranged this accommodation and wasn’t responsible for it, but she immediately jumped in to help. She told my driver to take me back toward the center of Ölgii while she started looking for somewhere I could stay.

Meanwhile, I started searching myself.

I found a hotel online that showed rooms available for $108 a night. That seemed expensive, so rather than booking it online, I decided we would drive there and I would talk to them directly.

That turned out to be a good decision.

When we arrived at the Sarya Hotel, they did have a room—but only for two nights. And instead of $108 a night, the price was $44.

That sounded considerably better.

By about 3:00, I was in my room and once again had a place to sleep.

I already had my third night in Ölgii arranged, and since settling into the Sarya I have found another place for the remaining nights—a ger camp. A ger is what we generally call a yurt, and here in Mongolia groups of them are commonly used for tourist accommodations.

So now, one way or another, I have places to sleep until October 6, when I leave Ölgii.

That’s the main thing.

As I write this, it’s about 6:00 in the evening—four hours since we arrived at the locked Riverwood Guest House—and I still haven’t heard a word from them.

Nothing.

It’s strange. They knew exactly which day I was coming. They confirmed it the day before. Yet when I arrived, the gate was locked, nobody was there, and nobody answered the telephone.

I’m having the worst luck with hotels and guesthouses on this trip.

I think this makes about the third time something like this has happened.

But I have a bed tonight.

And tomorrow I’ll figure out the rest.