Sunday, August 9, 2009This morning it was with a sort of fierce determination that we headed out to see something of Ulaanbaatar. A park seemed like a good destination because it might be something that A might enjoy. The weather was cloudy and a suddenly chilly 55° F, but we pushed resolutely on toward Nairamdal Park. Our destination, according to the Lonely Planet, was a large park which was also the home of an amusement park that was jointly sponsored by the Japanese.
At some point it was determined that the “walk” to the park was a bit longer than anticipated, so we jumped into a cab and were soon across the street from our destination.
Or so it seemed.
Graced by a pretty gate, I thought, we’ve found it at last! But wait—what we found was a VAST expanse of green, walkways that are being reclaimed by nature and not another soul—unless you count the souls of dogs.And why is that A is afraid of all the friendly dogs at home but instead was instantly attracted to these semi-wild ones? “Hi!” she shouted and headed off after them.
The park was grand in its layout and enormous in acreage. As we passed the building closest to the entrance, Frank remarked, “Look, the door to “Happiness Land” is open...” But despite the open building, there was no one to be seen. And where, indeed, was the amusement park promised by the Lonely Planet guide book?
A followed the dogs and examined pebbles as we enjoyed the solitude and quiet of the place. As we circled back toward the entrance we found what we’d been looking for.
First came a sign proclaiming some kind of Japanese-Mongolian partnership. And then we found the amusement park—still in its boxes.Postscript: The next day I learned that this park has recently been sold to developers. This explains the apparently abandoned nature of the place.
