Don't worry regular readers, we're not still in Inner Mongolia. We returned about ten days ago - 21 hours there, 21 hours back. Luckily, hard sleeper was nowhere near as hard as the name suggests. In fact, my bed was actually the softest bed I've had since arriving in China, which is something I think most TTC-ers can attest to.
A blog has not been more quickly forthcoming due to the small fact that we simply have not had internet access since we arrived. We'd heard murmurings about Facebook and Youtube being unblocked, due to the literally massive Golden Week/60th anniversary of the formation of the PRC, but alas such hopes were mere dreams in our collective sleep. And sleep mostly everyone did on the train to and from Hohhot.
Hohhot (literally "blue city"), was absolutely beautiful. We wandered on our first night, all 20 of us Shenyangers, trying to find somewhere, anywhere to eat. We could smell food all around us but in that unique Chinese way, shops seem to congregate together. For instance, you turn one corner and find a street full of shops selling bike locks. Whole shops, dedicated to bike locks.
Not once did I see a shop selling bikes, which is the worrying part.
We stumbled from Bike Lock Street, to Butcher's Alley. Pig carcasses were ten a penny in this street and I tell you, by this stage of our exploring a fair few of us were game for taking and cooking the pig ourselves. We were all starved, sustained only by the admittedly tasty rations of vacuum-packed fruit and noodles (not vacuum-packed).
Eventually we gave up the ghost and made our way to the KFC a mere 100m from our hotel. And since when did I start measuring everything in metres? It must be the German influence.

Second day, the Grasslands, was fantastic. There's nothing more refreshing than the simple pleasure of looking out of the window of a cramped bus, or a Mongolian cafeteria hut, or even from the back of a horse trotting just a little too fast for my backside's liking, and seeing absolutely nothing. It's just grass, all the way to the horizon. The weird goat's milk tea and those arse-hating horses aside, the trip was a great one.

Two hours.
Two hours we were on those horses.

Anyway, some strangely awkward wrestling (between the horse riders, and some TTCers, in some bizarre show of masculine bravura) later and we were back on the bus to the hotel, ready for the next day.

Third day, and the desert. It sounds so stupid, but when you arrive at the desert, I swear to God the very first thing that goes through your mind is "That is a lot of sand.". And believe me, the rumours are true - there is a lot of sand in the desert. Sand that I am still finding now, 11 days after visiting. It gets simply everywhere. I'm sure you've all seen the "Sandy Boots" video by now? Well, that video does not quite express how much sand was inside my boot. By that stage, just before we filmed the video, I had so much sand in my boots that my toes were perched on a ledge of sand, inside my boot, being pushed upwards. It just gets everywhere.

So we got down to the sand and there are three ways to get to the desert proper; the ski-lift, the steps, or the big whack-off sand dune. No-one could afford the ski-lift, as the pricing was extortionate. That leaves two methods of ascension. You get no prizes for guessing who wussed out and took the steps and who endeavoured to conquer the Dune, a dune so big it deserves a capital letter. It was a decision I almost immediately regretted as I quickly fell from being one of the first of an enthusiastic few to try to scale the wall to being the last person still trying to scratch miserably to the top. I eventually reached the top, and was so exhausted that I think it was an hour before I actually spoke more than two or three words at a time. Once the Dune had been conquered, the trip was a lot more fun. We took the desert car around for a look, and were thinking of the camels but our previous horse-arse experience made us look to other activities. Also, the saddles did not seem testicle-friendly at the time, but I have since then heard nothing but good things about the camels, at least in this regard.
The desert car stopped a few times, and we played golf and took pictures of some jolly sculptures that had been created in the desert, and it was all nice and fun. One thing I would like to point out is that surprisingly, for me anyway, the desert wasn't actually that hot. Don't get me wrong, it was warm, but there was a definite wind snaking it's way between the dunes that day. An ice-cream and a sand-slide made a good end to the desert trip and the seemingly mammoth climb back to the top where our coach was so inconsiderately parked, meant that the journey back to the hotel was a sleepy one.

There's not much else to tell about our trip to Hohhot really. On the fourth day we travelled home, and on the fifth day we FINALLY found some good food, in the shape of a McDonalds. Everyone had a good old chinwag about the trip and the went back home.

Since then not much else has happened, I'll write about that in a few days though because I am quite tired now. It'll give you something to look forward to.

Xie xie! Rob