y curiosity about Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region started on a painfully primitive bus ride to Mongolia back in 2016. Somewhere along the way, we passed through the region, and I was completely transfixed. I knew I wanted to come back to find out about what nomadic life on the grasslands and deserts was really like. Plus, as a scenery junkie, a big draw for me is that within a few hours' drive, the lush green hills of the Xilamuren Grassland shift into the rolling sand dunes of the Kubuqi Desert.
Before Inner Mongolia became a tourist hotspot, these wandering tribes shaped a way of life rooted in resilience and a deep connection to the land. Families moved with their herds as the seasons changed, always in search of fresh grazing land. Their meals were simple but hearty, centered around mutton and dairy.
Life on the steppe followed these traditions for thousands of years, but you can still catch glimpses of that nomadic culture today. So when two of my friends told me they were coming to China, I knew exactly where to take them.
While I usually prefer to plan my own trips, this time I opted for a tour. It made reaching the more remote region much easier.
We realized quickly that this tour was built for students because instead of taking the two and half hour high-speed train we were venturing to the grasslands eight hours away in a long-haul bus. Stop by stop, more passengers got on, one seemingly younger than the next. By the end, there were around 40 of us.
It was dark before we finally reached Xilamuren Grassland. But when we saw the white yurts lit up against a star-strewn black-blue sky, I got a burst of energy.
Ushered off the bus, we were assigned our yurts. They were bare bones, but still homey nonetheless. In the past, these circular, collapsible homes were engineered to be packed and moved in hours, serving as the essential anchor for a life on the go. Now they are stationary and clustered across an open field.
It was much colder out on the grasslands than it had been in Beijing, so we threw on extra layers and headed to dinner. That night, we had Mongolian hotpot, a simpler, more traditional style that focuses on the quality of the meat rather than the broth.
The table quickly filled with plate after plate of paper-thin sliced lamb, along with greens, tofu and noodles. Since I am a hot pot pro at this point, I focused on helping my friends learn how to cook the meat and make the best possible dipping sauce.
When dinner was winding down, performers poured into the dining area and made their way around the tables. They were dressed in traditional Mongolian clothing, with long, brightly colored robes tied at the waist with wide belts, paired with colorful boots and structured hats.
They stopped at each table, singing, playing instruments and interacting with guests as they went.
The performances centered on the "three treasures" of Mongolian culture: throat singing, the horsehead fiddle and traditional dance. Full and fully entertained, we headed back to the yurts to get some sleep after dinner.
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