We were told we were going somewhere else first. Now Eastern Tuva. Who’s going? not sure. A family of three, the daughter translates for us, asking us polite questions about our lives. Driving out, first on asphalt then dirt, for an hour, two. Stop at a healing buddhist-shamanistic spring. Ablutions. Continue. We’re outrunning the clouds. Cross a river by ferry. We’re going to eat? Finally we pull over on the side of the dirt road in plain wilderness, at a little spot next to the Buran river. Fetch dry sticks, make a fire, pot of soup cooking. This is turning out well. Shishlik sticks, a whole leg of lamb. Taiga onions. Marinated, cooked right on the fire. Amazing food at a wild picnic in the depths of Tuva, and it surpassed all our expectations.