August in Mongolia. As the summer heat settles in, the landscape is overflown with colour. The steppe is in full swing, desert flowers unfold, slim grasses thrust through the mould...

Mongolian summers are short and brutal, like a day at Romaniacs. Since we’ve came, the road kept pushing us forward, the steppe unrolled its deceiving monotony, until we got ...

Last night the wind swirled and howled like an orphaned beast. In this vast steppe there’s no tree, no mountain to stand in the way of nature’s unleashed forces. Cows m...