7.15am and I am camped in the middle of nowhere when from behind the nearest sand dune comes a familiar put-putting sound and a heavily-laden bike heading where I haad couldn't say as we were a long way from anywhere. Its owner nearly fell off when he spotted me with my tent and made a beeline for a chat and of course a good look at Thelma. He kept peering anxiously into the tent expecting a man to appear, but finally tok my word for it that I was alone, he offered me some of the milk from his churn but I assured him I was fine.

Ten minutes later he was on his way again following some invisible route through the dunes and hills of the Gobi.