I explored Mongolia with only Google and ChatGPT as my travel buddies. Here's how my trip went
Arriving in Mongolia without a plan might sound reckless, but sometimes, the best decisions start with a simple “Why not?”: no fixed itinerary, no list of must-sees—just a working SIM card, half-remembered high school lessons about Chinggis Khan, and the courage to type “Things to do in UB” (Ulaanbaatar) into Google at 10:00 p.m.
The internet's Mongolia looks exotic, rugged, and untouched. In many pictures, it seems to be a place that can only be explored with big adventure bikes, 4x4s, strong quadriceps, and endless energy for the great outdoors. But seeing the country not through luxury or influencer gloss but through search bars, translations, and digital intuition yielded various surprises in ways that don’t always make it to Instagram. It’s not just yurt stays and horseback rides—although those are cool, too—but also about catching a rhythm that’s slower, stranger, and unexpectedly grounding.
In this trip, I let every major decision, cultural misunderstanding, and travel question be shaped by real-time Google searches and ChatGPT prompts. Here are 10 actual searches that helped me navigate UB: a land of eternal blue skies, fermented mare’s milk, and internet connection that’s fast and affordable.
How to say thank you in Mongolian?
Bayarlalaa. One of the first words I made sure to learn. It came in handy at markets, in taxis, when strangers helped me find alleyways when Google maps couldn't. Language isn’t just words—it’s humility, it’s respect.
Pancit canton Ulaanbaatar
A longing typed in desperation. I was missing home—its flavors, its saltiness, its ease. I hadn't found any. Thankfully, our friend Marc Soong, who came to Ulaanbaatar for a Total Adventour motorcycle tour, brought us two months’ supply worth of pancit canton, sinigang mix, banana chips, and tuyo tucked in his motorcycle luggage. Homesickness is weirdly edible. For a Pinoy away from home, happiness can be MSG-flavored. By the way, I also searched "Coco Martin Batang Quiapo" because why not?
Best transport in Ulaanbaatar
Ulaanbaatar traffic is not for the faint of heart, but as a Filipino, it just feels like home. It’s Manila-level deadlock but with fewer horns and more patience. Google suggested buses, but deciphering routes required reading Cyrillic that my brain rejected on sight. Taxis are affordable, especially through apps like UBCab, which I described to my husband as a less stressful version of Grab. You just put your pin location and there's no need to key in your destination—it's fairly convenient. They accept cash but bring spare change.
Where can I get tickets for the Naadam opening ceremony?
I wasn’t able to—tickets were sold out five minutes after sales opened online like a Taylor Swift concert. But again, like the pop superstar's show, there’s a lot of resale tickets that’s sold twice, thrice, four times the original price—with some being sold as high as 300 USD. The search led me down a rabbit hole of sketchy Facebook sellers and mysterious messages like “13sek 9sh bn shvv 350k 99606965.” I still don’t know what that means, but it felt like a challenge from the Mongolian black market. In the end, I didn’t get official tickets, but I watched Naadam events in National Sports Stadium for free—I learned and enjoyed watching knucklebone shooting (a UNESCO World Heritage game), archery, and wrestling—zero logistics, 100% joy.
Mongolian visa extension request
Mongolia is one of the few countries where Filipinos can arrive visa-free and can stay for 21 days. I knew early on that three weeks wasn’t enough, so I checked Google if it’s possible to apply for either a residency visa (a girl can dream) or whatever form of visa extension. Unlike other countries that require land titles and shedding your dignity, visa extension application here is pretty easy and done fully online. All you need is a letter, passport, accomplished form, and a small fee. They did not even ask for an ID photo, which was a shame because I prepared a damn good one (well, according to me). Because or in spite of that, I was granted a 30-day extension on top of the original 21 days. Smooth.
How much is 1 million Tugrik in PHP?
Mongolia is the land where my dream of becoming a millionaire came true—apart from Indonesia. The first time I withdrew a million from the ATM, I felt like an auntie who will pay someone to leave my son alone. Reality check: ₮1,000,000 is about ₱16,000. Still, it felt baller to carry a million in my purse for groceries and laundry detergent. I'm already missing this feeling.
This is Mongol The Hu lyrics
Like any proper millennial, the world must know of my adventures through Instagram stories. What good is an Instagram story without proper music? Any proper post about Mongolia should be accompanied by a song by The Hu—Mongolia’s epic throat-singing rock band. This is Mongol became my hype song for walking to the supermarket. I looked up the lyrics expecting cultural wisdom, but mostly got battle cries and bass drops. Very empowering.
Queen Amidala
Ahh, the things I learn in museums. And please don’t judge me on this one. I saw a traditional Mongolian woman’s attire in Chinggis Khan Museum and immediately thought, “Padmé?” Turns out Star Wars designers did borrow from Mongolian royal fashion for Queen Amidala’s iconic look. So yes, there is a legitimate link between Chinggis Khan’s descendants and galactic fashion.
Where to buy Mongolian beauty products
Mongolian skincare is the real deal. Think camel milk creams, sea buckthorn oils, and natural balms designed to survive sub-zero winds. I bought a moisturizer that smelled like fermented yogurt and wildflowers. An acquaintance suggested Lhamour and yes, it’s very good. I bought a lip balm that is made from sheep fat and coconut. My lip was confused but deeply hydrated. (I searched online but in the end, the best recommendation is one that will be given by another human.)
Translate to English
A daily ritual. From shampoo labels to restaurant menus to unsolicited texts from my local mobile data provider. For this one, ChatGPT may be more useful than Google translate, as both Cyrillic and Latin alphabet are being used here. ChatGPT’s crowning moment was when our cab driver typed “haryult mungu ugch chadahgui bna haan bank dans bna uu” which translates to “I can’t give you a refund. Do you have a Khan Bank account?” So bye bye, 5500 Tugrik. And another lesson learned—always bring smaller bills.
