Ulan Bator, a Tuesday afternoon

So Priestly hadn't quite made it home, yet. In his defense, he'd become determined to do it with his own funds, and as such had had to spend some time actually working under the table in Hong Kong to do it.

Also, he wanted to spend some time in Mongolia. Just because he'd been talking about doing it for months before everything got swallowed up by the Nothing.

So here he was, in Mongolia's capital city, home to 45% of the country's total population, which he'd be calling home for the next six hours before his flight to Moscow, to connect to New York, and then Santa Cruz. He looked around for some sort of native guide, and ended up in a little coffee kiosk.

"Question: do you guys have barbecue?"

"Of course!" said the man at the counter. "We're famous for it world wide! Haven't you ever seen a Mongolian barbecue restaurant?"

"Ha!" Priestly crowed. "In your face, Momoko!"

"Did she think it was invented in Taiwan?" the man at the counter asked. "That's a common misconception."

Behold, the power of memory.

[nfb of course. Open for phone calls if folks are down with some SP.]

OOC: So a little late BUT STILL

THIS is totally what Priestly's last photo sent to Dinah should have been.