My Trip to Ulaanbaatar: A Quiet Adventure Through the Heart of Mongolia
I recently had the chance to spend some time in Ulaanbaatar, the capital city of Mongolia. It was not my first time in the city, but this trip felt different. I had a goal this time—to visit the National University of Mongolia and do a bit of personal research on education and culture in the country. I had read and heard many things about the university, but being there in person was something else entirely. This blog is about the whole experience, from getting lost near a hidden bus station to spending quiet hours reading and walking through campus paths.
The Start: Finding My Way to the University
I started my day early. The air in Ulaanbaatar was cool and dry, the kind of air that wakes you up whether you like it or not. I packed a notebook, some pens, a water bottle, and my camera, and left the guesthouse I was staying at. My plan was to take a bus to the National University of Mongolia, which is located not far from Sukhbaatar Square. I had been told to catch a bus from a station near the city center.
Finding the bus station wasn’t easy. In fact, it felt like the station didn’t want to be found. It wasn’t a big terminal like the ones you’d see in some cities. There were no large signs or ticket counters. Just a narrow, slightly cracked sidewalk with a rusty bench, a small shop selling soda and snacks, and a few people waiting quietly.
So I stood there, a little unsure, but eventually, the bus arrived. It was a blue bus with faded numbers and a driver who didn’t say much. I got on, paid in cash, and found a seat near the back.
The Ride Through the City
The bus ride was slow but interesting. Ulaanbaatar is full of contrasts—old buildings with peeling paint standing next to new glass towers, busy markets next to quiet residential blocks. From the window, I saw people walking to work, street vendors opening their stalls, and children with backpacks heading to school.
There was a calmness to the chaos. Even in traffic, no one seemed rushed. The bus stopped frequently, and the driver sometimes honked gently at people standing too close to the road. It was a local scene, nothing fancy, but I felt glad to be a part of it, even for a little while.
As we got closer to the city center, the streets got busier. I kept an eye on my GPS and recognized the area around Sukhbaatar Square. The university was close now. I pulled the stop rope, and the bus rolled to a stop near a bookstore I’d seen before. From there, I walked about five minutes to the university gates.
Arriving at the National University of Mongolia
The National University of Mongolia was everything I imagined and more. It had a strong presence, but nothing flashy. The buildings were clean, academic, and slightly aged, giving them a quiet dignity. The main campus had large trees, tidy paths, and a peaceful atmosphere. Students were sitting on benches, talking, reading, or just relaxing. I felt like I had stepped into a slower, more thoughtful world.
I entered the main building, which had a soft echo inside. There were posters on the wall about upcoming research conferences, student clubs, and cultural events. I made my way to the library, which was open to visitors for a small fee.
The library was the highlight of my visit. It was silent, warm, and filled with Mongolian and English-language books on history, language, science, and philosophy. I spent several hours there, taking notes, reading about Mongolia’s education system, and just observing the quiet routines of students and staff. There was a calm rhythm in the way they studied—focused, unhurried.
Wandering the Campus
After leaving the library, I walked around the campus. I passed by the Faculty of Physics and Electronics, the School of International Relations, and a cozy little cafe tucked behind a classroom building. I stopped there for coffee and a meat pastry called huushuur. The woman behind the counter smiled when I tried to order in broken Mongolian. She spoke a bit of English and said, “You are visiting? University is good, yes?”
“Yes,” I said, “very good.”
She gave me extra sugar for my coffee.
Later, I visited a small museum attached to the university. It had artifacts from Mongolian history, traditional tools, and even a few photos of famous alumni. I felt like I was getting a full picture of what learning and growth meant in this place—both old and new.
Heading Back
By late afternoon, I decided it was time to head back. I retraced my steps, walking back past the main gates, past students laughing near the courtyard, and onto the street where I had gotten off the bus earlier. The ride back was just as slow and simple as before. The sky had started to change color. It was golden and slightly pink, casting long shadows on the buildings.
I got off near the same hidden stop again. This time, I didn’t miss it. The same rusty bench, the same little snack shop. A kind of hidden corner of the city that I now knew.
Final Thoughts
My visit to the National University of Mongolia wasn’t grand or dramatic. But it felt real. From the quiet bus ride to the hidden station, to the soft echo of the university halls, and the smell of coffee in a tiny cafe, everything about the day felt peaceful and thoughtful.
In a world that moves fast and often tries to impress, this trip reminded me that meaning often hides in the quieter places—the ones you have to find for yourself, like a bus stop with no sign or a library in a city most people still haven’t visited.
If you ever find yourself in Ulaanbaatar, I recommend you do the same. Get a little lost. Ask a stranger. Take a slow bus ride. And visit a university that doesn’t try too hard to be seen—because sometimes, that’s where you’ll find exactly what you didn’t know you were looking for.
🙂
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