Mongo, interpreter working with AVSF or Agronomists and Veterinarians Without Borders a French NGO for whom I do voluntary media work, enjoys the view of downtown Ulaanbaatar from her office window.

I pop by to visit AVSF or Agronomists and Veterinarians Without Borders, a French NGO for whom I do voluntary media work. This is Mongo, their interpreter at her work desk which provides a mighty fine view of downtown Ulaanbaatar.

On my way to visit clients I visit Joey, a young Mongolian artist who also does tattoos, at the excellent studio he shares with Khaluin, a young fashion designer.

No hectic work day is complete without a pop by the French bakery in town for a quick cuppa. Alex, the owner is glued to the net between customers and provides for quick conversations about latest technology and French politics. Makes me want to run a café to add to my scribe income.

I pop by on my client visiting round to visit Joey in his studio. He's a young artist who also does tattoos apart from a host of other creative things. Caught him just as he was preparing the needle to continue on a friend's tattoo.

First visit of the day, I stop by Tsomo's Office. She was my first friend in Ulaanbaatar and works on a micro-loan project at the Central Bank. We chat outside with a view of Ulaanbaatar's city town hall, the big black building behind.

This is my living cum work space in an old 50's Soviet-era apartment block - greasy wallpaper but fancy doorknobs. I'm a freelancer and a rather undisciplined one, which is why I'm still in my PJ's at 12.30 pm but hard at work. I need to get out to do my round of visits.

This is a Soviet-era apartment block that marks my neighborhood. A typical sunny center court yard invites passers by to lounge. About a hundred of these apartment blocks mark downtown Ulaanbaatar adding a certain period charm to an otherwise charmless city.

Summer is just dawning on Mongolia and budding leaves at a busy traffic intersection provided a tempting distraction from work at hand. With transient summers, you need to learn to stand and stare.

Finally, my day is done. Too late to cook, I stop by for a take away at an Uzbek restaurant joint around my home. Reena, a Mongolian-Kazakh and manager of the restaurant is caught in reflection as she waits for the last customers and me to leave to shut shop.