In an age dominated by constant connectivity, a recent work trip to Mongolia’s vast countryside revealed the unexpected joys of being unplugged. Set against the breathtaking backdrop of Mongolia’s majestic mountains, I found myself in a unique situation—far from the bustling digital landscapes of home, I was learning to appreciate a life of simplicity and presence.

Flying from Singapore, my colleague and I landed in Ulaanbaatar before making the 55-kilometer journey to the Mongol Nomadic Camp, an experience designed to give us a taste of Mongolia’s rich heritage. Awaiting us was an immersive preview of "The Mongol Khan," a theatrical spectacle aimed at captivating audiences worldwide, and soon debuting in Singapore. Little did I know that this trip would also be a lesson in finding joy away from smartphones and social media.

Upon arrival at the camp, I was disheartened to discover the lack of cellular reception—a shocking revelation for a Singaporean accustomed to being perpetually connected. Yet, as I gingerly tried to find the camp’s Wi-Fi hotspot—an act akin to a lifeguard waving for help—I couldn't shake the irony: I was in a landscape of raw beauty and rich culture, yet all I wanted to do was scroll through my phone.

Instead of retreating into a digital world, I was urged to embrace my surroundings—the iconic gers or yurts that make up this nomadic settlement were unexpectedly cozy, offering warmth that made the chill of the Mongolian night an afterthought. My initial concerns about roughing it were eased as I discovered that the gers, insulated with wool felt, provided a comforting shelter from the cool autumn air.

As the evening unfolded, I chose to forgo the challenges of nomadic bathing rituals. Instead, I surrendered to the joys of the moment, joining fellow travelers for a "mini" Naadam Festival right outside my ger. This age-old celebration, which includes wrestling, horse racing, and archery, brought local traditions to life, and I was captivated by the vibrant culture that filled the air.

The festival blended tradition with the playful spirit of carnival games, where I found myself hopelessly trying my hand at archery—a skill that seemed to elude me. I admired the Mongolian children who rode with extraordinary grace, galloping across the plains as if it were second nature. The simplicity of life here was breathtaking, a sharp contrast to the rushing, tech-driven world I was accustomed to.

Meals featured intriguing local staples like aaruul, a tangy dried curd, and airag, a fermented horse milk drink that offered a taste of local flavor, albeit an acquired one for my palate. I marveled at the resourcefulness woven into everyday life; games played with shagai—sheep’s ankle bones—captured the spirit of fun in their elegance.

As the sun set over the sprawling landscape, I realized that this disconnection from technology allowed me to fully immerse myself in the experience. The wide-open spaces, the sounds of nature, and the company of newfound friends began to fill the void of my missing notifications.

True enough, being away from the digital hustle brought with it a certain clarity—a reminder to savor fleeting moments. I thought of the tattoo on my wrist, its depiction of mountains serving as a personal mantra: "And instead of moving mountains, let the mountains move you." This mantra resonated deeply with me as I felt the spirit of Mongolia seep into my soul.

In an era where vacations often blur into a continuation of our digital lives, my unexpected night in Mongolia became an elegant reminder of the beauty found in disconnecting. With some reservations about the forthcoming return to city life, I halted my thumb mid-scroll, preferring to relish the experience rather than record it. I learned that true presence is intertwined with the mountains’ stillness—and those unforgettable moments may just be the best things one can add to their bucket list.

As the theatrical production "The Mongol Khan" prepares to grace Singapore’s stages, I anticipate sharing my adventures—not through social media, but through stories that celebrate an enchanting culture, and perhaps inspire others to seek moments of real connection, not just with the world, but within themselves.