But in order for people to worship there, herders killed lambs in front of their mothers so that the traumatized ewes would never forget the location. Whenever it was time for worship, people just followed the sheep to the slaughter site. After the sheep died, the location was hidden forever.

The grassland and the many towns and cities it encompasses have long been recognized as magnificent travel destinations but large-scale and planned tourism development in most parts only began in 2007.

That means there are limited tourism resources in terms of service, transport and accommodation. For those who don't like big development, commodification of Genghis Khan and Mongol culture, tacky souvenirs and shops, this is a good thing.

Even at the most popular destination, such as Hulun Lake, near the Shiwei Russian Ethnic Township, we didn't find street souvenir vendors that crop up everywhere else in China.

The majority of this place is very much how nature really is, without much human interference.

If you're looking for five-star hotels and luxury boutiques, this is not for you, though many hotels and restaurants have been built over the past five years. But be warned, five-star development is surely coming.

So see this wonderful place while it is unspoiled.

This is the place for those who are interested in nature and culture and have studied a bit of Mongol culture, its rules and taboos, beforehand. You can drive freely, stop whenever you like and wander around, eat whatever is available, stay wherever you can find lodging, even a yurt. It's a place for those who want to dump urban life for a couple of weeks and enjoy the beauty of the grasslands.

Before the trip, I had imagined a vast, intense green grassland with no borders, grass growing above knee-height and bending like ocean waves in the wind. I imagined intense green land and a dome of intense blue sky with white clouds. And, of course, herds of cattle, horses and sheep. A few simple Mongolian yurts.

During my six-day trip, I saw much of what I had imagined, but what was supposed to be beautiful, verdant prairie was rather disappointing. Nomads told us that July should be the best season when grasses grow high above the knee, but that hasn't happened in most parts of the great grassland in the past few years because of worsening drought, caused by industrial pollution from big coal mining (many surface mines also encroach on grasslands), over-grazing and increasingly dry weather.

When we arrived in early July, nomads had welcomed the first rain since spring and most of the grass was only ankle-high.

We also learned that Hulun Lake and Buir Lake, for which the grassland is named, have been shrinking for years. The storage level of Hulun Lake has dropped 4.6 meters since 2000, and the whole area of the lake decreased by 20 percent from its historic high; storage capacity is only half what it once was.

The shore of Hunlun Lake retreats around 100 meters every year, and is now more than 1,000 meters away from its original place. What was once a small cabin on stilts above the water now stands lonely at the shore, a few hundred meters away from the lake.

Over six days, we visited Hailar District, the administrative center; Ergun City, which contains a wetland park; Shiwei Russian Ethnic Township, and Manzhouli City, the busiest land port of entry in China (from Russia) and one of the most prosperous cities in northeastern China.