We know we are high since we are feeling pressure on our temples and Prue is suffering the occasional low blood pressure blackout when standing. I seem to have a weak yet persistent nose bleed, believe me when I say that it is worth it!!

You can see the clearing of the mountain pass up ahead and suddenly you have passed a 'welcome to' note scrawled on the roadside, goodbye Yunnan and hello Sichuan. But nothing has prepared me for the final descent where untouched villages sit patiently on the cliffside, the setting sun luminates the rolling mountains against the shadowed jagged peaks.

A small town sits patiently at the bottom of the valley, engulfed in steep slopes as if in a bowl, rice terraces forming a patchworked quilt beneath it. This is one of the most quaint settlements in the most beautiful of settings I have ever seen, and if anyone repeats this journey from West Yunnan through the back roads into Xiangcheng please send me the photos. I, at the time, was nestled to a freeze in the backseat of a Toyota 4 wheel drive. To the left of me, taking up half of the back seat sat a large elderly Tibetan man who felt the need to yell at his phone when it rang. Our host, who did seem to realise that knee stroking is not part of western culture (he did it to the men too) sat crumpled up to my left and then there was Prue wedged up against the window on the far side of the knee holder. Sometimes you just have to ask yourself 'How did I get here?'

Well our day started early with good intentions of collecting up our semi-dry washing without waking up the second floor (possible fail), and catching the one and only bus to Sichuan (definate fail). With the bus already full for Xiangcheng we find breakfast in a very local restaurant, order fried eggs and steamed buns before wandering the streets and firing up the instincts in order to decide which road serves our direction.

The rain poured and we took shelter in construction site for over an hour and a half, taking turns to tell stories and encourage any passing vehicles to stop. The one that did had no English speakers inside, but we could communicate our direction and climbed aboard.

Fueled with energy from our luck we tried to answer the chinese inquisition which headed our way with little success, still our two drivers seemed to find us entertaining and that would have to do. We were grateful to stop for lunch and warm our feet by a stove stuffed with logs and dig into some corn, beans and rice. Although the men understood we were vegetarians that didn't stop a bone ladened with pork dumped upon our meals, to insist we didn't miss out. We have now come to accept that our guests will not receive any contribution towards meals and have decided that we feel better for offering but any more than that causes confusion and our eventual embarrassment as they seem to find it funny that we even bother trying. What we love to watch is how openly waitresses and their guests interact while their meals are being chopped and fried, every event is a social one in China.

Our drivers, in typical Chinese style, are constantly on their phones, many a frantic call has them leaving the dinner table. At one point Prue whispers to me that the one who has just left keeps touching her leg and it makes her uncomfortable. Imagine the internal laughter when we see him completely grope his buddy when he returns after defusing another dilemma through his mobile device.

From lunch they gather snacks and little do we realsie until half an hour later that the calls and stock up is in order to assist a broken down vehicle up ahead. The patience with which our driver repeatedly assists this vehicle is endearing, over 4 or more breakdowns, sometimes stopping for 2 ½ he attempts to assist with its repair. Prue and I, quite used to performing in the theatre of patience take walks beside the grey peaks or when high enough stroll amongst the clouds, we attempt to find places to toilet without the interruption of trucks always returning to the warm vehicle to chat and eat crisps. The unreliable car drags 13 hours out of our planned 8 and in the end we entertain 2 of its inhabitants and play human tetris with the leftover space in the back.

The journey is not the most comfortable, the roads are some of the crappest I have seen in China and the route definitely scores high points from the 'What makes a journey truly terrifying?' discussion (from the Philippines). Theres the extreme drop off for one, narrow lanes to increase conflict with passing vehicles, even narrower U bends so you cannot even see said approaching vehicles and a driver who is texting while pressing hard on the accelerator. Add to that the pot holes and slippery mud patches and it does rather well.

Xiangcheng is fortunately over an hours drive into Sichuan allowing us the chance to appreciate the unique Tibetan block houses that weren't present on the previous side of the border. The province change is highlighted by a more simple and quirky infrastructure, obvious signs of a decline in welath. Even when we reach our major town it is obvious that there has been less construction and the people with the thick paint and breeze blocks ared yet to arrive, this is refreshing.

Shattered we stretch our cramped limbs and opt to avoid another meal in company to search out accommodation. It is an expensive area, with the walls in one room indicating that we were paying extra for the artwork of grease and fingerprints. Prue noticed a side street hostel and with a much less grimy feel and friendlier hostess we accept despite the stains on the carpets. The spotless beds allow us a cosy sleep but that doesn't stop us from making a hasty get away the following morning.