Still perplexed and slightly harassed by the mornings images we linger upon the internet until we must leave. Both slightly hoping to spend another night in luxury we haul our packs and racks up the hillside towards the nationally famous 318 highway. The route is a Chinese dream, and hundreds do it, on cycles. The gateway into Litang symbolises a huge acvhievement and there are whooping squeals of delight and photographs galore. I am aksed to be in a picture, oh no wait there, asked to take the picture, I almost feel shunned. We relax against the embroidered archway, changing sides according to the rain carried by the bitter winds. Over an hour or two we are harassed by snotty nosed Tibetan children who poke us with grubby fingers, inspect our luggage with greater perseverance than most security officals and insist upon having a cigarette, or just the box if theres nothing else. A few passengers stop and stare, gargle at us in an excited manner before hitting the accelerator. Checking out the state of the cars and bikers from the north does not leave us in the hope of a smooth ride, mudslides withstanding. The clouds looking like they overfed on grey matter block our eyes from the beautiful basin and seem to be deterring us from our venture. Nevertheless we combine our determination and opt to agree to pay a driver to take us in a new 'fund your hitchiking' program and within 30 minutes we are on the road. Thankyou 4 wheel drives, and although the route became engulfed by the clouds along all that grey matter I am sure that it was mountainous and epic. The thick heaven-like fog had very little soothing effect on Mr suit jacket over jeans at the wheel. A fist to a biker here, quick shake of the head before a horn blast and violant yells at a Jeep to the right, after which his head would jerk to smile very warmly at ourselves. We traverse around 2 landslides, one of which has us both screaming 'excuse me, excuse me' before dashing out of the car. The angle with which we faced the river did not look in our favour. We pass many more picturesque villages clinging to even more absurd hilltops and and prayer stations on pinnacles, we must also have been exhaust deep while crossing through one badly flooded village due to dam works up ahead.

Expecting the drive to take 5 hours we exclaim suprise when we are ousted after 3. 'Where, town?' we demand over and over. The driver points to the left of the fork. 'But how, far?' He does not understand this one despite our progressively enlargeing hand signals. Our visible contempt meant that several seconds later he withdrew his request for the money we promised and several seconds after that we run face first into the 'not acessible by car' part of Xinlong. The wave of guilt at our frustration towards honest Mr suit jacket over jeans is quite intense. Prue shrugs it off quite easily, its not like we havn't been cheated in the past few days but for the next 24 hours I carry a 100yuan at hand should we meet him again, sorry dude.

Searching for accomodation we are sent on a wild goose chase by locals before entering a huge complex and a fantastic looking hotel. The lobby is lush and we worry about our funding until we are told one bed is 30 yuan, cheap as.

When shown to our room I experience something new, the hotel dilapidates before my eyes as I ascend. With every step a year of use compresses the carpets, dampens the celings and peels at the walls. By the second floor we are in a ruin with the only redeeming feature is the clean and comfy beds. We agree to one night but that is before Prue uses the bathroom during which she is splattered with fluid leaking from the ceiling. She is fighting a tantrum welling inside her and I know that we are both on the edge with filthy China already, even after nearly a weeks break from it.

Enjoying the sights of the pretty staggered town, the patchwork pattern of prayer flags swaying on the hillsides and the hundreds of steps paving the way to the monastery takes us outside and into the hands of the local time wasters, sorry I mean the Police Sirs. Although we have already eaten (as many good noodle restaurants to fill you up here as there are min van drivers to give you a headache) and have our accomodation set it is necessary for us to now check in before we aliens have entered the town. The sun is setting and the opportunity for photography is disappearing alongside it, but this does not mean that the police will hasten the effort. 4 uniformed officers clamber around our passports unable to recognise their own visa, that we have one out of date is a major conundrum and writing the few required details takes 20 minutes before a specialist 'identifier of different people' is brought to the case. We are patient as she takes the time it needs to extract the decoding sytems tied within the pages of our documents, but when she announces that we must stay at a designated 'foreigner hotel' at cheaper price of 150Yuan we insist that we are not repacking our luggage and relocating at increased expense due to her staffs inadequacies (or something less profound like 'no'). Marching us to our hotel, theres everything from an arrest but handcuffs as people stare at our undermining. Her confidence turns to force as she loudly undermines our receptionist and declares our current accomodation to be unsecure and unfit (ok I partially agree that the carpets could have been replaced) . She rants that we cannot stay in this hotel, cannot stay in this hotel until with a sudden flash of red she is turned upon by a young monk at the desk turns upon her and with arms outstretched and demands 'why?'. Police versus Monk, its a stand off and retreat with a faint 'next time you will foreign hotel' before scurrying away. 1-0 to spiritual outrage, with cop scam achieving a distant second place.

We are thrilled to witness first hand the levied status that Monks have in society, well apart from reduced travel fees, an aura that commands respect and brand spanking new watches that is.