5 hours until the first bus swap, 2 of those hours bouncing alongside some of the most epic landscape I have ever seen. Steep valleys where the wilderness is untouched -maybe due to its unobtainable positioning- are backed by grey mountains, add a few clumps and whisps of cloud and you've got a thousand pictures from Prue, who is a self confessed untaker of photos. Local town dwellers dress in an array of traditional wear, gorgeous colours and patterns. One such woman dressed in a turquoise jacket embroidered with swirls of black and shiny coins on the shoulder climbs on board with a baby bound to her back, literally, there is cord around its body to stop any struggles. Its head sits a funny angle until it is realeased from its harness, the cord unwound and the infant breathes a big sigh of relief. Never far away from development in the midst of all this we pass a huge dam designed for hydro power, definitely the way forward but odd looking in the highlands.

The develpoment is greater than expected, especially at the 1570m high Xingje (or town of old Yuanyang) which sits upon the Alioa mountain range. It is however the hub for over 900 settlements throughout the countryside and bulk tourism in peak season. We barter a mini van driver to 30 Yuan from 100, go us. The accomodation signposted on entering the bus station is another 30km and one epic drive away, but we linger as our taxi driver waits for locals to accompany us on our journey and make it worth his while. People watching becomes the new favourite pastime, girls carrying babies, striped blue and pink collars sit underneath rainbow head dresses, woven baskets are carried from a band around the head or as a back pack, chickens are being sold and swung to and fro with its owners rhythm,upside down, all the way home. 30 minutes of curving roads takes us through Duoyishu village and gives us a sample of the glorious views that 2200 square kilometres of rice terraces, cultivated over the past1300 years, can create. Dropping us off at a T road we follow a track leading into the village below, and find ourselves actually following a funeral procession. There is an eerie music coming from a bag pipe sounding flute like instrument and a boom from fire crackers at the rear. Despite the occassion the crowds of locals look beautiful lined in their embroidered clothes and we are priviledged to glimpe this side to the Hani culture, the prominent ethnic group in Yuanyang.

Sunny guesthouse near the little town of Duoyishu seemed a little ill maintained so after a brief discussion on budgets, dorms versus shoddy rooms versus grand rooms we take a bigger dive into our funds than merely opting for a dorm. Jackies guesthouse a few steps away is both remarkably clean and comfortable and we opt for a room with a grand view of cascading terraces, a huge bathroom and fantastic new beds for 24 dollars a night! Asking for food we have bread and egg held up before us and before long are enjoying a fried sandwich on the hostel balcony. No real sunset grandeur but gorgeous scenery as we take a walk making use of the rooftops to get an even better view. We buy a few bits and pieces from a couple of local shops which double up as a living room, snooker room and a bedroom for 5 or more.

Forcing yourself out of the most comfy of beds and breaking out of the hostel (it was locked so early on) at 5.30am takes some will, especially as it becomes apparent that the sun is going to resist to rise until at least an hour later. That would also explain why the main lookout was locked up and we had to break in by jumping the fence, well, until a bus load of tourists approached and we speedily jumped back while they hovered about the main entrance (we have heard of a motor cyclist being chased with sticks for speeding so not eager to push our luck!). In fact if you include the gorgeous views at every turn; Passing groups of villagers killing, skinning and selling pieces of their pigs (it is dragon boat festival day tomorrow); Taking a glimpse as a man opens a caribou and lets the blood spill across the street during a busy meat and vegetable market, and watching a dog tug at before swallowing whole the poo from a piglets back side, I can say we have had quite a day even before breakfast.

When 2 vegetarians walk past a street side slaughter house they opt for a tofu station just beyond the carcasses. Our cook in smart pink garments waved a hand made fan on her barbeque and smiled sweetly as we sat. She immediately began preparing a sauce that unfortunately tastes a little like soap (maybe that taste came from the pepper as I'm sure the chilli, corriander and soy would have been OK), luckily we were at our own devices to dip in or avoid. The tofu itself was cooked beautifully and we drew much attention as we poked our chopsticks from bbq to mouth. Our mission to walk the 26 km to Xinje was going to take some protein. Edged on by spectacualr scenery; Small men hearding their caribou with their suit like jackets hanging off their shoulders and trimmed hats held high; The whirlwinds of small groups of chinese with their long lensed cameras and chatter of the mini van horns on every corner the hours drift by. We take detours to get the best views (and to avoid paying the 100 yuan for the priviledge to stand in a terraced shaped tourist platforms, budget travellers ey).

Although the locals who have created this wonderland do not appear to go hungry, I do not feel that the 20 dollars per person charge has much effect on their lifestyle. Don't get me wrong I have no proof of my judgement other than watching the difficulty of the labour, for young and in particular the old and viewing the small danky rooms which many have to share.

Our plastic coats are garned through each rain spurt and then refreshingly removed with the sun, not the best smell. Before our legs attempt to give up entirely we reach the Old town and do our routine pointing-at-vegetables and then manage to remember how to say 'rice' in chinese to get a delicious lunch from an amused familys restaurant. Well deserved. Even make time for ice cream in the towns square -which also has a huge screen TV playing squawking cartoons- and watch some women exercising, or at least trying to for some of them, very cute.

Feeling like one of the family at our guesthouse, we meet its owner Jacky himself. His mum insists on giving us tea and and apple for supper and we find out that it is his dad who is the breakfast 'egg and bread master.