Waving goodbye to the freedom fighters, Becks and I set off up the dusty path of the Chola Mountains. With all our gear on our backs we walk slowly, taking in the magnificent views, breathing in the fresh crisp morning air and stopping regularly for breaks to catch our breath. After maybe an hour of walking, we had gained a fair bit of ground by slowly plodding the snaking incremental path. Far below we could just make out the truck stop where we had left from that morning.

The morning was creeping by and the minivans which had left from Manigango earlier this morning were beginning to catch us up. Content with our situation and stocked with the balls of tsampa in our jacket pockets, (thanks to Tawa) we didn't flag them down. The bottom-less valleys were carpeted with luscious grasslands like a sea of jade. Shadows intrude upon the quiet grasslands, cast down from the colossal rocky peaks of the Chola Mountain. The mountains themselves were bare, yet the white snow atop them glistened as the sun moved directly above. Stopping for a rest we hear a deep rumble slowly impending upon us. With thumbs our and big smiles the big blue truck miraculously slows to a halt in front of us! "Where you go?" asked the driver…. "Dege" we reply. He nods and beckons us in! Opening the door we throw our bags inside and climb on up. WOW! Both ogling out the incredibly large front window at the panoramic views, we exchange looks and giggle as this was the first truck to have let us ride with it!! TINNY b******S! How else would you cross the infamous Chola pass?

Bumping along at a snail's pace we try and communicate with our young driver who is busy directing traffic through his intercom. King of the pass he was, yelling short, blunt instructions to other vehicles around. After a few hours we come to a stop behind another truck. Something is obviously up with the other truck and our driver wants to help out and be involved. Skulking over to me as I sit with my feet dangling over the edge, he explains in sign language that he will be here a while and maybe we should find another truck to get us to Dege. What a sweet guy. Guilt was written all over his face because he hadn't been able to take us the entire way! Some of the Chinese are so generous and so damn lovely!

Back on the road it was minutes before flagged down another truck, but this time we were sharing the small cabin with the wife and daughter of the driver. Sitting in silence most of the way, being fed cakes one after another we cruise over the peak of the 5050m pass. Swarming with prayer flags and coloured papers (prayer papers), the mountain top looks like the aftermath of a wiggles concert. There were white chortens dotting the roadside laced with the coloured prayer flags, above, eagles circle crowning the glory of the pass. The slow speed of the truck meant more time soaking in the atmosphere and getting some nice shots.

Once we descended the mountain pass, the next 4 hours to Dege were uneventful; Pretty landscape but nothing awe-inspiring. Passing a decent sized town, we wonder how long until we arrive in Dege as it had been over 7 hours in total since leaving Manigango (longer than anticipated!). "Dege?" we asked our driver. Sure enough he points behind us. It was the town we had just passed. The next stop for him was Tibet which could have been interesting since we are not allowed to enter! Hmmmm smuggled into Tibet??? Sounds like my kind of adventure. Well maybe not this time. Asking him to pull over, we march with all our gear back into town.

Hot, tired and cranky (a stark contrast from this morning's mood), we trudge back to Dege in search of accommodation and food. Un-wavered by the inquisitive, yet somewhat cold stares by the locals, we barter with a few hotels and finally settle (for lack of a better choice) on a cheap, vaguely clean room which backs onto the river for 100yuan. The selling point was the thermos of boiling water (to be used immediately for a 3in1 nescafe coffee!) and a TV. The TV's in China are normally of no use to us English speakers but it is now Olympic fever and that's our new priority!

What was left of the afternoon was spent flicking back and forth between the 4 channels broadcasting the Olympics (all in Chinese without any subtitles), drinking coffee and generally recuperating.

Over the next few days in Dege, we felt little enthusiasm to explore. The town itself was larger than expected (which is mostly the case in China) and filled with the entire range of motor vehicles whose size does not correspond with the horns decibels. The only road rules we could understand was that when your horn is blazing then you have right of way, unless someone's horn is louder than yours! In regards to the buildings, they were generally uninteresting with only a very small section of architecture being authentic Tibetan Kham style, whilst the rest being the ordinary Chinese bland metropolis with a good lashing of Tibetan filth. The Tibetans here are traditionally awkward with foreigners as they adopt a blank, cold, intrusive stare wherever you walk (Obviously this is a exaggeration, it's not EVERYONE but it sure feels that way.) There was bound to be a place that pushed us to our limits and for us it was in Dege that our China cookie crumbled! Our enthusiasm for the place plummeted, our patience for communication finally dwindled and our appeal for the Tibetan culture vanished. Maybe the crack finally shattered the rose coloured glasses now because of how much we pushed it to get here, as well as how much praise Dege had received, yet it left us feeling unavoidably underwhelmed. Bleughhhh. What a horrible head space to be in. I feel the need to catch my breath, recuperate and plug my ears before I go deaf from this chaotic place. Now having ranted an awful lot, I would like to say that I would never have changed the two day detour we took to get here. We would never have met Hans, Jack and Yak, nor been tucked into bed my monks or crossed the incredible Chola Pass. In the words of the great Jackson Pollock "Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it".

So the only reason Dege is on the map is because it's Genqing Monastery which contains the Dege Sutra printing Academy. A few travellers raved about this place and I am happy to say that it did not disappoint (for once we got some decent reviews). Kept within the beautiful building are more than 290,000 hand-carved blocks of religious Tibetan texts containing over 500 million characters. Paying over 100yuan each to enter the Monastery, I was sceptical as to whether this was a Chinese tourist gimmick but after walking around for over an hour I left feeling confident that it is a legitimate printing academy J. Leaving quickly, the ground floor sutra halls (a place of worship) after finding freakish statues with evil eyes, we enjoy the colourful, delicate architecture of the ground level internal courtyard. Moving up to the second and third floors we meander through the library of engraved blocks, pulling them out and admiring the intricate craftsmanship which has gone into each one. Next we walk into a whirlwind of paper, ink and action as partnered men spread the paper over the engraved block, ink the roller then roll over the engraving to form a page of the oldest Tibetan cultural legacy, all in a matter in seconds!! Making sure I pop back into the room every now and then purely to ensure the legitimacy of their work, we continue to explore the delightful monastery. Level four houses the clothesline for the drying sheets of freshly inked paper, along with the sorting room and the paper making room! Climbing the hand carved ladder, you are able to escape through the top of the building onto the roof where magnificent views of the town and surrounds are on offer. Small, red wooden houses are dotted upon the adjacent hillside, gold dragon statues protrude from the sky high flying eaves of the printing academy and the wide blue sky contrasting the decadent warm colours just enlightens the ambience of the place. I really enjoyed the monastery - but is it enough to make that epic detour from Ganzi???…

Before I finish with Dege, I need to add that we spent the last afternoon wondering the sloping street which connecting the Monastery to the river. The quirky shops on either side of the road are bursting with activities and cultural fascinations. We saw jewellery makers in action, welders, gold traders, kids fossicking for deals and even a yak scrounging around in the dumpsters. If you're into pre-loved, second-hand Tibetan jewellery then here is your place!