Although we went to bed relatively early and only had a little to drink before we did, we don’t manage to wake up early. A few unfortunate workers who had shambled in the night before because their motorbike broke down on the mountain strike up a short conversation before leaving. They’re going to catch the only bus to Shangri-La and attempt to get home from there. It’s well past 10 am when we finish a breakfast of instant oatmeal, Dali bars and instant coffee while talking to Dan (who was so nice to replace my broken Camelbak valve with a spare that he’d brought).
The morning sun sees us off on a good start through the gorge, a pleasant false flat along a tranquil blue river and rustic scenery. Tibetan architecture is now prevalent, houses interspersed with huge wooden racks on which highland barley, a main staple of the region, is drying. Along with Tibetan architecture come the ubiquitous prayer flags, of which we learn that they’re strung in windy places so the wind can read up the prayers written on the flags. Saves the Tibetans some time to concentrate on what really matters while not neglecting their religious duties. We come across more such spiritual efficiency on a small side stream. A small cabin with a turbine sticking out of its bottom is driven by the water. Where in most areas in Yunnan you’d find a milling stone attached for grinding wheat, these Tibetan folk have connected a prayer wheel to it.
