One of the more endearing things about Tibetans is their way of indicating something. Instead of raising a bony finger and pointing at the object, they simply purse their lips and shoot it a kiss. It’s a thing I’ve seen often in Vietnam but never before in China. It takes some time to realise that they mean nothing intimate.
We’ve wolfed down a bunch of noodles and commence or third showerless day. The road is flat for a while and surprisingly calm. Perhaps the Chinese tourists are heading home. Every now and then, a bright pink or yellow anorak is on display, on the hood of a Jeep or the roof of an SUV, with a backdrop of mountains for the friends at home to drool over, but mainly the road is empty.
