Little did he know, whilst Charlie was writing the last post I was in secrect negotiations with the next door hostel arranging a birthday party for that evening. I went over to check that everything was in order but was told that, disaster, they were unable to get a cake. Fortunately I do speak one Chinese language - money - and I was told it was, now, definatley possible to get a cake for that evening!
As we neared the end of our feast of freshly slaughtered BBQ cow and other local spicy foods, the banging Chinese R'n'B stopped and 'Happy Birthday' in Chinese came over the speakers. Charlie sat in shock as the lights dimmed and the cake came out. It was beautiful - whipped cream carefully shaped into delicate flowers. Unfortunatly it didn't last. Niether of us knew about what the Chinese actually do with their cakes, maybe its why they're all so skinny?? We started handing around slices anglo-style but everyone else looked confused, they soon put us right, and what started with a smear of cream on Charlies cheek turned into the biggest food fight I've ever encountered. It made even the Epsom College dining hall look civilised. A few beers later we walked home with very sticky faces and stained clothes. The beautiful cake lay was everywhere, over us, our new friends, their animals and the floor. And what started as a lousy, rainy day turned into one of the best on our trip.
In the morning we took a taxi early into the Deqin national park and began our 1200m ascent over the mountain to the Ubong villages which are not accessable by road. It was tough going and steep but within 4 hours we were at the summit covered in prayer flags and eating noodle soup and baba, a tibetan bread which is like a mixture of naan and pitta. By 3 o'clock we had arrived down the other side and checked in to the Hikers Home Hostel. Our room had terrific veiws of the valley and glacier. But as night fell we realised we'd come very underprepared with no toothbrushes and not enough warm clothes. The next morning we (somehow) got up super early, and those who have tried (and failed) will agree that it's not easy to get me out of bed at 6. It was wonderful to be walking so early with no one else around and with the constant drizzle and lush green trees, we could have been in the Lake District. The walking was difficult but worth it as we reached the top. Waterfalls from the melting glacier (it's summer here) cascade down into a mass of frozen water and seem to dissapear, re-emerging into a stream that flows down to the Ubong villages. Unfortunatly the view was somewhat obscured by a cloud which had decended as we were walking but it was spectacular all the same. We reached the village at lunchtime and decided (against my better judgment) to climb back over the mountain to civilisation. It was hard, but by 9 we were back at the hostel where we'd spent Charlies birthday. 10 hours of walking isn't easy for two lazy 'gap yah' student who haven't seen a gym since leaving school.
We realised the only way out of Dequin was another long bus ride back to Shangri-La but it had been worth it for those 5 great days.
From Shangri-La we made our way into Sichuan province towards Chengdu. There were long, strenuous bus rides which pushed our patience to its limits as miles and miles of road were being tarmaced and resurfaced. They call the area we travelled through the Wild West, the Tibetan villages are all very similar, small towns where nothing much goes on! However, the surroundings are beautiful and there are fantastic hiking opportunities. The area is known for sky burial, this is a Tibetan burial practise. As most Tibetans are Buddist they believe in reincarnation and once the person is dead the body is just an empty vessel. The body is taken to a holy place (normally on a mountain) where a monk or llama distroys the body useing knives, mallets and other instruments. Vultures and other birds of prey then take the body and feast on it. The bones are mashed up and are left for nature to claim and decompose. Although many travellers we were with went to watch, we both felt a little uncomfortable going. (I wouldn't like it if a group of camera bearing tourists turned up at a family funeral, although allegedly no one minds and the Tibetan spectators are what we would percieve as rude, making phone calls, spitting and talking loudly.) The pretty villages we stayed at grew gradually bigger into towns and cities and eventually - after what seemed like days and days on buses we arrived in Chengdu. Charlie has put his foot down and insisted that next time we have a distance like that to cover, we'll take a plane.
