WORLDWIDE | Tuesday, 25 October 2011 | Views [440]
Morning: I slept in a nomad tent next to the lake and every morning yaks would amble down the drink the cold crisp water. I felt like an intruder, it was his lake and not mine; he was glaring at me. I love the ripples he created with his hoofs in the puddle. Just one small yak against the backdrop of giant snowy peaks and a huge sky highlighted the isolation of the lake.
