Mount Qingcheng

I lofty peak, very like the scenes in Crouching Tiger. Lemon and I began our ascent a couple of days back, one misty, atmospheric afternoon. We deviated from the track a little, when I spied some ancient steps cut into the hillside. The track meandered off the map and we found ourselves heading toward "Old Man Peak". This was a huge precipice that would have commanded majestic views out over the mountain, but the mist was too thick. And who should we bump into but none other than the Old Man himself. I suspect he was guardian of the peak, and his post must have been held by a long lineage of old men stretching back centuries. He told us the peak was a dead end, and to go back. We did, and reached the many temples and tour groups again. Descending we stayed in a temple, with authentic rooms, grumpy chef, and the most modern toilets I'd ever seen. Some Austrian girls we met later said they stayed at the same place - but their room had the added company of FLEAS!

The rear of the mountain was much less betempled, rather offered vistas of trees of all colours, deep gorges and ravines, and green lined rivers and stone paths and bridges. The photos I intend to post will elaborate.

It's now the wet season proper - lead-grey skies, constant rain, sluggish apathetic backpackers, watching telly.