Turpan to top of the world

We've come from Turpan, one hundred and something metres below sea level, to Heavenly Lake, more than two thousand metres above.

In Turpan I had an impressive bout of heat stroke, the outcome of which I long to describe, but won't. Apart from I'll just whisper 'projectile'.

I don't remember much of yesterday, but today has been just a delight. We spent the morning swimming in the lake and drying out on the rocks along the shore. The water is straight off the glacier and is that
forever-green-blue and is so cold that only someone used to swimming at Port Fairy would find it thoroughly enjoyable.

The mountains are as serene as I've ever seen mountains and the air is sweetly perfumed by
mountain herbs and pine trees. When you lie on the rocks in the sun, birds of prey float overhead and make that sound like I've only heard on David Attenborogh programs and the Wide World of Disney.

The afternoon was all of us napping in the yurt. I didn't sleep because I'd spent the previous two days comatose. Instead I lay wrapped in the smell of warm sleeping bodies and listened to the serenity.