The Heavenly Lake

Dear all,

We found ourselves in a bit of a jam travelling to the heavenly lake. It was either diversions due to earthquake damage or a police checkpoint (or both). Whatever the reason we stood around in a field for a couple of hours, three of the guys attempted to play frisbee. It was pleasant enough.

Tim, Tom and Dan weren't posing, they just happened to be standing in a line like that.

When we finally arrived we joined the scrum for buses to take us to the top. Claire had advised us to take an overnight bag but it was too much trouble for me to sort that out so I took my entire pack. At the top I took the longest walk with full pack that I've taken so far, about half an hour uphill. It was tolerable. Musak was again being piped from tree stump and rock speakers, but unexpectedly they played a piano version of the final melody from Spirited Away. I asked around to find whether anybody else had seen the film and recognised the music. No one had.

During the climb I kept reminding myself to look at the view rather than my feet:

Heavenly lake certainly contained many aspects of heaven. We were above two thousand metres, the air was cool and clear, and promises of peace appeared on the horizon in the form of snow capped mountains.

We arrived at our Kazak style yurts and were sorted into two. Couples (of which there were three) in one, everybody else in the other. It seemed a strange logic to me but I didn't question it because it didn't really matter.

We dumped our bags and after Myles gave us an overview of the available hiking options we set out. I wanted to take the path that no one else was taking - mainly for that reason. I would walk as far as I could around the lake and when it was necessary I would turn back.

At first I was in the company of the rest of the group, all merrily laughing and joking above the blue of the lake. There were also Chinese businessmen in shiny trousers taking pictures of each other, tour groups with megaphones, and a couple posing for wedding pictures. However on closer inspection the couple held fake frozen smiles for the photos and scowled whenever the camera was off them. The woman was wearing jeans under her lovely pink flowing dress. I hoped it wasn't a real wedding, that they were posing for magazine or catalogue photos.

Barbed wire prevented access to the lake itself, presumably to stop people from drowning in the deep crystal clear waters. I upped my pace, trying to outrun the loud jokes of the group, the cameras of the tourists, the barbed wire.

Finally I was alone. The path round the lake was set around the rock of the cliff face. At times it was carved into the cliff, at other points suspended on wooden boards. The inaccessible water lay a few feet below. As I was walking I occasionally heard a bell ring out in a hollow tone over the lake.

I came to a long flight of stairs leading to a temple. I wanted to continue round the lake so took an overgrown path off to the side. It zig zagged up the slope and eventually rejoined the flight of stairs. I entered the temple.

Embers were silently smoking but no one was in sight. It was a Taoist temple but I didn't recognise the God. I found the bell and the hammer. I didn't ring it.

I descended the stairs feeling more settled than earlier when I was trying to outrun the group and the tourists. Here I met Mike and Emma. They told me of the wonderful views they had seen so far and asked me how the temple was. I didn't know what to say. I noticed a new path leading further round the lake so I said goodbye and went on my way.

I passed a few shacks where people lived and saw some of them down below washing sticks or vegetables in the lake. The barbed wire had ended.

I descended to grassy slopes by the lake.

The path beyond rose steeply through forest. I entered and was in shadow. The air was cold and it was a lot harder to climb. The steps were overgrown and there was no one in sight. As I climbed I could hear my heart pounding. Looking back I could see the temple.

I seemed to be disturbing creatures with every step but I couldn't see any. At the top of the ridge I found this sign:

It read, "Entering the ghat, Be cautious". I didn't know what to make of this but continued.

The descent of the slope was just as steep as the ascent but here the path had been obliterated in many places by rockfalls and overgrowth. I had to watch my feet now.

At the base of the slope I found a wide expanse of grassland. I left the path and walked across the grass towards the lake. There was solid ground somewhere underneath but I couldn't see it. Small spiky seeds attached themselves to my socks and itched my feet and unseen plants scratched my legs.

Someone had made a vegetable garden here. Looking closer I saw a low hut nearby. Grass was growing just as thickly on its roof as on the valley floor. I couldn't tell whether it was inhabited.

I approached the water and bathed my hands. I could see through the water. It became very deep very quickly but the depths weren't murky.

As the sun was growing low in the sky I reluctantly turned back. This was as far as I would go today. The only necessity was to find my way back while I could still see my way.

As always, the way back was easier than the way out. I met Mika near the temple who gave me some water. We walked back together in the dusk. We were an hour late for dinner but someone handed me a plate of what looked like rice and a spoon. I sat with the others and scoffed it down in the half light of a dangling head torch.

That night ten of us slept together in the yurt. It was just as cold as our first bush camp by the Great Wall but there were extra blankets available in addition to our sleeping bags. I piled two on top of me and felt very warm.

That night an upset stomach compelled me to take a walk in the woods with a torch, a toilet roll and a trowel. It wasn't so bad and I didn't step on anyone.

Stephen