The long descent winds along the north side of the gorge. Even on my trip through the Andes I never saw landscapes quite like this, where multiple layers of mountains and clouds play tricks with my depth perception. I feel like taking a photo every time I round a corner.
I exit the mountains just as night is falling. I pass the bridge that Victor and I crossed last week coming down from Yilan. I can't find the B&B I've booked, Google Maps is sending me to a place that doesn't exist, so I ask at the police station if they know the address. The cop has all the hotels listed on a sheet, he just calls the owner who comes to get me in his car. I follow him on the bike about a kilometer to his place. When we arrive 4 young Germans are there waiting to get in. They speak no Chinese, the owner speaks no English, which leaves me translating between Chinese and German. Pretty hilarious, that. I can barely order dinner in Chinese myself. Early night after a tiring couple of days in the mountains.