Yunnan. Three Rivers. Day 5

By now, the Nu river has become part of our inner rhythm – its wildness, its refusal to be tamed. But today, we leave it behind.

We climb out of the Nujiang valley over a steep mountain ridge. The landscape shifts from raw vertical drama to a quieter majesty. Ahead lies the Lancang – the Mekong – broader, calmer, flowing with a sense of inner gravity. Villages cling to its slopes, prayer flags flicker on the passes, and time seems to stretch with the wide curves of the river. But this is only the second of three.

Another mountain wall rises before us, higher, colder, lonelier. The road twists and climbs, crossing above the clouds. We are entering the heart of one of the world's most extraordinary geographies: the Three Parallel Rivers. Here, three of Asia's greatest lifelines – Nujiang, Lancang, Jinshajiang – rush side by side through separate canyons, divided by mountains.

We descend into the third and final valley: the Jinshajiang – the upper Yangtze. Hold a second and imagine: we just crossed the Mekong, which enters the sea down in Vietnam. Now we see the Yangtze, which will run down over thousands of miles down to the sea in Shanghai. 

We follow it upstream through a landscape that becomes steadily more mythic, until the Meili  Snow Mountains rise on the horizon – a wall of white, untouchable.

Our hotel for the night rests in silence beneath the sacred peaks. Kawagebo, the highest of them, has never been summited. Not for lack of skill – but because no one dares. The locals believe these mountains are alive, and to set foot on their summit would be a violation. And somehow, as the sun sinks and the ice turns gold, we understand why.

Tonight we sleep at the edge of something larger than ourselves.

Overnight stay in a 5-star luxury hotel in the mountain-area