Andrew Stevenson again:
The washed clothes hanging on my back-pack dry in no
time in the arid climate. Other than the green fir and pine trees,
everything else is brown, as I enter the rain-shadow of the
Himalayas and a spectacular view of Annapurna II unfolds, lying
south as I now approach the Tibetan border and plateau. I have
wound my way through the Himalayas and entered into another world.
In the distance the village of Upper Pisang strategically straddles
the ridge of a hill, overlooking the desert-like valley.
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