I sniff the tea, then take a tentative sip, avoiding one of the chunks of floating dough. ‘Boortsog? Is that what they’re called? My God, you are a genius. Why didn’t you tell us about this last night?’

He shrugs, and takes out one of his dough balls, biting into it. ‘Didn’t want to offend them.’

‘Have you any idea how starving I was? I’m surprised you slept with the sounds my stomach was making.’

‘Ear plugs.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Of course you’ve got ear plugs. And a head torch. And flavour disguisers. No doubt you have water-purification tablets and mosquito coils too?’

‘What can I say? I was a good Boy Scout.’

I watch him drinking his tea and wonder if I might fancy him a bit. I don’t. Not yet. He is much too wholesome. Maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong. Sam was the opposite of wholesome. I want to check what he’s up to right now, but I think it’s better to try and conserve my battery. Besides, there’s hardly likely to be a signal here.

The air still has an early-morning chill to it, and the sky is pale orange, leaking into lilac. The sun is rising slowly behind the mountain in front of the camp, and we walk a bit, trying to keep warm.

‘You sounded interested in the Buddhist thing,’ Martin says, eventually. ‘I recommend it, actually. I’m thinking about trying to go to a meditation retreat in China. That’s what I was looking up in the book earlier. Rory wants to continue with the plan – Beijing, Xi’an, Shanghai … then fly to Australia. I’m thinking a bit longer in China. I’ve been to Australia before. It’s great, but I feel like I need something a bit more spiritual.’ He pauses, looks me in the eye. ‘Does that sound like utter wank?’

I laugh. ‘Whatever floats your boat.’

‘I’ve been looking on some forums, thinking about what I can do when I get back home. I don’t want this to just be one of those trips where you do stuff, then you go home and everything just goes back to the same old shit. I really feel like this is a chance to change my life. I work in IT, for fuck’s sake. I’ve been contracting for years. I’ve no mortgage. I can work anywhere, do what I like. But … I just feel like something is missing.’