Our first Chinese bus tour of the trip is taking us to Mount Hua. Billed in the brochure as 'one of the five most famous mountains in China,' it has been a spiritual home of Taoism for over two thousand years. First, however, we have a bus ride to enjoy.

The coach is full, exclusively with eager Chinese tourists, fascinated by the two white men gatecrashing the party. Intrigued by two people with the same colour hair and roughly the same height, multiple members of the group enquire whether James and I are twins. It's nice to see stereotypes work both ways. The tour guide is a portly young man who has an annoying habit of raising the pitch of his voice higher and higher and higher over a span of about 10 minutes, before reverting to normal. Given that I don't understand what he's saying it could be mistaken for something interesting, although I learn he is describing gift shop opening hours, and dumplings.

Our first stop is at a traditional medicine centre, where we are led into a dingy back room and given a fifteen minute lecture in Mandarin, with a young 'doctor' brandishing mushrooms at us.

We finally get to the mountain in the afternoon, where we take an Austrian built cable car to the viewpoint on the mountainside. Even Stephen looks white on the way up, as the car rocks when transferring between cables. The route to the top of the peak is crowded and narrow. The steep path is taking its toll on some tourists, as we see one woman literally dragging herself up the mountain by her fingernails.

It is a tradition to bolt a padlock to the railings at the highest point you reach, and, as we climb higher, the density of the padlocks reduces. A Taoist monastery is the last stop off point before we walk the final 500 metres to the summit of the West Peak.

We reach the top and there are a surprising number of well dressed elderly men in flat shoes, and I'm mystified as to how they got here. A Chinese student, who speaks relatively good English, introduces himself to us. He asks if James can take a picture of him. James obliges, and asks to return the favour for us. Brilliantly, 'S-E-G-E' (as he spelt out his English name) then goes and finds someone else to take the picture and poses alongside James, Stephen and I in the picture. The more the merrier! We pose for a couple more childish pictures next to the giant phallus at the top.

The bus on the way back is much delayed as a couple in our tour group turn up 90 minutes later.

We brave some traditional food from the Islamic quarter in the evening, opting for the restaurant with the most people in it, feeling this indicates quality and freshness. The surroundings are filthy, but the skewers are tasty - and very spicy! I'll see what my innards make of it later tonight!