Our bus arrives too late to make the final connection. We pay a van driver instead. The dim light of the setting sun illuminates the rice terraces carving the mountainsides. The driver asks if we booked a hotel.

"Maybe."

He gets on his phone.

Later, he stops and disembarks. Unsure of his motives, my boyfriend is ready to fight him.

The driver is in the bushes, taking a leak.

Trouble avoided.

At the summit, porters swarm. Hotel owners chase us up the hill despite our "no thanks".

We need an English-speaking accommodation.

Our research found a candidate, several kilometers uphill.