You'll have to add 3 km to the total at some point, because I've moved from one end of town to the other in the last few days, at a snail-defying rate of about 13 millimetres westward per minute.
Yushu is somewhat like London, Paris, Rome, New York, Royston, etc.
It has stuff.
I mean, just look at this.
It even has my favourite, White Cat Liquid Detergent.
And fried dace!
Asmund! Look, fried dace.
Here's the deal.
If I don't make it, you get the contents of my left-rear pannier. I chucked out my tent and sleeping bag, reckoned it wasn't really necessary, and stocked up on dace instead. But if I perish on the plateau, the dace is yours, OK?