It was only near the border with Mongolia where we experienced any of the more suspicious conduct we had anticipated. We had a ruthless looking man dressed in SWAT uniform come and photograph us at dinner, soon after we were greeted by a friendly police duo who asked if they could escort us onto the 30km until the next town, to ensure our safety in 'this dangerous border region'. They tailed us all the way, inadvertently saving our front light batteries. We had hoped we would be left alone in the evening on arrival, but another squad car took up the baton and followed us into the hills to where we planned to camp for the night. We eventually stopped and managed to persuade them exhausted as we were we couldn't make it another 30km to the likely expensive hotels of the border town. They agreed we could camp, but only if they stayed with us, we were surprised but raised no objections. So our convoy drove off the road, we set up the tent in the glow of their headlights, they even helped us with the poles. After a couple of friendly photos, we stripped off into boxers and into bed, and they sat and must have slept 150m away in the car on the roadside. Babysitters, water-boys, and sat navs, we wondered how they felt in performing all these 'core policing' responsibilities. Imagine the consternation if a whole night of this police time was paid for by the UK taxpayer. Indeed imagine if UK police were as regularly as courteous and quite so helpful as their Chinese counterparts, and imagine the bill to the Treasury if they were half as well equipped?      

A stunning clear Saturday morning embraced us and there was not a squad car in sight, heading to the Mongolian border we felt we had cracked it. This illusion was shattered on encountering another police-car, who followed us for a while, before driving up to inform us the border was closed on weekends. Mandatory hotel lodging followed, and an enforced rest weekend was ours to enjoy in the baking sun, walking distance from Mongolia.