The landscape has become one large dense jungle. With strength, plots are cleared away for tobacco, rice and corn. I watch as locals spend hours working in the field, under a hot humid sun, standing bare foot in mud. I am invited for lunch and given a bowl of rice, some salted vegetables.Cigarettes pass from hand to hand to mine, a smile and then a puff. A cup of Pu’er fermented tea. The sky grows dark, thunder, then a strong down pour. Lightning flashes. The road becomes one large mud puddle, and the mountains begin to wash away, dirt moves, rocks tumble and cars stop. I am on the remotest of roads heading toward the Laos border. If it is not food or tobacco growing then it is tea as I am about 200 km from the famous city of Pu’Er (one of China’s most popular teas sold in small to large “cakes”).