It was golden hour when we reached Kyzylkup and the sun was our friend once more, casting it’s subtle golden glow over the coloured layers of ‘Tiramisu’ canyon. A vast area of white chalk rock layered with iron creating an undulating striped rock of cream, rose pink, cream, white and coffee rising abruptly from the flat landscape. We had just enough time to climb the slopes to the top and see the stripes illuminated before the colours paled as the sun dipped behind the peaks leaving deep, shadowed crevices. We camped at the base of the canyon where the ground was studded with ancient iron deposits and millenia old shells. In places the ground was hard and cracked sounding hollow underfoot, in others it was soft and squashy. Narrow channels created by rainwater formed a network of veins across the ground and tiny, green scrubby plants clung to life in the parched clay. It was a magnificent spot, beautiful, hot and so wonderfully peaceful. The stars and milky way were even more vivid here, feeling closer, bigger, as if they were reaching down to us. We saw a satellite train shoot across and the constellations of Cassiopeia, the Pole Star, Ursa Minor, Scorpios, Cygnus all so amazingly distinct. We sat quietly in awe of the universe, feeling ourselves so very tiny.