At the very northern tip of the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, where the borders of China, Russia, Mongolia and Kazakhstan collide, there exists a geological oasis.

Altay prefecture inhabits a picturesque corner of Xinjiang roughly the size of Cuba. With an elevation range from as high as 4,178 meters to as low as just 246 meters above sea level, a short coach trip can take you from snowcapped peaks and glaciers all the way down to the desert, complete with herds of wild camels.

My recent trip to the prefecture took my breath away. While others snoozed on the coach as we descended the mountains, my nose was glued to the window, not being able to take my eyes off the enchanting scenery scrolling past.

As the coach wound its way from valley to valley, there were towering silver peaks in the distance. The foreground was a chartreuse green, textured with the denser tones of birch forest. The scene was reminiscent of a mountainous Alpine forest. But this was not Switzerland. It's not even Europe.

The azure blue river, roaring at our side as if in competition to keep pace, transfixed me once more to the window. The power and beauty of nature are not something I usually experience back in the city.

Dotted in the distance on the grassy slopes, traditional yurts housed nomadic herders, most likely of the Kazakh ethnic group, as their goats, cows and horses roamed in the near distance. I'm briefly taken back to the evening before, where for the first time in my life, I had witnessed throat singing — a specialty of the many Turkic peoples who call Xinjiang home. The expelled air resonates through the vocal tract like a spirit sending a message across from the other side.

Back to the bus and the rolling ecological highlight reel in front of me.

Often mistaken for cows, or very large goats, gigantic wild dogs were also seen wandering these lands. So jaw dropping was the scene before me, it often reminded me of epic video games such as The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, where your character adventures through a mountainous world of otherworldly visual beauty. I had to pinch myself to remind me I'm not in a video game, and that all this is real.

Coming further down off the mountains, the ground stretched out, and flat grasslands gently swayed in the breeze. Before too long, Earth's green follicles appeared to thin like those on a balding man, revealing the sandy scalp beneath. Minutes later, the grass was completely gone, taken over by an endless expanse of a bright daffodil-yellow desert. This is where the herds of wild camels appeared.

As others began to wake groggily from their coach-trip snoozes, blissfully unaware of the astoundingly majestic scenes they all had missed, I was colored amazed. Did you not see any of that? I asked a few others as they rubbed their eyes and twitched their noses. See what? Was the reply.

Then, as I have just now, I struggled to put into words the monumental scene that I appear to have been the only witness to.

Next time, you fool, just take a video.