Group 7 is among the farthest-flung parts of Site 3, and its pleasure lies in solitude. The path leads over the shoulder of a hill and down through scrubby grass, past a small stand of trees, until a handful of jars comes into view. They are fewer than in the main groups, but each one sits alone in its own space, giving you a clear look at the carving. The stone is a pale, pinkish sandstone with a rough, pitted surface, and it takes on a rosy tint in the evening. Some jars have fallen over and lie like dropped hats, mouths turned toward the sky or the soil.
What makes the landscape easy to love is how modest it is. This is not a dramatic mountain scene. It is a soft, open upland with long grass, a few trees and the odd water buffalo, and the jars seem to have grown out of it. In the dry season the grass goes golden and the hills look like velvet, and in the wet it is bright green with mud on the tracks. Butterflies and small birds are everywhere, and the air smells of hay and woodsmoke from nearby farms.
A word on caution that no one should skip. Cluster munitions fell heavily on this area in the 1960s and early 1970s, and clearance teams are still at work. Paths at Site 3 are cleared and marked, and it is only safe to walk where the markers show. If the path is not clear, turn around. Children who live nearby know the land very well and sometimes act as unofficial guides, but it is better to arrive with a local guide arranged in Phonsavan.
Phonsavan, around eighteen kilometres off, is the base for everything, with fuel, food and simple places to sleep. The road from the town to Site 3 passes through villages where weavers sell cloth at stalls, and the surface is good until the last stretch, which can be rough in the wet season. Carry water and sun protection. From November to February the days are cool and clear, with sharp light on the stone.