China Travels | Sabine & Phil's Excellent Adventure
Around the south - July 2010
12 July 2010 - At 8am on the nose some of Sabine’s colleagues knocked on our door. They were here to help us load our luggage into the car before driving us to the south bus station. They saw us off and we settled into our cramped seats for the next seven hours to Lanzhou. The journey continued but the conductor appeared not to understand that a bladder needs periodic emptying. Firstly, Sabine had to repeatedly ask for a toilet stop. When the bus stopped in Ping Lian to drop passengers, I also alighted from the exit mid-way down the bus. Simultaneously the conductor, guessing my cunning plan, also alighted from the front exit. We faced each other on the pavement beside the bus. He began to protest. I told him in no uncertain terms that I needed to go and walked off at a brisk pace in search of a suitable niche. I quickly found a toilet in a nearby yard before hot-footing it back to the bus and some stern words from the conductor. I discovered from Sabine he had blamed two Tibetan college students who had helped us earlier in the journey. He had to vent his frustrations on someone it seemed.
We eventually arrived in the capital (of Gansu) at the east bus station and the students quickly helped us find a cheap, convenient place for the night. ¥40 got us a grubby, L-shaped room with a flask of hot water and two bowls (we had to ask for sheets). After saying our goodbye for the evening we headed into town for some tea. We had been told beef noodles (niu rou mian) were out of the question as people considered it a breakfast speciality. However a nice man (and his mother) we met helped us find Niu Rou La Mian where we filled up with two steaming bowls. The evening was still young so we decided on a walk through the neighbourhood despite both feeling like we’d been involved in heavy manual labour all day. It’s surprising how sitting on a bus not doing particularly much can wear you out.
After not finding the food market explained in our guide we strolled back to the bus station to sus out our onward journey, slurped on a bing bang (ice cream) then retired to our room for the evening. At half nine-ish, as we were preparing for bed, there came a rap on the door. We hurriedly pulled on shorts and t-shirts and opened the door. A young Chinese man entered the room on the pretext of checking the TV (which worked fine) but just wanting to practice his English conversation skills. Although slightly taken aback we made sure we practiced our Chinese also, whilst he sat on our bed addressing me more than Bine (well, I am the man). 15 minutes later he was persuaded to call it a night. We just laughed at the situation, murdered a few mosquitoes and turned out the light. Sleep came quickly but so did the car horns early next morning.
After not finding the food market explained in our guide we strolled back to the bus station to sus out our onward journey, slurped on a bing bang (ice cream) then retired to our room for the evening. At half nine-ish, as we were preparing for bed, there came a rap on the door. We hurriedly pulled on shorts and t-shirts and opened the door. A young Chinese man entered the room on the pretext of checking the TV (which worked fine) but just wanting to practice his English conversation skills. Although slightly taken aback we made sure we practiced our Chinese also, whilst he sat on our bed addressing me more than Bine (well, I am the man). 15 minutes later he was persuaded to call it a night. We just laughed at the situation, murdered a few mosquitoes and turned out the light. Sleep came quickly but so did the car horns early next morning.
13 July 2010 - Roused at 6.30 by my watch, we had a quick wash then left to meet the Tibetan girls near the station. Bus 111 took us to the nan zhan (south station) for another to XiaHe. Strangely we needed hu zhao (passport) copies to purchase tickets. Luckily our Tibetan companions came to the rescue, visiting a copy shop across the road, before leading us out to our bus. We took a few photos then chatted until the bus departed at 9.30am. A tiring and largely uninteresting 4 and a half hours later we found our bearings and walked up the main street to our hotel (Labrang Baoma). However the room didn’t seem all that secure and other two occupants didn’t appear too respectable. We found better accommodation in a four-bed dorm across the street at the Tibetan International Hotel. It turned into a ‘twin’ room as we were the only occupants. After settling in we wandered off on a trip around the Labrang Monastery. The 3km walk was lined with the myriad prayer wheels used by the numerous pilgrims. The day was hot. This, combined with almost 3000m of altitude gave me a lingering headache which took a nap to eradicate. Later at 7ish we attempted to eat western food. Unfortunately they had run out of cheese! We settled for hui mian (veg noodles) and a bing bang. The town square was lively with many locals watching traditional Tibetan dancing by young and old alike. 9.30 saw us back in our room playing cards and watching TV before bed.
14 July 2010 - After being awoken at 6.30 by a noisy hot water heater, we dozed for a couple of hours then showered. A brace of bikes were hired after breakfast then some food for lunch and a bike lock sorted. Our plans for the day were a cycle ride to Sanke grasslands but prior to this we ascended the track up the valley that led to a nunnery. As we pushed our bikes – it was too steep to ride with fixed gears– we passed many locals on their way to town dressed as if it was winter time: heavy coats and boots etc. All were friendly and most greeted us in English before reverting to Chinese. Almost at the nunnery, we past a shepherd urging his flock of goats to move faster. Fascinatingly, he used a slingshot to launch stones in an effort to persuade recalcitrant individuals to get a move on. As we arrived at what we later discovered was the nunnery, we met a Tibetan family on a pilgrimage to a holy peak nearby. After talking for a few minutes we realised it was not a working nunnery but an abandoned ruin. After photos we headed down and joined the road to Sanke.
The weather, although much cooler than yesterday, was unsure what to do with itself. Fine rain showers punctuated the afternoon as we left town. After pedaling for about half an hour we encountered a pair of men in a booth near the roadside. We were required to hand over ¥5 each to enter the Sanke grasslands area. However we did receive two rather splendid, glossy tickets in return. 20 minutes further and a ‘campsite’ of yurts appeared. We pulled in and organised one for ourselves (¥100). Once oriented, we realised the place was a bit rundown but there wasn’t an abundance of choice in the vicinity. In one area there was a football match of sorts in progress. The odd thing was the players were all monks dressed in traditional robes with football shirts of European teams over the top, some even had boots. Just past this there were a group of younger monks playing cards. They invited us to join them so we chatted for a while. They were quite comical and their joviality quite endearing – very incongruous to the perception of a strict lifestyle of study and prayer. The next hour or so was spent on a short bike ride along the main road exploring a rundown casino – much out of context with its surroundings. After a short rest we ordered our tea and ate it at a table for ten people in what is best described as a greenhouse, the pent roof decorated with Tibetan patterns.
The weather, although much cooler than yesterday, was unsure what to do with itself. Fine rain showers punctuated the afternoon as we left town. After pedaling for about half an hour we encountered a pair of men in a booth near the roadside. We were required to hand over ¥5 each to enter the Sanke grasslands area. However we did receive two rather splendid, glossy tickets in return. 20 minutes further and a ‘campsite’ of yurts appeared. We pulled in and organised one for ourselves (¥100). Once oriented, we realised the place was a bit rundown but there wasn’t an abundance of choice in the vicinity. In one area there was a football match of sorts in progress. The odd thing was the players were all monks dressed in traditional robes with football shirts of European teams over the top, some even had boots. Just past this there were a group of younger monks playing cards. They invited us to join them so we chatted for a while. They were quite comical and their joviality quite endearing – very incongruous to the perception of a strict lifestyle of study and prayer. The next hour or so was spent on a short bike ride along the main road exploring a rundown casino – much out of context with its surroundings. After a short rest we ordered our tea and ate it at a table for ten people in what is best described as a greenhouse, the pent roof decorated with Tibetan patterns.
15 July 2010 - After a draughty night in the yurt with rain falling we awoke to a cool, grey but dry morning. It took 45 minutes to cycle back to Xia He, passing numerous groups of pilgrims en route. As the hotel was still closed we cycled through town to buy our bus tickets to Langmusi before returning to the hotel to deposit the bikes and collect luggage. There was a slight delay as they didn’t have the ¥400 deposit they owed us. We collected supplies whilst strolling to the bus station and boarded our transport at 7.30am. The journey was mostly mountainous countryside with tiny Tibetan hamlets amidst fields of wheat and rape. We spilled out in Langmusi just gone midday. We and a German couple were conferring about accommodation when a local overheard and offered the required info (she was also conveniently the proprietor of our hotel). We checked in, wandered around the town then rested for a bit. Tea was a yak burger from Liesha’s – a very popular eatery on the main street.
16 July 2010 - We tried the Snowy Mountain Café next door for breakfast; a friendly, quiet place with great bread but in need of egg-cooking lessons. On the street, bread and fruit were purchased for a day’s trekking. Our map left a deal to be desired but it was better than nowt. Our route took us past a number of nomad camps – dark brown yak hair tents – isolated yaks and over quite undulating terrain. Once the main track petered out we planned a roughly circular route and after a few hours of up and down we identified another track to follow. The highlight of the day was a large bird of prey appearing to leave its nest relatively close to us and circling in search of munch. About an hour out of town the heavens opened. We were soaked to the proverbial. With dry clothes we hit Liesha’s for some exceedingly good chips, aubergine and ‘8 treasures’ tea.
Our room now had an overflowing temporary washing line. We were willing the garments to dry. Sleep came easily and I knew nothing until Bine woke me at 5.50am.
Our room now had an overflowing temporary washing line. We were willing the garments to dry. Sleep came easily and I knew nothing until Bine woke me at 5.50am.
17 July 2010 - It was an early one. Just gone 6 we walked down the street to board our first bus of the day to Zoi ge. ¥22 got us a 2 hour trip through vast plains bordered by green velvety mountains flecked with nomad tents and herds of yak. Arriving at 8.30, we bought tickets for the onward journey then grabbed some noodles for breakfast. There followed a quick meander through the local streets (more bus food) before heading to Songpan. We shared the back seat with a grumpy Chinese man who drunk Coca-Cola, refused our sweets and spent most of the journey texting and a couple of Tibetan ladies who were happy to share our food along with their own bin zi. The trip gradually became more bumpy and culminated in a body-bouncing few Km on the approach to Songpan. Again, first job: buy tickets for the next stretch to Chengdu before they sell out. Accommodation was easy here. We simply walked over the road and found a suitably clean double room for a fiver a night. Hunger pangs then dragged us down the main street for noodles at 3pm before strolling through the town. Satisfied we retuned for a shower and a rest. Tea found us at Emma’s Kitchen for a treat of pizza, burritos, chips and local barley beer!
18 July 2010 - We boarded the jalopy at 7am for the punishing 12 hour haul to Chengdu. The weather was cool and dry. One of the bus side windows was missing (thankfully not on our side). Not a word of protest was aired by the passengers affected. Those nearest the ‘cold gap’ just giggled whilst putting on more clothes. The Chinese are very different from the English. Later, at the next pit-stop, whilst most visited the toilets, the driver and a couple of local handymen fashioned a replacement ‘window’ from some 4 mm plywood. A fair job, considering. The next few hours saw us climbing into the lush, wooded mountains; zig-zagging to the pass up the unfinished, uneven road surface. There didn’t seem to be an appropriate gear for the gradient. The driver was continually changing up and down a gear to compensate. At one point, as we were traveling through one of the many villages en route, a smaller bus overtook ours then stopped abruptly, barring our way. The other driver walked across the tarmac to our bus to deliver some harsh words, seemingly upset with our driver’s road craft or the like. After a few minutes he returned to his vehicle to continue, apparently content. Our bus continued. We remained puzzled as to why we’d stopped at all. A few minutes later our driver overtook the other bus and ‘cut’ the other driver up – he had to brake fiercely and swerve to avoid catastrophe. When we slowed through the next township the other driver pulled past aggressively and furiously left his vehicle for ours. He appeared beside himself with rage, looking like Krusty the Clown with hair flailing at either side of his head. He marched toward our driver’s window brandishing an iron bar –ready for a physical confrontation. Luckily for our driver, most of the other passengers, who had followed, were more intent on preventing a fisticuffs and were pulling the drivers apart before one beat the other to a pulp. The ‘melee’ continued with passers-by pausing for a gander and our passengers helping? with calming comments. Krusty remained angry pulling at our driver’s shirt and threatening him. Our driver didn’t retaliate (his was his rebuke that caused the incident?). The whole shenanigans caused a build-up of traffic which passed when it could; drivers gawping as they did. One passing car was from the local constabulary. Bine and I were half-expecting an arrest or stiff warning to solve the dispute. No. They passed uninterested – not their problem. This is actually quite typical in our experience.
In the next town the bus stopped for a 30 minute lunch break. The few restaurants we’d parked beside were not up our street so we legged it down the road to look for better fare. We found it but time was sprinting on. After ordering a dish and some rice we asked for a speedy service and then a dai zou (take away) when it arrived. We grabbed it and ran (after paying, of course) as we could hear our bus preparing to depart. Bine went ahead - I needed to make a brief stop to ‘uncork the bottle’. It had been a rush but we’d had the best lunch of all on board!
Another 5 hours, albeit on better quality roads, and we were deposited at a bus terminal somewhere in Chengdu. 13 hours! It took a few minutes locate our onward bus stop across town to reach Wanda Plaza. Here we met our host for the following 2 nights (couchsurfing). Starving, we grabbed a MacDonald’s then a rickshaw to Dhane’s flat for a whistle-stop tour before deep sleep.
In the next town the bus stopped for a 30 minute lunch break. The few restaurants we’d parked beside were not up our street so we legged it down the road to look for better fare. We found it but time was sprinting on. After ordering a dish and some rice we asked for a speedy service and then a dai zou (take away) when it arrived. We grabbed it and ran (after paying, of course) as we could hear our bus preparing to depart. Bine went ahead - I needed to make a brief stop to ‘uncork the bottle’. It had been a rush but we’d had the best lunch of all on board!
Another 5 hours, albeit on better quality roads, and we were deposited at a bus terminal somewhere in Chengdu. 13 hours! It took a few minutes locate our onward bus stop across town to reach Wanda Plaza. Here we met our host for the following 2 nights (couchsurfing). Starving, we grabbed a MacDonald’s then a rickshaw to Dhane’s flat for a whistle-stop tour before deep sleep.
19 July 2010 - After a lie-in to compensate for a tiring day yesterday, we nipped nipped down the street for a bowl of noodles before checking train details to Kunming. Priority was booking tickets. Easier said than done. A helpful passenger on our bus to town advised of a booking office. We secured a couple of soft seats for 2 days hence. Not the best option for a 19 hour journey but beggars can’t be choosers. Now the day was ours. Bine had seen possible tours of the Traditional Chinese medicine hospital. After a little running around we found the place which was a hive of activity. It took us a good 15 minutes to find someone who was aware of their foreign affairs office from where tours were conducted. A phone call later and I was apparent that we needed to have called a day in advance to organise an English-speaking guide. However we were free to wander the corridors and visit any room to check out the action. We were surprised by what we saw; Cupping (a flame it introduced to a glass cup before it is placed over a strategic point on the skin to draw out toxins); acupuncture (the lady we observed, with 8 needles stuck in her face, was so still and pale, she appeared to be dead!) and a very busy dispensing pharmacy where numerous masked staff weighed and bagged what looked like dried herbs for eager patients.
A short bus ride took us to People’s Park alive with different activities. We saw tai chi, traditional dancing, bands and singers, games of Chinese chess and sugar art. Bine was even seconded into a game of badminton with some locals. All this excitement and exercise prompted refreshment. We seated ourselves by a small lake in the park and partook of Chinese tea and watched the world go by for an hour or so. We tried to get a Sichuan hotpot for tea. You’d think this was straightforward but no. We headed to near where we were staying to a plaza; they had every other type of food but hotpot. We settled for pizza in the end – better than starving.
A short bus ride took us to People’s Park alive with different activities. We saw tai chi, traditional dancing, bands and singers, games of Chinese chess and sugar art. Bine was even seconded into a game of badminton with some locals. All this excitement and exercise prompted refreshment. We seated ourselves by a small lake in the park and partook of Chinese tea and watched the world go by for an hour or so. We tried to get a Sichuan hotpot for tea. You’d think this was straightforward but no. We headed to near where we were staying to a plaza; they had every other type of food but hotpot. We settled for pizza in the end – better than starving.
20 July 2010 - After settling for an unappetizing brunch we checked our emails and booked some accommodation for our next stop. We then said our ‘goodbyes’ to Camillo the other houseguest and headed out into the sauna to catch a rickshaw to the bus stop. We were determined to eat something local before we left Chengdu so called into a small restaurant near the station. I ordered ‘strange-flavoured chicken’ and didn’t, as we’d been in the habit of doing, ask the price. The dish could have fed 3 people and cost an arm ‘n’ a leg. Bine's wasn’t a quality product and also over-priced. You win some, you lose some. A few minutes later we fought our way through the queues and x-ray machines to our waiting room in the station. An ice cream later we were musing at the things Chinese people take on train journeys; duvets; buckets; carpet etc. At 3.10 we filtered through the ticket check with hundreds of others and onto the K145 to Kunming to prepare for our 20 hour trip on a seat. (all the sleepers had been sold). Shortly after settling into our seats a conductor machine-gunned some Chinese at me concerning our luggage on the overhead rack. With points and nods I moved a case about 6 inches to the left. No, not right. Her tone notched up to irritated but her face remained totally expressionless. I moved another rucksack. Wrong! I do understand some Mandarin but this was Chengdu hua (local dialect) from an angry mouth. I remained the dumb western traveler. Eventually an onlooker turned our case 90 degrees so it protruded less. Oh, I see now. China 1, Eng 0.
Most of the rest of the journey was a blur of broken sleep, reading and listening to the MP3. Kunming appeared bright and bustling the next morning – more than could be said for us.
Most of the rest of the journey was a blur of broken sleep, reading and listening to the MP3. Kunming appeared bright and bustling the next morning – more than could be said for us.
21 July 2010 - Advice from the guide book said a bus would see us right to The Hump hostel. It did. After checking in we set about getting some tickets to Dali, a nearby town apparently worth a visit. On the way back to the hostel, as luck would have it, Bine spotted a train ticket booking office. We were 'in like Flynn'. 2 sleepers to Guilin please. Thank you very much. You have to think ahead when traveling in China. This sounds odd as the Chinese don’t but not planning travel tickets in advance leaves you traveling uncomfortably or not traveling. Back in Kunming, Bine spied a Carrefour (she was definitely awake today) so we bought supplies for the trip to Dali. The evening was spent at The Hump with a thin crisp each washed down with half-price draught.
22 July 2010 - At the long-distance bus station we boarded the bus for the 6 hours of too-loud music, too-loud ring tones and sunflower seed spitting. Another passenger asked for our help in English as we boarded. This was surprising as the person looked Chinese. We discovered Suin was actually South Korean and although understood written Chinese, was less familiar with the spoken. After much confusion with misunderstandings about different bus stations and wasted journeys in rickshaws, the three of us arrived in the old town of Dali by bus and walked the 15 minutes to the Lilly Pad guest house. Starving as we all were, after check-in, we headed into the centre for grub.
23 July 2010 - Suin only had today in Dali before returning home. We had separate plans so said our good byes after breakfast. In town, we hired a brace of bikes with plans to explore the part of town near a lake. Things are rarely what they seem; the map was useless however we eventually found a maze of narrow streets and alleyways, much akin to southern Spain. After many directions from locals we found the lake and associated goings on. We decided to see another village near the lake so returned the bikes (it would have taken too long) and caught a local bus. The place was known for its tie-dying by the local Bai minority people. The market was an interesting gathering of stallholders selling everything from meat to beads to bread to old coins. Satisfied we’d seen most things we bussed it back to Dali. The evening meal was at The Lily Pad after which we had a last stroll through the busy, bright streets of stalls, shops and restaurants in Dali old town.
24 July 2010 - Our return bus to Kunming was early-ish so we showered and ate quickly and made for the stop. The bus unfortunately didn’t drop us where we’d left from so, with time ticking, we used local knowledge to appropriate a taxi to the right place. 10 minutes and ¥6 later and we were showing our bus tickets (and amazingly, receiving a free bottle of water for the journey). Phew. At 9.30 we set off on what was a straight-forward trip. Sorry, not in the dictionary. Due to road works we were forced to take a more rural route through tiny villages, up and down hills and valleys for 2 hours. It made for interesting snapping but was tough on the bum. Approaching 5pm we rolled into Kunming after which 30 minutes on the #82 brought us to near The Hump. En route to our hostel we passed a young street kid who was an amazing contortionist. It looked fantastic but at he same time very bad for his joints in his later life. But a kid like that who barely has enough money to eat and clothe himself is really not too worried about his future health.....
25 July 2010 - After a late night and an early morning of pneumatic drilling outside our window (blocked drains), we broke our fast leisurely and debated the day’s plans. We hesitated due to light but consistent rain and chatted to Diego until it abated. At 11ish we headed out to the market, past the temporary stage where contestants for ‘Kunming’s got Talent’ were being interviewed for local TV and picked up a traditional Chinese tea set. Most of the afternoon was spent wandering around the stalls of markets where one could purchase knives, puppies, birds (the feathered variety), crockery and even large bongs. We accepted a suggestion from RG for our evening meal and after freshening up at the hostel walked to Blue Bird restaurant. Spanish-style place of good quality but a touch on the dear side.
26 July 2010 - After breakfast and a quick search for an Olympus camera shop (Bine’s camera charger had bitten the dust) we passed through the ‘everything’ market, amazed at the variety of good on offer, and headed for Cui Park. Essentially the park was a collection of small lakes, mostly full of big water lilies - lush and green with the occasional pink flower - connected by bridges and pathways. Our next destination was Kunming University. Following a few questionable directions we eventually found the 1930s buildings set in a grassy campus - students either involved in a fierce game of basketball or lying around in the sun. Beyond the uni, in the hip n trendy part of town, we found the richer students and expats. enjoying a relaxing beer or (real) coffee or wandering the tiny streets of expensive boutiques, restaurants and what we were searching for: book shops. We spent an hour perusing an English bookshop before catching the #82 to The Hump for dinner. A bowl of pasta and a few games of draughts later (which Bine won) we turned in early to get a good rest as we anticipated sleep would be at a premium the next night on a train –but we didn’t get one. At 3.30 I awoke to a series of doors being slammed and raised voices coming from the next room. This continued, in my view unnecessarily for 20 minutes before I blew. I wrapped on their door. Quiet. No response. I knocked again determined. Nothing. The third time the door opened. I launched my complaints at two male Chinese ‘boys’ stood in the middle of the room in their underwear. They must have been about 20 but looked younger, maybe through shock or fear. I finished and heard a few ‘sorrys’ on my way out but nothing after this until a pneumatic drill gave its all at 7.30.
27 July 2010 - By 8.20 we were up and out, wandering passed varied street vendors and tai qi classes on our way to Carrefour for ‘train food’. It was easy enough to grab a stick of huang gua (cucumber). The tricky part was getting it weighed. One has to fight to keep one’s place in Chinese queues. Sleepy-eyed tourists will soon be relieved of it if the locals see any opportunity. We checked out and bussed to the station. By 10.30 we were berthed and under way. After a few negotiations to obtain top bunks I settled for a short nap to make up for lost sleep while Bine read her new book (liberated from a hostel somewhere in Kunming). We made soft cheese, cucumber and tomato sandwiches for lunch with Pringles and plums to finish… heaven. I spent the afternoon sat by the window snapping the green hills, rice fields or swathes of corn lush and tall from the wet and humid climate of this region. A fan bian mian (pot noodle) for tea we strolled to the dining car to fill up be for bed.
28 July 2010 - After a broken night – passengers leaving-boarding the train at 4.30 – I broke camp at 7.40 and wrote my diary, waiting for Bine, to have breakfast together. Guilin appeared at 10.30 where we bought our onward tickets to Beijing. No luck. Only hard seats remained. Was there a sleeper bus? We bussed to the south station to check this. As we approached the station a lady with a ‘stall’ asked ‘Nimen qu nar li?’ (where are you going?). For joke we replied ‘Beijing’. To our amazement she said ‘you’ (I have). We bargained the price down a bit then booked the bus. We would live to regret this decision. Just as we were concluding our business, a local chap tapped me on the shoulder and asked if he could help. To cut a long conversation short, he could. We booked a Li river boat trip with him and within the half-hour were off. A minibus took us from the suburbs of Guilin into the greener scapes of Guangxi and dropped us by the Li where we met our captain. The boat was a 12’ by 4’, pseudo bamboo affair with a minimal plastic roof and a modified lawnmower engine. It did the business and we cruised the river amazed by the sheer, rocky mountains surrounding us. Exactly 1½ hours later we hopped off and immediately started bargaining for the short minibus ride to the centre of Xingping. 20 minutes and ¥8 later we had a bowl of noodles and a rest before catching a local bus to Yangshou. As expected we were press-ganged into choosing accommodation the minute we stepped off the bus. Hey, we were wet, sticky and tired. We needed it. So the International Student Hotel it was then (certainly not the Ritz). No complaints: private bathroom and free interweb. Priority was decent fodder. We found an Aussie bar down a back street and enjoyed chilli and beer.
29 July 2010 - A western breakfast saw us right before we cleared off with a brace of bikes to explore. There was not a spot of rain when we set out on our planned meandering of the local countryside but ½ hour later it started to drizzle - and didn’t stop. Reliant on locals for directions again, we suffered a few false starts and wrong turns and eventually came to a tourist village. A couple of dodgy-looking characters wanted to charge us ¥20 for the privilege of going down what they professed was an ancient road of signicifcance value!. No thanks. After a couple of hours of minimal progress we re-assessed using our dated excuse for a map and found a back road which followed the Yulong river in a more secluded area. The rain subsided but it remained muddy underfoot. We passed pomelo and lime trees before encountering a river crossing. Here, truck-loads of ‘punts’ were literally tipped into the river then caught and prepared for more tourists wishing to cruise back to the town. We selected an alternative route and wound our way back to Yangshou, grabbing noodles on the way. The two other (Chinese) families staying at our hotel were dead keen to talk to us but particularly interested in us giving their offspring English lessons. We worked out a deal with them and the hotel boss and spent a couple of hours that evening at the hotel and wandering the main street speaking English to the kids. Our ‘wages’ paid for a nice evening meal in a very un-Chinese, and quite up-market, vegetarian restaurant overlooking a stream.
30 July 2010 - The next morning we walked into what had been the throbbing hub of Yangshou a few hours earlier, to calm streets and ate banana pancakes and drank an OJ. Back at the hotel we checked emails, packed then headed for the bus back to Guilin (¥15). Two hours later we were leaving the long-distance bus station for a rainy walk to our Couchsurfer’s flat. Luck was with us and the bus dropped us right outside the apartment block where our host met us. After formalities and unpacking, we hit the streets to investigate the city. We managed an hour or so before the rain set in again. We sheltered for a while then cut our losses and walked ‘home’. Dinner was a plate of cheap n cheerful egg fried rice. Couldn’t grumble at ¥6.
31 July 2010 - For the first time in a few days alarms woke us this morning. Our hosts ran an English school and we’d promised to make an appearance to talk with some students to help their conversation. At 10 we set off on our travels once again. First we traveled from the bus station to Longsheng. Two hours later we arrived in another grubby, rural town where we switched busses for the final ¥9’s worth of travel. We shared the bus with some tourists (one American and a few Chinese) and a bunch of local Bai folk. One local was drunk and happy to delight our ears! with a rendition of some ancient ditty. We wound our way along the mud track through steep, narrow valleys to the world-renown rice terraces of Longji. The journey had taken longer than anticipated, leaving us little time with which to view the terraces. We quickly downed a pot noodle then set off at a brisk pace up the track then the precarious stone paths. The views at each level were stunning: in every direction the mountainsides were ‘carved’ with were hand-cut steps where billions of rice plants thrived and had for hundreds of years. Many photos later we rushed back to the bus stop to discover a quicker minibus but which wasn’t leaving for another ½ hour! We shared the minibus with some other tourists and on our return to the city, all had dinner together
1 August 2010 - A bus took us to the train station where we enjoyed a western breakfast in a nearby hostel. We returned to the long-distance bus lady at 12.30 to wait for our bus. At 1.30 a man appeared and we, and about 10 others, mini-bussed to a suburb to wait again. And wait, And wait. Finally a tuck tuck transported us to the waiting bus at 4.30. Were we going to arrive in Beijing on time? Our flight to Moscow wouldn’t wait! Nobody could (or would) give any details about our arrival. The bus slowly wandered the city collecting far too many passengers – they were sleeping in the isles! As the night grew on our anxieties forced us to call our NV colleagues. They spoke to the drivers and we managed to arrange to be dropped off at some services and collected by Ray (one of our NVs) and his father. This happened, at 5 in the morning, where we drove to the centre of Wuhan. Ray’s father organised a hotel for us where we had no more than a couple of hours kip befor we met Ray to book a flight from Wuhan to Beijing (to hopefully meet our Moscow flight!). We were lucky and were left with a free day in Wuhan in the blistering heat. We three bussed across town to the Bank of China head office so Bine could draw some sterling. The end of the afternoon became a rush. We needed to access the airport in good time but it was rush hour. Ray came good again. He sorted a taxi to expedite us directly to the terminal. We made it.
The rest was comparatively plain sailing: waiting departure lounges and sitting plane seats enjoying delicious airline food!
The rest was comparatively plain sailing: waiting departure lounges and sitting plane seats enjoying delicious airline food!
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