A Deep Breath

*This post was originally an email sent on the 19th of July


*Pictures to come


Wee hoo. Just arrived in Yangshuo; it's late but this place is open 24/7 and I don't feel like sleeping. I have four days here, so tomorrow is for sleeping in and resting, and remember when I said the two most beautiful places in the world last time? Yeah, I hadn't seen the view from atop my hostel here by night. I cannot begin to describe it, so I'll just show you this picture by way of explanation: 

Ugh, I can't embed images. Anyway, attachment no. 1.

And now, I guess, to dive into the last week of madness:

I left you, I believe, when I had just arrived in Chengdu, and was sitting, chilling, having a beer and anticipating seeing the pandas the next day. They were adorable, to every degree of adorableness you can comprehend. The tour group organised through the hostel (Sim's Cozy Garden, if you're ever in Chengdu, is about the most perfect a hostel can be) was a little, then a lot claustrophobic, so I made a friend - a Ukrainian-Israeli molecular biologist - and we left the group to spend a more reasonable amount of time exploring the museums, kitchen, and vet on-site. Finally leaving, we were hungry and so found a Lonely Planet recommended cafeteria in which to sample a variety of Sichuan foods, which were good, though occasionally surprising, and then had to rush back to the hostel to meet the bus to go to a Sichuan Opera. The show was more a variety performance than what we would consider an opera, and most of it was completely lost on non-Mandarin speakers. Three items, though, were entertaining: An asian violinist, by which I mean someone playing an Asian violin (an instrument held vertically), rather than an asian playing a violin, though the violinist was in fact of Mongoloid descent. Secondly, a shadow puppeteer, which may sound boring, but was actually fascinating, as he made a whole array of animals appear and march past, often interacting with each other, as the dog which ate a rabbit, piece by piece. Finally, the big draw card, the point of the whole affair: Sichuan mask-changing. Essentially a one-trick magic act, it was still performed with so much theatre (and accompanied fire-breathing), that you could watch for ages, though it lasted only 5-10 minutes. 

The next day began my travels in earnest. I had nothing but a train ticket to neighbouring Chongqing, and no hostels booked or plans from there, except that I knew I wanted to head into central Hunan, and find a small village somewhere there to stay in. Not a very comprehensive plan, and it quickly began to falter. 

I caught the train to Chongqing, my first rail travel in China, no problem. A rapid 3 hours later I was in Chongqing, where I was kicked from an Internet cafe because I didn't have a chinese ID card, by a tiny impotent angry little man I wanted to kick for the sneer of contempt he gave me as I left. I quickly decided that I loved the city itself, though. It's like something out of a computer game, like a massive game of 3D tetris. It's built across all the hills, with rivers running between, so all the highways are hundreds of metres in the air, and the streets and buildings are all built on levels. There's not a straight road anywhere in the city, and that, combined with the persistent rain and cloud (blocking the sun, and hence my sense of direction), led to me getting badly lost later, and unable to find my way back to the bus terminal. Chongqing's claim to fame is its hotpot, Hougou in Mandarin, which I finally sampled at a small greasy kitchen in a street full of the same. It was hot, but it didn't warrant the disbelieving looks, and constant warnings the locals were giving me as I ordered it. "First, are you sure you want to eat hotpot?" a local girl who could speak some English and so helped me with the menu asked. It was tasty though. The sweat on my upper lip was burning by the time I was done. 

After the guy at the Internet cafe, I was further enraged as I tried to get back to the bus terminal (lost, as earlier explained), and not a single taxi would pick me up. That made me angry, and frustrated. Luckily I managed to find known terrain and get to the bus, just on time. As I got on the bus, though, all the bus drivers started shouting something at me, which I could not understand, even after they wrote it down for me in full Chinese characters (because while I don't speak Mandarin, perhaps I can read it?). Eventually a 12-year old schoolchild was found to come and translate, which she did on a handy translation machine, which came up telling me to do something with bosoms and hearts. OK, I said, I understand, let's go. And off we went. 

It turns out that message should have read that I had to leave the bus on the edge of my destination city, at 3am. I woke at 7, managed to demonstrate my position by waving my ticket about, and got taken to another bus station and sent back on yet another bus. This one populated by really rural people. One old man got on shirtless and proud, ignoring the pained squirmish of the woman he sat next to, and lit up a cigarette under the no smoking sign. When the bus attendant asked him to put it out he was shouted down by some of the other passengers, some of whom started to smoke themselves. Good times. Oh, and this was the beginning of the realm of people ugly as sin, though I was perhaps influenced by my thoroughly bad mood at that point. 

Three hours later I arrived in Huaihua, which goes down in my memory as the one city to which you could not pay me to return. This place was ugly, to match its inhabitants, and I stood in the queue at the train station for over an hour, waiting to move the 20m to the front, as fights broke out around me, professional line-jumpers took money to buy (other) people's tickets quicker, and sullen-looking pretty boys (though not really), stood around trying to butt in line without having the daring to actually do it properly. I have looked into the maw of hell, and it is in Huaihua. 

Once I got my ticket the train itself was awful. It broke down on the line three times. The 2 hour ride took 4 hours, and several times the train staff, wearing uniforms with actual, poke a pencil through them holes, walked up and down hawking pseudo-religious charms and protection bangles. Only 5 yuan, and with all the charm and authenticity that much money can buy you. 

And yet, arriving in Jishou, it changed all at once. People were smiling, I told a local outside the train station where I wanted to go (my Mandarin stretches that far), and she pointed me to a bus 20m away that would take me. The bus ride was smooth and entertaining, and the terrain lush and gorgeous. I arrived in Dehang. This is the first of the two beautiful places I mentioned. Have a look at the pictures: Attachment 2+3. I slept in a tiny inn overlooking the tiny river, whilst being overshadowed by the immense karst peaks all around. That evening I went to a walk to China's highest waterfall (quoth Lonely Planet), and saw no one but locals and villagers. I raced a group of children along a slate path through rice paddies. Bliss. The next morning I found a scramble that a local maintained and, as someone who has done some crazy climbs and scrambles, this one gave me serious pause. It was all fine and easy until I reached the ladder you can see in picture 4. That cliff above the ladder was steep. Best of all, on reaching the top, you can loop up the cliff and come around to a tiny entrance to a massive cave. I have hundreds of pictures of that cave, as my camera flash was my only source of light. None of them are worth looking at though: mostly they're pictures of shoes. 

Getting back I showered and set off for Fenghuang, down the road. As the local bus I was taking came within 20km of the city we were stopped by a wall of traffic. It seems Feghuang is one of China's top destination for domestic tourism, and I was arriving on a Friday afternoon in the middle of the holidays. With no hostel booked. Nevertheless, it worked out, I found a room - expensive for China, cheap for Fenghuang in tourist season - and explored the town. For the second time in as many days, I was in raptures. That city by night (or, more specifically, the old town) is incredibly beautiful. I just walked for hours before having dinner and retired for a very deep sleep. Take a look at the pics: 4+5. 

Leaving the next day (after further ramblings), was supposed to be a simple affair: bus to Huaihua (ignoring the rail terminal), then transfer to an overnight bus for Guilin, the access point to the idyllic town of Yangshuo. However, all the best laid plans of mice go awry during a Chinese tourist rush. All buses for Huaihua were, inexplicably, cancelled, and so I joined the crowd waiting to take the only other bus going to a nearby town: Jishuo. These factors comprised the problem: 1. Chinese people cannot, do not, and will not queue: when a bus arrives, it's a deadly race for the door. 2. The buses seat about 33 people, but at any one time, at least 60 people were waiting for the bus. 3. I was carrying my massive bag which was awkward and, moreover, I refuse to "queue" as the Chinese did, because, frankly, I'm larger than most of them and someone will get hurt. As it was someone got knocked over by a bus the crowd pushed her in front of, though thankfully she was alright, and I think she managed to fight her way onto that bus. Five buses come and gone, and I split a taxi to Jishou with a Chinese guy and two Americans who were in the same position. No way I was going back to Huaihua train station, so I just caught a train from Jishou as far south toward Guilin as it could take me, which is how I ended up in the very plain city of Sanjiang. 

This worked out, as I met other travellers getting off the train who were in the same position, and together we managed to find a (relatively) cheap hotel, from which I sent my recent, short missive. Moreover, I found that the following day, if I was quick, I could get up early and see the Chengyang wind a rain bridge (which is just an awesome name), as well as get across to Longsheng and do the 4/5 hour (according to the book, and so probably 3 hours) trek through the rice terraces. Again, this didn't quite work out, but this time for nice reasons, as I woke up late and then met a number of other travellers, and decided to stay in Longsheng an extra day to do the trek I hadn't time for that day in their very pleasant company. That was today. I caught all my buses easily and on time, made it to Yangshuo, found the hostel, explored a bit, and then went on the roof and took the picture I first showed you, after scraping my jaw off the ground. I have three and a half days here, before heading to Hong Kong, and so many things to do, yet again, that I'm going to have to be strict with myself about resting. 

To that end...

Anthony

p.s ack, once again, China's internet is defeating me. I'll try to append further pics tomorrow.