We spent a very enjoyable couple of days in Lijiang in south west China. Like England in general, or London, the prettiest bits of China appear to be in the south west. Lijiang has lovely cobbled streets and small streams running through most of them. It was the most 'charming' place we have been to in China so far, and at last we seemed to be away from all the smoke and smog.

We decided to split up for the morning and A-M wandered the streets whilst Dave went in search of a Chinese haircut. This was a partial success. Given that the only instruction that could be conveyed was 'shorter' then it is hard to complain when the end result is a 'number 1' all over... At the end, the stylist (apparently) indicated whether gel was required. a nod was given. The next thing that happened was being asked to choose from a list (in Chinese) of options handed over next to big reclining baths where they obviously washed ones hair. In the spirit of adventure, the 'middle' priced option was chosen. 20 minutes later after washing, conditioner, head massage, hand massage, arm massage and neck massage, the verdict was that a wise choice must have been made...

A-M got over the initial shock of the new lack of hair, and after lunch a resolution was made to seek out more extensive massages for all the party. 30 minute back massages were the order of the day. It is fair to say that these were 'robust' massages. Our muscles have by now just about recovered. We had another fiery local meal in the evening. Chinese tourists seemed impressed by our choice and 'toasted' us as well as taking our photos. We tried to pick out and avoid the worst excesses of the chillis this time.

The next morning we were up and about fairly early as we headed off towards Tiger Leaping Gorge. Our inter-urban-bus planning did not go perfectly. There are some very good reasons why we started at the North bus station, then went to the South bus station, then back to the North bus station, before finally leaving from the South bus station. But we won't bore you with the details...

We got to Quetao (at one end of the world's largest gorge) quite a bit later than we had planned, so got a taxi to the 'other' end of the route with the plan to get accomodation for the night and be up bright and early the next morning to tackle the gorge. There were 2 tour groups (Hanoi to Beijing) staying at the hotel, so we had a great night of swapping travellers tales, which included making one Chinese tour guide's night by asking him 'can you smell what The Rock...is... cooking' (this relates to wresling by the way), teaching Naxi locals how to do 'The Nutbush', playing Chinese drinking games and so forth. China is very much a 'cash' country and we had miscalculated on how much we would need for the trip. At one point one of the tour groups heard Dave pleading 'I'll give up a meal tomorrow if I can have another beer' (Dali, very good) and took pity by insisting on buying us a drink. It was much appreciated. A-M found some Aussies who knew The Lords (Hurstbridge family) thus proving the world to be a small place.

The next mornign one of the tour groups had decided to have a lie in, but we were up (or rather down) to the middle rapids to see the actual point at which a tiger had (allegedly) leapt across. A stiff 1 hr climb back to the hotel was then followed by starting our walking proper. We headed up and away on the 'high' road for around 8hrs of walking for the day. The views were terrific and it was good to be off the beaten path (a very low number of Chinese tourists do the route, its quite a high % of backpackers). By 5pm we had arrived at the 'Naxi Family Guesthouse' which was pleasant, although its promise of 'hot showers' proved slightly untrue. Again we met up with some interesting folk (german travellers who were working in Guangzhou, Aussie travellers who had quit jobs in Hong Kong and were travelling back to Sydney) and a cordial night of drinks was had, as we swapped travel disaster stories and discussed the hacking and hawing that precedes the frequent Chinese spitting that is unavoidable in all situations (even on a bus journey, though at least those with a window spit out of it. Aisle seats generally spit on the floor or into a bucket if there is one). 

Next day we were up and away for a 1.5hr walk back to Quetao, and picked up a bus back to Lijiang which had started in the evocatively named 'Shangri La'. A quick stop for cash, to pick up our washing, and our backpacks, before a brisk journey back to the bus station and onwards to Dali...