Out again we go, it was gone 10pm at that stage, looking for a taxi feeling defeated and tired. Holding out the directions they were snapped up by a bloke grinning slyly, who via his phone, asked for ¥80. We knocked him down to 45 knowing it should be 40.
"Ok ok ok", grinning again at us. He beckoned for us to follow him. He began "I bring you to Yangshuo tomorrow? Yangshuo? Tomorrow."
"No we're very tired. Maybe another day" we were trying to keep him sweet ('why?' you would wonder)
"Ok. Tomorrow I bring you to Yangshuo?" and he continued to push this all the time we walked with him. I let Frank ahead as I could feel myself wanting to shout at the guy to shut the hell up and just get us to the hostel. I wondered 'Is he not going to bring us to the hostel if we say no?' We walked across the car park, then the bus park ('why hasn't he parked up near the station?'), over a barrier and down the much quieter end of the road ('I don't like this'). There were 8 foot high boards on our right - like those round a building site - he walked through these into a car park entrance ('this is how people get mugged'). I slowed up scanning for anyone else in this hidden "taxi" car park. No one else was there but it didn't stop me scanning. No offical looking taxi's either. Just regular cars. His "taxi" turned out to be a Golf Polo looking thing. No taxi plate. No numbers. Nothing remotely taxi about it. He opened the doors and we took our bags off and looked at each other,
"I don't like this."
"I don't this either."
"Right lets go back."
We promptly walked off. He didn't follow us, thankfully.

An actual taxi pulled up, painted red with a light green/yellow roof (we'd seen many in Xi'an) we showed him the address and got in felt more offical. Still on edge from the last encounter we strained to keep an eye on road names. There was no Zhongshan Road near us. The journey seemed a little too long and when we approached a tunnel we were in panic mode. Scared we were going the wrong way we got him to pull over. After a tense minute or two of him trying to tell in Chinese where we were going he called the  hostel on his phone. More exasperated Chinese words and the lady at the hostel reassured us he was going the right way - a quicker in fact, avoiding traffic. Tired and timid, the rest of the journey was taken in near silence. We got there and we smiled and hugged the taxi man giving him ¥50 instead of the ¥35 be asked for, for the trouble. He got it then, laughed and hugged us back, nodding.
"Xie xie! Xie xie!"

At check in the lady at the counter, Julie smiled at us broadly and asked us if we were ok.
'We're here now and safe. Safe.' I told myself not to think about what might have happened as we needed the rest. While there in a relieved daze I peered at the counter. A menu, a book about tours on the River Li, a bamboo ride, the Dragon's Backbone, a sleeper bus to Hong Kong and a sister hostel in Yanghou.

Straight to bed. It was gone 11pm and adrenaline had ceased. The beds were comfy the room was big, with a toilet and shower and it was only a four bed dorm - two beds were occupied, one Chinese guy and one Indian guy.
I conked out right away, no need for ear plugs I was out for the count.

A little later in the night I dreamt I could here someone shouting,
"I didn't travel halfway across China to listen to you...",
I wasn't dreaming. Alas the adrenaline hadn't quite pitted out for Frank. Whoever it was who was snoring wasn't quiet the tonic needed for a good nights sleep apparently...
"Lie on your side or something!"
I must've felt better as my sense of humour came back,
'Uh oh. Awkward!' I thought, 'Well at least that'll make a funny story!'