Matt and Katherine from Beijing / Manchester and the Lonely Planet all told us that Yangshuo was well worth visiting, despite the notorious "hawkers" (a term we've learnt to describe locals who hassle tourists for business of some sort). And they were right! Plus, it was on our route to Vietnam anyway.

But it was a nightmare of a journey to get there, taking three full days, as opposed to the one and a half we'd hoped for. Our plan being to take a three hour bus journey to Hangzhou and then a nineteen hour overnight sleeper train to Guilin, followed by a second bus, this time just an hour and a half on to nearby Yangshuo. Problem one, however, was that we didn't manage to drag our arses to Huangshan bus station until lunchtime on our day of departure (which I'm sure will surprise no-one who knows us!). Problem two was that our first destination, Hangzhou, is no ordinary city, it's a Chinese city, and is therefore, in global terms, abnormally massive relative to its apparent national significance. It took an hour on a local bus to get from the bus station to the train station to buy our tickets. An hour! Problem three was that by the time we got to the train station there were no tickets left to travel left that day (possibly foiled once again by the Shanghai Expo, this time people trying to leave it, not reach it), so we had to spend a night in Hangzhou. Either that or the lady at the ticket office knew we just didn't have time to get to the train station our train actually departed from (hence caused by a combination of problems one and two), which wasn't the main central one, but the "South" train station, an hour and a half away on a local bus. Surely it can't be the same city when it takes an hour and a half to get there on a bus! It takes less than that to drive from Manchester to Birmingham! And to cap it all off, there were only hard seats left, no sleeper berths, so not entirely comfortable for a nineteen hour overnight journey!

But we got there in the end! And spent three very pleasant days there, cycling and hiking between the "Karst" peaks and alongside the local rivers. Amazing and very distinct features, the Karst rocks are scattered throughout the plains of the region, each between about fifty and a couple of hundred metres high. For anyone who's been to Vietnam, think Halong Bay with golden green rice paddies instead of the sea. Which I hadn't at the time, so I imagined the rocks to be far more unique than it turns out they really are. In fact, I've just this second googled it, and Wikipedia informs me they're found on every continent except Antarctica, the nearest location being Scotland. Right, OK, let me rephrase! The commonly found Karst rocks are scattered...

In some ways, Yanshou seemed to bridge the gap a bit, culturally, between China and the rest of South East Asia. Not so good in some ways, as it was slightly less friendly at times, and more Western tourist orientated, the hawkers being representative of that. On the plus side, though, there was slightly less spitting going on! Not sure if I've mentioned this already on the blog, but if I haven't, spitting is a national habit. Less so in Beijing, where we were told the authorities had made a real effort to educate the locals and stamp it out prior to the Olympics, but outside the capital there was clearly no change. When I say spitting, it's not just average spitting that goes on, but stuff that makes professional footballers seem like by well mannered young gentlemen by comparison. Firstly, there's always a massive yock (if that's the right word?) prior to the spit, a proper phlegmmy, throat clearing effort, which is pretty disgusting. Secondly, and even more disgusting, is that the Chinese are quite happy to carry out the subsequent ejection of the "yock" indoors or outdoors! So you'll find it happening in the aisle of the train, on the bus, in shops, etc. And frequency is the final element of the spitting culture worth mentioning, as outside of Beijing, you won't be able to walk down a street without hearing it every few seconds! Very unpleasant, all in all, but as I say, seemingly less common in Yangshou than other further North, which was a nice bit of respite.

One more thing I have to mention, the (not unique, I'm sure) public toilet at the Yangshuo bus station. Grim, but hilarious! Normal urinals to the right hand side (thankfully my requirement), and the number two receptacles to the left, which consisted of a trench running the length of the room, stud walls no more than a metre high around each "cubicle", and open doorways. In short, no privacy whatsoever, and I turned around having finished at the urinal to see an elderly Chinese gentleman not a yard from me, cigarette lit in one hand and a reading something on a piece of paper in the other, happily squatting there doing his business! I didn't stay to watch the wipe.

Oh, sorry, one more thing I've just remembered to add. We spotted an even more extensive range of "fresh produce" in the local markets in Yangshuo, this time including snails, frogs, turtles and dogs! Well, I didn't personally spot a live dog, just a few skinned ones for sale, hanging from hooks, but I was assured by a Dutch couple staying in the same guesthouse as us, who had also been to the market earlier in the day, that there were definitely some there!