Goodbye Tengchong!

After 3 hours rumbling amidst the clouds on the mountains we encounter the mouth of the Nu Jiang valley and it is instantly breathtaking. With another 4 hours to go we expected the beauty of the area to succumm to ordinary but it never does. A valley that sometimes becomes a gorge with immense high ridges of green or bare limestone streaked with colour. There are quaint bridges (quaint can sometimes mean dangerous) and small villages/ towns en route.

Our goal today is a town called Liuku, and maybe an overnight bus to take us all of the way north. About 20km away we reach a checkpoint, alongside a Burmese couple (they scan everyones identity card at random stations here to keep a check on, who knows, where everyone is maybe?) we are shuffled off the bus to have our passports checked and a form completed in the slowest manner possible, and close enough to the multiple glaring faces smudged against the bus windows.

'What job you have' ...after a discussion regarding the concept of one being a Scuba Dive Instructor we agreed midway on 'Teacher'.

Disappointed would describe our feelings as we approached the dense construction site that is Liuku. It is just honestly massive and cuts into the valley with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. Wham, here it is, and within an instant you forget being sad because the valley doesn't really exist anymore, just another city in the middle of another highway, the bumpy ride to get here must have been a myth. There are huge Chinese symbols etched into the valley side like hollywood... the outlines of which even change colour during the night. It is kind of spectacular how much nature has been utterly depleted and you cannot help but find yourself marvel at the atrocity.

Taking a walk to find accomodation (of course no night buses) we wander the streets and enter what seems to be a huge deserted city. As if designed for some mass landing of a species the rest of us havn't heard about or a nuclear war safe zone Liuku has built an entire new city next to its regular and lived in old one. There are banks, government buildings, a glistening 20 story hotel and tens upon tens of apartment blocks yet there is not a whisper from anything other than the rumble of cranes continuing their creation spree. It borders on eerie and after being refused entry at the aforementioned massive hotel we are kind of escourted off the premises but also out of the new city as if it were some big secret, it's big I'll give them that.

We head in the direction of the old town, and after a few minutes are enveloped in more normal civilisation than one consistently comprising of machinery and empty concrete structures. Theres food places and traffic lights with real traffic at them, an bank with clercs and, wait for it, places to stay. Haha fat chance, two feet in the door and the man at the desk stares us out while shaking his head rather violently. Hoping to meet equally friendly folk we continue our shelter expedition but end up visiting three more similar looking hotels who all entreated in the same prevalent head shaking, its really a wonder they dont suffer more neck injuries here.

That is it, no more of this, it is time for drastic action. First, to the supermarket where we can stock up on all sorts of goodies; Second, take refuge at one of the local eateries for as long as they will sell us beer and Third, take shelter upon some curb with the dim glow of a distant light and get pissed before watching films until our 7am ride the next morning. Genius.

Our hardcore endeavours came to an abrupt finish around 2 hours later. We had recently passed a brightly lit messy room with a solitary man smoking away on his cigarette bong before finding a semi comfortable curb upon which we would accept our fate. This man, on an attempt to find some fresh air I am sure, took some steps outside and immediately upon spotting us began jabbering away incoherently while using hand signals to suggest that we accompany him inside. Since there were no negative vibes felt by either of us we obliged, the clinching factor being that he lifted the roller doors to one of the yellow brick units to reveal a usable toilet.

For all my b****ing and anger at the absolute mess that has become Chinas finest valley, one of the most treasured ecosystem of our time, I look at the smile from this half toothed old man and the warm tea and shelter he is pressing upon me and I realise the dilemma. Chinas population at 1,338,300,000 has already increased in the time in took me to write the numbers, and the question proposed is not only where do we put everyone but also where on earth can the jobs come from to sustain such masses. Would I have the heart to take away the pride work of this kindly gentleman, the hard labour he endures in order to support his 2 daughters with their education. Because that was it, he was a father of 2 daughters, and seeing us on the curbside stirred thoughts of his own, he makes a call and passes me the phone to talk to his youngest Lisa, she loves the experience of an English conversation and I try to express our gratitude to her dad.

Not only were we given tea and encouraged to share the tar embedded smokes of the workers but when Moor and his fellows retired for the night he insisted we take his bed, a board and blanket set against a corner of a working garage complete with blueprints (the envisioned constructions funnily enough always had a few well dressed westerners about to enter... but weve only seen one so far), workbenches, motorcycles and general mess. We curl up together and are thankful for the simple shelter we have been given before our early awakening, quick semi-wash using the outside common taps and boarding a northbound bus deeper into the valley.