Southern China – Don’t believe the propaganda!

It must be said, prior to our venture into communist China we had heard a lot of negative news about travelling around the country: The people don’t smile or talk English, making ordering food or catching a train very difficult. The Chinese take pride in ripping you off, their manners are foul and they are unhelpful towards tourists. Food is mostly unrecognisable, where the Chinese only eat dog, cat and even monkey (also spiced donkey!). The toilets are foul - ok, well this part is correct, where troughs have no door providing any form of privacy and the smell of the often unflushed ‘disposals’ is enough to make even the hardiest of stomachs turn. However, we have found all of the other negative information to be purely propaganda, China is amazing. So much so, that we felt that we needed to write at least two blogs on the country, as there is so much to say.
We landed (quite literally) on our feet. Having sat next to Bo (Chinese for Paul) on our flight from Bangkok, we were extremely lucky to meet an English speaking 24 year old, ex tour guide who happened to live in the first city that we visited - Guangzhou. We talked at length on the plane about China, its culture and what we could do here, and later we were offered a guided tour around Bo’s hometown the following day. Bo helped us to find our accommodation and settle into our first night in China, before meeting up the following morning for our guided tour. We started the day with our first taste of Chinese dim sum. Bo took us to a restaurant that looked like it were equipped for a wedding: waitresses in brides maid dresses, large circular tables draped in silk table cloths, all amongst the setting of a man made moat. But in fact, this was business as usual, and indeed commanded the pallets of the hundreds of locals who were enjoying their late breakfast. We sampled many dishes, but the star of the show was the sticky rice with pork, wrapped in banana leaf!

Bo then took us to the fascinating Pet market, the likes of which we have never seen. On sale here were the most adorable of fluffy puppies and kittens, alongside turtles, tortoises, coral reef fish, even stingrays and small sharks could be purchased. We also found large fish tanks on sale, kitted out with live coral growing inside, in order to create the perfect conditions for the Nemo’s or Angelfish that could be purchased here. We then visited the famous tea markets, where Bo’s friend talked us through 3 different varieties of tea, Ulong, Green, and Brown leaf tea, and here we were able to see the intricate methods of preparing the tea. Here they even use the tea to clean the equipment and cups before they begin the process, with no concerns for making a mess.

Our day trip was complete with a cruise down Pearl river in the evening, where the lights of the city illuminate the river bank in stunning style. With every building trying to outdo one another in this light display, the communication tower trumped them all by being able to change colour and pattern in sequence. A fantastic start to our trip!! Our second day in Guangzhou was less eventful, but even here we took in the sights of the Yuexiu park and the Mausoleum of the Nanyue King. We also go to flavour of the communal way of living in the park. Elderly men playing cards with younger men watching, grey haired adults testing their muscles on the outdoor gym equipment, middle-aged women singing and dancing, stretching or chatting in parks. Who says China is suppressed!

With Bo helping us book our tickets, our onward travel proved easy. Well, apart from the fact that our nightbus which we thought was arriving at 7am somehow manage to arrive at our destination, Yangzhou, at 2am. 5 hours earlier than planned and certainly not the best time of night to find a bed, we settled for the only available option, two single (and damp) beds for a heavy price, sold to us by a local night porter who could not speak a word of English, and would rather have returned to his computer screen to finish watching the playboy videos that were occupying his attention!

The next morning we set to finding better value and quality accommodation, and in doing so wandered through the quirky pedestrianised streets of the town. With several canals flowing through the town, bridges connecting the lanes and old style buildings completing the infrastructure, we found Yangshou to be a charming and romantic town. The charm was also to do with the fact that the town is surrounded by two rivers and endless humps of karst limstones cliffs, making it a truly stunning setting. This made the location a hugely popular resort with the Chinese tourist, and worse news was to follow. Little did we know it was the ‘Dragons boat race festival’ on the weekend that we arrived, and so hoards of Chinese tourists had flocked to the town. It was hard to get away from the crowds that swamped the streets and hotels. However it did create an energetic atmosphere.

Our first day began with a short walk through the souvenir markets and organising our itinerary for days that followed. We also visited the local farmers market, where the usual fruit, veg, and spices were sold alongside cooped up chickens and ducks in cages, ready to be killed and sold, and skinned dogs having from hooks – Lottie pledged not to eat meat from this point onwards. First on our agenda was a cycle alongside the Yulong River, at least that was the aim. As we weaved through the stunning limestone cliffs, across rice paddy fields, through local villages whilst at the same time stopping for plenty of snaps of horses grazing, people working in the fields, or Bamboo rafts floating done the river, we somehow lost our sense of direction. We were no longer beside the river, nor did we know where it was. In the large town that we had stumbled into, we found directions back to the river and ‘Dragon’s Bridge’ where we stopped for a bite to eat and a quick dip in the river to cool down. Our return journey proved interesting, with Paul insisting we stick to the river at all times, we followed the narrowest of paths through the local crops, and when the rain came it wasn’t long before Lottie lost her balance and fell into a rice field, much to Paul’s amusement! We then cycled onto Moon Hill, where we were snuck into the walkway up to this hollow moon-shaped viewpoint by a couple of old dears trying to make a quick buck. Weaving through the jungle, this old local led us to a path for 10Y (saving 20Y), and pointed towards the 800 steps that led us to the summit. It is on days like these when you can really assess your fitness levels. Lottie was struggling in race with an 80yr old Grandma carrying an ice box on her back full of cold drinks, the lady reaching the top first with barely a bead of sweat to be seen. Give Lottie some dues however; she had already cycled 30km that day!

The next day we went to a local village called Fuli. The now large town has a small stretch that has kept its charm, hosting a line of old buildings on a pebbled street. The locals here are famed for their handmade silk fans, however, had it not been for the intervention of a charming Israeli couple, this might have proved to be disappointing as there was little to do. Instead, we were invited onto a Bamboo raft by the couple along with their guide Allen. We cruised down the Li river, and chatted in great depths about many different things, whilst at the same time absorbing the views of 5 peaked limestone cliff formations, female water buffalos relaxing in the river after a hard mornings work and children stripping down for their daily wash. We headed to a local fishing village and spoke in depth with Allen about China and its culture. In the evening we treated ourselves to a lovely Western dinner including one of the best apple crumbles we have ever had. At the same time, we were of celebrity-like status with repeated groups of Chinese teenage tourists requesting to be in photos with us. This media attention continued as we meandered through town, stopping to watch a celebrating group of 20+ Chinese being serenaded by two men and a karaoke box. Participating first by clapping along, we were soon dragged towards the microphone and asked to sing. Luckily, the group was celebrating a birthday, and so Happy Birthday Mr Chow was an inspiring song choice from Lottie and went down a treat. Many smiles, photographs, and even a drinking toast followed, yet barely a word of mutual language was spoken by either party. We then had a few drinks with the touring grandparents from New Zealand, and a great laugh too, before heading to Monkey Janes rooftop bar. Here the views from the bar allowed for a seamless panoramic of the town and the limestone cliffs that were being lit by powerful spotlights.

We then headed onto the Dragons Backbone. No this is not a fossil nor an archeological site, but instead the name given to a series of rice terraces just outside of Guillin. On arriving, a fellow tourist suggested that we might have a 1-2 hour trek up into the mountains in order to find accommodation, much to our obvious dismay. However several hundred metres from the bus stop we found the village of Dazhai and one of our most unusual hostesses in the whole of our trip, a lady named Pan Wan Yee. Pan was dressed in traditional clothing, including a long black embroided skirt, a bright red jacket and red sash cumberbund, with her hair wrapped up neatly into a tunic resembling a Sikh turban. We later found out that her hair was 4 feet long, and that she has only had it cut twice at the ages of 18 and 30 as tradition dictates, and the 8ft of hair previous is close to hand to show her guests. Lottie was dressed up in this traditional outfit and shown how to dance by this charming lady, who once more could barely speak a word of English. We were also lucky to indulge in amazing home cooked fresh food, all local ingredients bursting with flavour – Pumpkin stew in particular

The rice terraces themselves are a stunning spectacle. Carved into the sides of mountains, at over 1000m high, these terraces climb up several hundred metres, layer on layer into the sky. At time of visiting, the rice had been farmed from the fields and ploughing and preparing the terraces was well underway. Arguably, this is the best time to see the terraces, as instead of green or yellow rice crops, the terraces are filled with water and this creates an extraordinary sight where the light glistens off the tops of these fields. Here we went of two treks, climbing into the hills and clouds. The views were breathtaking, in both sense of the word!! Each corner and climb revealed a new perspective on the rich tapestry of agricultural extraordinaire, with cloud rolling across the top of the mountains and the villages shrinking to miniature wooden monopoly pieces.

We were saddened to have to depart so early, rushing out hot in pursuit of our bus with vegetable noodles and stewed pumpkin in handy polystyrene boxes. Our 25hr onwards trip landed us in Dali, a walled town set at 2000m plus some. A cute town, albeit slightly over-touristed, the highlight (literally) was the misty mountain that stood over the town like a bear over a campsite. It would have been so had it not been for the low cloud cover and the persistent rain that damped our spirits and the streets. With Paul suffering from some form of altitude sickness (we self-diagnosed) we retreated to our glamorous room that included not only a bathroom set in a turret with rain shower, but also a living room with TV and a comfortable bedroom. If only the Chinese TV network decided that an English channel or two might hold some popularity!

We meandered through the streets of Dali, ate in Sisters cafe, but beyond this there was little for us to do, so we headed on towards Lijiang. Lijiang, a UNESCO world heritage site (at least it once was, Unesco are threatening to pull it from their list), has largely been responsible for the downward spiral in popularity of Dali. Lijiang is beautiful. Winding cobbled paths, interwoven by canals and ancient bridges. Along these streets are many quirky if not repeated shopping opportunities, including in particular scarves and shawls, tea and tea accessories, and plenty of varieties of dried Yak meat. It is in fact terribly difficult to navigate as there are no distinguishing features, and to no surprise we spent well over an hour seeking out our accommodation, Mama Naxis. Mama, (as she’s known), is another terribly charismatic host, insistent on hugging and seeing off everybody personally with gifts before they check out. Here in Lijiang we enjoyed perusing at the shops and making several small purchases to help us to cope with the altitude and damper weather that we were now surrounded by.

Having not had a haircut for over 4 months, Lottie was drowning in the weight of her locks, so we set out to find a hairdresser that could perform a trim. Plenty of hairdressers lined the highstreets of Lijiang, for the Chinese are actually quite stylish, however finding an English speaker to communicate required style proved impossible. So Paul volunteered to do the job himself, and Lottie unenthusiastically accepted, with a weary look across her face. Back in our apartment, Paul set up a chair, dressed Lottie in her pac mac and set the mood with some relaxing but Toni and Guy like music. As you can imagine, along the journey from long thick hair to a shorter and lighter styling, there were many moments of confusion, panic, questioning and most certainly on both our parts, fear. A few tears might had also been shed (guess who). However, the end results were pretty impressive. Paul’s care and attention seemed to provide a decently balanced, and dare I say it, layered hair style that met with Lottie’s needs and even surprised some friends that it was not done by a pro. Just another string to the bow!

After the hairy nightmares, we then began to fear the possibility of our immediate deaths caused by plummeting from the heady heights of Tiger leaping Gorge. The Gorge, set at 2400m+ above sea level, has an extremely fast flowing river rushing through it, with vertical drops of 500m along the way, narrow rocky paths and just four waterfalls that one has to walk, yes walk through. However, this was the next item on our list, and as we traversed by bus through the mountainous terrain, and as Lottie slept, we were amongst the clouds again. We were then dropped off and pointed upwards, for our walk began with a climb of several hundred metres using zig zagging roads that weaved towards the summit. Sapping the life from our limbs, we were delighted when we reached the top over an hour later. The views from this peak were incredible. Although our trail led along a relatively manageable mountain side, the view down and across the river to the second side of this gorge, revealed a giant, steep sloped mountain that soared deep into the clouds hiding it’s icy peak from view. Stunned and slightly nerved (Paul) by this view we scrambled together some unflattering photos and moved on.

The trail from here on was relatively flat, and we soon found our halfway point aptly named ‘Halfway House.’ Here you can eat, relax and even accommodate for the night, but our schedule allowed only for a hearty lunch. At 2400 metres high, and with a perfect panoramic view of the Gorge, this had to be the best toilet we had ever used, however after a short spat of rain we were soon moving on and burning off our lunch. Along the next part of the trail we came along some very narrow paths with deathly descents below our feet, and Paul found himself clinging to the face of the mountain, with Lottie walking along as if on Portabello road. We then had to work our way through several waterfalls that crashed down onto our path, spilled their contents onto the rocky footing, and then descend down a further 500m eventually ending up at the river mouth. Although slightly less dangerous than how we have explained, we did indeed get very wet and our feet grew cold from the icy waters. With wet feet, we suffered a few slippery moments on the way down, proving that concentration was needed at all time, before we entered a race against time to meet our 4pm bus.

Luckily we caught the bus just in time, for we needed to return to Lijiang in order to catch our overnight train to Kunming, and then in turn connect to our next overnight train onto Chengdu on the following eve. Had we not been successful, we would not have been able to fill our next blog with the wonderfully stunning national parks of Songpan and Jiuzhaigou, with tales of Pandas and Terracotta warriers, with the peaceful surroundings of the People’s Park or the Summer Palace, with the tongue tickling senses of Sichuan spices, Yak meat hamburgers, Peking duck and Chinese dumplings, with the sights of the