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15 August: Tiger Leaping Gorge

The morning we were up early, packing and getting ready for the day ahead. We left for breakfast, same little restaurant and once more the noodles of the previous day. After breakfast we headed to Mama 1, we had heard from one of the staff at Mama 2 that we could get a bus to Qiaotou village for only Y20pp, problem however was availability. There were some places available and we would have to wait until 09h00 before we could leave. We put the pack safes on our bags and stored them in the storage room of Mama. Before leaving we were each given a banana, a hearty hug by mama and some sweet smelling little perfume bag which you hang around your neck. From here we all walked to the edge of the old town with our bags to the awaiting minivans who would take us to Qiaotou village where our trek would begin.

The drive there took about 2 ½ hours of winding roads through the mountains and down to the valley where we saw the mighty Yangtze river for the first time. The river was incredibly wide, flowing fast with its brown waters through the mountainside. We were dropped off where we bought the entrance tickets, after which we started walking, first up with the tar road, which soon became a 4x4 road and later a small dirt road leading upwards into the mountainside. The first hour of our walk was very gradual, sloping up slightly and winding through lush forest, small villages and farm land filled with maze and sunflower crops, really stunning. A man with a horse followed us all the way up for the first 2 hours in the hope that one of us would become tired and give into his steep price.

Then started the BIG climb, WOW! It wasn't the most exhausting climb we had taken and we had walked enough in the past few months that we were reasonably fit, but neither of us could breath. We were like steam trains slowly ascending! It could only have been the altitude, but then again we had been higher than this without any problems. The way up had been dubbed the road with 28 turns, it seemed more like a 128 turns as it snaked its way steeply up the mountainside. We were almost at the top when we met Valerie, Antone had gone on ahead and she had not been able to keep up. It was great for us since we needed to rest. We sat there with her for 10 minutes, regaining our composure before attempting that which still lay ahead. 15 minutes later we made it to the top and found Antone sitting on the side looking down at the valley below. There was also a lady there with some goods for sale, she would climb up and down this treacherous road daily to sell her goods to passers by. In order to take photos at this spot she demanded we pay her Y5 for a photo and Y2 for video, go figure?

We took hoards of photos of the beautiful scenery below and rested on one of the cliffs with a sheer drop into the waters below. At this point the gorge was 3900 meters from the river and the total distance of the gorge measured 16km long from start to finish. Soon enough others in our party joined us although some were very scared to take pictures and missed all that we had seen. In the end we purchased a snicker from her and she was happy, we paid for no photos.

We continued onwards, the road had evened out a lot and mostly we walked on the escarpment of the plateau towards the guest house. The road there was amazing, steep falls down into the ravine while the pine forest closed in around the pathway. We came to the first guest house, Tea Horse and decided to stay. The rooms were great, very reasonably priced and a view to kill for. It had been a long day and all one could ask for after more than 5 hours of trekking, was a nice warm shower, followed by a cold beer. We sat down with others, some French, Czech Republic, English and an American, all who had joined us along the way, chatting while waiting for dinner.

We ordered dishes which we initially shared between us and the French couple and later ordered more which we shared with others who also wanted in. The people were very interested in RSA and us, asking a variety of questions about the people, crime and politics. At one stage I tried to clear the table of some of the excessive empty plates, but my hand slipped on the oily surface and I ended up grasping the plates against my white pants in an attempt to keep them from dropping on the ground. I was successful and none of them broke, but my newly washed white pants were an absolute mess, soiled with the oily remains of dinner. I had to go change and then wash my pants by hand, before tossing it into the washing machine and hanging it up to dry - the stains came out some, but a oily outline of the stains remained.

As the night got later people would disappear to their rooms, to catch up on the sleep they would invariably need for what lay ahead tomorrow. Before long we were some of the last remaining survivorswhich hinted to our need to hit the sack also.