Upon our arrival in Bali, Darren and I hopped in a “teksi” and headed to Kuta. Kuta is the main hubbub of the island and where Darren’s friend Laura lives. Before arriving, she gave us the lowdown on where to go for accommodations and there we went. Our driver was super nice, and seeing palm trees and blue skies seemed promising. Kuta however, was not so promising.
Before deciding to go to Bali/Indonesia, I asked around to see what peoples’ opinions were of the island; and, the consensus was that Bali was beautiful and full of culture. It’s my opinion, that none of these people were talking about Kuta. Kuta is basically to the Australians what Mexico is to a lot of North Americans. It is a city catered to “hooligan” surfers (who albeit are very good looking) but rude and crude. It has always been my understanding that the Asian culture in general (from East to South East) is conservative and somewhat passive. From what I’ve been told, this is more or less the case; but again, Kuta is the exception.
For the most part, the tourists in Kuta are just plain crude. They come to Kuta on short vacations to surf and party, surf and party, surf and party. They are loud and vulgar and seem to have little to no regard for the culture or the people (the religion in Bali is primarily Hindu, with a bit of Muslim as well). Consequently, the people who deal with the tourists have also become fairly crude. The touts (people trying to sell you stuff) are super aggressive, a lot of them try to sell you mushrooms or “epinephrine”, occasionally they call they refer to women as “Pussy”, and twice Darren and I were referred to as “stingy”.
There are also two main streets in Kuta, Poppies 1 and Poppies 2. Most of the affordable accommodation is in this area (which is still super over priced for what you’re getting), and so are all the night clubs. From outside our room, we could see the Sky Garden night club (the one Laura works at), and from inside our room we could hear it. That place would be going all night long. But, the proximity to the night clubs wasn’t the part that bothered us. Everyone, and I mean everyone (tourists and locals alike) driver motorcycles (with their surf boards attached of course) through the city—which, by the way, has the narrowest streets ever and no sidewalks. Trying to get to breakfast was a nightmare and only got worse as the day went by. Also, even though people don’t spit or pee in public like they do in China, the city and the beach especially, was surprisingly dirty. (Not to mention that Darren and I were harassed every five minutes by touters, sometimes the same ones over and over again.) People just don’t bother using trash cans—that being said, there aren’t a lot around to make use of.
Our first night there, Darren and I did check out Laura’s club; there were free vodka redbulls from 12-12:30 so how could we not!? Though the crowd was young and pretty outrageous, it was nice to get out a let loose a bit. We went with two girls we met, also from Canada, and hung out and danced for a couple hours. While it may sound like we were contributing to the problem (and maybe we were), I must point out that Darren and I were in bed and passed out by 2am, while everyone else kept going until the soccer game was over (4ish) and then some. However, even in our sleeps we knew when someone scored because the whole city seemed to explode. At any rate, after a few days, Darren and I were suffocating in Kuta. We couldn’t stand it any longer, and our impression of Bali certainly wasn’t the serene relaxation we had been anticipating. Before we were able to leave Kuta completely though, we hired a driver and went down to Padang Padang and Uluwatu. Padang Padang was a small and beautiful white sand beach at the bottom of a high cliff. There were quite a few people there but it was still so much more peaceful than Kuta. There were even a few monkeys wandering around. We stayed and swam for a little while and then headed to Uluwatu and went to one of the temples. They tide sarongs around our waists to cover our legs and uphold their ideas of modesty, and then were asked to remove our sunglasses and jewellery. Apparently the monkeys have learned that if they take your shiny things (including your camera) they can hold it ransom for food. There were monkeys everywhere at this temple (macaques), and we walked around, watching the monkeys more than taking in the cultural experience (oops), while I kept a firm grip on my camera. Some of the monkeys were pretty gutsy and a few of the bigger ones would stroll right by you like it was no big deal at all. Some of them would turn their backs to you if you started to take pictures, or start to creep towards you. One of them even came right up to Darren and tugged on his sarong. The greatest moment of the evening though, was when Darren was leaning up against a wall, casually holding onto our unopened 1L bottle of water, when this monkey came up, grabbed the bottle with both hands and bit a hole in the bottom. With Darren still holding on, the monkey just started to drink, until Darren was forced to put it down and the monkey tore a huge hole in the bottom and went to town. This same monkey, not fifteen minutes earlier came right up beside Sonia (a girl from Edmonton) and I as we were taking pictures and started jumping up and down. He was not a small thing and between the sudden movement and the sound of impact we both screamed—while everyone around us laughed of course. I don’t know if it was a reaction to our screaming or a yawn, but he showed his teeth and they were huge. It’s no surprise that he was able to puncture that bottle so easily. Overall, it was a great night; the first great night in Bali, and we knew that if we wanted more we’d have to get out of Kuta. So, the next morning we hopped in a van and headed to Ahmed, which the guidebook more or less described as off the radar—perfect!
When our transportation picked us up, there were six of us. The other four got dropped off in Ubud and it was just Darren and I heading off to the east coast. Ahmed is a small fishing area (more than a town) of black (volcanic) sand beaches and calm waters. (Kuta had white sand beaches and great surf.) The day we got here, we saw little to no other westerners (a few on the ride up, but none in the village). We wandered around trying to find a decent place to stay, and settled on Amed Butu. We did check out one place before hand which was so amazingly beautiful, and no one else was staying there. It had huge beds with canopies, wooden floors, air con (which does not come standard like it does in China), huge glass doors which opened into an outdoor pool, and there was a common area with a TV and pool table. The place was beautiful, but the starting price was also Rp 475,000 ($60—which isn’t expensive at all in terms of accommodations back home, and especially not expensive in light of what you’re getting, but it’s expensive for Bali and for us), though she did go down to Rp 300,000. We kept walking (me wanting to go back the entire time), and at one point, we thought that if we could get her down to Rp 200,000 we’d take it fore sure. But we found another place, basically at the edge of the main road and here we stayed (for Rp 80,000=$10/night, breakfast—coffee, watermelon and banana pancake—included). We have our own little bungalow (only a short walk from the water) with a soft bed, a small closet, some nice character, and like all the other bungalows in the area, an open air shower (which is pretty cool). It’s pretty simple but it’s wonderful, and so much better than where we were staying in Kuta (and for Rp 40,000 less).
So, not only are we ten times happier with our accommodations here in Ahmed but our first night was also a great sign of things to come. Darren and I met a diver who’s been staying in one of the bungalows for a month now, and she gave us a brief run down on where to eat and things to see. We had dinner at a restaurant she recommended and have really come to like the owners/chef and her husband. We also had to check out the beach, and not a minute after we set foot on it, several kids came running towards us. They were a ways off and Darren and I thought we could turn around and go back up the road without them noticing, but we were so wrong. We were swarmed by children trying to sell us salt in small baskets made of dried palm leaves. They all had little pieces of paper with their pitch written on it in different languages. All of them were apparently selling “Balinese salt” to help them pay for school. I’m still not sure what the big deal is with the salt, but Darren and I weren’t really interested, especially for Rp 20,000. It was hard to say no to the little kids though (which is the point of course). They really were cute, and all named Wayan. Well, many of them are named Wayan, which is apparently the “number one name in Bali”. There were another couple of kids named Ilo, one in particular who was super tiny and would just hold her salt up as high as she could and say “it’s good”. So cute! Instead of buying a bunch of salt, Darren and I told them that if they made us necklaces out of shells we’d come back the next day and buy a few. This of course prompted the next step in the deal and the children started asking what time we’d be there, how many necklaces we’d buy (they told us we had to buy five, one from each of them), and what price we’d buy them for (Rp 10,000 if it was good, Rp 5000 if it was no good). They were quite the miniature business people.
After they went scurrying off looking for sea shells, Darren and I spent the rest of the evening sitting on the rocks, watching the sun set, and watching some of the local kids play soccer on the beach. Darren also befriended one of the local fishermen, and I made a few friends out of the kids—who really loved my camera and having their pictures taken, “One more! One more! One more poto!” (that’s not spelled wrong, just phonetically). The fisherman Darren met offered to take Darren fishing, which he might do in a day or two, and even invited us into his home to meet his family. We sat and talked with his wife and child, and a few of their friends for a while which was really nice. The people here speak minimal English, but enough that we can hold a basic conversation.
While we really like our bungalow by the way, there does seem to be a variety of wild life, and a crying baby, living next door. Several times in the middle of the night Darren and I were awaken by varying loud and unpleasant noises. The first was a rooster who cocked for a very long time, which wouldn’t have been too bad, except that each of his cocks was followed by the howl of a dog. Once that stopped, a child eventually started screaming bloody murder. There was some debate however of whether or not it was a child or a very disturbed cat. We also heard pigs, motorcycles, and while I was sleeping, I heard Darren. Apparently sometime in the night, he found a cockroach in his armpit. Thankfully, he was smart enough not to tell me about it until today.
This morning, Darren and I went in search of an ATM. I knew there might be a risk of the area not having one, being that the guide book mentioned that Ahmed had less tourist amenities, but we took a chance. The ATM was a few villages away in Kota which took us about an hour to get to, but it made for a nice ride through the villages. In Kota, we grabbed some cash, stored up on some snacks at the supermarket, had lunch, and came back to Ahmed to lie on the beach and swim for a while.
The water was warm and calm and so clear. Pretty amazing actually, especially considering Indonesia’s general lack of environmental awareness. Unlike the beach in Kuta, we were only bothered two or three times by touters, and there was barely anyone else there.
After dinner and a shower, we headed back to the beach where we knew our little friends would be waiting for us. Sure enough, the minute we sat down, a bunch of heads popped up (they were at least 300 meters away) and came running towards us. They started shoving their prized necklaces in our faces and the dealings began. Now however, instead of five, we had to buy 8, and two of the girls (Wayan and Ilo) were missing (Ilo, who was maybe 4 didn’t make a necklace, and Wayan had to go home). Darren and I didn’t have any change, and the necklaces were Rp 10,000 a piece. Some of them were really nice, most of them looked like they should—made my children—and we bought 10 because all we had was a Rp 100,000 bill. Most of the kids were really cute about it. Some (by that I mean one really ballsy girl) were a little peeved about us buying two from two girls and only one from the rest, but we tried to make change but no one in the village could break a 100 (this same little girl sold me a very nice necklace, I later found out, a tourist gave her). One of the little girls clearly tried to make a necklace, and ended up making something between a necklace and bracelet, and not with the best craftsmanship. She held up hers with the rest, frowned and said that it was small. I picked it up, tried to put it on my head, but it was unlikely I’d even be able to get that on a baby’s head. It was too long for a bracelet, but also too short to wrap twice around my wrist. Everyone laughed, and she (another Ilo) looked so defeated. I handed it back to her, and once Darren and I decided that we had to buy at least one from each kid, I took her tiny necklace and her whole face lit up. She kept saying “thank-you, thank-you” and eventually even said “mercie beaucoup”. Once we got all the necklaces sorted out, Darren handed the kids the Rp 100k, told them one last time that they had to share, and told them to “get out of here”; at which point, they all ran screaming and laughing down the beach and into the night.
It’s kind of funny because when the driver dropped us off here in Ahmed he told us “this is the real Bali”, and he was so right. In two short days we’ve experienced more culture here than we did with 4-5 days in Kuta. Everyone is as friendly as we’ve heard they are, and the scenery is really beautiful! This part of Bali actually reminds me a lot of the Filippines. The beach here, with all the fishermen, reminds me of the one in Pandan, and the people, and even some of the language reminds me a lot of the Filippines too. I’m definitely starting to understand why so many people love it here so much. I think tomorrow we might see about snorkelling at the Japanese ship wreck, and once we’re done in Ahmed (if ever) we’re off to Lovina to swim with the dolphins.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Almost There
I'm currently sitting in Starbucks at the Kuala Lumpur airport awaiting our flight to the glorious beaches of Bali. We've been here for almost 7 hours and we've got another 2 to go.
Before leaving Hong Kong, Darren and I debated whether or not it would be worth it to spend our 9 hour layover in a hotel/hostel. The two biggest factors in this decision, as with most decisions we make, was time and money. The only hotels anywhere near the airport (which is basically in the middle of nowhere) are the Pan Pacific, the Concorde, etc. These hotels average upwards of $100 for one night. The closest hotel we could find for a lower price was $42, but was fully booked. Every other form of accomodation is about an hour away. So our choices were as follows: pay a ridiculous amount for a bed nearby at a luxury hotel; travel almost an hour into town for affordable accomodations (getting there around 3am, sleeping for about three hours, then having to leave by about 6am to catch our flight out); or, sleep in the airport. Guess which one we chose?
No, this is not a trick question. If you know us at all (or if you're Laura and you were there to witness the discussion), you can probably guess that we slept at the airport. Now, before arriving I was dreading this decision. I had this notion that the Kuala Lumpur Airport was some sort of tin roof/dirt floor, or something resembling a Chinese train station. Maybe I'm just too accustomed to the "cleanliness"/lack thereof of Chinese transportation, because I think the airport is actually fairly clean. It does help that spitting and hawking loogies, and urinating on the floor is not common practice here in Malaysia (THANK GOODNESS!). Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised.
That being said, it was almost 2am when we got through customs and we were certainly not the only ones with plans to set up camp on the floor. As we walked through the small airport (which is still probably double the size of the one in Prince), we saw plenty of people ten steps ahead of us, sprawled out in a corner or along a wall, eyes covered, snoozing away. At 2 in the am, the airport was actually pretty quiet, and Darren and I nestled in, made ourselves a little sleeping quarter and did our best to konk out.
About two hours into our snooze however, the airport exploded with people. When we fell asleep the AirAsia check-ins weren't even open and so there was little activity. At about 4 in the morning though, there were huge line-ups of people checking into flights. Once the hustle and bustle started, it didn't let up. We would wake up at intervals to crowds of people not more than a few feet from us, and by around 6am, there was no blocking out the noise.
So, true and faithful, we joined the line of zombies and headed to Starbucks. It's funny how you can walk into a Starbucks and feel right at home. Most of the people here are foreigners and English speakers and with a nice mug of Americano, it hardly feels like you've left home; except, that Malaysia has a huge Muslim population--full burkas and traditional modest garb everywehere--something we don't see much of at home.
So here we are, empty mugs of coffee, our bags piled into a corner, killing time until we leave for Bali. Anxiously awaiting.
Before leaving Hong Kong, Darren and I debated whether or not it would be worth it to spend our 9 hour layover in a hotel/hostel. The two biggest factors in this decision, as with most decisions we make, was time and money. The only hotels anywhere near the airport (which is basically in the middle of nowhere) are the Pan Pacific, the Concorde, etc. These hotels average upwards of $100 for one night. The closest hotel we could find for a lower price was $42, but was fully booked. Every other form of accomodation is about an hour away. So our choices were as follows: pay a ridiculous amount for a bed nearby at a luxury hotel; travel almost an hour into town for affordable accomodations (getting there around 3am, sleeping for about three hours, then having to leave by about 6am to catch our flight out); or, sleep in the airport. Guess which one we chose?
No, this is not a trick question. If you know us at all (or if you're Laura and you were there to witness the discussion), you can probably guess that we slept at the airport. Now, before arriving I was dreading this decision. I had this notion that the Kuala Lumpur Airport was some sort of tin roof/dirt floor, or something resembling a Chinese train station. Maybe I'm just too accustomed to the "cleanliness"/lack thereof of Chinese transportation, because I think the airport is actually fairly clean. It does help that spitting and hawking loogies, and urinating on the floor is not common practice here in Malaysia (THANK GOODNESS!). Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised.
That being said, it was almost 2am when we got through customs and we were certainly not the only ones with plans to set up camp on the floor. As we walked through the small airport (which is still probably double the size of the one in Prince), we saw plenty of people ten steps ahead of us, sprawled out in a corner or along a wall, eyes covered, snoozing away. At 2 in the am, the airport was actually pretty quiet, and Darren and I nestled in, made ourselves a little sleeping quarter and did our best to konk out.
About two hours into our snooze however, the airport exploded with people. When we fell asleep the AirAsia check-ins weren't even open and so there was little activity. At about 4 in the morning though, there were huge line-ups of people checking into flights. Once the hustle and bustle started, it didn't let up. We would wake up at intervals to crowds of people not more than a few feet from us, and by around 6am, there was no blocking out the noise.
So, true and faithful, we joined the line of zombies and headed to Starbucks. It's funny how you can walk into a Starbucks and feel right at home. Most of the people here are foreigners and English speakers and with a nice mug of Americano, it hardly feels like you've left home; except, that Malaysia has a huge Muslim population--full burkas and traditional modest garb everywehere--something we don't see much of at home.
So here we are, empty mugs of coffee, our bags piled into a corner, killing time until we leave for Bali. Anxiously awaiting.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Yangshuo and Back Again
Okay! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry for the delay! We are fine and happy and healthy. I haven't written in a while just because we've been busy, and sorry for not e-mailing any of the family. We spent about a week in Yangshuo and the wonderful thing about it, is that you really can just go there and fall off the face of the earth... which obviously, we did.
So like I said, we were in Yangshuo for about a week. It's more or less been known as a backpacker's paradise, a popular place for climbers and a place of laid back, local feel. Every year it becomes more and more commercialised and I think we made it just in time. Along the road to the Yu Long, Moon Hill Cave, and the town of Xingping they are building three archways which are rumored to charge 80 RMB just to use the road. It's the opinion of many travellers that this toll is going to ruin Yangshuo. The reason people love it is because, like we did, you can just bike along the many roads, through the villages, go for a dip in the river, or just wander through the farm country. With an 80 RMB toll, a lot of budget tourists, like ourselves, will be turned around. Not to mention, that climbers are not exactly the wealthy amongst them all, and their reasons for visiting Yangshuo will be deterred as well.
That all being said, Darren and I really did love Yangshuo. I think we rank it second (to Dali) of the Chinese towns we've visited. We loved it for its laid back feel. The first few days we were there it rained endlessly. Our hostel was just outside the main city in a little farming village and the patio looked over a garden of sorts. It was beautiful, but all that rain meant insane humidity and a lot of mosquitoes. Darren and I both were bitten numerous times. Being that the activities in Yangshuo are all outdoor, there wasn't much to do in the rain. We were happy to do no more than stroll through town the first two days, and on the third day we decided to brave a bike ride. Darren, myself and Hannah (an English teacher from NY/Oregon) got our bikes while it wasn't raining, and headed into some of the countryside. Along the way, we met one of the many little old ladies selling flower crowns, and Hannah and I couldn't resist. We rode around all day with our little crowns on. It did begin to rain again though, and we did get quite drenched and muddy. We had planned to make it all the way to the Dragon Bridge, but at one point, the rain got really bad, and we stopped under a tree, alongside a water buffalo, to figure out what we were going to do. Darren had a strong urge to pet the bull, and despite my warnings he slowly ventured towards it, and sure enough, it planted its hooves and lowered its head and got its horns ready. Thank goodness it was tied to a tree or Darren could've been in rough shape. Ha ha ha. It was wet, we were soaked, and back to our hostel we went.
That night, we ventured out on the town with a couple other people, had some dinner, watched the soccer game and found ourselves in a Chinese bar. Wow! That was an experience. First of all, the Chinese music is terrible, and I don't just mean Chinese pop music, but the Chinese songs done to the tune of "If You're Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands". Not only that, but the DJ would sing along and then randomly yell into the mic. It was so loud and so ugly. The best part of it though, was that every bar in Yangshuo seemed to have a pole. That was funny. Still not as funny as the full out hawaiian print outfits. There were three guys in the bar wearing hawaiin shirts, two of which were also wearing matching shorts! It was priceless. They thought they were pretty hot too, and the dancing was fantastic! It's not like the bars at home where all the girls dance and the guys watch from afar, too cool for school; no, these guys were going all out--dancing the night away. There was also this one girl, wearing a shirt that said "Too much fun" and she would do this strange girating move around the pole. She shook her whole body and somehow managed to move forward, spasming all the way. It really did seem more like a seizure. I think the person who enjoyed himself the most was Neil. Him, the pole, and the guy who grabbed his but, all had a great night!
After the third day of straight rain, the sun eventually did come out and it came out strong (which didn't deter the bugs however). It was HOT! Very HOT! We took our first chance to get on a "bamboo" (I put that in quotations because they're really just plastic pipes made to look like bamboo) raft and float down the river (and by float, I mean go upstream by motor). What I should probably mention, is that the day before our hostel owner told us not to eat any pork. Apparently there'd been some sort of disease going around and a lot of pigs were dying and ending up in the river (the Li River). Sure enough, in the course of the hour and a half that we floated upstream, we saw so many pigs, belly up and bloated that we lost count. We lost count around thirty and that was early on. It got so bad that we had it down to a science. We could roughly estimate how long they'd been in the water based on how bloated they were and how they floated (how much of the body was above the water and what direction the legs stuck out in). Don't get me wrong, the karst mountains and scenery were beautiful and amazing, but it was hard to concentrate with dead pigs floating everywhere.
The next day Darren and I rented a scooter one day (it was nice not to have to work up any more of a sweat than we had to) and headed through the country to the Moon Hill Cave. It's a pretty cool mountain. There is a crescent shaped archway in the top of the hill and apparently has over 20 or 30 climbing paths. We didn't go all the way to the top of the archway (because we didn't know you could) but the trek to the archway itself was a scorcher. It was about 20 minutes to a half hour up, and again down and Darren and I were both sweating fiercly. I can't explain it, but that my shirt became a towel, a damp towel. We were so hot and so sweaty that we decided to find ourselves a little spot to go swimming. We took the scooters out to this great little spot by the river where they dock some of the bamboo rafts. There was a couple there, the girl sitting under the tree while the guy was in his underwear diving off the rafts. There was another guy, just sitting on the edge, cooling his feet in the water and sipping on some local beer (Liquan). I wasn't prepared for a swim, but Darren went in for a dip, and after sitting on the raft, sweating bullets, I waited for the swarms of tourists floating by to subside, and I took off my shirt and jumped in as well. It was so incredibly refreshing! The river was quite clean and so cool. It was so clean, that even though I accidentally swallowed a mouthful, I haven't caught any parasite or anything.
The next day was just as hot as the last, if not hotter, and we rented scooters again; Hannah and Margaret on one, and Darren and myself on another. We got an early start and spent a good couple hours just sitting on the rafts and diving into the water. It was really the perfect way to spend such a hot and humid afternoon. Just to put things into perspective, it was so hot, that my hair would start to dry within minutes of getting out of the water and was almost completely dry after no more than ten minutes on the scooter. After getting back, we headed to Gon's Noodles, a delicious local noodle place, and sat down for a late lunch. We must've timed it perfectly because all of a sudden, the rain came coming down. It was still super hot, but not it was super wet! Thankfully, by the time we finished lunch, the rain was done too! We headed back to the hostel and Hannah and I showered and got ready to go to a cooking class. Darren didn't want to come, something about paying to learn to cook Chinese when his mother could teach him for free, but Hannah and I really enjoyed ourselves. It was pretty fantastic actually. They picked us up and did a tour through the market, teaching us about different vegetables and spices, and different meats. At one point, our instructor pointed us to the part of the market where dogs sit in cages waiting to be butchered. At this point I stayed with her and the vegetables, but from what I was told not only were there live dogs, but hanging pieces of butchered and skinned ones as well. Bah! On a lighter note, they took us to this quaint littler barnhouse in one of the smaller villages, set up and equipped for our cooking lesson. We made pork (or in my case, chicken) stuffed vegetables (one pumpkin flower, one piece of fried tofu, a piece of eggplant, and a mushroom), cashew chicken, fried eggplant, Chinese spinach, and the local delicacy, beer fish. It was all excellent and so much fun. We all had our own chopping boards, our own clevers, and our own woks. Hannah and I really enjoyed being able to cook again.
The rest of our time in Yangshuo was spent shopping and relaxing. We went to the river and Gon's Noodles one more time, and before we knew it it was time to head back to Hong Kong. We took a train to Shenzhen from Guilin (and from Shenzhen we took the MTR to Hong Kong). As another side note, China is overall a very safe place, but it seems the only crime we did witness was in Guilin. I already mentioned the pick pockets, but as we were walking to the train station, we also saw a very angry man throw his cell phone to the ground, get up and hit a woman across the face, twice. Darren and I were so shocked we just stood there, frozen. If someone does something like that back home, the general reaction is one of outrage and people call the police if not deal with it with their own form of justice. In China though, people barely flinch. It's not the custom to interfere and it seems that there's no exception.
Well, we're back in Hong Kong now and my first plans on coming here were to cook. I wanted to cook some of the Western style foods I had been craving, and just generally cook food that didn't involve mass amounts of oil. Go figure that the first thing I would cook was spaghetti and garlic bread. I rarely make spaghetti at home and yet of all the things I have the opportunity to make, I make spaghetti. It wasn't the best spaghetti in the world, but it was good. That and salad. It was so nice to have a good salad, with fresh vegetables. The last salad I had in China, was lettuce, corn, onion and tomato. The salad I made here, was lettuce, carrot, tomato, cucumber and dried cranberries! Ooo, and my wonderful friend Laura (who's put us up for a few days) had la dinner party the night before, and so Darren and I were able to reep the leftovers! She made grilled cheese sandwiches (with real cheddar!!!) , while we ate leftover Greek salad (which is the best kind), and she fed us cake and Doritos as well! This afternoon, Darren was fortunate enough to have some marinated lamb skewers for lunch with fresh vegetables.
By the way, when we got to mainland China, it dawned on us just how different Hong Kong really is from China, and now that we're back in Hong Kong, the difference is only more apparent. Everything in Hong Kong seems cleaner, even the people. Not only that, but after two months of learning the language and counting on it to get by in our day to day, we suddenly can't use it anymore. Laura was saying that Hong Kongers will actually give you dirty looks if you speak Mandarin and don't speak it well. It's like reverse culture shock in some ways. Our first day back in Hong Kong (where most of the people speak English) and we suddenly felt lost and unable to communicate. I found myself repressing urges to speak in Mandarin. Certain words and phrases had become a reflex and now we don't need them anymore (for those who don't know, in Hong Kong they speak Cantonese, which is pretty different from Mandarin).
Anyway, from here, we're leaving for Bali and I can't wait to see what kind of food they have in store for us there. Everyone we talk to raves about the food in SE Asia. The satays, the curry... I'm really excited (to eat of course. As if I starved in China which couldn't be further from the truth). So it's to a whole new world once again, and like always, I'll try to keep everyone updated, but there's no telling what the internet access will be like on the beaches ;). We are talking about getting a cell phone for SE Asia, so if I can't always update the blog, family, we will be able to call more often.
We may or may not have lunch with Tom and Rosemary tomorrow (Darren's cousins), and then it's Bon Voyage once again. It's going to be very different and hopefully exciting!
So like I said, we were in Yangshuo for about a week. It's more or less been known as a backpacker's paradise, a popular place for climbers and a place of laid back, local feel. Every year it becomes more and more commercialised and I think we made it just in time. Along the road to the Yu Long, Moon Hill Cave, and the town of Xingping they are building three archways which are rumored to charge 80 RMB just to use the road. It's the opinion of many travellers that this toll is going to ruin Yangshuo. The reason people love it is because, like we did, you can just bike along the many roads, through the villages, go for a dip in the river, or just wander through the farm country. With an 80 RMB toll, a lot of budget tourists, like ourselves, will be turned around. Not to mention, that climbers are not exactly the wealthy amongst them all, and their reasons for visiting Yangshuo will be deterred as well.
That all being said, Darren and I really did love Yangshuo. I think we rank it second (to Dali) of the Chinese towns we've visited. We loved it for its laid back feel. The first few days we were there it rained endlessly. Our hostel was just outside the main city in a little farming village and the patio looked over a garden of sorts. It was beautiful, but all that rain meant insane humidity and a lot of mosquitoes. Darren and I both were bitten numerous times. Being that the activities in Yangshuo are all outdoor, there wasn't much to do in the rain. We were happy to do no more than stroll through town the first two days, and on the third day we decided to brave a bike ride. Darren, myself and Hannah (an English teacher from NY/Oregon) got our bikes while it wasn't raining, and headed into some of the countryside. Along the way, we met one of the many little old ladies selling flower crowns, and Hannah and I couldn't resist. We rode around all day with our little crowns on. It did begin to rain again though, and we did get quite drenched and muddy. We had planned to make it all the way to the Dragon Bridge, but at one point, the rain got really bad, and we stopped under a tree, alongside a water buffalo, to figure out what we were going to do. Darren had a strong urge to pet the bull, and despite my warnings he slowly ventured towards it, and sure enough, it planted its hooves and lowered its head and got its horns ready. Thank goodness it was tied to a tree or Darren could've been in rough shape. Ha ha ha. It was wet, we were soaked, and back to our hostel we went.
That night, we ventured out on the town with a couple other people, had some dinner, watched the soccer game and found ourselves in a Chinese bar. Wow! That was an experience. First of all, the Chinese music is terrible, and I don't just mean Chinese pop music, but the Chinese songs done to the tune of "If You're Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands". Not only that, but the DJ would sing along and then randomly yell into the mic. It was so loud and so ugly. The best part of it though, was that every bar in Yangshuo seemed to have a pole. That was funny. Still not as funny as the full out hawaiian print outfits. There were three guys in the bar wearing hawaiin shirts, two of which were also wearing matching shorts! It was priceless. They thought they were pretty hot too, and the dancing was fantastic! It's not like the bars at home where all the girls dance and the guys watch from afar, too cool for school; no, these guys were going all out--dancing the night away. There was also this one girl, wearing a shirt that said "Too much fun" and she would do this strange girating move around the pole. She shook her whole body and somehow managed to move forward, spasming all the way. It really did seem more like a seizure. I think the person who enjoyed himself the most was Neil. Him, the pole, and the guy who grabbed his but, all had a great night!
After the third day of straight rain, the sun eventually did come out and it came out strong (which didn't deter the bugs however). It was HOT! Very HOT! We took our first chance to get on a "bamboo" (I put that in quotations because they're really just plastic pipes made to look like bamboo) raft and float down the river (and by float, I mean go upstream by motor). What I should probably mention, is that the day before our hostel owner told us not to eat any pork. Apparently there'd been some sort of disease going around and a lot of pigs were dying and ending up in the river (the Li River). Sure enough, in the course of the hour and a half that we floated upstream, we saw so many pigs, belly up and bloated that we lost count. We lost count around thirty and that was early on. It got so bad that we had it down to a science. We could roughly estimate how long they'd been in the water based on how bloated they were and how they floated (how much of the body was above the water and what direction the legs stuck out in). Don't get me wrong, the karst mountains and scenery were beautiful and amazing, but it was hard to concentrate with dead pigs floating everywhere.
The next day Darren and I rented a scooter one day (it was nice not to have to work up any more of a sweat than we had to) and headed through the country to the Moon Hill Cave. It's a pretty cool mountain. There is a crescent shaped archway in the top of the hill and apparently has over 20 or 30 climbing paths. We didn't go all the way to the top of the archway (because we didn't know you could) but the trek to the archway itself was a scorcher. It was about 20 minutes to a half hour up, and again down and Darren and I were both sweating fiercly. I can't explain it, but that my shirt became a towel, a damp towel. We were so hot and so sweaty that we decided to find ourselves a little spot to go swimming. We took the scooters out to this great little spot by the river where they dock some of the bamboo rafts. There was a couple there, the girl sitting under the tree while the guy was in his underwear diving off the rafts. There was another guy, just sitting on the edge, cooling his feet in the water and sipping on some local beer (Liquan). I wasn't prepared for a swim, but Darren went in for a dip, and after sitting on the raft, sweating bullets, I waited for the swarms of tourists floating by to subside, and I took off my shirt and jumped in as well. It was so incredibly refreshing! The river was quite clean and so cool. It was so clean, that even though I accidentally swallowed a mouthful, I haven't caught any parasite or anything.
The next day was just as hot as the last, if not hotter, and we rented scooters again; Hannah and Margaret on one, and Darren and myself on another. We got an early start and spent a good couple hours just sitting on the rafts and diving into the water. It was really the perfect way to spend such a hot and humid afternoon. Just to put things into perspective, it was so hot, that my hair would start to dry within minutes of getting out of the water and was almost completely dry after no more than ten minutes on the scooter. After getting back, we headed to Gon's Noodles, a delicious local noodle place, and sat down for a late lunch. We must've timed it perfectly because all of a sudden, the rain came coming down. It was still super hot, but not it was super wet! Thankfully, by the time we finished lunch, the rain was done too! We headed back to the hostel and Hannah and I showered and got ready to go to a cooking class. Darren didn't want to come, something about paying to learn to cook Chinese when his mother could teach him for free, but Hannah and I really enjoyed ourselves. It was pretty fantastic actually. They picked us up and did a tour through the market, teaching us about different vegetables and spices, and different meats. At one point, our instructor pointed us to the part of the market where dogs sit in cages waiting to be butchered. At this point I stayed with her and the vegetables, but from what I was told not only were there live dogs, but hanging pieces of butchered and skinned ones as well. Bah! On a lighter note, they took us to this quaint littler barnhouse in one of the smaller villages, set up and equipped for our cooking lesson. We made pork (or in my case, chicken) stuffed vegetables (one pumpkin flower, one piece of fried tofu, a piece of eggplant, and a mushroom), cashew chicken, fried eggplant, Chinese spinach, and the local delicacy, beer fish. It was all excellent and so much fun. We all had our own chopping boards, our own clevers, and our own woks. Hannah and I really enjoyed being able to cook again.
The rest of our time in Yangshuo was spent shopping and relaxing. We went to the river and Gon's Noodles one more time, and before we knew it it was time to head back to Hong Kong. We took a train to Shenzhen from Guilin (and from Shenzhen we took the MTR to Hong Kong). As another side note, China is overall a very safe place, but it seems the only crime we did witness was in Guilin. I already mentioned the pick pockets, but as we were walking to the train station, we also saw a very angry man throw his cell phone to the ground, get up and hit a woman across the face, twice. Darren and I were so shocked we just stood there, frozen. If someone does something like that back home, the general reaction is one of outrage and people call the police if not deal with it with their own form of justice. In China though, people barely flinch. It's not the custom to interfere and it seems that there's no exception.
Well, we're back in Hong Kong now and my first plans on coming here were to cook. I wanted to cook some of the Western style foods I had been craving, and just generally cook food that didn't involve mass amounts of oil. Go figure that the first thing I would cook was spaghetti and garlic bread. I rarely make spaghetti at home and yet of all the things I have the opportunity to make, I make spaghetti. It wasn't the best spaghetti in the world, but it was good. That and salad. It was so nice to have a good salad, with fresh vegetables. The last salad I had in China, was lettuce, corn, onion and tomato. The salad I made here, was lettuce, carrot, tomato, cucumber and dried cranberries! Ooo, and my wonderful friend Laura (who's put us up for a few days) had la dinner party the night before, and so Darren and I were able to reep the leftovers! She made grilled cheese sandwiches (with real cheddar!!!) , while we ate leftover Greek salad (which is the best kind), and she fed us cake and Doritos as well! This afternoon, Darren was fortunate enough to have some marinated lamb skewers for lunch with fresh vegetables.
By the way, when we got to mainland China, it dawned on us just how different Hong Kong really is from China, and now that we're back in Hong Kong, the difference is only more apparent. Everything in Hong Kong seems cleaner, even the people. Not only that, but after two months of learning the language and counting on it to get by in our day to day, we suddenly can't use it anymore. Laura was saying that Hong Kongers will actually give you dirty looks if you speak Mandarin and don't speak it well. It's like reverse culture shock in some ways. Our first day back in Hong Kong (where most of the people speak English) and we suddenly felt lost and unable to communicate. I found myself repressing urges to speak in Mandarin. Certain words and phrases had become a reflex and now we don't need them anymore (for those who don't know, in Hong Kong they speak Cantonese, which is pretty different from Mandarin).
Anyway, from here, we're leaving for Bali and I can't wait to see what kind of food they have in store for us there. Everyone we talk to raves about the food in SE Asia. The satays, the curry... I'm really excited (to eat of course. As if I starved in China which couldn't be further from the truth). So it's to a whole new world once again, and like always, I'll try to keep everyone updated, but there's no telling what the internet access will be like on the beaches ;). We are talking about getting a cell phone for SE Asia, so if I can't always update the blog, family, we will be able to call more often.
We may or may not have lunch with Tom and Rosemary tomorrow (Darren's cousins), and then it's Bon Voyage once again. It's going to be very different and hopefully exciting!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Rain: with a side of the Dragon Backbone Terraces
Well, we've been in Guilin for a couple of days and just got back from the Dragon Backbone Terraces. We left yesterday and took a local bus to Longsheng, then another local bus (with a bunch of school kids) to Dazai. As we were inquring about the bus to Dazai (in Longsheng) a man approached us trying to get us to come stay at his hostel. We took his card and said we'd think about it. We met yet another Canadian traveller (from Edmonton) on the bus as well and he got a little turned around (thought he was on a bus to Ping'an), so this guy (trying to get us to stay at his hotel) told this other Canadian he would show him a quick way around the patties so he could catch his bus back in time. More confusion later, this guide thought that all the Canadians were in a group together, and when he realised the guy from Edmonton wasn't staying the night and we were, he ditched the other kid and started following us. The guy was actually super friendly, called Darren by his Chinese name the entire time, and basically guided us through the rice patties to the viewpoing we wanted to go to, and then guided us to the village to his hotel.
Before I go on, the rice terraces are amazing! Apparently the ones in the south of Yunnan are better but those would have to be out of this world because these terraces were breathtaking. They were so beautiful. The entire area is basically a string of villages up in the mountains, and every mountain for as far as the eye can see, from the bottom to the very top, is covered in rice patties! It's actually unbelievable, especially when you consider that these terraces are 600-700 years old! The irrigation system as well, given the time they were built is unreal as well. They've basically rerouted the water that runs down and through the mountains so that it flows through the rice patties--all of them--top to bottom. Some modern technologies have been interwined (plastic pipes alongside the bamboo "pipes"), but it's still incredibly impressive.
Anyway, we ended up staying at this man's hostel, it was actually nice (just the basics, but with hot water), and the view from our room was pretty amazing. Not only were the mountains literally a breath of fresh air, but this man was genuinely trying to earn an honest living and didn't try ripping us off, also a breath of fresh air. It didn't seem there was anyone else staying at this hotel/inn (which was essentially a large wooden house on stilts), just ourselves and this man and his family (his wife and baby boy). He only charged us 50 RMB for the room (a double bed with bathroom) and we didn't even have to bargain. They cooked us dinner which was delicious and reasonably priced and we really appreciated his efforts and honesty. His hotel is one of many in the area and further back along the trail than the others and we figured business must be difficult for them and we were really happy to stay in the area. To get into the Longji area they charge a 50 RMB fee, which apparently, the locals don't see a penny of. There's no road system really, between the villages, and it seems you basically have to walk to one of the town ends to get a bus to take you anywhere. Consequently, when the little old ladies with their super long hair come trying to sell you things, you basically want to give them your money. One lady on the bus sold us a little wallet for 5 RMB, and that was her asking price. After we finished eating dinner a woman, who we think was our hosts mother, sold us a few knicknacks as well. The minority people and the culture is just incredible and seems well preserved, probably due to the isolation of the area. Don't get the wrong idea though, Longji is still touristy, but not as bad as some places, and it's more Ping'an than Dazai.
Our evening was fairly relaxing and we went to bed early, planning on an early morning and early hike to get to Ping'an where we would catch our bus to Guilin. Even before our alarms went off however, the sound of the rain pouring out of the skies woke us up. It poured and thundered so loud we weren't sure if we were even going to attempt to make the hike. The paths were flooded even in the village and we didn't want to imagine how flooded they'd be out between the rice patties. If you've been watching the news or international weather at all (not that you would), you'll know that China has been receiving an unprecedented amount of rain. Some places in Southern China are being evacuated and seeing such flooding that the government is sending in military aid. Guilin and the surrounding area isn't quite that bad, but the rain hasn't been letting up, and today was no exception. It lightened a little as we ventured out but it wasn't long before we were caught in a total downpour with thunder like I've never heard before in my life. It was like two or three different clashes all strung together. Darren and I both looked at eachother at first, thinking "that didn't sound good" and then it just kept on going. It was strange.
At one point, Darren and I stopped under a tree to wait out a really heavy fall, and a little snake came slithering out of the bushes, stopped and froze for a while on the path, and then went on his way ducking back into the bushes on the other side. I was creeped out at first (you never know if these things are poisonous right away), and Darren tried sticking his foot out at it, which is why it stopped in the first place. We actually saw a mass amount of strange looking bugs that we've never seen before; odd beatles, massive fist-sized spider (gross!), and butterflies everywhere.
Anyway, we walked, through the rain, soaked to the bone for about an hour and a half until we got lost. You know that squishy feeling you get in your shoes when you've stepped in a puddle? Well that's what it was like after a half hour of walking. Once we got lost though, we hired a guide (because you can't just ask for directions without being asked if you'd like them to show you the way for a small fee), and this woman was incredible. She was one of the local ladies, and was wearing a pair of green tennis shoes, rolled up pants, a plastic bag tied around her neck, and one of those bamboo hats--she was dry as a bone (with the exception of her feet--no socks). Not only did she somehow manage to stay dry with so much rain spewing from the skies, but she was so speedy! The whole trail is lined with stones (so you're not stepping in the mud), and when wet, those slate-like stones are slick! She was so quick and so fast, Darren and I had a hard time keeping up. We both slipped once or twice just trying to keep pace with her. We stopped in her village for lunch, and she was so funny, running around, yelling through peoples' windows, trying to find us a place to eat. She would stand at the top of a trail and start yelling (seemingly at no one) until a window popped open and couple heads popped out, and they exchanged yells. We eventually found ourselves in another wooden house on stilts, that had two fire pits dug into the floor, surrounded by a square of tiles; these, are essentially what they use as stoves. The houses in this area, also leave their windows open for swallows. There was a small nest just inside one of the windows, and we just sat watching them come and go. It was also pretty amazing watching the locals cook an entire meal over one little fire with one wock. Of course, they did have some electric appliances, a rice cooker being one of them (almost the only one). There was also a little boy/girl (you never can tell, which could be why some of the kids run around bearing all) at the house we were eating at, and I couldn't believe how good this kid was with chopsticks. He (most likely a boy) was running around with a bowl of rice and his chopsticks and not spilling a thing. He couldn't have been more than three or four. It's funny though, people here seem to use their chopsticks backwards compared to the way we hold ours (but I guess we're the ones who hold them backwards seeing as the Chinese were using them long before we were). At one point, we gave him an Oreo, and one to his mom, and he ran after his mom whining, handed her his bowl of rice and took her cookie! It was pretty funny. But before long we were back out in the rain.
Eventually, maybe an hour later, we passed some western tourists, our guide collected her fee, motioned which way to go, and left to go see if she could get herself some new customers! She was hilarious! On our own, we eventually made it to the road that leads to the parking lot. Pretty sure no one drives on this thing because there were landslides everywhere! It was pretty intense and even a little scary. You didn't want to walk between the edge of the road and the giant crack in it, but you also didn't want to walk too close to the side where all the mud and rocks were falling either. At one point, once the buses were finally in sight, I was trying to be all "light" on my feet and jump from one rock to another to avoid the water, and of course, my foot slipped and my leg was sucked into the mud right up to my knee. In trying to catch my balance, my other foot went in as well. Both my feet were covered in thick, orange mud. Darren said it looked like I wasn't even wearing shoes. Ya....
Soaked and muddy, we eventually made it to the parking lot (I washed my feet and shoes and threw out my socks which no longer resembled any shade of white) and we hitched a ride with a tour group back to Guilin. Once we got to Guilin, the bus dropped us off somewhere near the train station, and it was another twenty minute walk (felt like twenty hours) back to our hotel. On our way, we saw one guy steal an umbrella from an unsuspecting store and two guys try to steel something out of a woman's purse. We were just walking along and these two guys were walking towards us. As they passed these two women, they suddenly turned around and started sneaking behind them. At first I thought they knew them and were trying to sneak up on them, but then we saw the one guy reaching his hand into the woman's purse. At this point, Darren and I both had very little patience. We were soaked and uncomfortable, and seeing this just set Darren off. He yelled out, scared the women, who then realised this guy had his hand in her purse, and Darren looked like he was ready to tear this kid apart. He made sure the woman was okay and had everything before he stopped staring the kid down. The entire time we've been in China we haven't experienced or noticed anything like this (we've only experienced the blatant sort of thievery), and it seemed strange to see it twice in one day.
Anyway, the terraces were beautiful, but we're sick of the rain. Forecast says it's supposed to last for two more days. Here's hoping it's not any longer. We're off to Yangshuo tomorrow and then Hong Kong before going to Bali (the weather forecast for Bali is pure sunshine!). Hope everyone is well and enjoying the sun back home. It seems we're hoarding the rain for a little while!
Before I go on, the rice terraces are amazing! Apparently the ones in the south of Yunnan are better but those would have to be out of this world because these terraces were breathtaking. They were so beautiful. The entire area is basically a string of villages up in the mountains, and every mountain for as far as the eye can see, from the bottom to the very top, is covered in rice patties! It's actually unbelievable, especially when you consider that these terraces are 600-700 years old! The irrigation system as well, given the time they were built is unreal as well. They've basically rerouted the water that runs down and through the mountains so that it flows through the rice patties--all of them--top to bottom. Some modern technologies have been interwined (plastic pipes alongside the bamboo "pipes"), but it's still incredibly impressive.
Anyway, we ended up staying at this man's hostel, it was actually nice (just the basics, but with hot water), and the view from our room was pretty amazing. Not only were the mountains literally a breath of fresh air, but this man was genuinely trying to earn an honest living and didn't try ripping us off, also a breath of fresh air. It didn't seem there was anyone else staying at this hotel/inn (which was essentially a large wooden house on stilts), just ourselves and this man and his family (his wife and baby boy). He only charged us 50 RMB for the room (a double bed with bathroom) and we didn't even have to bargain. They cooked us dinner which was delicious and reasonably priced and we really appreciated his efforts and honesty. His hotel is one of many in the area and further back along the trail than the others and we figured business must be difficult for them and we were really happy to stay in the area. To get into the Longji area they charge a 50 RMB fee, which apparently, the locals don't see a penny of. There's no road system really, between the villages, and it seems you basically have to walk to one of the town ends to get a bus to take you anywhere. Consequently, when the little old ladies with their super long hair come trying to sell you things, you basically want to give them your money. One lady on the bus sold us a little wallet for 5 RMB, and that was her asking price. After we finished eating dinner a woman, who we think was our hosts mother, sold us a few knicknacks as well. The minority people and the culture is just incredible and seems well preserved, probably due to the isolation of the area. Don't get the wrong idea though, Longji is still touristy, but not as bad as some places, and it's more Ping'an than Dazai.
Our evening was fairly relaxing and we went to bed early, planning on an early morning and early hike to get to Ping'an where we would catch our bus to Guilin. Even before our alarms went off however, the sound of the rain pouring out of the skies woke us up. It poured and thundered so loud we weren't sure if we were even going to attempt to make the hike. The paths were flooded even in the village and we didn't want to imagine how flooded they'd be out between the rice patties. If you've been watching the news or international weather at all (not that you would), you'll know that China has been receiving an unprecedented amount of rain. Some places in Southern China are being evacuated and seeing such flooding that the government is sending in military aid. Guilin and the surrounding area isn't quite that bad, but the rain hasn't been letting up, and today was no exception. It lightened a little as we ventured out but it wasn't long before we were caught in a total downpour with thunder like I've never heard before in my life. It was like two or three different clashes all strung together. Darren and I both looked at eachother at first, thinking "that didn't sound good" and then it just kept on going. It was strange.
At one point, Darren and I stopped under a tree to wait out a really heavy fall, and a little snake came slithering out of the bushes, stopped and froze for a while on the path, and then went on his way ducking back into the bushes on the other side. I was creeped out at first (you never know if these things are poisonous right away), and Darren tried sticking his foot out at it, which is why it stopped in the first place. We actually saw a mass amount of strange looking bugs that we've never seen before; odd beatles, massive fist-sized spider (gross!), and butterflies everywhere.
Anyway, we walked, through the rain, soaked to the bone for about an hour and a half until we got lost. You know that squishy feeling you get in your shoes when you've stepped in a puddle? Well that's what it was like after a half hour of walking. Once we got lost though, we hired a guide (because you can't just ask for directions without being asked if you'd like them to show you the way for a small fee), and this woman was incredible. She was one of the local ladies, and was wearing a pair of green tennis shoes, rolled up pants, a plastic bag tied around her neck, and one of those bamboo hats--she was dry as a bone (with the exception of her feet--no socks). Not only did she somehow manage to stay dry with so much rain spewing from the skies, but she was so speedy! The whole trail is lined with stones (so you're not stepping in the mud), and when wet, those slate-like stones are slick! She was so quick and so fast, Darren and I had a hard time keeping up. We both slipped once or twice just trying to keep pace with her. We stopped in her village for lunch, and she was so funny, running around, yelling through peoples' windows, trying to find us a place to eat. She would stand at the top of a trail and start yelling (seemingly at no one) until a window popped open and couple heads popped out, and they exchanged yells. We eventually found ourselves in another wooden house on stilts, that had two fire pits dug into the floor, surrounded by a square of tiles; these, are essentially what they use as stoves. The houses in this area, also leave their windows open for swallows. There was a small nest just inside one of the windows, and we just sat watching them come and go. It was also pretty amazing watching the locals cook an entire meal over one little fire with one wock. Of course, they did have some electric appliances, a rice cooker being one of them (almost the only one). There was also a little boy/girl (you never can tell, which could be why some of the kids run around bearing all) at the house we were eating at, and I couldn't believe how good this kid was with chopsticks. He (most likely a boy) was running around with a bowl of rice and his chopsticks and not spilling a thing. He couldn't have been more than three or four. It's funny though, people here seem to use their chopsticks backwards compared to the way we hold ours (but I guess we're the ones who hold them backwards seeing as the Chinese were using them long before we were). At one point, we gave him an Oreo, and one to his mom, and he ran after his mom whining, handed her his bowl of rice and took her cookie! It was pretty funny. But before long we were back out in the rain.
Eventually, maybe an hour later, we passed some western tourists, our guide collected her fee, motioned which way to go, and left to go see if she could get herself some new customers! She was hilarious! On our own, we eventually made it to the road that leads to the parking lot. Pretty sure no one drives on this thing because there were landslides everywhere! It was pretty intense and even a little scary. You didn't want to walk between the edge of the road and the giant crack in it, but you also didn't want to walk too close to the side where all the mud and rocks were falling either. At one point, once the buses were finally in sight, I was trying to be all "light" on my feet and jump from one rock to another to avoid the water, and of course, my foot slipped and my leg was sucked into the mud right up to my knee. In trying to catch my balance, my other foot went in as well. Both my feet were covered in thick, orange mud. Darren said it looked like I wasn't even wearing shoes. Ya....
Soaked and muddy, we eventually made it to the parking lot (I washed my feet and shoes and threw out my socks which no longer resembled any shade of white) and we hitched a ride with a tour group back to Guilin. Once we got to Guilin, the bus dropped us off somewhere near the train station, and it was another twenty minute walk (felt like twenty hours) back to our hotel. On our way, we saw one guy steal an umbrella from an unsuspecting store and two guys try to steel something out of a woman's purse. We were just walking along and these two guys were walking towards us. As they passed these two women, they suddenly turned around and started sneaking behind them. At first I thought they knew them and were trying to sneak up on them, but then we saw the one guy reaching his hand into the woman's purse. At this point, Darren and I both had very little patience. We were soaked and uncomfortable, and seeing this just set Darren off. He yelled out, scared the women, who then realised this guy had his hand in her purse, and Darren looked like he was ready to tear this kid apart. He made sure the woman was okay and had everything before he stopped staring the kid down. The entire time we've been in China we haven't experienced or noticed anything like this (we've only experienced the blatant sort of thievery), and it seemed strange to see it twice in one day.
Anyway, the terraces were beautiful, but we're sick of the rain. Forecast says it's supposed to last for two more days. Here's hoping it's not any longer. We're off to Yangshuo tomorrow and then Hong Kong before going to Bali (the weather forecast for Bali is pure sunshine!). Hope everyone is well and enjoying the sun back home. It seems we're hoarding the rain for a little while!
Monday, June 21, 2010
The Tiger Leaping Lijiang
It’s been a couple days since we were in Lijiang and we hiked the Tiger Leaping Gorge. In a way, a lot has happened since and at the same time not much has happened at all; but, I’ll recall the hike as best I can.
We left our cozy little lodge in Dali and headed for Lijiang around 4pm on Monday the 14th (I think). As soon as we got to Lijiang we didn’t really like the look of it. On the one hand, it reminded us of Disneyland (downtown Disney); on the other hand, it was all the crowds and anticipation, but without the satisfaction of seeing Mickey or Ariel. It took us forever to find our hostel on that first night. The map and directions we got off the internet were grossly incorrect and we walked, weaving in and out of the masses of people, with massive packs on our backs, for about an hour before we stopped at another hostel who called our hostel. They sent someone to fetch us, and it was another ten minute walk to a place we never would have found on own. (As soon as we got there, the two that came to find us were sent off to fetch some other lost souls as well.) In that first hour and a bit of walking, all we passed were stores and bars and stores and bars and stores and bars with the occasional store and bar. With the World Cup in full swing, the noises that hit you like a slap in the face as you walked by was a combination… more like a battle... between the Chinese sports announcers, off-key karaoke, various forms of music and singing, and the occasional soliciting call. You have to hand it to them though the Chinese do know how to party. An all out party district isn’t the first thing you’d normally think of when you hear of Old Town Lijiang, but that’s what it is. It’s where the locals go to let loose on the weekends and celebrate after exams. When we arrived, it was a long weekend and the end of the school year, but apparently it’s always that busy. As soon as we checked in and dumped our bags, I was pretty hungry and extremely unpleasant to be around, so I went off and wandered the streets, had some Naxi fried rice and read my book. (On my way out the door, there were roses everywhere and someone was lighting a bunch of candles. Apparently, not long after I left, someone at the hostel proposed to his girlfriend there. I saw pictures. It was funny… so much effort into roses and candles and the kid was wearing ratty jeans and a t-shirt. Ha ha ha… It was still sweet.) Before I left, Darren had already started asking about the Tiger Leaping Gorge, an overnight hike which we’d have to leave for at 8 in the morning. We’d just gotten off a very bumpy six hour bus ride (they were doing construction), then walked through town for an hour with a very heavy pack on, and when I told him I didn’t know if I wanted to go and that I was exhausted, and he asked me how I could possibly be exhausted, I lost it. He tossed me a fifty (RMB) and we didn’t talk for an hour or so. I was still a little peeved when I got back, but much more tolerable and we discussed the hike again, and decided to go. I’m glad we did.
The bus picked us up at 8 am. There were seven of us to a bus (eight with the driver) and ours consisted of Darren and I, a brother and sister from Vancouver, Luke and Claudia, and a girl named Angela, originally from Columbia, now living in Main, and a guy from Mexico named Erik (we gave him a hard time about his very un-Mexican sounding name, and from then on we had to pronounce it with a rolling “r”). It was an interesting group of people and a lot of fun. We all got along really well, and had a lot to talk about; politics, health care, and of course, travel. The bus dropped us off at one end of the bridge where we changed buses and drove over to the other side of the bridge. Apparently the bridge is more or less a border crossing between Lijiang and Shangrila, and drivers are only allowed to drive on their own respective sides. They were also doing construction on the stretch of road that normally leads to the actual section of the Tiger Leaping Gorge, so “yay for us”, no entrance fee. By the time we actually started our hike, it was about noon, and I think Claudia and I sort of took the lead and started strong. (Claudia was a sprinter/middle distance runner for UBC—she basically lived out my dream years and we had lots to talk about.) I really like Claudia… anyone who carries a constant supply of Snickers is worth keeping around in my books. Like myself, she needs a constant intake of sugar or she too becomes somewhat unpleasant (or so she says because I didn’t notice… or she just never went hungry). She was also, with the influence of a little Baijo, able to tell Darren that while his beard isn’t bad, it is a little “pre-pubescent” (she denies ever saying so), we got along quite well. The first stretch of the hike is a decent climb and by the time we hit the Naxi Family Guesthouse we had worked up quite an appetite. The group of us stopped for lunch (which was excellent) and tea, and kept on truckin’. Walking along the rugged trails, we kept our way by following the green and red arrows spray painted on rocks and trees. The next stretch ahead of us was the “28 Bends” which was a series of 28 (who woulda guessed) steep switchbacks (not than anybody actually counted though). Just before hand there was a woman selling water and snacks and, what else but little bags of weed with labels that said “Good for the 28 bends”. That gave us all a laugh. The 28 bends were pretty intense, but once passed them the trail levelled out, fairly flat, cutting straight across the mountains. We stopped at the “Tea Horse” (which I kept mistaking for “Tea House”, I thought it was just incorrect spelling at first) for tea and snacks before continuing on our hike. A little more relaxed with the levelled out trail, we were able to really take in the beautiful scenery, and the views were spectacular. After a couple of hours, maybe around six or seven, we stopped for the night at the Halfway Guesthouse. They have a deck/patio that looks right out onto the mountain across from it, and it is quite a sight. I tried capturing the magnificence of the mountain with a pano, but I couldn’t quite get it. Just look at the pano, then think ten times more amazing. We never were able to see the tops of the peaks because the clouds were constantly floating in and around them, but that was part of what made it so amazing. As you were eating, dinner or breakfast, the clouds would slowly weave their way through the peaks, constantly changing the look of the mountains. It was fantastic. I think we could’ve stayed there forever.
That night at the Halfway Guesthouse was a fun one too. It started with beer but ended with Baijo, which is a 46% rice wine (Tanya and Frank, we’ve got a little taste to bring home for ya). We started playing Russian Cheat, and ended with Spoons. Poor Jorge (another Mexican friend), he really had a tough time with Spoons and consequently took quite a few shots. The one time he did win though… I’ve never seen anyone look more proud or more elated! It was awesome! “I love Spoons!” The rest of the night included interpretive dancing, dramatic monologues, some solid Mexican serenading on Jorge’s part… into a spoon of course, and a few other shocking and hilarious one-liners only for the brave of heart. It was a great night spent with great people, and despite the noise complaint and Claudia’s incessant banging on the table, we really enjoyed ourselves. Kudos to our little group, you guys were awesome!
The next morning, we got up bright and early (some of us didn’t even really sleep, poor Jorge) and had a wonderful breakfast. Before I forget, the Halfway House makes an incredible pancake. Banana and chocolate was my favourite, though the apple and banana was also delicious, and the banana and honey Claudia had for breakfast (which I had to taste test) was also amazing. If you ever go, don’t leave without having a pancake. We kinda hurried out, trying to beat the group of students on the trail, and the hike only got more amazing. We were told that people generally like to take their time on that last leg of the hike, between the Halfway Guesthouse and Tina’s, and we can see why. What would normally be a pretty quick hike, probably almost doubled in time with all the picture taking. There were beautiful views of the mountains, the local rice fields and waterfalls. That leg of the hike, for the most part wasn’t too steep, though it had its moments, and for some of our hikers (given their state the night before) they were some tough moments. We made it down to Tina’s though, grabbed a snack and some fluids and then made our way down to the “Middle Gorge”. Some people stop at Tina’s and grab the bus back to the bridge and back to Lijiang, but we wanted to keep going.
Now, there are two paths to take down to the Gorge, there is the “safe” path and the ladder path. As per the advice of the “gate keeper” (there’s no gate, but she’s the local woman whose family created and maintains the first half of the path and so you can’t get by without paying her 10 RMB), we went down the safe path and would circle around and come up the ladder path. The safe path was steep and along the way you’d see these make-shift stretchers which weren’t convincing. At least I think they were make-shift stretchers. They were basically legless wicker chairs strapped to two long pieces of wood. The daunting trip down was totally worth it though. The view of the Gorge from the path was slightly blocked by trees, and once you came out into the clearing and onto the little bridge the rush of water and high cliffs takes your breath away. There is so much water forcing its way through that Gorge that you can’t help but feel a surge of energy. It’s actually a little intense, it’s very loud, and at the same time, it’s extremely calming and peaceful. I actually video-taped a full two minutes of the gushing water (which you’ll have to wait and see until we get home). When we first got there, we were all sort of running around taking pictures and climbing rocks, until at one point, I looked around and everyone was just sitting, somewhere, watching and listening. That place was amazing. You could stare at the thundering water forever. There was so much force there, I’m glad they decided to cancel the contract to damn it up, but who knows how long that’s going to last.
Hesitantly, we pulled ourselves away from this wonder of nature and headed up to the “Sky Ladder path”. Along with stretchers, there’s also a sign at the foot of this path which says that the path is dangerous, to be careful, and that those who successfully climb this path are said to be lucky. There’s also a woman, selling water, red bull and other fluids who was stationed at a cross roads where the ladder and the safe path intersect. Her way of expressing the two different paths was priceless. Body language is highly effective, and quite amusing. She pointed to the safe path and exclaimed “hao” (good) and then pointed to the ladder path, motioning a ladder and then clutching her body and shaking as though she were cold but then making the shuddering sounds you might associate with fright. She then proceeded to point and wave her hands at the ladder path while frowning, then pointing to the “safe” path and smiling. We decided to take our chances. Bring it on! It was an intense climb. The first ladder was quite long and literally ventured straight up the side of the mountain. There used to be an old wooden ladder, which they’ve left there but reinforced with re-bar, and a rebar cage (who are they kidding though, that’s not going to stop you if you fall). I’d like to tell you how high it went, but you couldn’t see all the way to the end from either the top or the bottom, and at no point was I dumb enough to look down while actually climbing the thing. Each and every one of our hearts was pounding when we got to the top. The second ladder wasn’t quite as steep, and once you’ve climbed the first the second one feels like a breeze. I’m actually glad we took the woman’s advice and went down the other way and up the ladders, because it would’ve been terrifying climbing down those things. That wasn’t the end of it though. While the fear of dangling from a few sticks of rebar may have passed (sorry Mom, we’re being safe, I promise), there was still an intense climb ahead. We were all sweating and breathing heavy—even for Claudia who’s only been retired for a year and is still quite active. It was steep, and it was hard, but it felt amazing. There’s another guesthouse at the tope of the trail and as our head peaked over the steps we rejoiced! I think we were all pretty proud of ourselves. As the other half of our group (the smoking half—sorry to out you guys ;)) got to the top of the stairs, we were all gathered to applaud and congratulate. It was a fantastic two days, and a tough two days, but it was amazing.
To spend two days, out in the middle of the mountains, away from the swarms of people who seem to be ALMOST everywhere, was a breath of fresh air… literally actually. You see, if it’s difficult, if they can’t do it in a pair of high heels, the Chinese wont. There were maybe six Chinese people we saw on the whole hike, and they were the exceptions, in their rain gear and hiking boots. Harold, we know you did the hike, you know how beautiful it is. We loved it and it would recommend it to anyone who heads out this way. I think part of the amazing thing was just to be really moving again, to break a sweat and not because of the heat. We do walk a lot, but most of the mountains/adventurous excursions we take-on have nicely paved paths of wooden walkways. It’s only since we’ve been in Yunnan that we’ve been able to head out onto a mountain and actually go for a real hike. It’s nice to feel that burn in your legs… even if it means that you smell really bad for two days because you didn’t pack anything but extra socks and underwear. (Deodorant couldn’t even mask the stink that Darren’s dry-fit decided to exude full force.) I think the Gorge is going on our list of favourites in China.
The bus back to Lijiang was long and bumpy and we were all pretty exhausted and hungry (we ran out of Snickers and refused to pay 10 RMB to buy more). With the construction and condition of the roads, apparently, only locals are allowed to drive on them, because only they are capable of “reading” the roads and responding effectively to anything that might go wrong (ie. rocks falling from above you, or the rocks/road falling out from underneath you). It was raining when we left and the mountain sides weren’t looking so stable. Luke said he saw one massive boulder being propped up by a stick no thicker than my arm (don’t worry Mom). We did get back eventually, and in one piece, and after showering off the stink and changing, we went into town for some hot pot. (Claudia hadn’t had hot pot yet and was leaving in a few days). As we were about to sit down, we ran into a Frenchman who we had also seen on the hike. (He had actually made friends with an elderly local man at the Halfway Guesthouse and they got into quite the conversation. Though neither of them could understand each other, body language did the trick; however, the interpretations might have been a little off. The bit about hunting bears and lions across the Gorge was accurate, but apparently the Frenchman’s interpretation of the Chinese guy hiding up in the mountains and hunting Japanese was a little less accurate. An American/Chinese traveller had a hard time understanding the man because of the dialects, but assured the Frenchman that he was talking about installing the cables and wiring up in the mountains, not hunting Japanese. I like the Frenchman’s story better and so did he.) Anyway, hot pot was delicious, and in the way it should be done, we spent the night exchanging travel stories and filling our tummies. I don’t think we could’ve ended our adventure with our new friends any better than that.
Darren and I were unable to get a train directly to Kunming for another two-three days, and because we weren’t all that fond of Lijiang to begin with, we were easily persuaded (by ourselves) to take the bus back to Dali and head to Kunming via another bus. We arrived in Dali early in the evening, enjoyed some delicious dinner at Namaste (mmmm… samosas, vindaloo, butter naan, and chilli paneer) and just took the night off to rest (at the Sleepy Fish Lodge again, we love it there). It was the next morning that we got in touch with family and updated on everything that was going on at home, and so spent that day with our own thoughts. I’m glad we were in a familiar city, in warm and welcoming accommodations. I would’ve hated to be in the city that day. Our second trip to Dali was a few days off from the outside world. Inside the walls of the Old Town you really can just shut off for a little while, which we did. Yesterday, we took another bus to Kunming, and we are currently on a train to Guilin.
As a side note, I have no book to read because “Mandarin Books” (in Kunming) is a rip off. I bought a used book from them (“The Time Traveller’s Wife”—which was amazing) for 65 RMB, which is expensive. They have signs everywhere that say that they buy used English books, and when I brought it back to trade in, they told me they’d give me 6 RMB—no, that’s not a typo, that’s a 6.0, six= just less than $1. I knew I wasn’t going to get a lot for it, but I figured at least 30 RMB or so… but no, they offered me 6 and wouldn’t budge. So, instead of giving it to them for 6 so they could sell it for 65 again, I kept it. I’d rather just give it away. At least I would save someone else from getting ripped off. I could also trade it in if I ever find a decent book exchange. Not wanting to give them any more of our business, I didn’t buy myself a new book. So a 20 hour train ride, no book, and only 3 hours of battery remaining on the lap top. Oh well! You win some you lose some… but we’ve got a pretty good idea of why they say “never do business with a Chinaman” (no offence anyone).
Once there, it’ll be about two weeks exploring Guilin, Yangshuo and the Dragon Backbone Terraces before we’re back in Hong Kong and leaving for Bali. Hope everyone is well, especially back in Prince George. We send you all our love and are thinking about you guys all the time. Sounds like you’re doing pretty well though. Tell Kong Kong we’ll bring back some Baijo for him too ;), and Frank and Joel, that BBQ looked DELICIOUS! Miss you all and it’ll be regards from Guilin next. (Mom, get Vinni to e-mail me Ayla’s number so I can call her on her birthday. I haven’t heard from you guys in a while and you’re never home when I call. Love you!)
PS- For those of you who haven't figured it out (ie. Erika), I've stopped posting pictures in the actual blogs because it takes too long, but there are links to albums and slideshows at the bottom of the page!
We left our cozy little lodge in Dali and headed for Lijiang around 4pm on Monday the 14th (I think). As soon as we got to Lijiang we didn’t really like the look of it. On the one hand, it reminded us of Disneyland (downtown Disney); on the other hand, it was all the crowds and anticipation, but without the satisfaction of seeing Mickey or Ariel. It took us forever to find our hostel on that first night. The map and directions we got off the internet were grossly incorrect and we walked, weaving in and out of the masses of people, with massive packs on our backs, for about an hour before we stopped at another hostel who called our hostel. They sent someone to fetch us, and it was another ten minute walk to a place we never would have found on own. (As soon as we got there, the two that came to find us were sent off to fetch some other lost souls as well.) In that first hour and a bit of walking, all we passed were stores and bars and stores and bars and stores and bars with the occasional store and bar. With the World Cup in full swing, the noises that hit you like a slap in the face as you walked by was a combination… more like a battle... between the Chinese sports announcers, off-key karaoke, various forms of music and singing, and the occasional soliciting call. You have to hand it to them though the Chinese do know how to party. An all out party district isn’t the first thing you’d normally think of when you hear of Old Town Lijiang, but that’s what it is. It’s where the locals go to let loose on the weekends and celebrate after exams. When we arrived, it was a long weekend and the end of the school year, but apparently it’s always that busy. As soon as we checked in and dumped our bags, I was pretty hungry and extremely unpleasant to be around, so I went off and wandered the streets, had some Naxi fried rice and read my book. (On my way out the door, there were roses everywhere and someone was lighting a bunch of candles. Apparently, not long after I left, someone at the hostel proposed to his girlfriend there. I saw pictures. It was funny… so much effort into roses and candles and the kid was wearing ratty jeans and a t-shirt. Ha ha ha… It was still sweet.) Before I left, Darren had already started asking about the Tiger Leaping Gorge, an overnight hike which we’d have to leave for at 8 in the morning. We’d just gotten off a very bumpy six hour bus ride (they were doing construction), then walked through town for an hour with a very heavy pack on, and when I told him I didn’t know if I wanted to go and that I was exhausted, and he asked me how I could possibly be exhausted, I lost it. He tossed me a fifty (RMB) and we didn’t talk for an hour or so. I was still a little peeved when I got back, but much more tolerable and we discussed the hike again, and decided to go. I’m glad we did.
The bus picked us up at 8 am. There were seven of us to a bus (eight with the driver) and ours consisted of Darren and I, a brother and sister from Vancouver, Luke and Claudia, and a girl named Angela, originally from Columbia, now living in Main, and a guy from Mexico named Erik (we gave him a hard time about his very un-Mexican sounding name, and from then on we had to pronounce it with a rolling “r”). It was an interesting group of people and a lot of fun. We all got along really well, and had a lot to talk about; politics, health care, and of course, travel. The bus dropped us off at one end of the bridge where we changed buses and drove over to the other side of the bridge. Apparently the bridge is more or less a border crossing between Lijiang and Shangrila, and drivers are only allowed to drive on their own respective sides. They were also doing construction on the stretch of road that normally leads to the actual section of the Tiger Leaping Gorge, so “yay for us”, no entrance fee. By the time we actually started our hike, it was about noon, and I think Claudia and I sort of took the lead and started strong. (Claudia was a sprinter/middle distance runner for UBC—she basically lived out my dream years and we had lots to talk about.) I really like Claudia… anyone who carries a constant supply of Snickers is worth keeping around in my books. Like myself, she needs a constant intake of sugar or she too becomes somewhat unpleasant (or so she says because I didn’t notice… or she just never went hungry). She was also, with the influence of a little Baijo, able to tell Darren that while his beard isn’t bad, it is a little “pre-pubescent” (she denies ever saying so), we got along quite well. The first stretch of the hike is a decent climb and by the time we hit the Naxi Family Guesthouse we had worked up quite an appetite. The group of us stopped for lunch (which was excellent) and tea, and kept on truckin’. Walking along the rugged trails, we kept our way by following the green and red arrows spray painted on rocks and trees. The next stretch ahead of us was the “28 Bends” which was a series of 28 (who woulda guessed) steep switchbacks (not than anybody actually counted though). Just before hand there was a woman selling water and snacks and, what else but little bags of weed with labels that said “Good for the 28 bends”. That gave us all a laugh. The 28 bends were pretty intense, but once passed them the trail levelled out, fairly flat, cutting straight across the mountains. We stopped at the “Tea Horse” (which I kept mistaking for “Tea House”, I thought it was just incorrect spelling at first) for tea and snacks before continuing on our hike. A little more relaxed with the levelled out trail, we were able to really take in the beautiful scenery, and the views were spectacular. After a couple of hours, maybe around six or seven, we stopped for the night at the Halfway Guesthouse. They have a deck/patio that looks right out onto the mountain across from it, and it is quite a sight. I tried capturing the magnificence of the mountain with a pano, but I couldn’t quite get it. Just look at the pano, then think ten times more amazing. We never were able to see the tops of the peaks because the clouds were constantly floating in and around them, but that was part of what made it so amazing. As you were eating, dinner or breakfast, the clouds would slowly weave their way through the peaks, constantly changing the look of the mountains. It was fantastic. I think we could’ve stayed there forever.
That night at the Halfway Guesthouse was a fun one too. It started with beer but ended with Baijo, which is a 46% rice wine (Tanya and Frank, we’ve got a little taste to bring home for ya). We started playing Russian Cheat, and ended with Spoons. Poor Jorge (another Mexican friend), he really had a tough time with Spoons and consequently took quite a few shots. The one time he did win though… I’ve never seen anyone look more proud or more elated! It was awesome! “I love Spoons!” The rest of the night included interpretive dancing, dramatic monologues, some solid Mexican serenading on Jorge’s part… into a spoon of course, and a few other shocking and hilarious one-liners only for the brave of heart. It was a great night spent with great people, and despite the noise complaint and Claudia’s incessant banging on the table, we really enjoyed ourselves. Kudos to our little group, you guys were awesome!
The next morning, we got up bright and early (some of us didn’t even really sleep, poor Jorge) and had a wonderful breakfast. Before I forget, the Halfway House makes an incredible pancake. Banana and chocolate was my favourite, though the apple and banana was also delicious, and the banana and honey Claudia had for breakfast (which I had to taste test) was also amazing. If you ever go, don’t leave without having a pancake. We kinda hurried out, trying to beat the group of students on the trail, and the hike only got more amazing. We were told that people generally like to take their time on that last leg of the hike, between the Halfway Guesthouse and Tina’s, and we can see why. What would normally be a pretty quick hike, probably almost doubled in time with all the picture taking. There were beautiful views of the mountains, the local rice fields and waterfalls. That leg of the hike, for the most part wasn’t too steep, though it had its moments, and for some of our hikers (given their state the night before) they were some tough moments. We made it down to Tina’s though, grabbed a snack and some fluids and then made our way down to the “Middle Gorge”. Some people stop at Tina’s and grab the bus back to the bridge and back to Lijiang, but we wanted to keep going.
Now, there are two paths to take down to the Gorge, there is the “safe” path and the ladder path. As per the advice of the “gate keeper” (there’s no gate, but she’s the local woman whose family created and maintains the first half of the path and so you can’t get by without paying her 10 RMB), we went down the safe path and would circle around and come up the ladder path. The safe path was steep and along the way you’d see these make-shift stretchers which weren’t convincing. At least I think they were make-shift stretchers. They were basically legless wicker chairs strapped to two long pieces of wood. The daunting trip down was totally worth it though. The view of the Gorge from the path was slightly blocked by trees, and once you came out into the clearing and onto the little bridge the rush of water and high cliffs takes your breath away. There is so much water forcing its way through that Gorge that you can’t help but feel a surge of energy. It’s actually a little intense, it’s very loud, and at the same time, it’s extremely calming and peaceful. I actually video-taped a full two minutes of the gushing water (which you’ll have to wait and see until we get home). When we first got there, we were all sort of running around taking pictures and climbing rocks, until at one point, I looked around and everyone was just sitting, somewhere, watching and listening. That place was amazing. You could stare at the thundering water forever. There was so much force there, I’m glad they decided to cancel the contract to damn it up, but who knows how long that’s going to last.
Hesitantly, we pulled ourselves away from this wonder of nature and headed up to the “Sky Ladder path”. Along with stretchers, there’s also a sign at the foot of this path which says that the path is dangerous, to be careful, and that those who successfully climb this path are said to be lucky. There’s also a woman, selling water, red bull and other fluids who was stationed at a cross roads where the ladder and the safe path intersect. Her way of expressing the two different paths was priceless. Body language is highly effective, and quite amusing. She pointed to the safe path and exclaimed “hao” (good) and then pointed to the ladder path, motioning a ladder and then clutching her body and shaking as though she were cold but then making the shuddering sounds you might associate with fright. She then proceeded to point and wave her hands at the ladder path while frowning, then pointing to the “safe” path and smiling. We decided to take our chances. Bring it on! It was an intense climb. The first ladder was quite long and literally ventured straight up the side of the mountain. There used to be an old wooden ladder, which they’ve left there but reinforced with re-bar, and a rebar cage (who are they kidding though, that’s not going to stop you if you fall). I’d like to tell you how high it went, but you couldn’t see all the way to the end from either the top or the bottom, and at no point was I dumb enough to look down while actually climbing the thing. Each and every one of our hearts was pounding when we got to the top. The second ladder wasn’t quite as steep, and once you’ve climbed the first the second one feels like a breeze. I’m actually glad we took the woman’s advice and went down the other way and up the ladders, because it would’ve been terrifying climbing down those things. That wasn’t the end of it though. While the fear of dangling from a few sticks of rebar may have passed (sorry Mom, we’re being safe, I promise), there was still an intense climb ahead. We were all sweating and breathing heavy—even for Claudia who’s only been retired for a year and is still quite active. It was steep, and it was hard, but it felt amazing. There’s another guesthouse at the tope of the trail and as our head peaked over the steps we rejoiced! I think we were all pretty proud of ourselves. As the other half of our group (the smoking half—sorry to out you guys ;)) got to the top of the stairs, we were all gathered to applaud and congratulate. It was a fantastic two days, and a tough two days, but it was amazing.
To spend two days, out in the middle of the mountains, away from the swarms of people who seem to be ALMOST everywhere, was a breath of fresh air… literally actually. You see, if it’s difficult, if they can’t do it in a pair of high heels, the Chinese wont. There were maybe six Chinese people we saw on the whole hike, and they were the exceptions, in their rain gear and hiking boots. Harold, we know you did the hike, you know how beautiful it is. We loved it and it would recommend it to anyone who heads out this way. I think part of the amazing thing was just to be really moving again, to break a sweat and not because of the heat. We do walk a lot, but most of the mountains/adventurous excursions we take-on have nicely paved paths of wooden walkways. It’s only since we’ve been in Yunnan that we’ve been able to head out onto a mountain and actually go for a real hike. It’s nice to feel that burn in your legs… even if it means that you smell really bad for two days because you didn’t pack anything but extra socks and underwear. (Deodorant couldn’t even mask the stink that Darren’s dry-fit decided to exude full force.) I think the Gorge is going on our list of favourites in China.
The bus back to Lijiang was long and bumpy and we were all pretty exhausted and hungry (we ran out of Snickers and refused to pay 10 RMB to buy more). With the construction and condition of the roads, apparently, only locals are allowed to drive on them, because only they are capable of “reading” the roads and responding effectively to anything that might go wrong (ie. rocks falling from above you, or the rocks/road falling out from underneath you). It was raining when we left and the mountain sides weren’t looking so stable. Luke said he saw one massive boulder being propped up by a stick no thicker than my arm (don’t worry Mom). We did get back eventually, and in one piece, and after showering off the stink and changing, we went into town for some hot pot. (Claudia hadn’t had hot pot yet and was leaving in a few days). As we were about to sit down, we ran into a Frenchman who we had also seen on the hike. (He had actually made friends with an elderly local man at the Halfway Guesthouse and they got into quite the conversation. Though neither of them could understand each other, body language did the trick; however, the interpretations might have been a little off. The bit about hunting bears and lions across the Gorge was accurate, but apparently the Frenchman’s interpretation of the Chinese guy hiding up in the mountains and hunting Japanese was a little less accurate. An American/Chinese traveller had a hard time understanding the man because of the dialects, but assured the Frenchman that he was talking about installing the cables and wiring up in the mountains, not hunting Japanese. I like the Frenchman’s story better and so did he.) Anyway, hot pot was delicious, and in the way it should be done, we spent the night exchanging travel stories and filling our tummies. I don’t think we could’ve ended our adventure with our new friends any better than that.
Darren and I were unable to get a train directly to Kunming for another two-three days, and because we weren’t all that fond of Lijiang to begin with, we were easily persuaded (by ourselves) to take the bus back to Dali and head to Kunming via another bus. We arrived in Dali early in the evening, enjoyed some delicious dinner at Namaste (mmmm… samosas, vindaloo, butter naan, and chilli paneer) and just took the night off to rest (at the Sleepy Fish Lodge again, we love it there). It was the next morning that we got in touch with family and updated on everything that was going on at home, and so spent that day with our own thoughts. I’m glad we were in a familiar city, in warm and welcoming accommodations. I would’ve hated to be in the city that day. Our second trip to Dali was a few days off from the outside world. Inside the walls of the Old Town you really can just shut off for a little while, which we did. Yesterday, we took another bus to Kunming, and we are currently on a train to Guilin.
As a side note, I have no book to read because “Mandarin Books” (in Kunming) is a rip off. I bought a used book from them (“The Time Traveller’s Wife”—which was amazing) for 65 RMB, which is expensive. They have signs everywhere that say that they buy used English books, and when I brought it back to trade in, they told me they’d give me 6 RMB—no, that’s not a typo, that’s a 6.0, six= just less than $1. I knew I wasn’t going to get a lot for it, but I figured at least 30 RMB or so… but no, they offered me 6 and wouldn’t budge. So, instead of giving it to them for 6 so they could sell it for 65 again, I kept it. I’d rather just give it away. At least I would save someone else from getting ripped off. I could also trade it in if I ever find a decent book exchange. Not wanting to give them any more of our business, I didn’t buy myself a new book. So a 20 hour train ride, no book, and only 3 hours of battery remaining on the lap top. Oh well! You win some you lose some… but we’ve got a pretty good idea of why they say “never do business with a Chinaman” (no offence anyone).
Once there, it’ll be about two weeks exploring Guilin, Yangshuo and the Dragon Backbone Terraces before we’re back in Hong Kong and leaving for Bali. Hope everyone is well, especially back in Prince George. We send you all our love and are thinking about you guys all the time. Sounds like you’re doing pretty well though. Tell Kong Kong we’ll bring back some Baijo for him too ;), and Frank and Joel, that BBQ looked DELICIOUS! Miss you all and it’ll be regards from Guilin next. (Mom, get Vinni to e-mail me Ayla’s number so I can call her on her birthday. I haven’t heard from you guys in a while and you’re never home when I call. Love you!)
PS- For those of you who haven't figured it out (ie. Erika), I've stopped posting pictures in the actual blogs because it takes too long, but there are links to albums and slideshows at the bottom of the page!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
The Last of Days in Dali
Our last couple days in Dali were fairly quiet compared to the first couple. With our friends off to the monastery to study Kung Fu for a couple days, Darren and I just laid low. Unfortunately, without hikes and bike rides to occupy us, we spent a vast amount of time walking around the Old City, which is beautiful and full of culture; however, it's also full of little markets and old Bai women trying to sell you anything from jewlery to "gonja" (am I spelling that right?).
There's this one old lady who's always sitting at the same place, who we pass constantly. It's gotten to the point where as soon as she makes eye contact with us, Darren says "wo bu yao" (I don't want). Hee hee. You have to admire her persistence however, because the other day she did manage to reel us in--for bracelets, not drugs. I stopped to look at one or two of the ones she had on the table, and next thing I know, she's pulled out an entire bag from somewhere inside her garments/coat, and had put ten onto my wrist... all ten, up my wrist. Darren joked that she see how many it would take to go all the way up my arm. We had a good time bargaining with her and got them for what we thought was a decent deal. (I find that with the old ladies, I'm not quite as ruthless in my bargaining... I find the whole process more amusing with them, and I find myself just doing it for fun, not even for the actual product.) However, just as I turned and was walking away, examining my buy, the ladies from the next table saw me; and, literally four of them chased me down the street offering me cheaper bracelets. I think with the first lady I paid 50 RMB for 10 bracelets, and these other women were offering me bracelets for 4 RMB a piece, and I'm sure I could've gotten them down to 2-3 RMB. When the one women wouldn't leave us alone, I did attempt to get them for 1 RMB each, and she laughed and walked away. It's always a fail safe method really... you just low ball the crap out of them, and they will either recognize their defeat, or you'll get a super good deal! (These aren't the same bracelets as the ones you got us Ruth. These ones are more like pendant/beaded bracelets.) Last night, while waiting for Darren who was perusing video games, I somehow found myself in a little street market (which we somehow completely bypassed until last night. Those who know me, know that whether I mean to or not, I always end up in a mall or market of some sort or another). Again, I found myself face to face with a little old Bai woman and this time, Ruth, I was buying the thicker "silver" bracelets (who knows what they're really made of, but I think they're half silver, or at least that's what the lady a few stalls down told me). I immediately browsed through and picked out ten (Ruth, I have three or four of the dragon/pheonix bracelets for you to choose from, and two of the zodiac ones as well), and so the bargaining process began. Again, I loose my edge with these old ladies in their blue hats and layers of colours and patterns (I need to take a picture of one of them), and it didn't help that she pointed out that her and I have the same mole on our chins--like long lost relations! I ended up buying 10 for 100 RMB, knowing that I gave in too easy; and of course, the lady from the next stall tried to offer me 14 for 100 RMB. I had to stiffen my lip with her and ended up buying 7 of the wider bracelets for 60 RMB. She wasn't too happy with me, amused I think, but a little disappointed that I wasn't as easy a target as she thought I would be. Of course, after that, I ended up buying earings at the next table, and only got away from the old Bai version of myself who was trying to bait me with silk handicrafts, because the shopping made me really hungry--"Chi fan. Chi fan. Xie xie, zai jian!" (Eat food. Eat food. Thank-you, good-bye!)
Jewellery aside, the owners of our hostel also gave us the address of where they buy their DVD's. Not sure if they're all decent quality, but that's the gamble you make for 8 RMB a piece (we bought 18 :S, including the entire Godfather collection on blu-ray--a little more expensive. Oooo- Leah, I bought Brightstar!). I Love Dali!
Other than shopping and eating numerous dumplings we did a bit of kayaking yesterday. I could totally go for another massage, my back is killing me. It wasn't the greatest day for it, but we managed well enough. We paddled across the lake to a temple and small village, which took us 45 minutes and just wandered for a while. It was supposed to be 20 RMB to get into the temple area, but no one was there to collect our money so that was a cheap little experience. There wasn't a lot to see on that part of the lake, and we were going to paddle across to the island where the "famous" people live, but as we got back down to where we had stowed the kayak, the wind had picked up and the waves weren't looking too friendly. Even getting off the shore-line was difficult. The locals construction workers who were rebuilding the road, gathered around to watch us attempt to launch the kayak. We always seem to be a source of amusement for the local people. I got in first because I was sitting in the front, and as Darren tried to get in, we weren't quite facing the waves properly, and as he was half in, a huge wave came and started to rock us a bit. I got soaked, but he bailed and was standing in waist high water while me and the kayak just waded a few feet away from him. Hee hee. Once we got going, the waves didn't seem to be getting any better, and with dark angry clouds looming over the mountains on the other side of the lake, we thought we'd throw in the towel and head back. Now, for anyone who knows anything about kayaking/canoeing/boating of any unpowered kind, you're supposed to avoid travelling parrallel to the waves as they can knock you over if they're big enough. So, even though where we wanted to go was directly across the lake from where we were, it would've required paddeling parrallel to the waves. So, we had to sort of zig zag our way back, against the waves and wind. It sucked and it was tough, but at the same time it was a blast. The only real downside of the trip, was that my knees are burnt, Darren's too. Never be fooled by the clouds, they may block out the sun but it's not the same as being in the shade, especially on water. So we both have strange red knees, but only on the insides since the outsides were slightly sheltered by the kayak. Once we docked and got soaked again, one of the locals (who the owners of our hostel rent their storage space from) cooked us lunch. It was delicious, and there was so much of it.
We love Dali, but it's off to Lijiang this afternoon. The whole visa situation is still up in the air. We have double entry visas, the first entry expiring in two and a half to three weeks. The debate is whether or not to apply for an extension, since we'll only need an extra week or so to finish up; however, when you apply for an extension, it seems they just cancel your current visa and issue you a new one, so we think we'd probably risk losing our second entry, and we would like to spend a couple days in Beijing before we fly home. So, we either rush through the next few locations and finish before our visas expire (not a favourable option), using our second entry (60 days) just to spend a few days in Beijing; or, we get the extension, take our time finishing China, and apply for another visa before going back to Beijing. I think the latter is what we'll likely do. I've also heard that there is something called a "bridge visa" for people stopping in mainland China on an international flight. We'll see. If we do apply for an exntension, it probably wont be until Guilin. So until then, it's Lijiang and the Tiger Leaping Gorge next. Hope all is well and we'll let you know how the Gorge goes!
There's this one old lady who's always sitting at the same place, who we pass constantly. It's gotten to the point where as soon as she makes eye contact with us, Darren says "wo bu yao" (I don't want). Hee hee. You have to admire her persistence however, because the other day she did manage to reel us in--for bracelets, not drugs. I stopped to look at one or two of the ones she had on the table, and next thing I know, she's pulled out an entire bag from somewhere inside her garments/coat, and had put ten onto my wrist... all ten, up my wrist. Darren joked that she see how many it would take to go all the way up my arm. We had a good time bargaining with her and got them for what we thought was a decent deal. (I find that with the old ladies, I'm not quite as ruthless in my bargaining... I find the whole process more amusing with them, and I find myself just doing it for fun, not even for the actual product.) However, just as I turned and was walking away, examining my buy, the ladies from the next table saw me; and, literally four of them chased me down the street offering me cheaper bracelets. I think with the first lady I paid 50 RMB for 10 bracelets, and these other women were offering me bracelets for 4 RMB a piece, and I'm sure I could've gotten them down to 2-3 RMB. When the one women wouldn't leave us alone, I did attempt to get them for 1 RMB each, and she laughed and walked away. It's always a fail safe method really... you just low ball the crap out of them, and they will either recognize their defeat, or you'll get a super good deal! (These aren't the same bracelets as the ones you got us Ruth. These ones are more like pendant/beaded bracelets.) Last night, while waiting for Darren who was perusing video games, I somehow found myself in a little street market (which we somehow completely bypassed until last night. Those who know me, know that whether I mean to or not, I always end up in a mall or market of some sort or another). Again, I found myself face to face with a little old Bai woman and this time, Ruth, I was buying the thicker "silver" bracelets (who knows what they're really made of, but I think they're half silver, or at least that's what the lady a few stalls down told me). I immediately browsed through and picked out ten (Ruth, I have three or four of the dragon/pheonix bracelets for you to choose from, and two of the zodiac ones as well), and so the bargaining process began. Again, I loose my edge with these old ladies in their blue hats and layers of colours and patterns (I need to take a picture of one of them), and it didn't help that she pointed out that her and I have the same mole on our chins--like long lost relations! I ended up buying 10 for 100 RMB, knowing that I gave in too easy; and of course, the lady from the next stall tried to offer me 14 for 100 RMB. I had to stiffen my lip with her and ended up buying 7 of the wider bracelets for 60 RMB. She wasn't too happy with me, amused I think, but a little disappointed that I wasn't as easy a target as she thought I would be. Of course, after that, I ended up buying earings at the next table, and only got away from the old Bai version of myself who was trying to bait me with silk handicrafts, because the shopping made me really hungry--"Chi fan. Chi fan. Xie xie, zai jian!" (Eat food. Eat food. Thank-you, good-bye!)
Jewellery aside, the owners of our hostel also gave us the address of where they buy their DVD's. Not sure if they're all decent quality, but that's the gamble you make for 8 RMB a piece (we bought 18 :S, including the entire Godfather collection on blu-ray--a little more expensive. Oooo- Leah, I bought Brightstar!). I Love Dali!
Other than shopping and eating numerous dumplings we did a bit of kayaking yesterday. I could totally go for another massage, my back is killing me. It wasn't the greatest day for it, but we managed well enough. We paddled across the lake to a temple and small village, which took us 45 minutes and just wandered for a while. It was supposed to be 20 RMB to get into the temple area, but no one was there to collect our money so that was a cheap little experience. There wasn't a lot to see on that part of the lake, and we were going to paddle across to the island where the "famous" people live, but as we got back down to where we had stowed the kayak, the wind had picked up and the waves weren't looking too friendly. Even getting off the shore-line was difficult. The locals construction workers who were rebuilding the road, gathered around to watch us attempt to launch the kayak. We always seem to be a source of amusement for the local people. I got in first because I was sitting in the front, and as Darren tried to get in, we weren't quite facing the waves properly, and as he was half in, a huge wave came and started to rock us a bit. I got soaked, but he bailed and was standing in waist high water while me and the kayak just waded a few feet away from him. Hee hee. Once we got going, the waves didn't seem to be getting any better, and with dark angry clouds looming over the mountains on the other side of the lake, we thought we'd throw in the towel and head back. Now, for anyone who knows anything about kayaking/canoeing/boating of any unpowered kind, you're supposed to avoid travelling parrallel to the waves as they can knock you over if they're big enough. So, even though where we wanted to go was directly across the lake from where we were, it would've required paddeling parrallel to the waves. So, we had to sort of zig zag our way back, against the waves and wind. It sucked and it was tough, but at the same time it was a blast. The only real downside of the trip, was that my knees are burnt, Darren's too. Never be fooled by the clouds, they may block out the sun but it's not the same as being in the shade, especially on water. So we both have strange red knees, but only on the insides since the outsides were slightly sheltered by the kayak. Once we docked and got soaked again, one of the locals (who the owners of our hostel rent their storage space from) cooked us lunch. It was delicious, and there was so much of it.
We love Dali, but it's off to Lijiang this afternoon. The whole visa situation is still up in the air. We have double entry visas, the first entry expiring in two and a half to three weeks. The debate is whether or not to apply for an extension, since we'll only need an extra week or so to finish up; however, when you apply for an extension, it seems they just cancel your current visa and issue you a new one, so we think we'd probably risk losing our second entry, and we would like to spend a couple days in Beijing before we fly home. So, we either rush through the next few locations and finish before our visas expire (not a favourable option), using our second entry (60 days) just to spend a few days in Beijing; or, we get the extension, take our time finishing China, and apply for another visa before going back to Beijing. I think the latter is what we'll likely do. I've also heard that there is something called a "bridge visa" for people stopping in mainland China on an international flight. We'll see. If we do apply for an exntension, it probably wont be until Guilin. So until then, it's Lijiang and the Tiger Leaping Gorge next. Hope all is well and we'll let you know how the Gorge goes!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Dali: A Home Away From Home
We’ve only been in Dali for two-three days now, but we love it. We’ve loved it since the day we got here. (I think a large part of how we feel about a new place depends on where we come from, and Kunming doesn’t set high standards; though I’m pretty sure we’d love Dali no matter where we came from.) We are staying at this incredible and cozy little hostel called the Sleepy Fish. It’s only a year old—recently opened compared to a lot of others in Dali. The owners are two wonderful ladies, an American woman and an English woman. The hostel is located not far from the east gate of the Ancient City, and because the ancient city is only 1.8 km by 1.8 km, no matter where you are you’re within walking distance of everywhere. The best part of it though, is that we’re sort of opposite the main areas (Boai Lu, Foreigner Street and Renmin Lu), so we get all the convenience without the noise. Our hostel also has reasonably priced, excellent Western breakfasts. Let me point out that Western breakfasts always (no matter where you go) are at least four times the price of a Chinese breakfast (street food); but, of all the luxuries of home, there’s nothing like starting a busy day of sightseeing or an active day of hiking with a solid breakfast of eggs and coffee. Usually, two slimy eggs, bland white toast and coffee will cost somewhere around 30 RMB. Here at the Sleepy Fish, you choose two of the following: 2 eggs, whole wheat toast, oatmeal (with hot milk and honey), yoghurt, French toast (made with whole wheat bread, with either syrup or honey) or pancakes, for 16 RMB, which also includes either coffee (made from espresso) or tea. I’ve had everything except the pancakes, and it’s excellent! You can’t find whole wheat bread/toast anywhere so it’s a real treat! I also have it on solid authority (from Max, one of the owners) that the pancakes are real pancakes (not the gross yellow ones you get at other establishments), which I intend to test out tomorrow. Also, the honey they normally serve here is from a hive up on the mountain, but unfortunately, because of the 8 month drought, there are no bees on the mountain at the moment. Ooo… and, they also have granola bars here. That’s another thing we’ve missed, is a hearty, healthy granola bar to snack on. All we end up with are bananas and some sort of cakey-like bread. All in all, we love it here!
Okay, so, it may not sound like we’re having the most authentic Chinese experience at the moment, but I think that’s part of why we love Dali so much. The ancient city is still traditional enough that you can watch the old Bai women and villagers going about their day to day lives (mind you, one of the day to day activities of the old ladies also includes going up to foreigners and asking “Smokey smokey gonja? Just looky!), while still being able to find the comforts of home when you want them. For example, our hostel and breakfast aside, they have a at least four or five Western bakeries, which means chocolate chip cookies. You can’t find chocolate chip cookies in the normal Chinese bakeries, and on a rainy night, you really start to crave them—the chocolate chip cookies at Sweet Tooth are wonderful! We’ve also had excellent brownies, real apple crumble and some of the best Indian food we’ve ever tried, with plans to have what are supposed to be excellent mango milk shakes, sweets from the newly opened French patisserie across the lake, and real cheese (edam, gouda, etc). At the same time, there’s always excellent and cheap kabobs, breads, and my all time favourite pancake thingies, to be had around just about every corner.
Believe it or not, there are other things to do in Dali. The ancient city is very nicely positioned with Er Hai Lake on one side, and the Green Mountains on the other. The first night we arrived in the ancient city, we happened to stumble upon some of our Israeli friends whom we met earlier on in Suzhou, and spent the next two days with them. The first day we went hiking up the Green Mountain. Usually, this involves paying 30-40 RMB to take the cable car up and another 40 RMB or so to enter the scenic route. However, a little birdie told us about a way to climb one of the various paths us the mountain, and get passed a small barbwire road block, and enjoy the closed off trail free of tourists, before coming back down right before the ticketed area. In total, we walked up the mountain and along the “Travelling/Wandering Cloud” path for just over 20 km. It was a beautiful hike—a real hike, through the bushes, on eroded dirt trails and all—with break-taking views and peaceful, tourist free surroundings. Compliments of our Israeli friends, we made a little pit stop at a little shelter near the creek and rested with a hot cup of coffee. Thank goodness for it too because the hike was longer than we expected and didn’t really pack a lunch. I don’t think we would’ve made it down in such good spirits without the extra kick. You can always rely on Avi and Gal to have a constant supply of coffee. They bought themselves a little propane burner and travel mug set and take it with them everywhere. They’re handy to have around for sure. As we started approaching the way down, we could hear thunder behind us, and at one point you could even see the rain coming down hard at the other end of the lake. We kept an eye on it and it was catching up to us quite quickly. We debated whether to wait it out under a shelter or to try to beat it down. People were starving, and we opted to try to beat it down the mountain (another hour at least), and we failed. We got pissed on, but it was awesome! The earth around here is a rich red colour and when it’s wet it turns into a type of clay. We were drenched (even with raincoats) and were sliding all over the place. One of the girls, Dana, was wearing sandals and she was in particularly rough shape, and we were all fairly muddy! We basically ran down (which doesn’t help traction much) and it was a bit of a rush. Rain and shine, it was a great hike and a great way to spend the day. We headed into the city, grabbed a little lunch, showered up and met again later that evening for a little R&R. Now, the definition of R&R varies respectively. For Avi and I, R&R was a pub crawl, but instead of pubs, it was desert—brownies, chocolate chip cookies, vanilla rice cake, and home-made-on-the-spot apple crumble with ice cream; for Darren, Gal and Grace (a girl from England) it was an hour massage at one of the many parlours. It was perfect!
The next morning, because we had been bragging so much about our home-made, whole wheat bread and cheap breakfasts, everyone walked over to our hostel to come eat. From there we rented bikes and attempted to ride to the patisserie. We thought a scenic route would be better than taking the highway, and while it was an adventure, it was also a few hours riding in circles. We rode through rice paddies and corn fields, all the way to a pier or a dock, only to be turned around and heading down a rather bumpy (hard on the sit-bones) path, reach a dead end and have to turn around. We wound through the various fishing/farming villages, which was nice, but ultimately led us right back to where we started. Determined to get to this one village in particular (Grace was pretty set on going for a swim), we headed back to the highway to make our way (it was already pretty late by then). We rode for a while and stopped for a little rest and some lunch. Hmmm… lunch.
With all the great food around, we stopped at a little road side restaurant, and Darren did the honours of ordering. (Eating with a full vegetarian, partial vegetarian, and a semi-kosher Israeli always makes the ordering process difficult). To make the story short however, we ordered half a chicken (which they butchered right there and then), which was cut up into pieces and cooked—head, feet, neck and all—which was also primarily bones. As Darren was ordering, he watched her write down the dishes and price them, the chicken was priced at 38 RMB, an average price. When we asked for the bill (barely eating any of the chicken because of all the bones) it was 200+ RMB. Apparently, the chicken was 38 RMB per kilo, at 4.5 kilos. First of all, she didn’t explain this to Darren when he was asking how much it was (which she says was because of the language barrier, but seemed to explain quite clearly once it came time to pay); secondly, there was no way in hell there was 4.5 kilos of chicken, even with the bones; and thirdly, you can buy a whole live chicken for 40 RMB a block away. This lady had a battle on her hands. We were arguing, drawing pictures of chickens, writing down numbers, crossing out numbers, exclaiming “Bu xing! Bu xing!” (Not acceptable! Not acceptable), and getting people on the phone to translate, only to be informed that she wasn’t going to let us leave for less than 190 RMB. Unfortunately, in the great scheme of things, the rules of business and ethics we’re used to at home don’t apply in China, and the extra money wasn’t worth risking trouble with the police (especially since, with the Chinese police, we would basically have no rights). So, Darren managed to settle the whole meal at 170 RMB, and we all got back on our bikes, slightly perturbed, and kept riding.
After getting a little more lost, and stopping to ask for directions at every crossroads, we finally found a guy who took us all the way into the village and to a outlet right on the water. It was absolutely beautiful. Unfortunately, we took so long getting there that e only had ten minutes before they closed the gate. Grace didn’t miss the opportunity to get in for a swim, and the locals didn’t miss their opportunity to gawk and holler at the white girl in a bikini. Poor thing didn’t think twice about it and was a little nervous getting out of the water. But we took our pictures, packed up, and stopped at a pretty little place outside the gate, where all the farmers graze their dairy cows, and of course, had a nice cup of coffee before we rode back. Again, without that coffee I don’t think we would’ve made it back alive! We booked it on the highway, again trying to beat some ominous clouds coming over the mountains, and just hungry and tired and ready to shower and be comfortable. We managed to get back in an hour and a half, getting us back to our hostel around 8 pm (the World Cup game started at 10), and the ride back couldn’t have been more exhausting. We were all so tired, and so dirty (the trucks on the highway spew black clouds of exhaust to choke your lungs). Needless to say, all of our butts were sore from the hard seats, and it was a night of a little more R&R. This time, the guys and Dana headed off to watch the World Cup, and Grace and I went for a massage. We walked around bargaining prices with the various parlours, and finally found one that would give as an hour massage (half shoulders and back, half feet) for 40 RMB (less than $10). Our masseuses were two boys, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, but they were strong and their elbows were pointy. It was a bit painful at parts, with them digging their thumbs into all the right/wrong places, but it felt incredible! My shoulders this morning are killing me, but it’s like the feeling of sore but loose muscles after a good workout. We finished off the night by buying one of the bakeries out of brownies, and watching the last ten minutes of the game.
Today, we were going to go to the monastery to do a little Kung Fu, but it was 300 RMB, and only worth doing if you stay for a few days. So instead, we’re doing nothing. I’m catching up on some blogging (obviously), Darren’s reading, and later we’re just going to wander around the city and take it easy. Tomorrow, it’s back to active enjoyment with a little kayaking, so today we’re going to enjoy our rest. Hope you’re all well, and congratulations to all of you graduating today/yesterday. I was thinking about you as I was biking around the lake and a little sad that I couldn’t be there with you. I hope it was a wonderful day (I heard it was sunny), and you/we should all be proud of our four year (for some longer, and for others shorter) accomplishment! Can’t wait to see what wonderful things everyone goes onto, and maybe I’ll see some of you in the teaching program in January (keeping my fingers crossed). Congrats again and we’ll have a belated celebration when I come home in four to five months!
Okay, so, it may not sound like we’re having the most authentic Chinese experience at the moment, but I think that’s part of why we love Dali so much. The ancient city is still traditional enough that you can watch the old Bai women and villagers going about their day to day lives (mind you, one of the day to day activities of the old ladies also includes going up to foreigners and asking “Smokey smokey gonja? Just looky!), while still being able to find the comforts of home when you want them. For example, our hostel and breakfast aside, they have a at least four or five Western bakeries, which means chocolate chip cookies. You can’t find chocolate chip cookies in the normal Chinese bakeries, and on a rainy night, you really start to crave them—the chocolate chip cookies at Sweet Tooth are wonderful! We’ve also had excellent brownies, real apple crumble and some of the best Indian food we’ve ever tried, with plans to have what are supposed to be excellent mango milk shakes, sweets from the newly opened French patisserie across the lake, and real cheese (edam, gouda, etc). At the same time, there’s always excellent and cheap kabobs, breads, and my all time favourite pancake thingies, to be had around just about every corner.
Believe it or not, there are other things to do in Dali. The ancient city is very nicely positioned with Er Hai Lake on one side, and the Green Mountains on the other. The first night we arrived in the ancient city, we happened to stumble upon some of our Israeli friends whom we met earlier on in Suzhou, and spent the next two days with them. The first day we went hiking up the Green Mountain. Usually, this involves paying 30-40 RMB to take the cable car up and another 40 RMB or so to enter the scenic route. However, a little birdie told us about a way to climb one of the various paths us the mountain, and get passed a small barbwire road block, and enjoy the closed off trail free of tourists, before coming back down right before the ticketed area. In total, we walked up the mountain and along the “Travelling/Wandering Cloud” path for just over 20 km. It was a beautiful hike—a real hike, through the bushes, on eroded dirt trails and all—with break-taking views and peaceful, tourist free surroundings. Compliments of our Israeli friends, we made a little pit stop at a little shelter near the creek and rested with a hot cup of coffee. Thank goodness for it too because the hike was longer than we expected and didn’t really pack a lunch. I don’t think we would’ve made it down in such good spirits without the extra kick. You can always rely on Avi and Gal to have a constant supply of coffee. They bought themselves a little propane burner and travel mug set and take it with them everywhere. They’re handy to have around for sure. As we started approaching the way down, we could hear thunder behind us, and at one point you could even see the rain coming down hard at the other end of the lake. We kept an eye on it and it was catching up to us quite quickly. We debated whether to wait it out under a shelter or to try to beat it down. People were starving, and we opted to try to beat it down the mountain (another hour at least), and we failed. We got pissed on, but it was awesome! The earth around here is a rich red colour and when it’s wet it turns into a type of clay. We were drenched (even with raincoats) and were sliding all over the place. One of the girls, Dana, was wearing sandals and she was in particularly rough shape, and we were all fairly muddy! We basically ran down (which doesn’t help traction much) and it was a bit of a rush. Rain and shine, it was a great hike and a great way to spend the day. We headed into the city, grabbed a little lunch, showered up and met again later that evening for a little R&R. Now, the definition of R&R varies respectively. For Avi and I, R&R was a pub crawl, but instead of pubs, it was desert—brownies, chocolate chip cookies, vanilla rice cake, and home-made-on-the-spot apple crumble with ice cream; for Darren, Gal and Grace (a girl from England) it was an hour massage at one of the many parlours. It was perfect!
The next morning, because we had been bragging so much about our home-made, whole wheat bread and cheap breakfasts, everyone walked over to our hostel to come eat. From there we rented bikes and attempted to ride to the patisserie. We thought a scenic route would be better than taking the highway, and while it was an adventure, it was also a few hours riding in circles. We rode through rice paddies and corn fields, all the way to a pier or a dock, only to be turned around and heading down a rather bumpy (hard on the sit-bones) path, reach a dead end and have to turn around. We wound through the various fishing/farming villages, which was nice, but ultimately led us right back to where we started. Determined to get to this one village in particular (Grace was pretty set on going for a swim), we headed back to the highway to make our way (it was already pretty late by then). We rode for a while and stopped for a little rest and some lunch. Hmmm… lunch.
With all the great food around, we stopped at a little road side restaurant, and Darren did the honours of ordering. (Eating with a full vegetarian, partial vegetarian, and a semi-kosher Israeli always makes the ordering process difficult). To make the story short however, we ordered half a chicken (which they butchered right there and then), which was cut up into pieces and cooked—head, feet, neck and all—which was also primarily bones. As Darren was ordering, he watched her write down the dishes and price them, the chicken was priced at 38 RMB, an average price. When we asked for the bill (barely eating any of the chicken because of all the bones) it was 200+ RMB. Apparently, the chicken was 38 RMB per kilo, at 4.5 kilos. First of all, she didn’t explain this to Darren when he was asking how much it was (which she says was because of the language barrier, but seemed to explain quite clearly once it came time to pay); secondly, there was no way in hell there was 4.5 kilos of chicken, even with the bones; and thirdly, you can buy a whole live chicken for 40 RMB a block away. This lady had a battle on her hands. We were arguing, drawing pictures of chickens, writing down numbers, crossing out numbers, exclaiming “Bu xing! Bu xing!” (Not acceptable! Not acceptable), and getting people on the phone to translate, only to be informed that she wasn’t going to let us leave for less than 190 RMB. Unfortunately, in the great scheme of things, the rules of business and ethics we’re used to at home don’t apply in China, and the extra money wasn’t worth risking trouble with the police (especially since, with the Chinese police, we would basically have no rights). So, Darren managed to settle the whole meal at 170 RMB, and we all got back on our bikes, slightly perturbed, and kept riding.
After getting a little more lost, and stopping to ask for directions at every crossroads, we finally found a guy who took us all the way into the village and to a outlet right on the water. It was absolutely beautiful. Unfortunately, we took so long getting there that e only had ten minutes before they closed the gate. Grace didn’t miss the opportunity to get in for a swim, and the locals didn’t miss their opportunity to gawk and holler at the white girl in a bikini. Poor thing didn’t think twice about it and was a little nervous getting out of the water. But we took our pictures, packed up, and stopped at a pretty little place outside the gate, where all the farmers graze their dairy cows, and of course, had a nice cup of coffee before we rode back. Again, without that coffee I don’t think we would’ve made it back alive! We booked it on the highway, again trying to beat some ominous clouds coming over the mountains, and just hungry and tired and ready to shower and be comfortable. We managed to get back in an hour and a half, getting us back to our hostel around 8 pm (the World Cup game started at 10), and the ride back couldn’t have been more exhausting. We were all so tired, and so dirty (the trucks on the highway spew black clouds of exhaust to choke your lungs). Needless to say, all of our butts were sore from the hard seats, and it was a night of a little more R&R. This time, the guys and Dana headed off to watch the World Cup, and Grace and I went for a massage. We walked around bargaining prices with the various parlours, and finally found one that would give as an hour massage (half shoulders and back, half feet) for 40 RMB (less than $10). Our masseuses were two boys, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, but they were strong and their elbows were pointy. It was a bit painful at parts, with them digging their thumbs into all the right/wrong places, but it felt incredible! My shoulders this morning are killing me, but it’s like the feeling of sore but loose muscles after a good workout. We finished off the night by buying one of the bakeries out of brownies, and watching the last ten minutes of the game.
Today, we were going to go to the monastery to do a little Kung Fu, but it was 300 RMB, and only worth doing if you stay for a few days. So instead, we’re doing nothing. I’m catching up on some blogging (obviously), Darren’s reading, and later we’re just going to wander around the city and take it easy. Tomorrow, it’s back to active enjoyment with a little kayaking, so today we’re going to enjoy our rest. Hope you’re all well, and congratulations to all of you graduating today/yesterday. I was thinking about you as I was biking around the lake and a little sad that I couldn’t be there with you. I hope it was a wonderful day (I heard it was sunny), and you/we should all be proud of our four year (for some longer, and for others shorter) accomplishment! Can’t wait to see what wonderful things everyone goes onto, and maybe I’ll see some of you in the teaching program in January (keeping my fingers crossed). Congrats again and we’ll have a belated celebration when I come home in four to five months!
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