After leaving the raft behind, we hiked maybe a mile down a thin road to the village of XingPing where we’d catch another bus to take us the remaining distance to Yangsuo, a popular tourist town. As we walked along the road, I marveled and gawked at the scenery and setting around me. It felt like stepping back in time one century…except for one thing: the cell phones. You cannot escape the cell phones. I’ll have to write a post on this in the future and collect some supporting photos on this topic – how the Chinese love their cell phones.

XingPing:

The outskirts of XingPing looked like a movie set from an old Chinese Kung Fu movie. The only additional anachronisms (the cell phones are always present) were the items being sold, like pirated DVDs. In the central part of the town, near the bus station, the setting became more familiar. We hopped on a bus just as it was pulling out of town. Of course, there was no room again and we were packed in again. In addition to the driver, there’s someone who goes around collection money. There’s no tickets that are given out, you just give him your money (like 5 yuan, or 75 cents). I suppose he just memorizes who has paid. Of course, he wouldn’t forget me, the one “ghost” (or “gui lao”, a derogatory term for foreigners). I couldn’t see much again except for crouching down as best I could. At one point, I recall crouching down to get a view and saw an official basketball game in progress on a cement court right on the edge of the road with no seating for the crowd. In the background, there were more limestone towers. What a visual treat! Some minutes later, we pulled into Yangsuo. The assistant barked something at us in Chinese and motioned for those of us standing to crouch down low. Apparently, there were policemen around who would have fined the bus for accepting too many passengers. What a joke.

“West Street” in downtown Yangsuo.   Nice place:

Yangsuo – what a great town! It reminds me very much of places like Boulder or Vail – fun small towns that are loaded with shops, places to eat, bars, etc. There were plenty of foreigners here too, but I had little desire to speak to them for some reason, maybe it was just a general vibe I picked up on that I didn’t care for. Or maybe it was the pair of young American guys who were cussing loudly and walking around like roosters. Bah! We found a cheap hotel, ditched our stuff, and headed out to look around some more. We found a little bar where I ordered one of the most hideous cappuccinos of all time when a Chinese family came it. We ended up striking up a conversation with them, only a couple spoke reasonable English and I spoke my unreasonable Chinese with the others. It turned out that we’d spend a lot of time with this nice family for the rest of the trip.

We ended up going with them to an outdoor evening show featuring five hundred performers and lots of spotlights illuminating the towers in the distance. It was quite beautiful and the music really stuck with me. That reminds me, I need to try to hunt down a recording of some of these traditional songs from the region. Later that evening it rained hard for a long time and we ended up staying out very late waiting for the rain to stop (it didn’t), and eating a long leisurely dinner.

Ever had “Drunk Duck”?   I did have some snails later on.   Not too shabby.

Well, despite a lousy night sleep, I was excited to start the sight seeing. First thing was first though: trying to find a return ticket so we could get back to work on time. Because of the Spring Festival, only one-way tickets were being sold. The ticket counter was a zoo, though even more crowded and noisy situations were yet to come, and we waited in line for thirty minutes or so only to find that there were no more tickets to Shenzhen. Oh well, maybe we could fly! Well, we decided that we would find a travel agency in Yangshuo, our destination for this evening.

We walked down to the bus stop and caught a bus (we actually had a seat, the last time this would happen on the local busses) for the boat dock to the most scenic spot on the Lijian River. We had a boat guide waiting there for us. Many more people piled on the bus, even bringing little plastic stools to sit in the aisles. After a 20 minute ride, we were dropped off at the intersection where we’d catch another bus to a small village, whose name I don’t recall, where the dock was. Thank goodness for Michael’s language skills. This trip would have been 10 times as hard in broken Chinese.

Every bus that passed us was crowded. We tried bargaining with some motorcycle riders for passage but they wanted like 30 yuan, about $4.25. Though that was cheap, a bus would be about 75 cents. So we waited a bit. Every wierd for of transportation drove by including these rigged duct-tape contraptions meant to haul a few people but were often packed with 10 or more. Also, there were boat guide representatives who chased cars along trying to get business. I shot a short bit of video here. I hope everyone can see it (you’ll need Quicktime).

Check out this jalopy:

We finally found a bus to get on but we were the last to board so we stood the entire way. Being so tall, all I could see was the ground along the side of the road, but occassionally I would crouch down (as best I could…easier after a few people got off) and could see the mystical limestone towers with swirling mist around them. This was a different world. We arrived in the village where people were carrying live chickens by the wings directly to the chopping block on the side of the street, lopping off their heads or breaking their necks and then de-feathering them. There were creepy old ladies selling peanuts and oranges shouting “Hello Hello!” at me and whatever else in Chinese.

The village:

We walked down to the dock and caught a ferry to the other side of the river. For some bureaucratic reason, the reed rafts weren’t allowed to come to this dock. At last, we were on our way.

Stunning scenery. You’ve never seen anything like it before:

Of course, I was awestruck by the vegitated limestone towers. Each one reminded me of a miniature Johannesburg Mountain and I couldn’t help imagining what it might have been like for Michael (Stanton) and me to climb one of them…anything like J-Burg? To quote Michael (Stanton again), imagining the climb was “strangely enticing.”

We were supposed to have lunch at the boatman’s house, a little shack on the side of the river, but it was already crowded with people. The kitchen building was a small little house with two rooms: one for eating, one for cooking. The floors were dirt, but there was cable TV in the eating room. In the kitchen were two large black kettles, resembling woks, where the food was being prepared. We decided to move on and eat at a small restaurant down the river.

The restaurant, which was just a medium sized pavilion, had a similar feel – the chickens were being freshly prepared just outside. The food was excellent. My chopstick skills are getting pretty good. I’m not nearly as messy as I used to be. This was our first real meal since leaving Shenzhen and we both were sure to eat well.

(l-r) the restaurant and posing for a pic at the restaurant:

Back on the river, we cruised past some of the most scenic areas, the ones that you see all the photographs of. Speaking of which, I don’t recall ever seeing any photos of this area before. I don’t know why. Maybe because China was so inaccessible in the past? Hmmm, dunno, but I think it’s curious because some of the scenes are so otherworldly, you’d think at least that some movies would have been filmed here.

A while later we took a short break on the gravel shore where many tourists were congregating. There were people out selling junk, people selling the opportunity to have photos with them for 2 yuan (25 cents). One of them were these people carrying a balancing stick across their shoulders with two birds on either side attached by cord to the stick. Apparently, these are fishing birds and the people who use them put rings around their necks so that they cannot swallow their catches. After the birds have caught enough though, the ring is removed and they’re allowed to feed.

(l-r) The gravel shore, fishing bird, a yak or some close relative:

The trip was now nearing an end. A few more stunning views and we were done. The boatman deposited us on the shore, we paid him the 20, I think, yuan ($2.50) and we started a short hike to the village of XingPing where we’d catch a bus to Yangshuo.

Some final views: