(5 - 15 February, 2005)
Easter Holiday:
Saturday 5/2/05
Our journey to Yangshuo began with our second trip on the ferry to Zhaoqing. Because it was Chinese New Year, we were paying a lot more for the same trip we had taken at Christmas. At least this time we knew there would be a free shuttle bus for the three-hour ride to Wuzhou.
As soon as we reached Wuzhou we headed for the bus station to book our tickets to Yangshuo, preferably on an overnight coach. We were told that we would have to go all the way to Guilin, then get transport back to Yangshuo. This sounded unlikely to me, and I was quite angry that the ticket-seller seemed to be saying that there was no direct bus. Surely we would not have to add another three hours to the seven-hour ride. We tried lining up at a different ticket window, and after some questioning it was revealed that this restriction only applied to the overnight bus, as it was felt that it was not safe for passengers to alight in Yangshuo at about 4:30 a.m., when it was still dark. Possibly this only applies in the winter months, as I have read internet reports by people who had taken a sleeper bus direct to Yangshuo.
The second ticket-seller advised us that there was indeed a direct bus leaving at 8 a.m. next day, and that she had two tickets left for it. We told her we would take them and I wanted to know if it was possible to book our return tickets as well. By the time we got the answer that it wasnˇ¦t, the two tickets had been sold at the next window. So what were we going to do? A little more questioning led to the revelation that there was yet another bus at 10 a.m. and there were plenty of tickets ˇV a much more convenient time to be leaving anyway, especially as the bus left from some remote station on the other side of the city. We were told we could get to this station by local bus No. 12, and to allow an hour to find our way there. "Isn't there a free shuttle bus?" I enquired, because our guide-book has mentioned such a thing. Yes, there was, she admitted, but we would never have been told if we hadn't asked. It's very hard to get the full picture here. People seem to want to keep information to themselves.
Of course, the bus cost Y120, instead of the usual Y70. We could see this was going to be a rather more expensive trip than our Christmas holiday. Fortunately the hotel across the road was only Y78 (shown on a sticker covering a Y68 price tag), but we were unable to book a room for our return on February 14, even by paying in advance. All they could tell us was that it would be a lot more expensive. We would just have to hope that we could find somewhere to stay when we got back. There were signs on the lift suggesting the presence of a Western Restaurant, Chinese Restaurant, Coffee Shop, Hairdresser and Karaoke Bar on various floors, but on investigation these seemed to be purely imaginary. In any case, the sixth-floor room was quite decent and the staff were friendly and helpful.
We went back to the "Vegetarian" restaurant we had discovered on our last visit to Wuzhou, but it was rather disappointing apart from an excellent steamed fish. They didn't actually have any fish on the premises but they sent someone out to buy one from the market. It was very fresh, with a lot of flesh, and not too bony. But the pork and yam was not up to the standard we had come to expect from this restaurant, some of the taro being burnt black and quite inedible, and a noodle dish they suggested turned out to be a boring soup with commercial noodles, redeemed only by the presence of fresh mushrooms. Maybe their chef had gone home to his family for the New Year, but, whatever the reason, they've lost our custom. We decided it wasn't worth the long walk to this place if their standards could deteriorate so much.
The shuttle bus next morning got us to the remote bus station very early as we played it safe and caught the 8 a.m. one, rather than 9 a.m. It took only half an hour. They had warned us to allow an hour, but that was when they assumed we would be making our way by public transport ˇV before admitting there was a shuttle.
We had expected stalls selling breakfast, but there didn't seem to be much apart from instant cup noodles. We eventually found a stall selling tea eggs and rice packets with a bit of fish and meat on top. Anything rather than instant noodles!
The bus stopped around midday at a stall where we got some bean-curd snacks and other odds and ends for lunch. Then about an hour and a half later the bus stopped at a restaurant and we found that a quite good lunch was actually provided. As I said, nobody gives you the whole picture. I suppose we should have asked, but weˇ¦ve never experienced a free lunch on any other bus trip in China.
We were dropped off in Yangshuo and had no idea where we were. We tried asking the way to West Street and were directed to various little hotels that were clearly not what we were looking for. Of course if we'd used the Chinese name for it, the locals would have been more likely to know what we were talking about, but we did say we wanted the street where all the foreigners stayed.
We eventually got to West Street, quite far from where we had been dropped off and began the search for a place to stay. We wanted something decent as we would be there for eight days. We found one place we quite liked, which had a double and a single bed, useful for leaving clothes on, as well as a balcony with a good view. We could have it for Y65 for the first three nights, but after that it would be Y150. We decided to look around some more, but other places were quoting up to Y300 for the New Year period. We were about to go back to the first place, but thought we would check one more ˇV Lisa' s Hotel. We were shown a room with a view of a brick wall. No good. If we wanted a view, we would have to go to the fifth floor. So, we duly trudged up five flights of stairs to the top floor. How much? Y100. All rooms were Y100. But it was too many stairs, and the bathroom was mouldy. We were about to go back to the original guest house when the boy showing us around asked us to see one more. It was a nice enough room on the second floor, much better than the other two. They had followed the standard practice of trying to fill the worst rooms first and keeping the best until last. We thought it was still not as good as the earlier room, but we were quoted Y800 for eight nights. This was the only place that didn't put up its prices for New Year. Actually they had already put it up as these rooms normally went for about Y50. But it had heating, television (including China's English channel) and hot water (both for drinking and for showering) so we took it. At first Yoong was regretting that we hadn't taken the other place, but when we actually looked out the window the next day, we found that the view from this room was just as good, overlooking both West Street and some limestone hills beyond the rooftops. And Lisa's was really a much livelier place, with its cosy and warm restaurant below. It also has free internet, as is the norm in hotels and restaurants on West Street.
Lisa booked us a bus back to Wuzhou for Y120 each, though we noticed the price on the tickets was Y100, so she was adding a commission of 20%. At that time we did not know where we could buy tickets ourselves, and were anxious to ensure we could get back on time. We neednˇ¦t have worried as there were extra buses being organized for the New Year period, and we could have done it ourselves if we had waited to find out where things were.
West Street is a pedestrian only street, very much set up for tourists, mainly Western backpackers, but full of life and a lot of fun. It is easy enough to escape from it and enjoy the natural scenery, but it is a great place to walk around. There is music everywhere and lots of reasonably priced restaurants to choose from.
We ate at Drifters the first night and had a delicious oven-baked vegetarian pizza and an orange duck dish, which was not to Yoong's taste, but I thought was very good.
The next morning we tried the breakfast at Lisa's. Yoong had a Western set, good value as it came with coffee and orange juice and the bread was better than the usual sweet bread normally found in Asia. I had a generous serving of chicken curry with rice.
We then walked down to the river, where we met a young man who turned out to be very interesting. He was from Shanghai and we had very little language in common, but we gathered he was a writer, probably a journalist. He also claimed to be a singer, and, to demonstrate, he burst into song. He was totally uninhibited and sang at the top of his voice. He then did a Chinese version of Red River Valley, which I could join in by singing the English words. We then sang Alishan together, at least as far as I could remember the words.
We did a lot of walking around the town and, at night, tried the local delicacy, beer fish, at one of the specialist restaurants in the street parallel to West Street. It was very good, but a stuffed tofu dish we ordered had almost the same sauce, a bit disappointing even though it was delicious.
Our plan today was to take a bus to Yangdi and do the long walk along the Li River to Xingping. When we arrived at this small village a very aggressive woman attached herself to us, saying "Boata! Boata!" in a voice that implied we were obliged to go with her to hire a boat. We were only interested in getting a boat across the river where the walking trail began and tried to explain that we did not need her services. In any case, we were quite capable of finding our own way along the single road to the river. We did plan to do a boat ride along the river, but wanted to leave it until later in the trip.
We tried various tactics to get away from the woman but she stuck to us like a leech. On our way to the river we met up with a group of Chinese tourists who had organized a boat trip already, so we tried to act as members of their party. The woman continued to annoy us until Yoong got quite angry with her, but that made no difference to her determination to make some money out of us. The Chinese group came to our rescue and asked if we would like to join them on their boat ride. In theory this should benefit all parties as you pay by the boat rather than by the person. They seemed to be pleasant company so we abandoned our walking plans and accepted their invitation. This immediately resulted in a fiery dispute between the various parties involved. The woman apparently ordered the boatman not to accept us as his passengers. We were her property and no one was going to take us from her. So the boatman refused to let us on the boat, until some negotiations took place (which we could not follow) and it was agreed that he would be paid extra for including us. The arrangement was that we would pay an extra Y50, which was a good price for us and a lot extra for the boatman. Presumably the lady got her share of it as we didn't hear her rather irritating voice any longer.
We found that the group comprised three families from Shenzhen, originally from Chongqing. We had a big lunch with them, including a delicious steamed fish from the Li river, but they wouldn't let us anywhere near the bill. They were particularly keen for me to talk to a fifteen-year-old daughter who was studying English at school in Form 3. She was a very gentle girl, who washed all our teacups for us before the meal and served us our tea.
They had two four-wheel drive vehicles, which they had driven from Shenzhen to Guilin, where they were staying. They had planned to visit Yangshuo for the afternoon, so they drove us back. We showed them West Street and tried to invite them for drinks, but they declined. Yoong did manage to go up to our room and get a bag of mandarins and a box of local biscuits we had bought, so we were able to give them at least a token of our appreciation. At first they wouldn't take even these gifts, but Yoong wisely offered them to the oldest couple, wishing them a happy New Year, so they couldn't refuse. We took the obligatory photos of each other and left them to continue their outing.
It was a good thing that we changed our plans and did the boat trip, as we found out later that the track between Yangdi and Qingping was closed due to rock-falls, so tourists could no longer do the hike. Well, so we were told, but you never really know what to believe here.
After staying up late celebrating New Year's Eve we slept in this morning. We had a bit of a problem with the heater on the wall; the front of it fell off with a loud clatter, presumably because we had attached our clothesline to it and it couldn't support the weight of the clothes. Anyway, I managed to re-attach it, and after that it worked a lot better than it had before, so it turned out to be a lucky accident.
By the time we got moving it was time for an early lunch, so we headed for Seventh Heaven, the only place weˇ¦ve seen that advertises hummus and falafel with pita bread. It wasnˇ¦t bad, but the falafels were not quite falafels and the hummus wasn't quite hummus. We also had a set meal ˇV creamy tomato soup with croutons, curry chicken steak with chips and salad, orange juice and a fruit platter. They forgot the curry for the curry chicken and when we pointed this out the waitress was going to take the plate away. We stopped her and asked for the curry sauce in a separate bowl, just in case we decided it was better without the curry. They also forgot the fruit platter, though it eventually came after two reminders. As the first reminder had no effect, the second one included appropriate pointing at menu items until comprehension dawned. Anyway it was a nice enough meal.
We then made our way along New West Street, dodging the girls touting for restaurant business, to the bus station where we boarded a bus about to leave for Xingping. It was quite full so we had to sit on a wooden box near the driver, which at least gave us a good view through the front windscreen. The fact that the bus was full did not deter the driver from crawling along at a snail's pace, trying to pick up more passengers.
About halfway to Xingping an argument broke out between a woman and the conductress, apparently over a ticket that should have been bought for a child. It became more and more heated, with various family members and other passengers yelling and cursing, with much Cantonese vulgarity involving the malodorous private parts of each other's mothers. The driver stopped the bus and also got involved, presumably to back up his conductress. The bus rocked as the screaming match threatened to develop into a full-scale brawl. There were some foreigners from Canada at the back and one of them took a photo of the scene, which I would not dare to do as I thought it could result in a smashed camera. Eventually the warring parties were separated by passengers who just wanted to get wherever they were going and the bus took off, with the women looking daggers at each other until we reached Xingping. The trip took an hour, nearly twice as long as the less eventful return trip later in the day.
Today the weather has taken a turn for the worse. The rain that held off yesterday for us to enjoy our boat trip has returned and it is even colder. We have to wear at least four layers of clothing. When we arrived a local lady asked if we were from Lisa's, quite a surprise. How did she know? It turned out she was there to meet the two Canadian men, who were also staying at Lisa's. They had organized a boat trip, but it was not the nicest day for it. That's the problem with organizing things in advance. You can't really change your mind if the weather is against you.
Xingping is a fantastically beautiful town, surrounded by limestone hills. Backpackers have started to come here to avoid the hustle and bustle of Yangshuo, just as they used to go to Yangshuo to get away from Guilin. We walked around the harbour, trying to convince various ladies that we were not looking for a boat, postcards or tacky souvenirs. We then started the steep climb up Lau Zhao Shan, advertised as a thirty-minute walk with 1159 steps. Yoong wanted to give up a couple of times and when we were almost to the top, decided she couldnˇ¦t go any further, especially as the view was totally obscured by the mist. I left her in a shelter and did the rest of the climb myself, admittedly the most difficult part, including a ladder at one point. It took about ten minutes to get to the top and back to Yoong, and I persuaded her that it was worth doing the rest of the climb, as it was possible to see the river below. Now that she knew the end was not too far away, she agreed to continue and conceded that it was worth the effort. The view was quite dramatic and kept changing as the clouds drifted below and past us, sometimes obscuring the surrounding mountain peaks, sometimes the river below. We stayed for some time, watching the endless stream of tour boats heading from Guilin to Yangshuo. There was a young couple up the top as well so we eventually left to give them some privacy, after getting them to take a photo of us. I took another one of Yoong in front of the mountain when we got back down as a reminder of her achievement. After all the complaining about taking her on this "dangerous" and exhausting climb, she now sees this as the highlight of our holiday!
It was a very foggy and misty afternoon in Xing Ping. Dad was determined to scale the above mountain (Shan). I reached three quarters of the way. And as usual, I wanted to stop and give up. There were mists everywhere and if I did eventually reach the top I would not see anything anyway and that would be extra foolish to risk the very very steep climb. So I waited for Dad at a spot and he proceeded to the top. It took another 15 minutes.
I did not feel good not going to the top. While waiting for Dad I did some Tai Chi and thought it best to go to the top to overcome my incompletion of projects, which is one of my weaknesses. Even Freya's mother, a numerologist, told me that my number spells this out. When I finally reached the top I was very pleased with myself. Thankfully you guys did not inherit this weak trait.]
On our way back to the bus stop through the old town we came across a little noodle stall, which Yoong insisted on patronizing. It turned out to be a pleasant experience. We had two bowls of local dumplings, and the friendly old couple who ran the stall kept giving us odd things to try, such as young bamboo shoots and some kind of eggs that seemed to have been tied up and shaped into balls. It was all very interesting. Yoong had a kind of conversation with them but communication was difficult. This little meal was more memorable than a lot of the pseudo-western meals in Yangshuo at ten times the price, and we generally consider those to be quite good value.
The bus got us back to Yangshuo at about 6:30 and we still wanted a full meal so we went back to Drifters for a repeat of the vegetarian pizza. We also tried the vegetarian lasagne, which was not really lasagne, as it appeared to contain no pasta at all, but I quite liked it anyway.
West Street was very lively for the New Year, and lion dances were in progress. We took some photos when the lions came into the restaurant, but things were moving so fast that we don't know how they'll turn out.
Despite the bad weather, it was another enjoyable day in this wonderful part of China.
West Street is packed with people today, mainly Chinese taking advantage of Golden Travel Week. They've probably come to see the foreigners but they outnumber us by about ten to one. Our hotel is full. I overheard a backpacker being given the last bed in the dormitory. We can understand why prices go sky-high for this week. West Street is at its liveliest, with erhu players and sellers of sesame paste dessert, barbecued meat and, of course, tacky souvenirs.
We had a late start again today, with an excellent breakfast at our Lisa's restaurant ˇV grilled eggplant, steamed tofu and Sichuan chicken. The only glitch was that the waitress tried to charge us Y45 for the chicken, which was actually Y12, as we pointed out to her on the menu. Lisa herself was nearby and apologized, saying the girls didn't know the right prices. I suppose they were temporary staff for the New Year rush.
We were further delayed by the fact that the zipper on my only pair of trousers broke. So, pinned up rather precariously, I went with Yoong to the nearest clothing shop, which, being on West Street, was likely to be expensive, but also more likely to have something in a foreigner's size. After measuring my waist, the shopkeeper found me a pair of jeans that was obviously much too small for me. He assured me that it would fit, but changed his tune when I insisted on trying it on. He found a bigger pair, which looked much more promising. It fit perfectly, and we quickly knocked down his price of Y180 to Y100, good enough as I was really not in a position to bargain, and, after all, they were Armani. They even had the name spelt right!
At last we made it to the bus stop, where we got a mini-bus to Fuli. I practically had to crawl on my hands and knees to get to my seat. As we approached the exit to the bus station where the police were stationed, a few passengers got down and walked a couple of metres past the checkpoint. They then boarded the bus again in full view of the police. We heard from other travelers that they had experienced the same thing with the bigger buses as well. It appears that the overloading of buses is only illegal at the actual checkpoint. Before and after is okay.
When we arrived in Fuli, we promptly took off in the direction where we thought the river (and old town) would be. We followed some locals down a walking path which soon became a narrow muddy track across fields of vegetables. The river winds around so much that we didn't realize we were walking in the opposite direction. We were saved by a little old lady who not only pointed the way to the river but insisted on escorting us there to make sure we didn't get lost again. It turned out to be about half an hour's walk to the Li River. Yoong had trouble keeping up with the old lady, who clearly thought nothing of walking long distances. They were able to communicate a little, and Yoong reported that the woman was telling all her acquaintances along the way about us, proudly displaying the lost foreigners she had rescued. When we reached the old town we stopped to watch a dragon dance outside a newly-opened establishment of some sort. We knew our way by now, but the woman wouldn't hear of deserting us now and guided us the whole way. We knew we had almost reached the river, when we passed several souvenir stalls and shops selling paintings and the fans that this district is known for. The paintings, mostly of the limestone hills and the river, were very cheap and quite attractive, but we really have nowhere to put them. We have so many paintings rolled up and stored in the roof of our house in Melbourne.
The lady was genuinely being helpful and didn't want to accept any money, but we managed to give her some by insisting it was for the New Year. Yoong had already given her some hotel cosmetics, which she seemed very happy with.
We had wanted to try walking back to Yangshuo by following the trail on the other side of the river, but were warned by locals that the trail was muddy and it would be inadvisable. Their gestures illustrated feet disappearing deep into mud. Instead, we walked along the river and across some fields, enjoying the beautiful scenery of this village surrounded by karsts. As usual, Yoong insisted on sampling the local noodles before getting the bus home.
Back in West Street, we went to the DVD shop where we had already negotiated a price of Y7 per DVD, which so far had seemed to be the real price everywhere we had been in China. The difference here is that there is a huge range of titles. We ended up with 19 DVDs, including a number of foreign language films and classics like Citizen Kane. The shop assistants did not seem to mind us checking them all first, to ensure that the foreign films had English subtitles, that each DVD actually worked, and that the film on the disc really was the film described on the cover.
Dinner was at Stone Roses, a well-known establishment here. We ordered orange duck and a taro casserole dish, which was excellent. The only problem was that the rice did not arrive with the rest of the meal. After asking for it several times, we were told, apologetically, that their machine was not working. Somehow they eventually managed to come up with some rice and we did enjoy the meal, though we could have done without the light reflections from the revolving ball, which made the place feel like a disco.
After dinner, we joined the throngs outside and walked along the river trying not to get too close to the fireworks exploding all over the place.
Today was the first day we've had no rain at all, though it was still cold and we didn't see the sun. I skipped breakfast as my stomach was a bit upset. While I went for a walk, Yoong had a bowl of noodles with dumplings and beef balls at a little stall we had patronized a few days ago. The prices had gone up for New Year, but it was still very good value.
We had decided to walk to the Yu Long Bridge, taking the bike route along the Yu Long River. It took us about six hours. We stopped at some of the points where rafting trips began, but couldn't be persuaded to take a raft because we thought it would be too cold. We were offered a raft for Y50 for two. Strangely, another couple had so far not been able to get the price down past Y90 per person, perhaps because the raft providers knew that they really wanted to do it, whereas we were not keen. There were also some very aggressive fruit-sellers around, including a lady who got quite angry that we would not buy an over-priced pomello from her. She seemed to think that, because it was New Year, we were obliged to buy. We did actually purchase a bag of mandarins from another lady, on our way back from the river, for Y2 and then a second bag for Y1 as she said she wanted to go home. They were very fresh and we felt quite healthy eating them along the way.
The track wound through villages and the usual amazing scenery, but it was often very muddy. We met a number of cyclists on the way and were told at three half-hour intervals that the bridge was about twenty minutes away.
We eventually reached the four-hundred-year-old bridge, where we met up with an American lady, Margaret, who was living and teaching in Ping Yao and writing a book about the history of the town, where the first Chinese banking system was developed. She walked with us, wheeling her bike, from the bridge to Bao Sha where we would pick up a bus back to Yangshuo. While we were there we bought a bottle of the Osmanthus wine that the Shanghainese couple had introduced us to.
Back in Yangshuo, we met up again with Margaret, who was returning her bike before walking twenty-five minutes out of town to the place she was staying. We invited her to our hotel room for a cup of tea and nibbles.
Now we are showering and watching Chinese TV, which is actually very interesting. There is a good English channel, CCTV9, which we also get in Hong Kong, and there is always a lot of classical music, both Chinese and Western on other channels. We will eat at Lisa's tonight and sleep early as we are going to Guilin for the day tomorrow.
ˇKWell, just got back from dinner downstairs and regret to report that they have no idea how to make a pizza. Maybe they don't have the facilities that Drifters has. However, their pork and mushroom dish was excellent, and a mapo tofu that wasn't really what we expected was not too bad. As the whole meal was under A$7 we can't really complain, but it's a pity these restaurants don't just specialize in the dishes they do well instead of trying to include everything foreign customers might want and then disappointing them with an inadequate approximation. In general Lisa's is very good for Asian food. Western dishes are better elsewhere.
Soon after our arrival in Guilin, a young man attached himself to us, claiming to be an English teacher. His English was of a high enough standard to make this plausible. He offered to show us to a good local restaurant. The fact that it turned out to be in one of the main tourist streets, together with the fact that the waitress spoke good English should have told us something. It is a common trick of touts to recommend expensive tourist restaurants as a cheap local haunt. Last year in Morocco a little boy led to just such a place, which turned out to be an expensive "Palace Restaurant", which, however, did give us a memorable meal. Our experience in Guilin was rather similar. It was actually one of the best meals we have had on this trip ˇV a succulent "one-bone" steamed fish, good mapo tofu and an excellent pork dish with long mushrooms we had seen but never tried before.
Of course we asked our companion to join us, but he did not eat very much, saying he had already eaten and just wanted to drink tea with us. However, he did eat the head of the fish, which we didn't want, but which the Chinese regard as the best part.
After lunch he took us to what was left of the ancient city, which is where the university, from which he claimed to have graduated, is located. There was a Y50 entrance fee, but he persuaded us that this was the one attraction in Guilin that we should not miss. It turned out that the ticket included an English-speaking guide, who was quite informative. The tour included a museum, with a short dance performance and a cave where you could find your "sign", represented by paintings along the wall. It ended at a souvenir shop, where you were expected to buy an expensive trinket illustrating your birth sign. You could then take the trinket down to a "wishing cave" and make a wish. We resisted the considerable pressure to buy a sign, which would no doubt have provided commission to both our official guide and our English-teacher companion, and consequently were not allowed to do any wishing. However, we sneaked back after the guide dismissed us and went to have a look at the wishing cave on our own, as well as a few other areas we thought we had rushed through too quickly.
Our ticket also allowed us to climb the Solitary Beauty Peak, which had good views over Guilin. We then visited the Art Gallery with paintings by students. They were of very high quality, but also very expensive, aimed at the tour groups. Tang said he would take us to a private gallery that was much cheaper. He also said we would go to drink some special tea. It was looking more and more like our friend was looking for commission, but he did not seem pushy and was pleasant company. The gallery he took us to was certainly cheaper than the university one, but we were not interested in buying, and if we were, we had seen much cheaper paintings in Fuli.
We did not know what to expect with the tea-drinking. It turned out to be a souvenir shop with a section at the back where a man went through an elaborate tea ceremony and we tasted the local osmanthus tea, some real jasmine tea and vintage boleh tea. It was a long process and they used the trick of starting with very expensive tea so that the one he ended up with would seem cheap in comparison. We ended up buying a chunk of eight-year-old boleh for Y60, bargained down from Y100, but still a lot more than we would normally spend on tea. It,s supposed property of reducing cholesterol was probably the main inducement for Yoong to agree to buy it, but it does have a much nicer taste than the tea we normally drink in the hotel.
Our companion sounded us out about the possibility of taking us for a foot massage, but we had no interest in this. After having spent several hours with us, he told us he had to go back to his school for his dinner, which didnˇ¦t quite fit with his earlier statement that he didn't eat at school during the holidays. Presumably he went off to collect his commissions.
It took us a while to decide that he really was a tourist tout, as he did it very skillfully and subtly. He did not claim anything for guiding us around, and he deserved whatever commission he might have earned as he did make the day interesting and meaningful for us.
We did do some shopping in Guilin, apart from the tea. I bought a pair of trousers, and we bought another eleven DVDs, the cheapest we've seen yet, at Y5 each plus a free one for buying ten. This shopkeeper was not too happy that we insisted on checking them all, but we've learnt from experience that this is necessary.
We also discovered a huge underground shopping center, which seemed to extend for miles. We had some very tasty noodles and dumplings at a little stall there. Our friend, Tang, had not told us about this underground world. I suppose there are no commissions available there.
We left on the 8 p.m. bus, which we had booked in the morning, and still felt like eating when we got back to Yangshuo. We tried one of many outside restaurants in a night market. It was okay, but they used far too much salt in their cooking and it was no cheaper than Lisa's, where we could eat in warmth and comfort, especially on such a cold and drizzly day.
We decided to spend the day walking to the Big Banyan Tree and Moon Hill, a trip that most people do by bicycle, but we were not keen on riding in the drizzling rain that seemed to have settled in for the day. It was a very scenic walk even though it was along the main road and we stopped at various tourist spots along the way, such as the Butterfly Cave area, where we bought lunch from a little stall - a taro and chong (rice with various delicacies wrapped in a pandan leaf). We saw the hot air balloons carrying local tourists up for a ten-minute hover over the misty landscape and watched some very brave rock-climbers tackling the sheer cliffs of two of the karsts. We walked down to the banks of the Yu Long River to yet another spot where rafting was organized and eventually got to the Banyan Tree Scenic Area. We had heard that you could see the tree from the road so didnˇ¦t bother following the tour groups through the entrance. A little further down the road we came to another gate, where several people were walking in without the need to buy a ticket, so we followed them in and looked around a bit. The area was very pleasant, but not that much better than everywhere else in this part of the world. The main difference was in the presence of souvenir stalls and other services offered to tourists. The 400-year-old banyan tree was impressive, but we have seen even bigger ones elsewhere so we saw no reason to linger.
We walked on to our final destination, Moon Hill. We could see it clearly from the road and had no desire to do any more climbing so, once again, did not feel the need to pay for entrance fees. A lady approached us, wanting to take us home for dinner, at a price of course. We had already made up our minds to dine out at Le Votre restaurant, otherwise we probably would have accepted her offer, just for the experience.
The next task was to find our way back home. We expected to find a bus back for about Y2, and that was confirmed by a postcard-seller by the side of the road. The first mini-bus that stopped did not have room for us as there were others waiting. It was not long before an empty vehicle came along and several locals boarded with us. We thought we had better check that the price really was Y2 because apparently the driver had mumbled something about Y10. We asked several times before he would give us a price, even asking "Two yuan?", and were about to get out again before he drove off with us and charged whatever he wanted. He quickly said Y3 each. We were happy with that, but all the locals got off to wait for the next mini-bus, which would probably charge the correct price. We were a bit worried about being the only passengers, but it wasnˇ¦t long before he was hailed down by several others, all of whom accepted the Y3 fare. There were a lot of people waiting along the way, so it is understandable that some of the drivers would give themselves a New Year bonus.
We had thought for some time about trying the French restaurant, Le Votre. All I knew about it from my internet research was that they didn't know how to do a cr?me brulee properly. Yoong had wanted to go there for breakfast just to experience the ambience, but I thought we should see if they could really produce a French-style meal.
The restaurant is set back from the road and thus less inviting than other West Street places like Drifters and Lisa's, which look cosy and are always full of diners. It is a large room which used to be some sort of Guild Hall. It is rather cluttered with sculptures and paintings, mainly European, but with some large portraits of Mao. We still preferred the d?cor of Lisa's with its Mao badges and Little Red Books. There was only one other table of diners, a Chinese group, and about six young waitresses, who spent most of their time staring at a Chinese soap opera on the television, and seemed quite annoyed when they had to give their attention to customers.
Glasses of hot water were served to us as soon as we sat down, which made a good first impression, but it was all downhill from there. We decided to try main courses of chicken breast cooked in Chinese wine, and pork chops with gruyere cheese, with a pizza for an entr?e. We made a point of telling the girl that we wanted the pizza as an entr?e, to be served and eaten before the other dishes arrived, and she nodded to show she understood.
But it was not to be. The first dish to arrive was the pork chops, three of them, covered in melted cheese, served with thin chips and diced vegetables on a huge plate. Soon after, the pizza arrived and then the chicken breasts, which looked a bit grey and unappetizing due to the wine. They came with the same accompaniments as the pork chops.
The pizza was quite good, almost Drifters standard, and much better than Lisa's. The chicken, we decided, was not fresh, which is inexcusable in this land of live chickens readily available in street markets everywhere. The chips were nice, in a MacDonalds kind of way, but the vegetables looked rather tired. The first two pork chops seemed acceptable, but when we tried the third one, which we shared, we found to our horror that the meat inside was undercooked, to the point of being almost raw. Now, even the French would not eat undercooked pork, though they are happy to eat very rare lamb, duck, horse and beef, even raw in the case of Beef Tartar. The Jews and Muslims are right about pork ˇV it is unclean meat ˇV at least when not well-cooked, and potentially dangerous to our health. We managed to divert a waitress's attention away from the television screen long enough to show her what we had been given. The plate was taken away and we were promised a replacement. It duly arrived, with two more pork chops and all the accompaniments, which we really didn't need at this stage. We checked that the meat was fully cooked and tried again. One of the chops seemed okay, but the other one had a very unpleasant taste and we had to spit it out.
We paid the bill and left, with sour looks from the girls, who obviously found us to be difficult customers. Overall, it was the worst meal we have had on this trip. We don't mind pseudo-western food for a change (the lasagne that wasn't a lasagne was still quite palatable) but can't accept food that is just bad. If it had happened in Melbourne or Paris we would have walked out and refused to pay. Our friend, Lindsay, would have sued a restaurant that served him dangerous food. We just had to hope that it would not cause any major stomach problems.
We decided against breakfast this morning as my stomach had not fully recovered from our disastrous meal at Le Votre. One of Lisa's staff accompanied us to the bus station, which was not really necessary, but I suppose they had to do something for their 20% commission on the tickets. We had not realized that the Wuzhou buses left from this bus station, as the bus had dropped us on the other side of town on its way from Guilin. It apparently works differently in the other direction, even though it comes from Guilin.
The bus trip took us once again past limestone hills as far as the eye could see. Unfortunately we also saw at least a dozen nasty accidents ˇV a mini-bus turned over, a big bus with its front smashed in, a motorcyclistˇ¦s body trapped under the wheels of a bus, various other mangled motorcycles ˇV it seemed endless, and a bit frightening considering the way our driver was cutting through the traffic. The number of accidents was presumably due to a combination of wet roads, heavy Spring Festival traffic and the maniacal driving that seems to be the norm in China. In a country where fake DVDs and Armani jeans are plentiful, there's probably no reason why a driver's licence can't also be bought in the market.
[We found out later that there had been a fatal bus accident in the Guilin area in which some Hong Kong tourists had been killed, and that some of our friends were worried about us. There is no way we would have been on a Tour bus, but they wouldn't know that. None of the hundreds of other accidents seemed to have been mentioned, though we did hear that over 400 people had been killed over the New Year period in China. It was a lot safer when we there twenty years ago and nearly all the traffic was bicycles.]
Back in Wuzhou, we paid Y150 for the same type of room we had for Y78 a week earlier We found a simple but comfortable rice restaurant for a satisfying meal that was cheaper and better than most of what we ate in Yangshuo. We also couldn't resist buying yet more DVDs, the cheapest we've seen anywhere, some for Y3, some, without packaging, for Y1. They had no facilities for testing them, but at those prices it's worth the risk. We now have enough movies to watch to keep us entertained for the rest of the year.
The sun shone today, the first time we've seen it this whole trip. It was actually quite hot. We walked to the Wuzhou Hotel, where we boarded the bus for the three-hour ride back to Zhaoqing.
There was another bus fight! This time it was over ownership of a seat. A family traveling together had saved seats by leaving bags on them, but a man had removed one of the bags and taken the seat. There was a furious shouting match, including some very colourful language, some of which Yoong translated for me. His main argument was that seats were for bums, not bags, whereas their main point seemed to be that he could go and have intimate relations with his mother. Neither of these arguments seemed particularly convincing to me. The bus driver tried to break it up and pointed out other seats which were available, eventually suggesting they get off the bus if they want to continue fighting.
The man refused to budge and the group spread out to other seats, casting some final insults as they gave in. The bus went all the way to Zhaoqing without the usual toilet break, presumably because of the delay caused by the dispute.
Last time we took this free bus there was a charge of Y10 each "for petrol". No mention of it this time, perhaps because the ferry tickets are already so expensive for the New Year Holiday. We are now on the ferry back to Hong Kong.
Despite the rain and the chilly weather, we will miss Yangshuo with its awe-inspiring scenery and its lively West Street. We hope it won't be another twenty years before we see it again.