Arrived in Lijiang a few days ago and checked into a great hostel (Panba!) after some linguistic confusion (two person room, not two person bed). True to the word of other backpackers we encountered, its at least as touristy here as in Shangri-La, but way less artificial feeling. Lijiang has one of those old towns that you would think exists only in our imagination about ancient China - traditional pagoda roofed buildings, flagstone streets, old canals rushing water between the streets. Strolled the alleyways and backstreets eating some random street food, the whole place has canals and bridges and views of Jade Dragon Mountain and is reminiscent, for me, of Hoi An in Vietnam, though somehow now quite as charming, but still, quite charming.
Tiger Leaping Gorge is apparently THE trek to do in Southern China- China in general for that matter. I was ready for a little bit of hype, but the place exceeded my expectations and then some for a pleasant surprise. The gorge is so nam
ed for a legend about a tiger leaping across it or something, which strikes me as unlikely, but still. Unfortunately, the fact that it lives up to the hype also means that the local government is furiously planning hotels, golf courses and theme parks. For now however, it remains unspoiled. We headed out in the rain unfortunately, and day one was mostly up- the 28 bends (switchbacks) to be precise and about 6 miles or so to the guesthouse at the halfway point. Only an hour or so in however, we were pleased to see a sign reading "halfway." A few minutes later, another sign reading halfway. Okay, well, maybe its approximate. A good deal later, another sign, and we realized that it was an advertisement for the amusingly and unironically named "Halfway House" guesthouse. Upward we pushed through the rain, c
lambering up the clay trail, and pretty easily passing the few other gringos on the trail, slowed by hangovers and their constant cigarette breaks. Local kids with donkeys followed us much of the way, asking if we were interested in renting a donkey, but we were doing okay. Almost lost the trail a few times, but the one good thing about the donkeys was that the trail could always be found again by following your nose or eyes back to the donkey shit. And in spite of the rain, or perhaps because of the clouds and mist, the views were spectacular across the Yangste roaring below and over to the mountainous cliffs on the opposite side of the gorge. Thousand foot waterfalls pouring down sheer cliffs, mist forming and unforming around the mountains, the nearest description I can make (lame reference alert) was that this place was clearly the inspiration for the hanging mountains of Pandora from Avatar. But real. After an hour and a half we made it over the 28 bends and through a villages to the Halfway House. That place too had the most spectacular view I've about ever seen in my life, looking out across the gorge. The place itself was incredible Swiss-Family-Robinson-Esque place that even had hot showers and great food. Spent the evening shooting the shit, in fact, having the most ridiculously utter nonsense conversation with an Irishman (my favorite of the anglophone travellers) and the drollest Dutchman, and just spent a few hours laughing and swapping stories.
This morning, after a great night's sleep, we headed out again ambitiously for the next town. A clear but slightly misty day, we traversed through ancient Naxi tribal villages with stone walls and those pagoda-y, Chinesey looking roofs, terraced farms cut into the mountain, past goat-herders and wild horses, over waterfalls and through bamboo forests and down through a... marijuana field? Wait a minute- you don't need to have read The Beach to know that when you stumble onto someone's private marijuana patch in Southeast Asia you have definitely gotten yourself lost. And lost we were, doubling back, tripling back, running out of water, stumbling through farms to find villages that seemed completely empty we were starting to lose steam. Finally we pantomimed to some peasants tending their pigsties who pointed us one way, and stumbled into another farm where the girl there spoke enough English to say "This way road!" Well, basically we crashed our way down the gorge and to the low road where we caught a van and picked up a nice young couple who'd gone to Brown and even knew a few people in common. Drove about ten minutes until we reached a point where the new road was covered in rubble from a dynamite blast we'd heard a few minutes before. And by rubble, I mean gigantic boulders that a front end loader was busy clearing away. While we watched. For another hour. As the rain began. But soon enough we were on our way, swapping travel and America stories with Nate and Emily, and learning about his great iphone app (pleco- check it out) that translates characters that you draw on the touchscreen instantly into English, or at least into amusing Chinglish. It is a GREAT way to pass time in traffic jams... We also learned some great phrases that we tried out on our poor driver, including the wonderfully onomonopaetic "oo-uhh" which means "to vomit." And the other delightful piece of Mandarin? Wu-Tang means sugar-free. So if you want a diet coke in Beijing, order a "Wu-Tang Cola."
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