Tuesday, May 06, 2014

China Trip 2014: Yangshuo: Rest, Recharge and Rice Terraces

It turns out that going full-on, from early morning to late at night, for a week or two, has a tendency to wear you out. Who knew? Katy, of course, had had a 14-hour-a-day course for a week (including weekends) before we'd met up. I hadn't had that strain, but had had a nearly restless flight over (thank you giant family group and loud children who elbowed me in the side the whole time!) so I was still fighting a sleep debt and was pretty drained. We were looking forward to our next stop, therefore, for its restfulness and chance to replenish our dwindling energy.

The stop in question was three nights in Yangshuo in Guanxi province in Southern China. After flying into Guilin airport, we would be picked up by the hotel we'd booked and taken to a bamboo raft tour of the Li River (aka the Lijiang River). We'd then spend three nights at the hotel (the Yangshuo Secret Garden). This hotel, far removed from any of the cities in the area, was to be a quiet oasis of calm. It's a collection of older buildings that had bee saved from demolition and converted into a lovely little hotel centered around a series of small courtyards and gardens and typified by large rooms and blissful quiet. It would be an excellent spot for families, and indeed there were several there, but also an excellent base from which to explore two of our key sites: the Li River and the Longsheng Rice Terrace (aka the Dragon's Backbone).

The Li River tour we did, from Yangdi to Xiping, was not as long as the Guilin-to-Yangshuo tour we'd initially intended to go on, but the timing of the latter made doing it on the first day impossible. And the tour we did do was quite spectacular. That area of China is dotted with, and typified by, Karst Spires, large rocky outcroppings hundreds of metres tall, topped generally in a rounded summit. Primarily composed of white rock (presumably limestone), these are lush with lively green foliage and as such resemble naught so much as the towering peaks in the movie Avatar. Coupled with the mist that was present (high temperatures and higher humidity), these peaks had a truly primordial feel to them; one half expected to see pterodactyls circling their summits.







The river tour was on a bamboo raft, composed on long, thick stalks of bamboo curved to the front to form a prow and topped with benches and an awning. They were incredibly slow and somewhat loud, being powered by a tiny two-stroke diesel outboard motor. But the resulting experience was sublime-we drifted downstream, admiring the Karst spires and relaxing in the steamy environs of the waterway, waving to other boats, dozing at times, and generally allowing the stress incurred by life in Beijing to melt away. I also took far too many photos, as is my wont.

The tour lasted about two hours, after which we were collected by the driver to complete our journey to Yangshuo. It was along this portion of the drive that we first started to see the Karst spires and marvelled at their beauty. They continued along the remainder of our journey, when we pulled into the tiny village outside Yangshuo that contained our hostel (on the edge of a swampy field, across a perilous causeway).

The reason we selected this hotel was two-fold: firstly, it was a unique experience, given it was comprised of the historical buildings. Secondly, it was remote. We were both exhausted and needed some "down time", and this seemed the perfect opportunity to get it. Indeed, the first afternoon, from when we arrived, we did very little except shower, relax and eat at the in-house restaurant.
The next day, however, we rose early for one of our more physically active days: the Longsheng rice terraces. Considered to be one of the more beautiful terraced fields in China, this required a three-hour drive across Guanxi province, during which we got to listen to the driver's 10-song music mix on perpetual repeat. The drive and the bad pop/electronica were worth it, though: the rice terraces are beautiful.

Built into the side of a mountain range, the terraces are an answer to the question "how do I grow crops on an incline?". The answer is to build a series of flat fields up the entire slope-essentially creating a number of artificial plateus which can be used to grow crops. These plateaus are formed entirely of earth and are not hemmed in by stone walls, yet have lasted over 650 years so far, with no imminent signs of stopping. This remarkable achievement allows for the utilisation of land that would otherwise be nigh on impossible to use for crops. It also produces an amazing visual: nested fields cascading down vibrant valleys, many filled to overflowing with water for the growing of rice, giving the effect of a stack of green, yellow and mirrored-surfaces stacked neatly atop one another; a cascade of flora.
We lucked out on the weather that day, too. It was a bit overcast, but just misty enough to give some mystery and romance to the fields. We managed to hike through the paths for nearly four hours, traversing the entirety of the walking paths and again spending some time more or less on our own (a calming respite from the babbling tour groups we encountered at so many other destinations). Though these are active and productive fields, the paths designated for tourists are built into the whole area and allow you to bear witness to this unique and spectacular method of farming.



That evening, we got a ride into Yangshuo city itself to sample the nightlife. To be honest, it was a bit disappointing. Yangshuo itself is a big tourist destination, both for Chinese and Western tourists. As a result, it's big and brash but kind of cheesy and artificial. It's also very overpriced. We did have a lovely dinner at a restaurant in town, but found that the bars were so-so at best (and priced above their standing) and the nightclub we randomly selected turned out to do a partial strip-show partway through, which was not at all what we were looking for and-given that I was dragged on stage by the performer-made us both uncomfortable enough that we left immediately. It was not a fun evening, and made slightly worse by the street musicians/karaoke singers who would patrol the streets performing loudly and not with great skill, whether you wanted them to or not.

The next day we'd set aside to have a lie-in and then do not very much. And after the fatigue and stress of the previous weeks, it was glorious. We slept late, we wandered around the local area near the hotel and just generally did… not very much. In the evening, we went in to see a light show created by the director who'd orchestrated the Beijing Olympics' opening ceremony. The show itself was a bit trite or even dull in places, but quite visually striking in many parts and featured over 500 actors choreographed to music, lights and move, all done on the water of the Li River. There were moments in the show that were truly spectacular, including the procession of lighted individuals crossing the water and the illumination of the karst spires in glorious colour. 



It did, however, provide another example of a trend we noticed repeatedly over our trip: Chinese bureaucratic inefficiency and disorganisation. You see, one would think that the easiest way to do it would be to order your tickets from your hotel, collect them at the box office, then find your way to you designated seat. That, however, was not how it was done here. Instead, we ordered our tickets from the hotel, then met the agent with whom the hotel deals and stood around. For about 45 minutes, while she went into the box office three times to no avail. Finally, a piece of paper was secured which got us–and others who had evidently booked with the same agent–into the park where it took place. We then stood around there for awhile, while a second agent from the group went and collected the tickets (evidently the piece of paper was not the tickets, just something to let us into the arena are?). Tickets in hand, we were then directed into a third area to stand around. With about five minutes to go before the scheduled start time, and no indication of what was going on, there was suddenly a huge commotion. You see, instead of just allowing people to go to their seat, the organisers got all 3000 or so viewers to queue up in a giant open-air park thing then all rush in at once. People were all but sprinting for the gates, and it's a miracle nobody was trampled.



This seems to typify many bits of Chinese organisation we observed. There are far too many layers and people involved for no good reason. There are arbitrary and useless roadblocks and wait periods set up. And there's ultimately a huge sense of disorganisation and "hurry up and wait". You end up standing around for ages then having to rush like madmen in order to then stand around again. Combined with no reasonable sense of queueing (I do miss the rigid order of a British queue when I'm in Asia), the result is pure chaos. In every situation, I could easily spot a half-dozen simple changes that would have dramatically improved the situation.

Our time in Yangshuo, though fraught with a few disappointments, was ultimately both very rewarding and desperately needed. By the end of our time in Beijing, both Katy and I felt we were basically running on empty. Our last day, at the Temple of Heaven saw us both dutifully trekking around to the sights, but with no real verve or energy. We'd pushed ourselves hard to see and do as much as we could, and it had finally caught up to us. To have the chance to relax, in a verdent, green and relaxing setting, to sleep in and spend some time with each other and not as much to do, was a much-needed and thoroughly enjoyable experience.