Guilin and Yangshuo: Day 3

I'm not one for organized tours, especially in this part of the world, but sometimes a tour is the best, if not the only, way to go somewhere and see something. Take the Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces (lóngjĭ tītián) 龙脊梯田, located 90 kilometers (56 miles) north of Guìlín 桂林. They're a spectacular sight well worth making the effort to get out there to see, but doing so as a day trip relying on public transportation isn't easy, involving a 90-minute bus ride to a road junction, then taking a minibus up to the rice terraces, all the while having to take careful note of timetables while dealing with language issues. Had I been traveling solo, I probably would've gone the independent route, but in company with my wife and daughter, it was much easier to take advantage of the tour offered by the Riverside Hostel - transport to and from the rice terraces, lunch, an English-speaking guide, two hours of free time for exploration and, best of all, no shopping stops. And so it was that in conjunction with a couple from Bĕijīng 北京 (thus ensuring that our guide's commentary would be in both English and Mandarin) and a pair of Italian-speaking women from Switzerland, our group eventually made its way to a community of Yao, one of the 54 officially recognized ethnic minority groups in the People's Republic of China 中华人民共和国:

China may be a multi-ethnic state, but the Han 汉族 make up 93% of the population, and are clearly running the show. And speaking of shows, the first thing we did after pulling into the village was to go into a theater and watch a performance of Yao women singing folk songs. Han Chinese tour groups love to see their ethnic minority compatriots wearing their colorful native costumes while singing and dancing and their colorful native songs and dances, but as this BBC article points out, it presents a distorted image of these minority groups while serving government propaganda purposes. Entertaining tourists is one thing, but having a say in how your communities are governed while trying to preserve your culture in the face of a Han Chinese onslaught of migrants and visitors is another - just ask the Tibetans and Uighurs. One can only imagine what the Yao think. On the one hand, they have to play up to ethnic stereotypes on a daily basis (even Pamela sincerely believes that the surrounding rice fields are dotted with young Yao women wearing their black-and-red outfits singing traditional songs while they do manual labor). On the other hand, there is clearly an economic incentive to doing just that, as the number of new homes under construction or old ones being renovated in the local community showed (the other way for the Yao to make money is to constantly harass tourists to buy handicrafts, trinkets, photo books and whatever else they think visitors would want as souvenirs):

Meanwhile,  the finale of the show involved the women showing off their extremely long hair, which is normally wrapped around their heads in turbans:

The stele proclaims the village has the longest hair in the world:

Lunch was actually pretty good, with one of the highlights being zhútŏng fàn (rice cooked inside bamboo sticks) 竹筒饭, but it was with some sense of relief on my part when we finally got back in the minivan and headed uphill toward the rice terraces:

Píng'ān 平安 is the name of a settlement that serves as one of the gateways to the rice terraces. Populated by members of the Zhuang minority group (along with some Yao), the 600-year-old village now caters almost exclusively to the tourist trade, with every traditional wooden building seemingly occupied by a guesthouse, cafe, restaurant, souvenir shop or some combination thereof (and, yes, palanquins were available for those who didn't want to walk up the 500 meters/1640 feet of stone steps to the terraces):

The terraced paddy fields are a stunning sight and are an amazing feat of agricultural engineering. Some of them are up to 1000 meters (3280 feet) above sea level, and have been carved out of the steep-sided hills for centuries, looking like lines on a contour map:

The lookout we climbed to is known as "Seven Stars" 七星:

One popular activity was to rent native dress for photo ops:

This Yao souvenir vendor was giving a demonstration of how she styled her long hair to a group of Western visitors:

We also picked up some items, doing our part to support the local economy. Soon after the picture of me holding the photo book was taken, my daughter bumped into one of her classmates from back in Shànghăi 上海, proving that China, with its 9.6 million square kilometers (3.7 million square miles) and 1.35 billion people, really is just a small country:

The best way to enjoy the Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces would be to spend a night in one of the villages such as Ping'an. Not only would you be able to take in the view sans the day-trippers (such as ourselves), but I'm sure the starry nights would be fantastic (if the skies cooperated), plus there appear to be ample hiking opportunities. But even if you can only spare a one-day out-and-back trip, the rice fields are well worth seeing.

Back in Guilin, we found ourselves in a less-touristy night market than the area where we'd had dinner the previous two nights, and sat down to a meal that included another regional specialty, beer fish 啤酒鱼:

For our last evening in town, we took a pleasant stroll around Róng Lake 榕湖, highlighted by the illuminated South Gate 南门, the sole surviving remnant of a city wall that was built during the Sòng dynasty  宋朝 (960-1279):

Next up: cruising the river

Guilin and Yangshuo: Day 2

The guidebooks all say not to linger too long in Guìlín 桂林, and for good reason. It isn't that the city lacks for attractions and scenery - there are numerous karst peaks located in the area that deserve to be explored. The problem is that accessing them would take a big bite out of your wallet due to exorbitant entrance fees. My wife, who hates spending money almost as much as she despises the outdoors, consulted with the staff at the Guilin Riverside Hostel, where we had just spent the first of three nights. Their recommendation was to visit Reed Flute Cave 芦笛岩, namely because it was a cave and thus offered protection against the rain - there had been thunder and lightning the previous night, the morning awoke to a heavy downpour that saw the narrow street in front of our hotel briefly become a small lagoon (and which delayed our departure following breakfast) and it would rain off and on throughout the course of the day. What clinched the deal for Pamela was that it would only cost ¥1 (16¢) to take a public bus out to the cave from the city center. After passing through some of Guilin's less-prosperous districts, we alighted from the bus and before locating a restaurant to have some lunch, got our first glimpse of the spectacular karst scenery for which this part of China is noted:

Unlike the bus, admission into Reed Flute Cave wasn't particularly cheap at ¥90 ($14.50) for an adult, plus you were required to join a guided tour. Inside, in true Chinese fashion, many of the rock formations were given imaginative names that I thankfully cannot recall, but the colored lighting did highlight the natural beauty of the formations:

Also,  in true Chinese (tourist) fashion, there were opportunities to part ways with some more of your hard-earned rénmínbì. We successfully resisted the urge to purchase photos of ourselves taken with what appeared to be some kind of crystal, but my daughter wanted to pet some turtles, so she offered to pay the ¥5 (80¢) each required to do so (and we accepted). I still don't understand why it was necessary to keep the poor reptiles inside dark caves other than it had something to do with their being symbols of longevity. It was even claimed that one of the creatures was nearly a thousand years old!:

Still, Reed Flute Cave was an interesting place to visit, and not a bad introduction to the Chinese countryside that we had come all this way to see, as the view outside the exit and pass the souvenir hawkers confirmed:

A short climb uphill led to a pavilion with some decent views, though things would start getting far more spectacular in the coming days the further we got from Guilin:

Back in downtown Guilin, we took a rest at the Riverside Hostel before heading out in search of something to eat for dinner:

With its Foosball table and dartboard, the hotel kept Amber occupied while we waited for a break in the weather. During this time, we booked tours for the next two days, to the Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces 龙脊梯田 and for the Li River 漓江 boat trip from Guilin to Yángshuò 阳朔, respectively. These reservations were easily made through the front desk of the hotel, one of the many good things going for it (breakfast was another one). If you should ever pass through Guilin (and visiting this part of China is highly recommended), the Guilin Riverside Hostel would be a good place to stay. 

Meanwhile, the rain had abated and we set out in search of food. Here, Amber poses in front of the Sun and Moon Twin Pagodas 日月双塔, not as spectacular in the daylight compared to when they are lit up in the evening (see the previous blog post), but still a reminder of which part of the world you're in:

Come dinnertime, we found ourselves again on pedestrianized Zhèngyáng Lù 正阳路, where we munched on pizza at an outdoor restaurant while sampling the local Líquán Beer 漓泉啤酒, a light-tasting brew that nevertheless grew on me the more I drank it in the days to follow:

And the great thing about Chinese food streets (like those in Taiwan) is that if you're still hungry after dinner, you can always stop for goodies like grilled oysters:

Next up: tripping in the paddy fields

Guilin and Yangshuo: Day 1

I've never been bitten by the China bug, but one place in this vast country that has always interested me has been the scroll painting-like mountain scenery of Guìlín 桂林. Even if the name isn't familiar, you've no doubt seen the pictures of mountainous spires jutting straight up out of a landscape dotted with rice paddies. And for the next few blog entries, that is exactly what you're going to see here as well, for the Kaminoge family took advantage of our daughter's spring break from school this past week to fly from Shànghăi  上海 to Guilin in the southwestern province of Guăngxī 广西 in order to soak up some atmosphere and do some serious sightseeing.

Guilin is just over two hours by air from Shanghai. Things got off to a rocky start, however, while we sat in the plane on the tarmac for over an hour, waiting for clearance for take-off. Such delays are common in China, as the country's paranoid military authorities severely restrict the airspace available for civil aviation purposes, with the result being that civilian flights start getting backed up as the day progresses. Once in the air, our flight was rocked by turbulence almost the entire way to Guilin. Then, back again on solid ground, our taxi driver pulled away from the curb before I'd gotten into the cab, with the right rear tire actually running over part of my foot. Fortunately, nothing was damaged, but it was a scare. We eventually arrived at our accommodation, the Guilin Riverside Hostel 九龙商务旅游酒店, in one piece. The Riverside Hostel was our home for the first three nights of our trip. With a nice location next to the Táohuā River 桃花江, English-speaking staff, tour-booking services, Western-style breakfasts and a small but comfortable, wood-floored room, this inn is justifiably popular with foreign travelers. So naturally my wife, who prefers staying in the kind of concrete and linoleum hotels popular with Chinese tour groups, was a little disappointed with our lodgings. 

Once checked in, we set out to explore the city. Guilin has a population of 4.7 million, but its downtown area, though lively, is somewhat small. Walking along the main drag, Zhōngshān Middle Road 中山中路, the atmosphere was not unlike that found in southern Taiwan, with the street scene evoking images of Kaohsiung 高雄 or Kenting 墾丁 (minus the latter's proximity to the ocean, of course). Pamela, getting hungry, stopped to buy some kebabs from a street stall:

The pedestrian-only Zhèngyáng Lù 正阳路 was where we eventually found a restaurant to sample some local dishes. First up was Guilin rice noodles 桂林米粉, which I found to be lacking in flavor, and which Amber was shocked to learn contained horse meat (specifically, the bowl on the right. We could've ordered some with more standard fare like beef or pork, but I want my daughter to experience new things, even if we didn't tell her it was horse until after she had eaten some. Dog meat is also widely available in this part of China, and Amber was constantly worried that my wife and I were going to spring a canine surprise on her at meal times. Don't worry - we didn't):

Another local specialty we sampled was Guilin snails 桂林田螺, which were quite tasty. My daughter wouldn't eat these, but did enjoy using a toothpick to pry the meat from the shells:

Guilin would prove to be a typically dirty and dusty Chinese city in the daytime, but at night parts of it are very attractive, such as the Sun and Moon Twin Pagodas 日月双塔 located on Shān Lake 杉湖:

As we made our way back to the Riverside Hostel, sightseeing boats plied the waterways around central Guilin:

The first day might've been brief, but we were to keep ourselves pleasantly busy in the days to come...