Guilin and Yangshuo: Day 8 (the end)

Our final morning in Yángshuò 阳朔 began with breakfast at Le Vôtre, the French restaurant sharing the same Ming-era residence as our lodgings, the Yangshuo C.Resort West Street Residence:

Interior decorations ranged from Buddhist and Christian statuary to posters of Chinese Communist political idols:

With only a limited amount of time to spend in Yangshuo before our hired car drove us to the airport, we ventured down to the river for one last look at the karst topography:

Back on Xījiē 西街, and some politically incorrect shop signage:

Probably politically correct by Chinese standards: this patriotic stall operator strikes a blow for national pride through the means of blatant, blanket discrimination. Trying to tell her that Máo Zédōng 毛泽东 and the Chinese Communist Party were responsible for the deaths of more Chinese citizens than the Japanese Imperial Army, or that more than 2/3 of the Japanese population today was born after the events of the Second World War, or that the Japanese government has expressed its regret or remorse at least 25 times (by one recent count) since Japan and China re-established diplomatic relations in 1972 will no doubt just elicit looks of incomprehension and be a complete waste of time. As long as the Chinese government faces pressure and calls for reform from disgruntled citizens, the atrocities committed by the Japanese military all those years ago will serve as a convenient pressure release valve, diverting dissatisfaction away from ruling elite and its bankrupt ideology, and back toward a people the Chinese have historically dismissed as "dwarves" (Japanese nationalists, of course, have done more than their fair share when it comes to stoking the fires of anger and resentment among the Chinese populace). People like our Yangshuo vendor are fed a nightly diet of ridiculous, historically-challenged TV dramas featuring evil Japanese invaders (sometimes led by sexy seductresses, and featuring soldiers who shoot with Star Wars stormtrooper-like accuracy) and valiant, almost superhero-like Chinese resistance fighters (like the female martial artist who single-handedly tore a Japanese soldier in half). It appeals to the lowest common denominator, but it works, as evidenced by our motherland-loving street vendor:

If you were to open a food stand, and being upset over what is happening to the Tibetans and Uighurs, decided to strike a blow for freedom by refusing to serve Chinese customers, our proud descendant of the Yellow Emperor 黄帝 would most likely be up in arms (no doubt reminded by her government of the past "150 years of national humiliation" at the hands of the West, with the mythical signs banning Chinese and dogs from public parks and all that rubbish). One of the things I find most interesting about the Chinese citizenry is how suspicious (and rightfully so) they are of their leaders when it comes to matters like air quality, corruption, food safety and so on, yet on issues that involve other nations (the Senkaku Islands 尖閣諸島, the South China Sea, Tibet etc.) they accept without question the official line. Han chauvinism triumphs over common sense.

But this was a vacation, and politics can wait until I'm back at work. Visit Guìlín 桂林 and Yangshuo, and you will experience crowds, noise, touts and scenes of poverty. You will also encounter stunning natural beauty, historic architecture, great food, friendly people and the China you saw from images in coffee table books and TV travel documentaries. The choice is yours to make. I'm happy with my decision:

Li River view #2 (Laozhai Mountain)

Li River view #1

Guilin and Yangshuo: Day 7

Yángshuò 阳朔 in the morning as seen from the roof of the Yangshuo C.Resort West Street Residence:

What constitutes a public "bus" in Yangshuo:

What's it like to ride on such a contraption in the local traffic: 

We managed to make it in one piece to the local bus "station" (the spot on the sidewalk where these vehicles started and ended their routes), before changing to a more conventional minivan for the short trip to Xīngpíng 兴坪, a small town noted in China for being the site for the photo on the back of the RMB20 bill. Soon after alighting, we came across these directional signs, including one indicating the distance to the Senkaku Islands 尖閣諸島, an inherent part of Chinese territory since time immemorial...or about 1971, in this case:

Xingping is hoping to become the next Yangshuo, dangling a street filled with old buildings in the process of being converted into restaurants and souvenir shops as bait to lure in tourists:

One such tour group appeared to be made up of Communist Party members on some sort of junket inspection visit. One member carried a red flag with a yellow hammer-and-sickle in the upper left corner:

For some reason, this store reminded my wife of her youth in Taiwan:

Plenty of shops here and in Yangshuo sell the same hanging scrolls and ink paintings. We ended up buying one, of course:

My daughter befriended a pair of local cats:

At the end of the street we saw a sign pointing to the location of the RMB20 note photo. Once again, we were back on the Lí River 漓江:

20 marks the spot:

Back in town, Pamela shows off some silver she bought just before lunchtime:

After lunch, we stopped in at a local temple that included a stage for Chinese opera performances:

A trip down memory lane, including some items demonstrating an inexplicable nostalgic yearning for the terrible days of a not-all-that distant yesteryear:

A beautiful old building converted into a cafe, a positive trend I've seen in several places in China. Instead of tearing down the old and replacing it with the hideous new, or preserving the past as some stagnant museum piece, better to give it new meaning (and new life):

At last! Something that I've sorely missed since coming to Shànghăi: hiking trails. As the sign says, it was only 30 minutes and 1159 steps to the top of Lăozhàishān 老寨山, but I was glad Amber stayed at the bottom of the hill with her mom. Parts of the trail were narrow and slippery, and one section required a climb up a rusty ladder bolted into the side of the mountain:

Views going up...:

...views from the top...:

...and views on the way back down:

On the way back to the bus stop and the return trip to Yangshuo, my daughter stopped to tip an old man playing an Èrhú 二胡, a traditional two-stringed Chinese fiddle:

The minivan was crowded, and the only spare seat was up front, next to the driver. Another passenger squeezed in between the two, and she later complained that he stank of alcohol. She was glad to be back in Yangshuo:

Scenes from our last evening in Yangshuo:

Taipei (Taipel?) Story, on Yangshuo's main drag Xījiē, specialized in shoes. Nearby were Beijing Story, selling handbags, and Shanghai Story, focusing on scarves:

Ending the day where it had began - on the roof of our hotel:

Next up: the end of our trip