In search of a legendary karst paradise, and after cracking transportation scam on arrival, we decided to skip Guilin and head straight for Yangshuo.
How we keep getting by without speaking the language is a wonder. There's about 40 thousand characters in Chinese writing and one needs to know 3 thousand to read a newspaper. We know but two words, nihao and duoshao. Pitiful. Banal daily achievements take monumental proportions and boost excitement. Humor and hand gestures accompanied by few scribbles are typically all that's needed to break silence with the locals, most of whom are happy to help. By now we're semi-adjusted to the sights and sounds of people coughing and sneezing without covering their mouths, gurgling and constantly spitting out in the streets, and we're not so easily put off when attempting some sort of communication. Although we can't help but cringe internally as we're breaking through clouds of germs. Not to exaggerate, but those mucous driven sounds will stay with us for a long time...
Ahhh, but we've arrived in Guangxi....already seems more of a relaxed environment compared to Shanghai. A rickety budget ride took us to the town center, and a hostel overlooking Li River was only a short walk away. (Hearing from the local kids on the bus has been slightly unnerving...all seven of them without any brothers or sisters, excitement and eerie sadness in their voices as they inquired about how it feels to have a sibling...as if we were telling stories of fictional characters from centuries past. Single Kids Generation.)
Surrounded by beautiful peaks, we planned a quiet afternoon since the weather wasn't looking all that great - overcast skies and drizzle rendered everything brown-grey. Seemed like the ideal time to do some laundry and get ahead on logistics. Crazy how much travel time is spend tending to basic necessities, but we have to eat, sleep, and get places. Preferably smelling nice.
Over the next couple of days we do much of nothing, wander through town (like always lots of Chinese tourists, but quiet side streets), make a bike excursion to Fuli and get lost in the golden canola fields flanked by karst formations. What a landscape...
tiny Fuli
leftovers from NYear celebrations; banners inviting luck and prosperity
we got spotted and had to pay a fee to pass by this temple
fans spread all across the village
tea time...
...and finally some grub.
we're almost sure it was pork. hot, spicy, and very tasty.
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