March 19-22 Guilin, Yangshuo and Fuli, Guangxi

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.

March 16-18 Tunxi & Mt.Huangshan, Anhui

It's a bit of a rush getting off the train and stepping out the door at the station. Streetscape hits you all at once. Scanning for a way out of the crowd, fingers gripping the map, eyes locked on a mode of transportation, or lack thereof.
It's early afternoon when we arrive at Tunxi. Strangely,  we're approached by and haggle with a middle-man before we even see the rickshaw driver. As we load up, this overwhelming feeling of discomfort and guilt for even attempting to haggle swells over us... Our driver is a man half my size and keeps pedaling super hard to pull our weight (plus 60 lbs in backpacks) on his old rusty single-speed machine. Crazy.  It's hard to believe that's even physically possible. I'm not even sure tipping him at the end amounts to a fair exchange.

LaoJie (Old Street) has plenty of old world charm

for good luck

mao feng, green tea

always charming

 

Unlike surroundings of the train station, Tunxi's main street (LaoJie) in the historic part of town, transports us in time. Smell of tea and fresh sesame caramels permeates the air.

Yet again, we haven't made prior arrangements and have to 'settle' on a suite in a historic mansion turned hostel. Bummer ;).What an amazing room with a view of densely packed rooftops below! The buildings lining the area date back to the Ming dynasty and have been painstakingly restored and later converted into shops and restaurants. Many of the houses boast a decorative "horse head gables", which originally had a practical use as fire baffles. Seeing them from above reminds me of scenes from 'Raise the Red Lantern'.
Smells nostalgic around here.

tea galore

'horse head' gables

local specialty items - ink stones and brushes

hammering out sesame treats

Old Street Gate. 

The great urban sight of that evening was something else entirely - bare baby bottoms! Courtesy of baby pants especially designed to allows kids to 'go' without diapers whenever and wherever they like. 

Squat-n-Go! 

Mt. Huangshan was the main reason we visited this region, surreal image of mountain tops buried in mist and clouds imprinted on our minds. That postcard driven expectation flipped on it's head once we arrived at the park - hordes of Chinese tourists with flagpoles and megaphones were inching their way up the 4000 steps to the top. With the best trail sections (those more isolated and challenging) closed for maintenance, we push ahead of the groups as much as possible to experience a moment of silence every couple hundred feet. The entrance fee ($35) comes sans trail closure information, we get to read about details past the gate.

Running short on time, we're forced to take cable car down. A bit of a heated/creepy situation arises during the ride when a group of five men starts taking photos of me with their cell phones, inches from my face. One of those awkward and uncomfortable travel moments. Usually worth a laugh, but we're tired and get defensive instead. Stuck in a tiny space up in the air, we make the best of it and glue our faces to the window. Spectacular views all around.

Back in town, feeling craaazy adventurous, we stop at a tiny family restaurant that looks like it's run from a living room and pick out dinner produce from a fridge. Very hands-on menu approach. Mushrooms and a whole bunch of greens we've never seen before disappear in the kitchen with our hostess. At that point we don't have a slightest idea what's cooking, but cheers to culinary surprises! Pre-packaged spoon-cup-bowl combo in plastic wrap for two. Dinner soon arrives: greens cooked two ways, mushrooms with butter, and soup with some strange bits of meat floating about. Hefty bill seems like double or triple what it should be, but who's to argue now? Thank you Ma'am. Then time to hit instant ramen stand.

local twist on a pretzel - tiny rounds with minced mushroom and onion filling

a must for any train ride

Night train to Guilin. Killer music again. Metal trays meant for spitting scattered along the hallway. Smell of instant ramen and mass pilgrimage to hot water stand minutes after boarding. Constant urge to move about. Everybody's forced to go to sleep and wake up at the same time. Group activity here, like anywhere we've experienced in China so far, is presumed to be the key to happiness. Forget all your urges to read in peace or listen to your own music. Nevertheless, linens are spotless and squat toilets are fine -nothing smeared on the floor. Any urine odor is quickly absorbed by clouds of smoke drifting from both ends of the carriage and constantly sneaking their way deep into crevices of your nostrils. Most importantly though, it's a bug free environment.
Good night then.

March 15, day trip to Zhujiajiao (Zhujiajiaozhen), Qingpu, Shanghai

Getting places seems to be half the fun, or not, depending on your ability to keep things in perspective. After spotting images of Zhujiajiao in one of the brochures, we were ready to combat whatever transportation means available to experience it first hand. With the name of the town scribled in Chinese characters, we stormed a bus station through the back door and, with dumbfounded expressions accompanied by Nihao, managed to get on the right bus. One of the station agents literally took our hand and deposited us by the bus heading for Zhujiajiao, on the outskirts of Shanghai. Yesss! Once in our seat, not knowing how much we should pay for tickets, we presented a handful of money for the attendant to pick out correct change. It seemed like the only option. It was also surprising how comfortable we felt doing it. Not for one second did we consider getting scammed. Strange. Was our guard down? Or was it the feeling that everybody is on everybody's watch here and nothing goes unnoticed by the authority?
Getting out at the proper stop wasn't as big of a hassle as we expected either. We kept an eye out for signs in Pinyin and then followed river of tour groups to the historical Old Town.

Zhujiajiao, a quintessential southern Chinese water town, was established some 1,700 years ago. It boasts over 30 wood and stone bridges, numerous rivers, and many old historical buildings lining the riverbanks. Rice and spice shops, even banks, housed in buildings from Ming and Qing dynasty, still speak of prosperous times originally brought on through rice and clothing business.

The town is also famous for its cuisine, particularly green soy beans, Zongzi (sticky rice dumplings wrapped in bamboo leaves), and lotus roots. Avoiding meat, we eat our way through tasty and piping hot buns filled with veggies and sweet bean paste. 

Because of its large number of waterways that run from Dianshan Lake, much of the town's transport is by boat. Zhujiajiao is often dubbed Venice of the East.

uhm...not so picture happy

haircut memento for future reference 

On the way back, the second we show up at the bus station and without us even mentioning a destination, people usher us onto a bus going to Shanghai. We pick up our bags from the storage at the hostel and take a night train ('hard sleeper') to Tunxi (base for visiting Mt. Huangshan). It turns out to be a very uneventful ride except for the blasting noise at 5am (!!!). Music is force-fed to our half awake bodies as it pours from the speakers right above our heads. Pass me those earplugs PLEASE!

Had to catch this before leaving Shanghai. Intense. 

Turn signals are optional and spontaneous merging prevails.