Yangshuo: Bike at Your Own Risk

Okay – I'm going to start with the obvious...

Yangshuo is pretty. Ridiculously pretty. Jaw-dropping, photo memory-card consuming pretty. In fact, it's so stunning that even though it plays host to millions of tourists a year, it still maintains a special charm. And, just like backpackers everywhere, my stay quickly evolved from 2 days, to 3, to 5. Heck, if the visa and travel plans would allow it, I'd probably still be there.

I headed to Yangshuo the standard way, on a tourist boat down the Li River from Guilin. It's expensive, sure. Overly crowded too. But, still... it's a pretty amazing way to get a fantastic view of what makes Yangshuo worth braving crowds, touts, and strangely persistent, wizened old women peddling marijuana.

Once our boat was underway, I met up with Hauke and Elisa, two cool Germans who had been studying Chinese and working in China for 6 months. They immediately made me feel better for my minimal (at best!) Mandarin with their stories of just how difficult the language was to speak well. There's five ways to pronounce each character, and each can meet with vastly different meangings. And, it seems that the Chinese aren't as used to working with foreigners attempting their language... instead of trying to guess what you might be meaning, the slightest mistake and you're met with blank stares.

The river journey just kept getting better and better. The views went from “wow, that's pretty” to jaw-droppingly gorgeous, and even the weather cooperated – with giving us welcome sunny breaks through the grey haze.

Once we got into town, I caught a taxi to Tripper's Hostel, my home for my ever-lengthening stay. For all my British friends, yup, I know I can be pretty optimistic and positive an American – but seriously, this hostel was fantastic.

Think of your dream hostel. Plop it down a perfect 15 minute walk along the river from the tourist madness in a tranquil village of its own. Add in great staff, a terrace with fantastic cheap food and cold beers. Then, throw in a few key extras such as tai-chi classes on the roof and welcome Belgian beers (nice change after all that Tsingtao) and you've got a fantastic place to while away a day or five. Dozens of travellers on Hostelworld.com had it down for a near-perfect 99% approval rating – and they weren't kidding.

And... a killer view:

Very impressed, I wandered back into town and was of course immediately swarmed by all of the businesses looking for the tourist dollar. But, just like the town itself, they managed to get by without being pushy, and kept the charm of the town alive.

It's a minor compulsion, but whenever I get to a new place, I feel a strong pull to go out and just walk around to get a rough sense of where everything is. Yangshuo was no different, and I soon found myself at Kelly's Place, with authentic Chinese dumplings and equally good Western double thick chocolate milkshake. After a few weeks in China and free from all that tasty British cheese, I had a massive dairy craving.

A rare find of my favorite Aussie beer, VB, and some blogging, and then I met up with the Germans again for much cheaper, but still tasty local beer, each for the princely sum of $.75.

I couldn't be asked (or trusted) to find my way back in the dark, so hopped on the back of a motorcycle taxi for an exciting ride back to the hostel. One more G&T, and exchanging China travel survival tips (“don't look too closely at the meat section in the market – 'less you want to see skinned dogs”) with some other travellers, and then it was time for bed.

Getting up early the next morning, I was pretty excited since it was my chance to rent a bicycle and get out in the countryside. Yangshuo town is pretty, surrounded by steep limestone hills, but it's still pretty busy. Renting a bike would allow me to go exploring – seeing rice paddies, villages, and whatever else came my way.

There's only one minor downside to cycling in China; it essentially means you are gambling that luck is on your side. I wasn't too worried after a few years riding in busy London, but as my white knuckled ride would show, I was being more than a bit naïve.

A bike shop had hooked me up with some good advice for a trail along with a map the day before. So, after an indifferent breakfast of dumplings and tea that was saved only by the riverfront views, I headed out.

How'd it go? Let's just say that the Chinese view traffic rules, lanes, and speed limits as loose guidelines at best, or something to be ignored at worst. Buses, cars, bikes and pedestrians share the same space, and to make things even more interesting, they'll often head the wrong way down your lane. Wrong way? Ha! There is NO 'way' in Chinese traffic – just a general flow that can be ignored at will. And lanes? That's another good one. Picture a four lane road, with two in either direction. Now, imagine an ever-changing scrum of anywhere between 5 and 8 lanes seeming to coexist at the same time. Oh, and for bonus points – drivers are often smoking, calling, and yes, even texting with one eye on the road.

The good news is that once I was out of the town, the ride was fantastic, as the tourist vibe was replaced by the sleepy countryside rhythm of paddy farms and villages. I overtook a couple of kids on bikes early on, and we turned the next mile into a series of races where winning wasn't exactly clear or even important.

(Yes, yes... you have to look closely, but the kid is flashing the peace sign, NOT the finger.)

Ah, who am I kidding – of course it was important! I went 1 for 3 – two of the kids were FAST. Damn whippersnappers.

Right – the rest of the ride was great, winding up and through rice paddies all the way out to Dragon Bridge, a 600 year old stone span.

A local Coke seller and his son were outgoing and fun – even with three words in common between us.

The way back was a bit more adventuresome, mainly in that the path went from one lane road to a one foot wide dirt path along rice paddies. And, for bonus difficulty, each paddy threw in a few 12 inch wide ditches, so if you weren't paying attention, your front wheel would sink down sharply, where you had the risk of your unmentionables meeting your metal handlebar with a potential bonus of long-term involuntary birth control.

But, I survived, voice unchanged, and after dodging some curious local cattle...

… I had a quick dip in the river, while all the Chinese tourists had a water-version of World War 3.

Back to town, and back to the hostel for me... I was beat. Only a 20km ride, but it's been a leisurely two months since my cycling days in London. I self-medicated with a nap, some great spicy beef stir fry, and a beer. Repeated step 3 as often as necessary until drowsy.