So, after my bike jaunt, my next day was focused around a good lie-in, and a leisurely wander 'round town. I got in some reconnaisance of the local craft shops, and listened to the bargaining. That's proven to be a good idea – it helps you get a sense of what was ridiculous, and what prices were at least in the realm of the believable.
Plus, over lunch, I had the fun of watching a new instalment of the "Most Ridiculous Way to Occupy Your Kids"... there was a shop across the street that sold funky books of matches. Two of the owner's children were bored, so what did the parent do? Not only gave them a few boxes matches so they could work out where fire came from, but even helped out with their impromptu street bonfire activities. Funny but also more than a tad scary!
I hadn't wanted to be a complete sloth, and my athletic activity of the day had the best of aspirations, with a plan to hike the steep trail to the top of Bilian Hill, overlooking town. Alas, my efforts were thwarted by signs like this:
… so I called it a day after a gruelling eight minutes. It was rewarding enough though, as I got views of the river and always busy dock area.
The highlight of day 3 though was my cooking class, which was absolutely brilliant. I took Lonely Planet's recommendation and registered at Cloud 9 Restaurant for their three hour session, ending up having the class to myself.
So, for about £10, I got to pick three recipes that I wanted to learn then head to the market to help buy all the stuff. Hot, humid and chaotic, the market was amazing to look at; full of the visually delicious and disturbing.
Actually, strike that – forget disturbing and just add in plain nasty, as I got a far-off glimpse of the carcasses of fully-skinned dogs. No pics though - I couldn't quite bring myself to do that.
Back at the kitchen though, all was delicious. Chinese food is not all that complicated, but there's an art to doing it right – and my efforts always seem to top out at merely decent. But with Chef Jenny watching, I was able to whip up steamed dumpling, a subtle recipe for kung pao chicken, and my favorite – stir fried green beans with diced pork and chili paste. She even made it seem so easy that I'm now fired up to give these dishes a try once I'm back in London. Odds of success are like those of a London sunny day or (dare I say it) England winning the World Cup anytime this century – possible, but oh so unlikely.
After all that food, it was a good thing that I decided to get some serious hiking in the next day. The plan was to revisit the most scenic parts of the river journey, from Yang Di to Xing Ping. The plus side is that while Yangshuo is incredibly busy, but like so many tourist spots, if you just make an effort, you can leave 80% of the tourists behind including the groups of tourists clustering timidly around their umbrella-waving guide. Bonus!
The hike was a great example, as I caught a locals only bus to Yang Di, a small town on the Li River that we passed by boat a few days before. Even the bus was interesting, as it quickly became absolutely chock-a-block with good-natured locals all headed to market. Some balloons for a crying baby and young boy broke the ice nicely, especially after my first effort popped in dramatic fashion. Stoopid balloon
Once in town, I had a quick stroll through the farmer's market but then it was time to hit the trail. After some stiff bargaining with a local bamboo boat owner, I caught a ride across to the trailhead, and then headed off.
The hike was fun – more of a challenge in direction-finding as opposed to a butt-kicker of a trail, since the route was only loosely-marked. Much of the time, it was an occasion to break out the pidgin Chinese and some sheepish grins as I asked locals for help.
And the villages were pretty cool too - featuring everything from a not-quite fierce guard puppy to proud motivational banners:
But even the ambiguous path was part of the fun, as my route took me back and forth over the river by local boats, and eventually to Xing Ping. Coming into town, I was able to look back and see the stunning backdrop that is famously on the 20 RMB note. Wow. Just wow.
Catching the bus back to Yangshuo, I was pretty beat. The hostel's chef whipped up another dose of that spicy beef and stir-fried green beans that I couldn't get enough of, and I called it a day.
My feet basically called in sick the next day, so it was all about cycling – this time out to the village of Fuli. Now, Fuli has its charms, with a working town feel and a remarkable lack of tourists, but actually getting there was... exciting. Somewhat of an old hand now at cycling in China (I thought!), I soon found myself pedalling frantically through a dark tunnel, as big ol' trucks thundered a few feet away past. Sans lights or reflectors, I was pretty much invisible to them, so pure fear gave me a boost to get the hell out alive. Whew.
Heading back, I figured I'd try some backroads that seemed to go in the right direction. And they did... briefly. But before I knew it, I was way out of town, and getting more and more confused. The mostly upbeat side of me that the Brits love to tease was enjoying the ride, as hamlet to hamlet, I was something of a novelty and all sorts of kids came out to try their English with an enthusiastic “hello!” (Well, or sometimes more of a “herro” since Chinese have trouble with our L's).
A farmer helped me out though, even starting to walk with me to show me the way when languages didn't work. I loved it; just another example of the unbelievably hospitable folks out in the country.
I gave it the ol' college try, but after a short while more, I just calledit quits, and headed the long way home. Facing the dreaded Tunnels of Peril and Possible Asphyxiation, I was hyper-motivated enough already to push my tired legs to go top speed, but wasn't too proud to accept the help of a bit of gravity on the donwhill, plus cowering or ,um, "strategically timing" my ride until only the odd wheezing motorscooter was coming along...
Triumphant, tired, and of course thirsty for a beer... it was time to head back to the hostel for the rare combination of a rooftop Tai Chi class, and then learning a quirky Mongolian dice game using sheep bones from some other travellers. Brilliant.
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