We arrived in Guilin at 5am and boarded a bus to Yangshuo, about an hour away. Most people fell asleep on the bus, given the early hour, but I stayed awake and was treated to the wonderful, yet slightly eerie sight of the Karst hills as day began to break. The hills jut out of the otherwise flat land at irregular intervals, each one different to the next, both in size and shape. It is very strange, particularly in the early morning. I also saw a water buffalo being led along the road by a farmer, which also made me smile. Indeed, since leaving our last big city, Chengdu, we had seen a lot more of rural China. Gone were the flashing neon signs and western brand names, and not before time. Yangshuo, from a landscape
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