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Published: October 21st 2007
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Your asia correspondents calling from Guanling, to the north-east of Kunming. Since we last spoke we cycled back down to Kunming, via some good roads and through fine scenery. We then headed east, visiting the Stone Forest at Shilin. Not petrified or fossilised forest as you might expect, but weirdly-eroded stone formations. The local Yi people have woven some of the formations into their mythology and have ascribed names to them, such as "Petrified Woman waiting for Husband", though the likenesses are not immediately apparent. Or apparent full stop. You may judge for yourselves once I get the photos uploaded. I did note from a TV travelogue that the Yi are particularly partial to a knees-up and sing-song around the fire, with a drop of he hard stuff. Seems to me that they should take it easy on the latter. The whole park was very impressive and well presented - absolutely heaving with Chinese tourists, who took lots of photos of each other amongst the thronging mass, seemingly ignoring the stones. Just a few yards from the main walk ways it was calm and tranquil.
As we have travelled the climate has changed considerably, and this has been reflected in
the food and produce available. Oranges, bananas and mangoes gave way to grapes, apples and pears, and as the air became damp and chilly the summery and colourful stir-fried dishes gave way to warming beef broths. We had one particularly hard and wet day, crawling up several mountain peaks in drizzle and dense mist; visibility so poor that we descended barely any faster. We eventually emerged in a small village and sought lunch. Rather alarmingly, it was time to learn the DIY broth technique. Thankfully, it's quite simple: first select your cut of beef, raw or cooked. This is then thinly sliced and brought to your table with a huge bowl of rich stock, which is set upon a gas burner, and a washing up bowl full of vegetables - beansprouts, potatoes, leafy greens, something which might be mushroom or might be seaweed. Simply tip your ingredients into the stock, give it some welly on the gas burner until there is enough steam, flames and heat to resemble a Saturn Five lift-off and, hey presto, moments later you have a delicious, warming beef and vegetable broth. As this cold, wet day proceeded, I noted that, at least, the bikes looked
quite clean. That is until we hit the outskirts of Pu 'An; a city where the streets are paved with golden liquid mud. We arrived at the hotel caked from the knees down, on filthy bikes, with four muddy panniers each. The head receptionist, no-doubt fearfull for her spotless room, set her staff on cleaning the panniers with cloths. She couldn't be dissuaded from this futile task, but we did convince her that it was more effective to hose the bags down in the shower. She accordingly transferred operations to the bathroom, then finished off by hosing Richard down, still in his waterproof clothing. At this moment, the extraordinary scene was completed when the manager arrived in the room accompanied by the local Police en masse, intent on examining Richard's papers. They were courteous and left happy, with not even a raised eyebrow at the bizzare scene before them.
We had an excellent following day; the climbs were rewarded with fine views and lunchtime was a social whirl. We inadvertently chose an eatery next to the primary school gates, and were soon the focus of the rapt attention of the entire school population. We took the opportunity to launch
the Two Foreigners on Heavenly Bicycles Mail Order Family Portrait Service. Indeed, the first (and last) order was despatched the following day. A tiny "reprographics" shop printed two photos of a women and her two children for us, and the hotel staff directed us to the Post Office. However, the Post Office was devoid of envelopes, so back to the reprographics shop, where they found one emblazoned with cute slogans in English ("I love you and don't care who knows"). Back to the Post Office where, by dint of showing us a huge wad of cash, probably the combined wealth of the entire town, they intimated that it was a savings branch only. We point to the phrase in the book "Where is the post office?". "Here". We again offer photos and envelope. They again wave wad of cash. After looking at the photos and appreciating the humanitarian aspect, the girl indicates that she will personally get them mailed to the address on the scrap of paper provided. Quiet tearing noises as we leave the building.
There is nothing flat about this area, and salvation has been found in the shape of new highways which charge through mountains and
stride across valleys on huge bridges. On our first day on one of these we were able to travel in the "non-motorised" carriage way, along with the goats and buffalo carts. On the second day, though, bicycles were prohibited from the carriageway, and we had to blag our way past the ten-year old policeman at the entry point. He eventually waved us on, presumably acknowledging the fact that we travel at twice the speed of anything Chinese on a bicycle, and are less likely to litter the carriageway with buffalo dung and badly-parked goats. Yesterday, we were once more saved by the manifestation of a not-quite-completed-but-opened-anyway expressway, and again had to talk our way past the incredulous officer. We have just enjoyed our day off today, visiting "The Mightiest Waterfall in the Whole of China - Huangguoshu". Indeed it is spectacular, and you get to walk behind the watery veil. Tomorrow, onwards towards Guillin. Talk to you soon.
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dad
non-member comment
hello again
nice to get your up date. glad the food is improving. it should be getting easier to order or is it?. all O.K. here DAD.