China: Day 13

by Kathy 8. September 2010 11:42

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Chao Long, Peaceful Tranquility

We had no planes, buses or vans to catch today. The freedom was luxurious.

The Yangshuo area in southern China offered us plenty of fun activities. We could bicycle through rural communities along the Yulong River to the picturesque Dragon River Bridge. We could float down the river on bamboo rafts, with guides to steer the rafts over short waterfall drops. We could get muddy exploring a number of underground caves. We could hike to a famous rock formation known as “Moon Hill,” see the fabulous light show in Yangshuo, wander through nearby temples, travel north past Guilin and see the much-photographed Dragons Backbone rice terraces, and more. All of these were on my “to do” list.

This morning, however, we did none of those things. Instead, we lazed around, reveling in the state of “just being.”

Part of the reason for our languor was the drizzling rain that persisted on and off throughout the day. Ben had developed a cough, and we didn’t want him to be out in the chilly wet environment. And the kids and I didn’t have the gear for bicycling along muddy roads.

Plus, we were happy right where we were. Our rural inn had a stash of good books, a great restaurant, a cozy fire, a bin full of legos, and other children for our kids to play with. What more could we possibly want?

Below are a few more photos of the inn.

This walkway led down to the restaurant and main entrance; the short brick wall on the left marked the edge of the open play area, which contained a pool table, legos, bookshelves, and other items.

In the play area, Genevieve created some small houses out of legos.

Next to our room, a tall water tower hummed to us intermittently.

There was an outdoor patio area next to the restaurant:

In the rainy afternoon, Ben was busy teaching Sebastian how to shoot pool. I was ready for a little more stimulation . . . a little adventure. Genevieve’s eyes lit up when I suggested that she and I explore the area together. With our umbrellas to keep us dry, we set off following one of the hiking trails that led away from the inn.

We took a path that quickly led to a dead end field. Genevieve found a ball made out of woven dried fronds.

Our travels are very eye-opening, as we learn how other people live and how resources are used differently around the world. For example, in many places, homes are much smaller, water is viewed as more precious, games are played with ordinary objects such as a plastic bottle on a string. And, here, a ball is made (quite beautifully) from dried grass.

After Genevieve and I had finished marveling over the ball, we backtracked and chose a different trail.

Genevieve insisted on taking my photo after I took hers.

The path climbed upward, and there were a lot of slippery rocks.

We passed many gravesites with firecracker papers and other items left over from the recent Tomb-sweeping day, a holiday in China in which relatives clean the gravesites and pay respects to the dead with offerings.

Paper resembling money is often burned, and firecrackers are ignited.

Looking back behind us:

As we were perched on some tall rocks looking at the view, two German men staying at our inn emerged from the path below. They had come from the direction in which we were heading.

“Do you know where this trail leads?” I asked. They whipped out a small local map given by our inn. “You can have this,” they offered, and they pointed out a dotted line that was labeled as the “Lost World Plateau” walk. One of the men motioned to his sodden pants legs and warned us that the trail was “very wet.”

Genevieve and I were delighted to have a map with both a drawing and detailed written instructions, as we would never have figured out on our own where to turn, which rocks to climb, and which bushes were hiding the overgrown path.

We continued onward, passing large rock formations that stimulated our imaginations. This large clump of lava rock looked like an animal lying down with its head thrown back (before emitting a horrific roar!):

We climbed higher:

The valley below was filled with rows of dark green crops, while more greenery smothered the hillsides.

At the top of our climb was a large plateau.

After crossing the wide, flat field, we had a bit of trouble finding the path. Good thing we had our handy dandy map, which indicated that the trail was "blocked with cut thorn bushes" that were intended to keep cattle from moseying downhill. We finally found our way through the bushes and started the downward trek.

The view:

The grass was tall and coated with water, which soaked our pants as we made our way through the strands.

Soon the trail narrowed, and thorny branches and vines often reached out to snag our umbrellas.

Genevieve and I felt like we were on a jungle adventure. We searched for large juicy spiders and squiggly millipedes, without any luck.

Looking back:

Looking forward:

The lava rocks were fascinating. This one was our favorite—waves that had hardened just as the crests were curling downward:

Genevieve found some long pieces of bamboo on the ground, and she liked the feel of the smooth, hollow stalks.

At the bottom of the hill was a small stream with homes on the far side.

This brick house had been built right on the edge of the stream:

A man was hoeing a field across the water, and I called out “Ni hao!” (hello) and waved. He responded, “Ni hao!” and then called something else to me that I didn’t understand. I just smiled and gave a big final wave. He smiled and waved back. Even without proper words, our good feelings and wishes were transmitted back and forth. In smiles and waves.

Piles of rock and dirt evidenced the ongoing construction around the stream. The interior sides of the streambed had been lined with bricks, and a new flat bridge had been built further downstream. We couldn’t resist crossing over the older bridge, with its skinny arch of stones.

If we turned left, we could have continued walking to the city of Yangshuo. Not today. We turned right, and headed back toward the inn on a slender stretch of dirt road.

The moisture in the air was decreasing, and we had a crisp view of our surroundings:

We rounded a corner and came upon a mother cow and her calf grazing on the side of the road.

Genevieve knew that humans are not the only animals that have fierce “mommy love” protection instincts. With our close proximity, she was a bit nervous that the cow would think we intended to cause some harm to the baby. “Let’s walk by quickly,” she whispered, tugging on my arm that held the upraised camera.

Back at the inn, we celebrated our hike with some hot chocolate (and French fries).

Genevieve wanted a “mother/daughter self-portrait”:

This evening, we all shared another relaxing and delicious meal at the inn. The heaping plate of toffee bananas elicited moans of pleasure from all of us--okay, okay, it might have just been my moans, which no doubt were loud enough to sound like three other people had joined in. Triple yum!

Before bed, we finally had our long overdue Easter egg hunt, with the plastic eggs filled with small surprises that we had packed from home. Easter had passed in Beijing, with a day full of touring the Summer Palace, seeing divine art at the 798 Arts District, and being welcomed into the home of Qing and her parents for a home-made dumpling dinner. We had forgotten all about our eggs that day. Tonight, Ben and I hid the eggs around our room, and Genevieve and Sebastian merrily searched the nooks and crannies. Oh, the simple joys of life.