Guilin & Yangshuo, Guangxi, China: The Beautiful South

After our adventures in Cebu, Frank and I flew to Hong Kong. Was I worried about the protests and the political unrest in HK? Well, a little but you should have seen the flight prices. Who doesn't love a bargain?

It was only a flying visit as we stayed for 2 days. It was on the second day that Frank and I separated as he was flying back to the UK for a wedding. I would be taking inspiration from the great Jason Derulo and would be riding solo for about 8 days. Frank's departure coincided with the arrival of a typhoon.

The Hong Kongese and the Chinese might have different stances on extradition and political ideologies, but one thing they do agree on is that it's better to stay home when it's raining.

From HK I travelled internationally into China (controversial), heading northwest to Guilin, Guangxi Province. Any serenity I had from relaxing on white beaches had all gone as I sat amongst the tumultuous Chinese passengers. The only thing that made the train journey bearable was the spectacular views of the southern Chinese countryside. In Guilin, I decided to stay in a hostel as it's much easier to meet others along the way.

I booked myself on a tour of Longji Rice Terraces. On the tour was a Chinese family (mother, father, and two sons), a Chinese couple, and a girl from Israel. The Israeli girl and I talked as we sped north. She was studying in Guangdong for a semester on an exchange program. We started to share stories about how life can be difficult in China and most of our negative experiences of living in the Middle Kingdom, safe in the knowledge that the Chinese passengers couldn't understand us. After about an hour the two 10-year-old boys turned around and started speaking with us in English. Had they heard our previous conversation? When we arrived at the rice paddies the parents of the children thanked us for practicing English with the young boys in a good standard of English.

The Israeli girl and I shared the cable car to the top of the rice fields with the Chinese couple because of our shame of insulting the Chinese. It turned out that they could speak English too! So while we were slagging off China at the back of the minivan, everyone could understand us! It materialised that the Chinese couple was actually from Hong Kong, so they were all for us ripping into China. 

I learned a valuable lesson that day. No matter how much cheaper the Chinese tour is, never do it. On the way back from the rice terraces I wanted to relax and make the time pass as quickly as possible. First, we had to stop off at a restaurant, then a minority village, and finally a minority village market. At the market you could buy ancient Peppa Pig wind chimes or ancient Nike baseball caps. 

One of the main reasons I'm not so keen on hostels is because of the bathroom situation. I talk about my bowel movements probably far too much for this blog, but if I need to go then I shouldn't have to worry about others minding that I'm doing my business. I think this may be one of my last hostel experiences, as I'd rather stay in a hotel and be lonely with the freedom to shit whenever I want. 

My hostel experience was over and I was heading south to Yangshuo. I'd seen pictures online of a sleepy Riverside town right in the midst of the beautiful scenery. But there is no such thing as a sleepy town in China. I looked up the population of Yangshuo and it has the same population as Cardiff. Regardless I decided to immerse myself and travel there by bamboo raft. 

I was a bit let down by the bamboo raft. I thought it was going to be a serene meander down the Lijiang River with some Chinese fella giving the raft a big old push with a stick. Instead, the raft had a noisy two-stroke engine, which spluttered out fumes, and the river was congested by about a hundred of these. I suppose it wouldn't be an authentic Chinese experience without noise, pollution, and overpopulation. 

Our raft driver was on a mission to get to the destination as quickly as possible. Full throttle and weaving in and out of the other rafts. That's it mate, no point hanging around this beautiful scenery. Might as well get there as fast as possible. It's not as if this is the whole reason we've travelled for thousands of miles to be here. 

The following day I awoke without a care in the world. No plan, by myself (😭), but I felt the essence of freedom. I enjoyed a coffee and some French toast (you've got to enjoy it while you can as it'll be impossible to source after October) and set about planning my day. I decided to rent a bike and enjoy the scenery. 

I hadn't been on a proper mountain bike in years and it made me feel like a kid again. I was speeding down hills, riding with no hands, and popping wheelies. The scenery got better around each corner and I was enjoying my leisurely cycle. A few kilometres in and it became hilly and difficult, the clouds parted and the sun started to beat down on me. I began sweating profusely. I stopped to replenish my fluids and as I resumed my journey the chain came off (I obviously don't realise the immense power of my calves). Not to worry I thought, I grew up in the 90s before PlayStations made western children obese. My hands were a bit greasy but I was soon on my way again.

About 10km into the journey and my arse was getting a bit achy. The saddle was tiny, one of those that's a poor excuse of a saddle. Why hasn't anyone put an armchair on a bike before? That would clearly be much better. Not only that, but the chain continued to jump off any time I decided to pedal with a bit of vigour.

About 20km in my knees began to hurt. Was this a window into the future? Is my body already depleted? If my body is suffering so much by 29, then I'll probably be bedridden by the age of 39.

In total I rode about 35km, I was drenched in sweat, my arse was crippled, my knees were in agony, and that bloody chain came off about 5 times resulting in me being caped in grease. Bicycles are bloody useless. They should be exclusively used by adolescents, men having a mid-life crisis, and the Dutch. 

(I had a sore arse and painful knees, there's an obvious joke there but I'll let you finish that one-off).

The following day I was back on two wheels, but I'd opted for a motorised version. Without wanting to sound like Jeremy Clarkson, it was clearly better. I had rented a scooter, I paid the daily fee, received the keys, and stood waiting for a helmet which never came. The woman seemed shocked when I asked for one, but was adamant that I didn't need one. 

"There are many things that we can point to that proof that the human being is not smart. The helmet is my personal favorite. The fact that we had to invent the helmet. Now why did we invent the helmet? Well, because we were participating in many activities that were cracking our heads. We looked at the situation. We chose not to avoid these activities, but to just make little plastic hats so that we can continue our head-cracking lifestyles.

The only thing dumber than the helmet is the helmet law, the point of which is to protect a brain that is functioning so poorly, it's not even trying to stop the cracking of the head that it's in..."

Jerry Seinfeld

Feeling like Humpty Dumpty, I set off with my head exposed in optimal head cracking conditions, I headed up through the mountain roads. They twisted and turned around the mountains, through villages, and between gorges. It was so pleasant after I'd gotten over the fact that if I had crashed I'd have been a vegetable in a rice field. 

I made it to the top unscathed and was totally mesmerized by the view from the top. The pictures will never do it justice. Of all the places I've travelled to, I think this has to be the most beautiful.

Mum and Dad, if you're reading this and are wondering if I made it down OK, just bear in mind that I've Skyped you both since this story. For everyone else, I'll keep you all in suspense...I made it down without cracking my skull!

My time in Yangshuo was most enjoyable and relaxing. I then took a train to Shenzhen, which is the city on the Chinese border of Hong Kong. It always seemed like an interesting place to visit. It was formerly a small fishing village, which over the last few decades has expanded to China's hub of technological development. Once I'd arrived, I searched for things to do, but found very little. Having spent 2 days there, I'd suggest the best thing to do is leave and go somewhere more interesting. 

The best thing I did was visit the technology market. I've been to some similar markets before where people sell out-of-date, overpriced technology. However, the market in Shenzhen is like nothing I'd seen before. They had every imaginable part for every machine. There were shops selling the obvious computer accessories, Bluetooth whatnots, etc., but there were also shops dedicated to selling the obscure items. Button sellers, buttons for computers, for washing machines, for elevators. It had everything and if it didn't have what you wanted they could have made what you wanted from the component parts discarded in the back. I saw one man taking LCD screens out of boxes, rebranding them, and then repackaging them. It was dodgy as fuck, but then that's the essence of China and I loved it. 

Although living in China for two-and-a-half years, I haven't seen all that much of it, so it was pleasant to see the south for the first time. Having said that, I'm always happy to leave. Next up I'm off to Bangkok to see my good friend, Karl. The last two trips I've taken with Karl have been to Alicante, Spain, and Pyeongyang, North Korea. I feel if you were to merge those two places you'd end up in a dodgy Asian city full of Brits, which is essentially what Bangkok is. 

Longqing Gorge

Situated north of Beijing Longqing Gorge offers refuge for those tired of living in the polluted capital. Eunju and I had been planning on going for some time and had calculated the route there expecting it to take up around 2 hours by bus.

When I awoke that morning I felt rather uneasy with a minor stomachache. It wasn’t going to scupper my plans for the day and thought I’d be able to shake it off once I had a coffee inside me.

We boarded bus 919 and followed our progress on the map. We started to notice that the journey was taking much longer than anticipated, then we realised that we weren’t on the express bus. We were on the slow bus going around the houses. This very disappointing turn of events twinned with my stomach becoming more uncomfortable made for a disappointing morning. Three-and-a-half hours later we arrived.

We got off the bus in Yanqing and got a taxi to the gorge. The roads were empty – something I hadn’t seen since arriving in China. There was quite literally no one around which made it exquisitely peaceful. Then the taxi driver stopped and said that he couldn’t take us any further. Luckily we didn’t have to walk the remaining distance up the mountain roads as a man on a motorbike said he’d take us the rest of the way for ¥10 (about £1), a very fair and reasonable price to be propelled from a motorbike without any safety gear. Recent weather had been very hot, but this wasn’t the case in Yanqing. It was surprisingly chilly and by the time we’d gotten to the gorge on the back of the bike I was freezing. I was seriously considering buying a scarf, which seemed mad considering temperatures had reached 38°C only a few days before.

We had finally made it to the gorge. We took an escalator up the mountain, which I now think is definitely preferable to walking up.

We got aboard the boat that would take us along the snaking Gucheng River between the beautiful rocks. The scenery was truly magnificent, and the tour guide explained the history of the local area, or so Eunju told me anyway.

Further down the river and we were off the boat. At this pit stop were many exciting things that I was not in the mood for.

There were opportunities to go kayaking through the gorge, bungee jump off the top of one, or relax in a Buddhist temple. One way they tried to persuade people to do such adrenaline fuelled idiocies was to play very loud techno music. I suppose the logic is to play up beat music to get your blood pumping, and excited to make a mistake such as jumping off a 50m gorge with shoddy Chinese equipment. It didn’t quite have that effect on me.

Instead my stomach had just about given up and I was bordering on vomiting. Between the boat ride, the loud awful techno music, and the smell of burning incense from the nearby temple I was fully expecting to see the remains of my last meal. I was feeling terrible and was 4-5 hours away from the sanctuary of my bed. I wandered through the temple grounds and started to wonder if there would be anything more disrespectful than vomiting on a Buddhist monument. I managed to hold it together.

There was nothing else to do but make the slog of a journey back to Beijing feeling nauseous. I spent the rest of the day and the following morning between my toilet and my bed.

I was due back at work the following afternoon and got hit by a car on my commute to work. Not a bad accident, but enough of a hit to knock me off my bicycle.

It was not a good few days in the life of Brendan Fennell.