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Hong Kong.
9th - 17th Oct 2000
My first destination. And not off
to a particularly good start. My flight arrived in
HK 4 hours before Ben and Greig’s was scheduled
to arrive. Paul and Ruth had traveled across Russia
and China and were attempting to be in HK on this
particular date and time to meet us all upon arrival
of Ben and Greigs flight. As I waited for my backpack
to turn up on the carousel I heard my name being called
on the PA system. This was a bit of a shock and about
a million unsavory possibilities came to my mind.
But no. It was a telex from Ben and Greig who had
taken up the airlines offer of traveling a day later
in exchange for cash. So there I was, in China, without
my friends going to turn up on the next flight, and
no idea if Paul and Ruth were ever going to make it
to meet me in time.
They did. But it didn’t stop
me from sweating it for four hours. They had turned
up that morning and had found a place to stay already
so we found an appropriate bus and made our way to
the island. I couldn’t really appreciate anything
yet being still a bit in awe of just being at the
start of what was potentially a very long trip. We
didn’t actually stay on Hong Kong Island, but
across a short stretch of water (5mins by ferry) in
Kowloon. My first taste of backpacking accommodation
is in a place called the Garden Hostel, which is in
a huge, smelly apartment block next door to the infamous
Chunking Mansions. Basically, it's the same deal (ie.
Huge high rise 1950's building in terrible state of
repair crammed with tiny hostels for unsuspecting
backpackers who can't afford sky high HK hotel prices)
but a tiny bit nicer. Luckily we were only on the
fourth floor, meaning we didn't have to rely on the
unpredictable and, frankly, unsafe, elevators. That
first night I managed to meet up with some friends
from my previous company who were living out there.
To meet them we crossed over the straights to Hong
Kong Island itself on the Star Ferry. It provided
and incredible nighttime view of the city. They bought
us beers and a meal, which relaxed me a little.
First day: Discover that Hong Kong
really is quite groovy. Everything is piled up high
and there is 'stuff' everywhere. Nothing quite fits
next to its neighbor architecturally. New is next
to old. New above Old. New in old. Every possible
place has a shop or stall selling something. There
are people everywhere at all times, and they all seemed
to be walking slower than I wanted to be. We took
a trip into the center of HK to check out the situation
with obtaining our visas for China and Vietnam. We
discovered that as well as being quite expensive,
the Vietnam one was going to take 5 days to process.
This meant staying longer than we had anticipated
in this ex-Brit colony. Ben and Greig eventually surfaced
the day after me and we were able to get nice and
drunk with everybody that was supposed to be there,
actually there. They had purchased several bottles
of spirits in duty free that were polished off whilst
playing the first (of very many) card sessions.
One of the first items on the agenda
as tourists, was to get up to Victoria Peak –
the highest point on Hong Kong Island. Accessible
via a little vernacular railway, the observation point
at the top offered outstanding views of the stunning
Honk Kong harbor. We took the trip with a Kiwi and
a Yank we had met in the hostel and arrived just before
dusk, in time to see the city turn on its lights.
We spent a day in over the water
on the bigger island of Lantau. A high-speed ferry
got us there and a bus took us to the main attraction
on the island – The Big Buddha and associated
Buddhist monastery. According to the literature, it’s
the worlds largest outdoor, sitting Buddha, and it
was pretty huge, dominating the skyline from its vantage
point on a hill. The monastery below the Buddha was
also pretty attractive and serene but the tacky piped
music was a bit much. Good for souvenirs, bad for
spiritualism.
We spent a couple of evenings in
the famous Kowloon markets in China Town (still not
sure how they can actually have a China Town in China).
They were pretty outrageous (although we discovered
later that every town in Asia has its own, similar
versions of these markets). They seemed to have almost
everything you could possibly ever want crammed onto
tiny busy stalls. The action and the sounds were frenetic
and the atmosphere heady with black-market and counterfeit
commerce. After a bit we decided to find as traditional
a Chinese eatery as we could. The place we eventually
ended up eating in was on the street under a ragged
tarpaulin with a filthy looking open kitchen and no
menus. We somehow managed to order something and were
pleasantly surprised with what turned up, and we didn’t
even spend the following day driving the porcelain
bus as we had expected.
One night, we were talking to one
of the chaps who ran the hostel who recommended that
we pay a visit to ‘Bonkers’ a local bar/nightclub.
He informed us that there was a drink as much as you
like for HK$60 for two hours. This sounded right up
our street and Ben Greig and I headed there the following
night. As much as you can drink turns out to be quite
a substantial amount and after the two hours were
up I don’t remember what happened.
On our last day there we ventured
over to the South side of HK Island to visit the town
and fishing port, Aberdeen. The area is a tad more
run down than the rest of HK but charming in it’s
own right. After a very persistent boat owner had
pestered us for a good half hour, we agreed to let
him take us on his boat for a trip around the harbor.
He was a jolly chap who pointed out the highlights
in amusing pigeon English.
Eventually our visas were ready and
we were able to progress on the trip.
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| Hong Kong | Guangzhou
| Kunming | Lijiang
| Tiger Leaping Gorge
| Dali
Guangzhou
- 17th - 18th Oct 2000
From Hong Kong we took a train up
to the Chinese border were we passed through without
much problem. Then we were in China itself. Defiantly
a strange feeling. Not too sure what I expected but
this border point on the Chinese side was a lot grimmer
than it’s opposite in Hong Kong. We found the
bus terminal over the other side of the main road
and arranged tickets to Guangzhou by pointing at phrases
in the guidebook and on a map and by smiling a lot.
After about an hour of farting around, the bus departed
and for two and a half hours we ground along a highway
watching the smoggy industrial scenery of central
South China slip past.
Our plan upon reaching Guangzhou
was to get straight to the rail station and try and
book a ticket leaving that night heading West to Kunming
in the Yunnan district. So, arriving at the huge and
forbidding train station, we doffed our sacks and
Paul and Ruth went off to try and get some tickets
whilst Greig and I guarded the bags. Before long a
large crowd had formed around us and was staring intently
and us. Assuming they meant no harm we made a sort
of show of waving and saying hello (in Chinese) and
making sure they knew we weren’t American. But
they didn’t respond in any way and continued
staring. They were eventually dispersed by a security
guy/policeman sitting on an elevated platform overlooking
the crowds. We later assumed that the main point of
interest for them was Greig’s long blonde hair.
Paul and Ruth returned with a lack
of tickets and having been informed that we were best
placed to try again in the morning. So, after some
considerable dithering on out part and persistent
bothering behalf of some street side hawkers, we decided
to head to the same hostel that Paul and Ruth had
stayed in when they were on the way to Hong Kong.
The problem was that the entire town was in the grip
of some kind of trade fair and everybody who was anybody
in China had come to take part. Thus all the hotels
had hiked up their prices and were pretty full. Luckily
we were able to get a couple of rooms.
Guangzhou is the third largest city
in China and used to be called ‘Canton’,
like the style of cooking favored in Chinese takeaways
across the West. It’s not a particularly attractive
place on the whole, but the little area we stayed
in near the river was very nice. Called Shamian Island,
it had a kind of colonial style to it and didn’t
feel all that Chinese. We stayed in the Guangzhou
Youth Hostel, which is reputed to be one of the best
in China, and it did indeed have a nice feel to the
place.
We managed to find ourselves some
beer and we sat on the promenade overlooking a huge
river amongst old people performing Tai Chi and young
kiddies staring in wonder at Greig’s hair.
Next morning we were up at the crack
of dawn to get to the station to try and secure some
tickets. This time we managed it and we come early
afternoon we started the 32 hour journey West to Kunming.
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| Hong Kong | Guangzhou
| Kunming | Lijiang
| Tiger Leaping Gorge
| Dali
Kunming –
19th 20th Oct 2000
Spending 32 hours on a train was
nowhere near as bad as it sounds. It’s not fantastic
fun either though. We had tickets in the ‘Hard
Sleeper’ class, which provided a bunk bed with
a very thin mattress. There was Kunming Kiss (KK)
beer available and we had a pack of cards that helped
while away a few hours. We also got noshed up in the
diner carriage with a very strange, and somewhat frightening,
man from the Seychelles. Though others found it difficult,
I had no problems in sleeping until 08:30, when the
tannoy speaker 6” above my head started screaming
easy listening music and announcements. We met an
old Chinaman who spoke English and had traveled over
the world. When we told him we were heading to Yunnan
District he said that this was the most beautiful
part of China – a Shangri-La.
Arriving at Kunming proved that this
particular region of Yunnan was no Shangri-La. Kunming
was, in my opinion, a bit of a dump. Defiantly 1950’s
Eastern Bloc style architecture seemed to be the main.
We headed up the main road to find the only place
recommended in the guidebook. After getting ourselves
acquainted with the lovely communal squat toilets,
we headed out for a meal.
We found a quiet family run place
that looked as if it was about to shut up shop, but
they opened up for us and put us into a room upstairs.
They were very friendly and attentive even though
there was a bit of a language problem (i.e. We didn’t
speak any Mandarin, they didn’t speak any English),
but our attempts at communicating by waving our arms
around and making noises seemed to keep them amused.
We had a little trouble ordering so, pointing at the
phrase book, we eventually just asked for a few chicken,
beef and vegetable dishes. There was a lot of shouting
coming from the kitchen and the sound of animals being
butchered for our benefit, but finally the food arrived.
Unfortunately we found it mostly inedible. The beef
was fried to within a few dozen atoms of being carbon.
The chicken was deep fried feet, a local delicacy.
The vegetables were a plate of unidentifiable green
things. The only appetising thing in the entire lot
was the rice and the massive amounts of garlic cloves
covering everything. We smiled and picked at the food
as best we could, but ultimately it was a pretty poor
show on our parts. They didn’t seem too offended
though and didn’t charge us for the uneaten
dishes, which was very kind of them.
After a night spent living in fear
of cockroaches, we organised bus tickets to Lijiang,
leaving that evening. To fill the day we visited the
Kunming Bird Market and a temple complex in the city.
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| Hong Kong | Guangzhou
| Kunming | Lijiang
| Tiger Leaping Gorge
| Dali
Lijiang –
21st - 24th Oct 2000
The bus journey was crazy. We arrived
at the bus terminal, led by a girl from the hostel,
and were sheparded straight onto a bus with no seats,
but about 16 bunk beds. It didn’t appear physically
possible, but they seemed to want us to share two
to a bunk. The bus slowly filled up, two to a bed.
Ben and I were crushed into this one bunk and not
looking forward to the next nine hours one little
bit, when half the bus inexplicably, and thankfully,
got off and left, leaving us with a bunk each. We
finally got underway about an hour late and I spent
most of the evening half hanging out of the side of
the bus from the comfort of my bunk, watching the
bus perform outrageous overtaking maneuvers on blind
corners, whilst winding up through a mountainous pass.
It was a moment I will never forget; watching the
stars on this incredibly clear night with my walkman
on, drifting in and out of sleep. I think it was then
that I experienced my first reality shock of the trip.
Some time before dawn the following
morning, we were dumped at the side of a road in Lijiang.
To be honest, it could have been anywhere. We couldn’t
read the signs and we couldn’t know how the
place was supposed to look. So there we were, half
asleep, sitting in the dark in a town in the middle
of nowhere, with absolutely no one around. Then out
of nowhere a couple of very dilapidated taxis appeared
and seemed to want us to go with them. Having no other
particular plans we went and were deposited outside
the ‘First Bend Inn’ guesthouse in the
old part of the town.
A room was sorted out in this bizarre
but beautiful guesthouse, which seemed to have the
decor and atmosphere of a Buddhist monastery. Dawn
was on its way and we decided to have a look around
the town before getting any shuteye. We wandered around
the cobbled streets, avoiding the odd man wheeling
slaughtered pigs about, looking for a good place to
watch the sunrise. There are no cars in the old part
of the town and it defiantly felt a bit otherworldly.
Like being thrown back several hundred years.
To set the scene, Lijiang is 2000
metres up, a rural, mountain-ringed town close to
the Tibetan border in the Yunnan district, China.
It is in two parts, the Old and the New Town. The
old town is exactly what you would expect from a postcard
and it is part of the UNESCO World Heritage list since
1997, whose water canals conferred it the title of
"Little Venice of Orient". Pagoda's everywhere.
It has a large Tibetan-ethnic Naxi population, who
has lived in the area for centuries. It really is
a beautiful place and only pictures can really do
it justice. The New Town is a bit of a mess being
mostly 1960’s concrete but luckily it is invisible
from the old town over a hill. It was very chilled
out and I finally felt as if I was traveling.
We stayed there for a few days just
getting our breath back from the rush across Southern
China to get to Lijiang. We spent most evenings out
in the old town eating out and having a few Dali beers
in the many cafés and restaurants in the old
town. The food was generally excellent (probably due
to the amount of tourism that the place generates)
and the beer was ridiculously cheap working out at
about 30p a pint. We ate many a meal in the Well Bistro
and drank many a Dali beer in the Prague Café,
both of which were friendly and lively places.
On the guidance of the Lonely Planet,
Paul, Ruth and I went for a cycle ride to Baisha,
a small rustic village about 10kms from Lijiang. About
3kms down the road, my hired bikes pedal decided that
it wasn’t going to stay on so we were forced
to make a stop at a scary looking gas station to see
if we could get someone to tighten the bolt. This
caused a bit of a commotion in the dusty and disheveled
forecourt but somebody produced an implement that
looked like it could do the job from the back of a
truck. The repair didn’t last 5 minutes.
Once we had made it there, we headed
over to the residence of a local celebrity, one Dr.
Ho Shi-Xia (Dr Ho for short). He is a herbal tea medic
and completely loony to boot. He is 75, has a great
white beard and claims to be able to cure all ills
with his brand of herbal tea. He got famous in the
70's when a German reporter found him and wrote an
article. Even John Clease has been to visit and commented
in the guest book, "Interesting bloke, crap tea".
My sentiments entirely.
Back in Lijiang we planned a trip
up to the most stunning local area – The Tiger
Leaping Gorge. The hostel made the arrangements and
we packed our small backpacks for a few days in the
foothills of the Himalayas.
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| Hong Kong | Guangzhou
| Kunming | Lijiang
| Tiger Leaping Gorge
| Dali
The Tiger
Leaping Gorge - 24th - 26th Oct 2000
The Tiger Leaping Gorge is one of
the world’s deepest gorges. It is certainly
the most fantastic scenery I have ever had the pleasure
to walk through. It runs 50Kms between the two villages
of Qiaotou and Daju. Located at the foothills of the
Himalayas where a churning, white-water river has
cut a ravine between the Jade Snow Mountain and the
Haba Mountain. It's bloody deep and steep. The name
is derived from the legend of a Tiger that leaped
50 feet across the gorge to escape a hunter. Walking
it’s length is without a doubt one of the most
outstanding things I have ever done.
The morning started early with a
four hour minibus ride to Daju (our chosen starting
point) from Lijiang. We were entertained by a group
of Israelis who sang bad Eruo-Pop tunes the enitre
way as the driver lurched around the crumbling, landslide
ridden, road. We eventually made it to Daju, where
we took advantage of a small restaurant to get some
grub in, then went further in the minibus through
some rural Naxi villiges. The minibus left us near
the river that runs between the two mountains and
after a short walk we came across the jetty where
a boat crewed by a couple of surly looking chaps picked
us up and deposited us (for a 10¥ fee) at the
start of the gorge walk. From there-on-in we were
on our own with only a hand drawn map and our wits
to guide us.
For the first couple of hours we
meandered across farmland on low hills, meeting the
occasional cow and crossing the odd stream, but soon
the start of the gorge loomed impressively into view
and we found ourselves walking on a wide path that
was cut into the side of the Haba mountain and followed
the gorge. There were some big drops above and below
us and some nasty looking recent landslides, but after
the initial vertigo had subsided we were able to enjoy
the scenery for what it was – stunning. For
the most of that first day we strolled for hours in
the baking heat sweating buckets and chatting away
to each other whilst hoping that the guesthouse we
were seeking was not too far away. As far as I can
recall, we didn’t encounter another soul until
we were about a mile from the guest house when we
happened upon a chap wearing some kind of uniform,
sitting on his own under a palm frond shelter selling
cold drinks. We duly purchased some and then rounded
a bend in the path to discover a huge landslide that
had taken the road out.
At this juncture, there appeared
to be two options: 1. Cut directly across the landslide
with little or no chance of surviving, or 2. Climb
up and over the landslide with slightly more chance
of seeing our families again. After considerable deliberation,
we sent Greig and Ben up over the top to scout for
a route over the slide. Whilst they were gone an enterprising
little local took the short route across the landslide
and tried to get us to pay him for an escort over.
We ignored him and followed Ben and Greig up and over.
This was quite a hard climb regardless and we all
slipped and skidded on the loose rocks. Paul had the
worst fall and managed to cut open his hand, though
it may have been worse if I hadn’t been close
enough to grab him as he went over.
So, covered in dust, little cuts
and grazes, we made it to the other side of the landslide
and Walnut Grove, just in time to see a shepard lead
his donkeys straight over the same landslide with
no apparent trouble whatsoever. However, we were glad
to have made it and we progressed on to Sean’s
place, a guest house about half and hours walk further
on. It was fabulous to just sit and rest with a nice
cold drink at Sean’s. We got a room sorted and
settled in for the evening chatting to the 4 other
people who were staying there. Sean (who we never
met) appeared to have cultivated his own alternative
to beer in his garden and it was apparently available
to those who stayed at the guesthouse. Initially sidestepping
this option we ordered some food and were blown away
by the fantastic quality of it. Who’d have thought
you could get a home-made chicken and mushroom pie
with chips 2500ft up a mountain in rural China. For
the rest of the evening, we chatted, ate pancakes
and looked at the stars through Greig binoculars.
The following morning we had the
choice of going hard at it, all the way to the end
of the trek, or, taking it easy for the day and get
to the half-way house, another guesthouse a few hours
up the mountain, thus making it a three, instead of
a two, day trek. We are all intrinsically lazy so
we opted for the latter option. We had to cross another
landslide early on which looked worse, but actually
was not as bad, as the previous one. It was still
pretty hairy as it had a bigger drop, and Ben managed
to astound us all by asking if we could stop for a
bit whilst he took a shit. On the other side we had
a drink, at another guesthouse, and met a couple of
old Aussy fellas who were doing the walk in the opposite
direction. They seemed to be in a lot better shape
than we were, despite them having about 40 years on
us. From there we were able to ascend to the high
path for the very steep climb to the halfway house.
It was a fantastic walk, which for 3 hours offered
us the best views yet of the gorge, over log bridges,
under waterfalls and around twisty narrow paths. But
it was hard work and we had earned the cold beer upon
arrival at the halfway house.
Next morning we tried to get an early
start but were foiled from the off. After taking a
wrong turn immediately outside of the hostel, we found
ourselves in corn fields as opposed to the path. Whilst
Ben, Paul and Ruth turned back to the hostel, Greig
and I tried to find the path by heading up the mountain
from where we were. We climbed and climbed, eventually,
after about 30 mins, finding the high path. We waited
for a bit hoping that the others would join us there,
but after about 20 mins, it would seem that they were
not coming. We found a vantage point and using Greigs
binoculars, we looked down the mountain for some sign
of the rest of our party. We caught a glimpse of a
bright red jacket which we surmised belonged to Todd,
a rather odd American fellow who had been following
us through the gorge. We stumbled down the mountain
to meet them and, already tired, started again.
After walking through the pine forest,
we started ascending again up to the highest point
of the trail. It was at the top of this that Greig
realised that he had mislaid his glasses. He didn’t
think they were far away, so he rambled off to look
for them whilst we had a bit of a rest. It was then
that I realised that I had left my camera somewhere
down the mountain. Greig returned having no luck and
I opted to go back with him to have a further look
for his glasses and my camera. The others carried
on to try and finish the trek. We found Greigs glasses
after about 15 mins and we carried on a bit to see
if my camera could be found. But after half and hour
I decided that it was no good. We could spend all
day backtracking and not be left with enough time
to catch the bus back to Lijiang from Qiaotou, so
I cut my losses and Greig an I climbed back up to
the high point again. Now we were really tired, and
we still had a good 4/5 hours left.
Well to cut an excruciatingly long
story slightly shorter, we made it back to Qiaotou
in one piece but supporting blisters, severe knee,
thigh and back ailments, and red-raw nuts. We caught
the bus back to Lijiang and, with some considerable
difficulty in walking made it back to the hostel.
We celebrated with a nice lump of steak and a few
bottles of Dali beer in the ‘Well Bistro’.
Unbelievably, my camera was found
by a couple of people walking the route a day or two
later than we did. They were also staying in the same
hostel as us and, reading the “Help Lost Camera”
notice Ruth had put up, duly returned my camera. There
are still some honest people in the world. If they
ever read this then ‘Thank you again’,
I’m only sorry that I couldn’t buy you
a drink at the time.
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| Hong Kong | Guangzhou
| Kunming | Lijiang
| Tiger Leaping Gorge
| Dali
Dali - 27th
- 28th Oct 2000
After a few days recovering from
the Tiger Leaping Gorge trek, we booked ourselves
onto a minibus that was heading to Dali, a few hundred
miles South of Lijiang. The journey was long and relatively
uneventful except for when we appeared to break down.
The dilapidated minibus was packed with locals and
all their odds and sods, whilst we were crammed into
the back guarding our backpacks and listening to walkmans.
Some way along a lonely mountain road, amidst a barren
looking landscape, the driver muttered to himself
and pulled off to the side of the road. He got out
and started looking around the ground outside the
bus. After a few minutes he appeared to find what
he was searching for and picked up a fist sized rock.
Getting back into the bus he opened the internal engine
bay hatch and started hammering some unsuspecting
component or other. The other locals did not appear
fazed by this behaviour, but Noakesy uttered the classic
line, “I’m no mechanic, but…”,
which pretty much summed up the thoughts of the rest
of us. After a few minutes of hammering, the driver
wedged the rock into the engine somewhere and drove
off, apparently content with his handiwork.
Dali is meant to be similar in style
and atmosphere to Lijiang, but it really didn’t
seem that way. It was probably because of the weather,
which was raining hard and seemed to drain the life
out of the place. As such we decided to leave after
only one day, spending most of our time in the hostel
drinking Dali beers (for once actually in Dali). This
wasn’t so bad though as they had a table tennis
table on which we played on, outside in the rain and
a big-screen TV and DVD player on which we watched
as many movies as we could in an attempt to get a
fix of western culture. Seriously, that was pretty
much all we did.
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| Hong Kong | Guangzhou
| Kunming | Lijiang
| Tiger Leaping Gorge
| Dali |
