999 Steps to Heaven.

Who would have thought getting to Heaven was like Disneyland? We bid a sad farewell to Victor and our rocking hostel in Zhangjiajie and took a taxi to Tianmu mountain where we  luggage was stashed at a nearby hotel and got ready to wait in line. It's quite the ordeal to get to Heaven's Gate, and a 2 hour wait in line is the first step. Thank goodness for hilarious slogans and mistranslations on tee shirts to keep us all entertained. A favorite was a massive black and white photo of Chris Hemsworth splattered on a man's tee but the real winner was the man who brought his largish poodle type dog in line with him. Slowly but surely, the line snaked forward and brought us to the cable car ride that started the day's adventure.8 people to a car, the whole 30 minute ride starts by giving you a bird's eye view over a freeway, then a splattering of small villages. From up above, you can see women smacking laundry over rocks in a stream or the washed shirts hanging to dry over a field sprinkled with pecking chickens. As the terrain becomes more mountainous, things fade into thicker trees and jagged triangular points. The view below plummets into dizzying valleys as your little cable car is suspended over a thin line that appears to be climbing straight into the air. It's terrifying. 

There's nothing but a dizzying drop below that concrete platform (and some gorgeous views). 

Once you disembark, the whole scene unfolds before your eyes; a road with more turns than Lombard street snakes below you, while huge canverous valleys carpeted with green go on and on forever, creating a deep dip surrounded by steep and triangular peaks. It's an incredible view that is best seen by above. Good thing you can walk out on platforms with glass bottoms. 

The walkways on the mountain are a bit terrifying when you realize the entire path is clinging to the side of a cliff, but that fear is compounded when cement is replaced by transparent plastic. (Plastic walkway doesn't have the same ring as Glass Bridge, but in no way is that trail glass"). The material was a bit opaque but still provided a dizzying view of what lay below your feet. After the glass bridge, the walkway curls around the mountain, with several viewing points and a large suspension bridge. The swaying and spaces between boards made that crossing more frightening than the glass bridge, but made for another great viewpoint. 

I look brave in this picture. Don't be fooled. 

Needing to catch our flight later that evening, we needed to shorten our travel time up the mountain  so it was straight to the chairlift to take is higher on the mountain. At this point, the afternoon mist was rolling in, giving a normal mountainside chairlift a mysterious edge. The fog made it impossible to see the bouncing chairs ahead of you, leaving you feeling very alone on this mountain slope (read: everything was way cooler). The fog was fully swathing the mountain now, allowing huge structures like the Buddhist temple at the mountain's zenith impossible to see unless you were a few feet in front of it. The surrounding forests that crowd the walkways not hugging cliffs were enshrouded in mist and made everything 10 more beautiful and mysterious. 

I wish all the building in China looked like this. 

Can you see that windy road to the right? 

The Disneyland-esque aspect of our day returned when we needed to take an elevator and an enormous escalator through the mountain to get to Heaven's Gate. I never thought I'd be taking an escalator through a mountain and would need to wait in line for it. 8 incredibly long escalators later, our walkway wrapped around the mountain a giving us a view of Heaven's Gate up close. An enormous archway splits two massive mountains and allows the light to shine through, hence the heavenly appearance and title. One side is approachable by walkway, while the other spits out a 999 staircase you can choose to climb. (Or you can just take the escalator and the walkway and walk down the giant staircase). Despite the many modes of transportation to get there, Heaven's Gate was enchanting, especially if you add the waterfall to your left and the smokey incense curling up from the huge drum at the base. Though it would have been neat to climb up the stairs, heading down them gave us the energy to eat trail mix at the base and take in the whole scene. 

The day wasn't quite over yet; a dizzying drive down dozens (99 to be exact) of hairpin turns awaited us. Anticipating a terrible case of motion sickness, the drive lulled me to sleep after I had taken in my fair share of the views on the way down. A lunch of chow mien, a taxi ride and a plane then got us back to Nanjing. Funnily enough, that's when the motion sickness hit me; being in a taxi, then cable car, then ski lift, followed by an elevator ride and an escalator ride that felt like forever, a shuttle down the mountain, a taxi to the airport where a plane took us to the metro and another 90 minutes on that mode of transportation had me feeling like I was constantly in motion. Needless to say, I was ready to sleep in my own bed (and to see my darling kids the next day). 

The Loogie Alarm Clock.

Sleeper trains. For a train named for sleeping, there weren't many "zzzz's" to catch. Maybe I would have slept better on an American sleeper train because the main reason for my unrestful night was the violent hocking of loogies. The guttural coughs, the repeated rasping and then the eventful spit is hard to endure walking through the street and asking to sleep through a series of loogie hocking is asking too much. Needless to say, the entire evening was quite the ordeal. I rocked the middle bunk, meaning I had just enough room to sit on my bunk and have my neck curve at a nice angle, sandwiched between 2 other beds. There were 6 to our tiny broom closet sized room; naturally, the two eldest people in our compartment were all the way on top. I was impressed "grandma and grandpa" could climb up the narrow latter and curl up on the board like beds. The bottom bunks were the hottest real estate because you can sit up without being squashed. The ladies on the bottom bunks invited Hannah and myself over while we ate our ramen dinner so we didn't have to hunch over, which was very kind. What I didn't appreciate was the fact that the top bunk dwellers had painstakingly stuffed tissues in the air vents so they wouldn't get too chilly sleeping near the air conditioner. However, that mean it was a bit of a scorcher for those on the middle rows. Good thing Zhangjiajie was worth it (and that there are only 4 more sleeper trains in my foreseeable future). 

This city is quite pretty, tucked away in gorgeous mountains. The national park hidden up here is also jaw dropping. It was a chilly wait in line to get our national park passes but after passing the finger print test and several passport scrutiny points (intense, right?) I made it inside. Victor, our hostel's front desk man, had drawn us a very clear "to do list" for the day that consisted of meandering pathways under the staggering mountains. Because of the weather, it would be pointless to climb to the tops because the startling drops would be hidden by the clouds. 

Thus, the afternoon was spent admiring gorgeous walkways interrupted by stone bridges and mossy stones gazing up at tall trees and even taller mountains. Pretty as that was, the real highlight were the hordes of monkeys we stumbled upon. Those little baby monkeys were so cute and loved to to grab banana chips right out of your hand. The bigger ones were more impatient and would just snag the entire bag of trail mix by climbing up your leg and taking off with it. While the day on the ground level was fun, we were anxious to get to climbing to see the mountain tops. Lucky for us, Monday's forecast was nothing but blue skies. 

What you can't see is the huge McDonald's just behind this impressive structure. 

Victor had outlined a deserted trail head which we found with little issue, and chatted between breaths about favorite childhood shows and ice cream flavors. After many steps, a visit to a very tall pagoda that housed huge salamanders that ended up being on cafe's menu, a McDonald's on top of the mountain (?!?), even more stairs, were got to the top. The views were stunning; the mountains seemed to completely drop off to reveal a valley where towering pinnacles were somehow suspended. Obviously the stalagmite-esqe shapes were mounted to the ground, but they seemed to be free form, floating just above the ground. I suppose that's where the inspiration for the Avatar film came from; regardless, the view was breathtaking. 

A poor replica of the real thing. 

We had spent the entire day climbing higher and higher, either on foot or on shuttle. By the way, those shuttle rides are always a good time. People try to chat with us and continue the conversation though my Chinese basically consists of saying "hello" and counting from 1-10 in what I'm sure is a horrendous accent. One man kept narrating bits of pieces for his friends at the front of bus, shouting "Americans!', "Teachers!" and other key phrases for the others to hear. Another man decided to pass the time singing while the shuttle hugged huge cliff faces and rounded sharp turns. Regrettably, I did not pack my headphones that day. 

You would not believe how many people cut in front of me before I got my turn on the platform. 

Because we had reached such a high elevation and sunset was quickly approaching, we needed a quick way down the enormous mountain. Climbing down was not an option due to lack of energy (and trail mix), and a shuttle would take too long. Thank goodness the national park had installed an elevator that shoots you down some 362 or something stories in about 6 seconds. It comes with a pricey ticket and a decent wait in line, but it was so worth it to see the mountain blur as your zip down at record speed. I think what I appreciated most (besides the floor to ceiling glass for a killer view) was the fact that the waiting area was decorated just like hotel lobby; it almost made you forget you'd be elevator-ing down a mountain instead of a few hotel floors. 

Tuckered out, we needed to board the bus home...which ended up being the most memorable adventure of the whole day. The concept of waiting in line is completely lost on Chinese tour groups wanting to board a bus. The "line" becomes a swarming crowd of people that push and shove, and yank and squish and shout, all to get on a bus. Needing to get home, we joined the pulsating mass of people. Things got intense when the bus pulled up; elbows were thrown, backpacks were pulled, and individuals were dragging friends onto the bus by random limbs. Situated in the middle of the swarm, at one point my feet couldn't touch the ground because I was lifted up by the mass of people pushing me. By some miracle, all 8 of us managed to squish onto the bus along with what seemed like 2,129 other people. All. On. One. Bus. Getting ready to settle in for the 20 or so minute ride, the bus suddenly stopped about 2 minutes later and everyone disembarked. All that shoving and shouting and screaming was for nothing! The bus to go home was down the mountain a bit further; people had seemingly risked their lives for a 1200 meter bus ride down hill. 

Here's to hoping the buses are never again that busy. Ever. 

Bamboozled.

When in China, be sure to follow the wise words of anyone who says "local guide". We started out our Thursday morning by getting mangoes and strawberries for breakfast and heading out to the countryside on motorbikes. We had planned to hike Moon Hill, a beautiful archway atop a karst, which is where we met Mama Moon. Mama Moon is a spunky lady who has to be at least 70 years old, who advertised herself as a "local guide" who could get us entry tickets for a "local price" and show us the "local trail". We would be getting a 75% discount on the price, which is hard to argue with. Turns out the local way is parking our motor scooters in the forest, climbing over a mossy stone wall, and crawling through the overgrown bamboo on a muddy and very obviously human made pathway in the mud. In between shushing us to be quiet and having us duck down so we wouldn't be seen, Mama Moon kept assuring us we were on the right path. Eventually, we did meet up with the paved walkway and made it to the top for some spectacular views. It was only awkward when 11 sweaty and muddy Americans clamored on the paved path in front of some rather shocked Europeans who had no idea where we had emerged from. Thanks, Mama Moon. 

Bamboo is the only way to travel. 

The rest of the afternoon was idyllically cruising the countryside on our little motor scooters. We took the same scenic route we found on the bikes, and made it to the same cafe for more mango sorbet and the chance to maybe float on bamboo rafts. Call it creatures of habit, but the mango sorbet and the views make it a hard place to only visit once. The rafts weren't running that day, so we ordered a leisurely lunch, but the minute we had finished, we saw someone untying the rafts to float on the river. We took our chance; this whole trip, the river had been too high to even think about rafting it. While not being able to raft all week, it also meant we were the only rafts on the water that afternoon. I highly recommend slowly floating the river being gently paddled by a man wielding a huge bamboo stick as you gaze up the catawampus mountains carpeted in green around you. It's lovely. 

Our last remaining days in Yangshuo were spent soaking up the scenery by finding little hikes and pathways to wander, riding through the countryside on bikes and motor scooters, and again on foot while munching on mangoes and those egg crepes I've come to love. Evenings were spent swapping stories in the many cafes that line the offshoots of West Street, and considering how much tea is too much tea to bring home for friends and family. One afternoon was spent doing a cooking class with the Cloud 9 restaurant; Hannah and I myself joined two French women and the restaurant's head chef for a market tour and then a tutorial on how to make 4 or 5 dishes.  The lack of photos is only because we were instructed to keep cameras and phones away while we strolled through the enormous market and later cooked our meal. The vegetables were beautiful; deep plum eggplants neighbored piles of lotus roots and bamboo shoots while huge bags of cumin perfumed the air. Baskets of eggs were precariously stacked to be inspected by those interested; teeny speckled quail eggs, soft mint and beige chicken eggs and larger duck eggs all piled high to be admired. I could talk all day about the produce, though I intentionally skipped out on the butcher block. However, detour didn't save me from spying the bags of turtles, bins of eels, and buckets of snails that rimmed the entrance. 

(Rule breaker; impromptu market shot). 

The kitchen was a long room framed by windows that overlooked the city. Each station was lined with well loved woks and containers of seasoning staples like salt, sesame oil, garlic  ginger, black vinegar and oyster sauced. First up was a mushroom and scallion stuffed and steamed dumplings, then spicy green beans sautéed with numbing sichuan, a stir fry of Chinese lettuce root and carrots, and little parcels of deep fried egg plant stuffed with the remaining dumpling mixture. While the French women split their meals with their interpreter and had extra to take home in a takeaway box, Hannah and I had no problem polishing off the delicious meal. The package included a little print off of the recipes, meaning I'll be recreating the meal as best I can when it comes time to go back home. 

Don't be fooled by the print on the currency; there are about 172,192 bamboo rafts in that river if the 20 yuan note wasn't in the way. 

Before leaving Yangshuo, we had to get a photo by the so called "20 yuan shot", the scenic stretch of the Li River that appears on the back of the 20 yuan note. True to the TripAdvisor review, after you will come to despise the word bamboo after your visit. The entire walk through dusty streets lined with people selling fruit and little fish in tiny bags, I was bombarded with about a thousand offers for a ride down the river on a bamboo raft. Dozens of tiny women shouted "Bamboo! Bamboo!" as we all made our way down to the river and tried not to melt in the scorching sun. On our walk back to the bus, we were chased down by one last woman shouting "Bamboo, bamboo!". I would had brushed her off as just another vendor, but I recognized that spunky grin anywhere- Mama Moon had come to the neighboring city Pinxing to work her "local guide" magic. True to form, she tried to have us spend the afternoon hiking up a karst to see the view from a bird's eye perspective, telling us we could get in "no charge, just for locals!". Sadly, we had a bus to catch, and couldn't fit it in. I fully expect to see Mama Moon sneaking tourists onto the Great Wall next month. Until then, it was a bumpy bus ride before catching a tuk-tuk, then another coach to Guilin, where a bullet train took us to Liuzhou and a sleeper train (full post on THOSE adventures to come) and a taxi before arriving in Zhangjiajie; the Avatar Mountains. 

Tie on Life Jackets.

Be warned; bakeries in China can be your best friend or be the stuff of nightmares. We frequent bakeries more than I thought while vacationing, because bread makes a quick and packable lunch when you are planning on being in the jungle, riverside all day long. But more on the duality of bakeries;They can be your best friend because cutely packaged milk drinks are a delicious combo of coconut and some other milk like beverage, but are also bringers of terrible news because of two things; meat floss and red bean. Meat floss is the bane of Chinese food. It's a stringy substance that lurks inside rolls and under crepes. It's disgusting and I have no idea why it's in everything. Red bean is also another bringer of disappointment. The stuff looks like raisins, chocolate chips, and cinnamon, meaning you can literally eat disappointment. You think you are biting into raisin bread, or a roll filled with chocolate but nope. There are beans in your bread. You are eating bean bread. It's worse than thinking you grabbed a chocolate chip cookie and instead find out it's a raisin cookie. 

However, I can't be too sad because even when I have to put on a still wet swimsuit and having a breakfast of bean bread because today is set up to be an incredible adventure. Yesterday, we had booked tickets to go river drifting. Basically, you get stuffed into a blow up raft and placed in a holding tank until the dam breaks and you careen down a jungly river path, slamming into rock walls and splashing into little waterfalls and falling down huge drop offs. Hannah was our saving grace and pulled out the camp games while we waited and while we made the hour or so drive up the river. We climbed higher and high into the overgrown mountains before getting off and locking up valuables, changing into swimsuits and taking a very chilly bus ride to the top of the mountain. I'm thinking the open air shuttle would have been really gorgeous in the summer time, but it made the ride a bit chilly considering I was covered in goosebumps and it was raining. Did I mention that it was raining? Good thing we were planning on getting soaked via the coursing river. 

At the end of our nippy shuttle ride, a pile of maybe not that secure helmets and life vests that you just tie on were supplied. I secured my "life vest" with a few bunny eared bows and snapped on a helmet that didn't feel that heavy and climbed into an inflatable raft to be launched down waterfalls. Oh, China. It was terrifying and awesome and was also in the middle of the most beautiful jungle. Hannah and I screamed and laughed and got so so so so wet especially when our raft got stuck under this waterfall and a man with a camera had to pull us out and back on course. I especially liked not being able to see what our next drop looked like when; the biggest falls were always preceded with a dam like area, where you floated lazily until the gentle current pulled you closer to the man with the huge bamboo pool guided your raft to the mouth of an enormous drop. It was incredible. To make it even better, certain sections were bookended by orange groves giving the rain scented air a "Soarin' Over California" twist. To really top things off, on the very last drop the clouds above us poured rain. It was the hardest rainfall I've ever been in and it was awesome. Hannah and I tossed our hands in the air and watched enormous drops plop into the coursing river before we were fished out to board the shuttle back down to the base. 

Again, excuse the photo quality. A picture of a picture can't really capture the whole "I'm having so much fun but I feel like I should have signed some sort of waiver before doing this" face as well as I'd like. 

A hot shower and dinner at West Street (get the banana crumble at the Minority Cafe!) capped off Tuesday's adventure, and only whetted our appetite for what Wednesday held. I skipped out on the bean bread and instead opted for a massive mango breakfast before delving into the real countryside of Yangshuo.  I can't imagine getting sick of this view...ever. The group of us turned down a deserted country path, attempting to get to the area of the river where you can ride bamboo rafts. So off we went. Someone had a speaker hooked up to their bike, playing some Rogue Wave as we pedaled through a postcard. We ended up finding the place, but there would be no rafting today; all of the rain we had enjoyed this week had flooded the river, making it too deep to raft in. In fact, it made the sidewalks too flooded to even bike on, though we did have fun pedaling through calf deep river water. 

I loved the biking and swimming combo, by my red-haired friend was less amused: See photo.

Naturally, the next option is to find a large bridge to jump off of, so we took the path less traveled buy after purchasing fresh flower crowns from a crooked toothed woman and a few spears of pineapple to fuel our biking. Things really got remote from that point. We biked for stretches down windy roads between karsts carpeted with dense greenery. When we did pass through civilization, we quietly coasted through tiny whitewashed villages with tile roofs, where woman on teeny wooden stools shelled peas or did the wash. Traffic consisted of a farmer walking his geese to another flooded rice field, or a pair of oxen lazily waltzing across the bumpy road. 

(I have about 13,304,127 pictures of this place). 

The bike ride had to come to an end, but it was a very happy ending indeed. Mango sorbet riverside and a lunch of egg friend noodles is pretty lovely way to spend the afternoon. Although I would have loved to bike the same route home, we wanted to ride home in the remaining daylight which meant taking the highway. I'm impressed my rented beach cruiser handled the downhill-under-construction-and-bus-studded highways to well- other people's cruisers popped tires and had other difficulties, but eventually we all made it back to West Street for sandwiches (oh, how we have missed sandwiches sans meat floss). I munched on a bowl of fresh cut watermelon while I walked back to the hostel and sorted out plans for tomorrow; we're planning on doing the same itinerary, but this time atop motorbikes. 

Mud Baths.

We had a good run in Guilin, but next on the agenda was Yangshuo, an hour by bumpy bus through the most magical karst formations. Not only are karst formations fun to say, they are also incredibly gorgeous to stare at and make you wonder how nature can be so beautiful. I can't get enough of these so called Dr. Seuss Mountains. The views certainly made the bus ride to go by quickly, and soon we were bombarded by all kinds of shuttle and taxi drivers the minute we arrived in the bus station, all of them wanting to take a group of very tired Americans and their luggage to wherever they needed to go into the small city. Faced with dozens of choices, we obviously, we rode with the man who had the longest hairs growing out of the mole on his neck. I cannot make this stuff up; I would go into further detail but I would risk losing my lunch, which was a feast full of pineapple and these egg crepes I adore, so I'll spare you the details. 

I never was brace enough to eat one of the skewered fish,
but I love those egg crepes sooooo much. 

Mr. Mole got us to the Unique Theme Bamboo Hostel just fine, except for the fact that our hostel was impossible to see from the street because you had to slip down a moss lined alleyway through someone's neighborhood to find it. So yes, it was a short taxi ride but a long hunt to actually find the hostel, but we got there just fine. By the way, the Unique Theme Bamboo Hostel has less bamboo than you would think and more painted murals of minions dressed up as superheroes than you would hope, but that's home for the next week or so. It does, however, allow you to rent bikes for what amounts to be about a dollar fifty for the whole day, so you can bet that was first on the to do list. 

This city was made for biking; wide bike paths parallel the main road that idyllically wind through the jungly countryside, bookended by most magnificent karst formations. It really was perfection to feel that hot humid air float your hair back as you pedal through paradise. We all snagged lunch at a roadside stand where I discovered my Yangshuo staple food; a pastry like crepe that's cooked and slapped on top of an egg that's fried. Wrap it up with wilted lettuce and smear liberally with spicy ketchup and you're golden. Now, adding a spear of freshly cut pineapple or a whole as dessert, and you have the only meal you want to eat for the next 5 days. 

As if riding bikes through an incredibly green and stunning countryside and eating your weight in pineapple and mangoes isn't your idea of fun, stop by mud caves for a swim. Buy tickets from a lady who promises you the local price which includes a tour of the cave, a swim in mud (more details to come) and a soak in the natural hot springs. Yes, please. What wasn't included was the hundreds of pictures everyone took of a bunch of Americans walking around in a cave wearing minimal clothing. We had all dressed in swimsuits, ready to swim in gooey mud, while 99% of everyone else was there to just walk around a cave, so yes. We stood out more than usual. The cave was cool, but the mud was soooooo rad. Obviously you start out by getting completely covered by taking the stone slide. It's a bumpy ride down, but you splash directly into thigh high mud which is the strangest sensation. It was the most bizarre feeling to be swimming in MUD. You sort of floated in the thick and cold sludge while your toes squelched at the bottom. Oh, and it got EVERYWHERE. It was also super fun to just float around in. If you laid on your back, the dense liquid held you up, like a gigantic puddle of thick chocolate pudding. It also made your hair feel crazy thick, and now I wonder if I could recreate the sensation by showering in pudding (an experiment I have yet to try, but I'll keep you all posted). A photographer stayed to get some shots of the group to be purchased afterward, but I think he cut his time short because the mud is very slippery and we were having too much fun splashing it into each other's eyes to be too bothered by a photo session. It was crazy fun to swim in but not so great to shower off. 

This hopefully isn't the closest I get to swimming in actual chocolate (please forgive the photo quality). 

Luckily, our ticket allowed us to soak in the hot springs for as long as we wanted to, which grossly helped get the remainder of the mud off. Those hot springs were magical after the chilly swim in the mud. To top off our day we paid a little extra to soak our feet in kissing fish infested waters. Hands down, the most unique spa day I've ever experienced.

I want this to be my actual life, not just my vacation one. 

The bike ride back was super magical, stopping to snag sugar cane or coconuts as a post-spa snack and gawking at the scenery. It's a good thing these mountains are harder to see at night or I would have kept riding. I made sure to shower off the remaining mud at the hostel before dinner, but I'm pretty sure I'll rubbing off mud for days to come. Dinner was up on West Street, a large, bustling street crammed with shopping and food. There were laser demonstrations and vendors selling octopus on sticks, sesame candies being smashed with hammers, and calligraphy pens that wrote with "disappearing ink". In other words, too many things to take in on an empty stomach. Hannah and I found a little Muslim noodle stand on a neighboring alleyway, and pledged to explore West Street when hanger wasn't quickly approaching. Day one in Yangshuo was a complete success, and I'm already thrilled to see what the rest of this week holds. 

Feet are Fish Food.

The long awaited two week vacation is finally here. I know it sounds like all I do is travel around China, but that's because that is what I do when I'm not teaching. Hard life, I know. We had been sorting out hostels, and flights, and guides, and entrance fees for ages and now the wait was over. A quick flight from Nanjing to Guilin, and I was more than ready to
 start our southern China adventures. Technically, the adventure really started on the plane because China plays these awesome game shows as flight entertainment, so there's that.


We first flew into Guilin at night, giving us the chance to explore the city in the daylight the next morning. There's really nothing more exciting then flying into a new city at night then seeing the streets when you wake up. The brightly neon characters that light up various stores and hotels are now eclipsed by the Dr. Seuss mountains that peak out between buildings. The streets were lined with late start vendors selling black tea eggs and steamed buns, while sleepy shops were yet to open. A walk over a bridge spanning to Li river opened up a view of iconic mountains that frame the city, but the Seven Star Scenic park situation at the end of the bridge was equally fantastic. A huge walkway lines with trees that were all brightly painted with different animals greeted you; everything from pandas, dragons, snails, sea horses, seals...you name it, and it was artfully painted directly onto the trees. We set out to wandering the whole park and found some surprises.

After deciding to head to the scenic outlook, we checked out a set of stairs to see why people were crowded around...the answer? Monkeys. Monkeys just chilling on railways, monkeys hanging out in trees, and monkeys who had claimed a Buddhist worship site in the mountainside as home. Other spectators tossed peanuts, letting the monkey's lazily catch them and shove them greedily in their mouths, while we opted to hand feed the munchie monkeys carrots and apples.  Within 5 minute or so the trees began to shake and more monkeys came out from the leafy forest. It went from cute to pretty frightening; those monkeys get aggressive when the sunflower seeds run out. 


Additional highlights from day one also included hiking around Elephant Trunk Hill, causing a crowd to form around a group of Americans who insisted on making elephant sounds in front of Elephant Trunk hill, and a fabulous lunch. I've realized that money can't buy happiness but food pretty much can. The streets outside the park were lined with vendors and tiny restaurants where you could sit on wooden stools and watch men play Chinese Chess or be mesmerized by the fruit vendors who artfully cut pineapple into intricately carved halves to be sold on sticks. I was playing it a bit safe by ordering what I thought were fried noodles like a chow mien but it ended up receiving long thin noodles in a smooth peanut sauce, topped with scallions. What a happy coincidence, because I could bathe in that peanut sauce and die happy.  A man at the table next to us was delicately folding dumplings with the most beautifully twisted top which soon became the second course while fresh half pineapple made the ideal dessert. Toss in the fact all this cost about 2$ US, and I'm a happy camper. There were *others* that were freaked out that the restaurant we ate at received a "C" grade rating for food safety or what-not, but considering what was eaten for dinner, that little fit becomes hilarious. 

Elephant Trunk Hill, and the Asian pose to match 

After leaving the park, we accidentally we found this market street where a very nice man named Robert wanted to show us his artwork which was gorgeous. I adore those calligraphy style prints of bamboos, rice terraces, and koi fish. The real treat was a little tea ceremony he graciously invited us to, where the Osmanthus tea specific to Guilin was the perfect appetizer to our dinner at the night markets. Robert then pointed us towards the foodie Mecca. The narrow side streets are crammed with stands selling meat on sticks, fried corn, vegetables swimming in spicy sauces, crawfish piled high onto platers, and bamboo steamers stacked too high were filled with every kind of dumpling you could imagine. Dinner was a smorgasbord of tasting anything I could get my hands on: spicy peanut and sesame seasoned potatoes, a crunchy and chewy pita bread liberally smeared with ketchup or some other tangy sweet sauce, and a container (or two) of golden potstickers. The atmosphere was so fun; handing over colorful bills and seeing your food being fried up right in front of your eyes while steam clouded your view of what the vendor across the way was making. The FDA takes all the fun out of food places like this, but I guess they had their reasons. I didn't get sick from anything I ate, but I could have done without seeing the well fed rats that scampered between piles of discarded skewers and styrofoam. Yum. 

This bamboo bridge said no more than 15 people so naturally entire tour groups traversed the shaky structure. 

Saturday was spent meandering the city, but Sunday we had more of a plan. We had signed up to go with a Chinese tour guide to the Longji rice terrance which was an excellent move because I can't understand any Chinese and our guide decided to serenade us partway through the two hour drive. Neat. I didn't need to speak Chinese to see the excessively green mountainsides blur past as the small shuttle hugged hairpin turns, letting scenes from village life whiz by: women washing vegetables from a metal bin and setting out cuts of meat straight on wooden tables to sit in the sun. 

From left to right: tea, fish, tea.

The scenery changes quickly here, with clouds of mist so think you can't see 20 feet in front of you that will suddenly shift to reveals a jaw dropping view in hues of green. We opted to ride the cable car up to the rice terraces which was the best decision of the day: the high viewpoint allowed us to see the sprawling stacks of rice terraces one on top of another. The large pavilion and walkway allowed a stationary view that was hard to really comprehend. The terraces go on seemingly forever which meant spending a lot of time on up of the mountain trying to take it all in. Luckily, a man sells whole passion fruits that are the ideal rice terrace snack. Additional vendors sell crystallized honey (complete with whole combs and buzzing bees) which is delightful when crumbled on the passion fruit. We did, however, have to budget our time because we opted to hike down the terraces to get a closer view. The ground was slippery but the views were stellar. 

(Unreal).

A very beautiful bus ride got us back to the city, where dinner was at our favorite food street. The rat sightings didn't dissuade us from those fried potatoes. Plus, the night's entertainment was just one stop over from the food stands. Dubbed "kissing fish", putting your feet into a tank of fish that are frantically trying to suck the dead skin off your toes is a bit daunting. While cultural, this is not for the ticklish.  There was lots of squirming and squealing because fish were eating the skin off your feet! A mere $3 gets you 20 full minutes of uncomfortable nibbling, though the parlor's sign advertised that "kissing fish will bring you joy, happiness and peace". Ironic. 

To top the night off, be sure to snag a whole mango sliced into long strips before walking the boardwalk to see the Sun and Moon Pagodas...It helps you take your mind off the kissing fish. 

Saffron Corridors

After a long day of adventuring around West Lake, I slept surprisingly well considering the hotel situation picked out for our Chinese Holiday in Hangzhou...Did I not mention the 5 of us shoved the 2 beds together and all slumbered in some sort of franken-megabed? It gets funnier and funnier the longer I think about it especially when you also include the fact the wall was missing from our hallway. That hotel .... Hannah has a life theory about fun that is extremely applicable in this situation; she concludes there are two types of fun in life. Type 1 fun is fun in the moment, the sort of activity that makes you smile when you remember it years later. Type 2 fun is not in the least bit enjoyable but makes a fabulous story worth telling for years. This hotel was definitely a type 2 situation combined with a lesson in humility and gratitude. Though the room wasn't my cup of tea, it was dry, which isn't something everyone can say about where they slept last night. 

The downpour of rain hadn't really let up from last night, meaning it was off to try and dry out at the Silk Museum via city bus Sunday morning. We should have taken the bus ride as a omen. As we were happily whizzing around the streets of Hangzhou, our bus hit a tree when pulling into a stop. Considering the situation, our driver was rather calm about the whole ordeal.  He got out of the bus, checked the damage and we were off again. Just a few moments later, we arrived at the museum to find out it would reopen in July. Time for Plan B. We braved another city bus and got the Lingyin temple for a truly magical afternoon that ended up being way cooler than anticipated. 

Grottoes are my jam. 

The grounds were more like a lush forest made infinitely more beautiful by the dripping rain. What really was unexpected was the network of grottoes dotted with Buddhist carvings dating back from the Tang Dynasty. It was eerie to be in these damp caves seeking shelter from the still leaking clouds, staring at carvings that had seen hundreds of years' worth of history. After seeing the carvings on the inner walls of the caves, we opted to see the ones on the outer rim of the cave which led us up to a viewpoint where you could see the Lingyin temple peeking out from the  greenery. The climb up was made both gorgeous  and treacherous by the rain and twisting vines that obstructed the path. At one point the stairway up creating a mini waterfall due to all the rain. It was magical. 

Lunch was next on our cold and wet agenda- a little ramen spot caught my eye in the sopping food court area down from the mountain. This girl loves noodles and has yet to find a bowl she didn't like. Due to wet socks and shoes, something indoors seemed to be the the vote  but our weathered guide book indicated an early closing time, leading us to explore the temple itself. It meant more time in the rain, but exploring the empty halls of the Buddhist temple was my favorite part of the day. The rain had let up somewhat letting us explore with both hands unimpeded by umbrella. A sloping hill led us to the entrance, where the rainy afternoon had deterred the hordes of tourists, letting Hannah and myself clamor up the windy stone steps to the grand halls. In the hall of the 500 Buddhas in the shape of a svastika, we spent the afternoon picking out which statues most truly reflected each other (and the others in our group). There was a haunting sense of reverence as the temple emptied of the few remaining tourists while the spicy smoke of the incense still burned in the cauldrons below. In a matter of a couple minutes, the only people we could see on the sprawling complex was Hannah and myself. Just as the guards were whistling to close the entrance doors, a group of monks in their tangerine robes made their way up the mossy steps as the gong reverberated the wet saffron colored corridors.

Saffron corridors. 

As a note, be sure to get into the slower moving line when catching the bus. We got in line to board the buses, not sure exactly which line to get in so naturally we chose the fasted moving one. Funnily enough, they have 2 lines for the same bus: one standing line and one sitting line. Here's how it all works: The empty bus pulls up, the sitting line moves forward 25 people or so, depending on how many seats there are on the vehicles. Then the standing line surges ahead, cramming 60 people in at the front. As if that wasn't enough,  the middle bus door comically opens and 12 or so more people are shoved into every possible crevice. Needless to say, it was a stuffy type 2 ride back to the hotel. 

Can you spot the American?  

A Holiday in Hangzhou

The train to Hangzhou was  quick, just a touch over an hour or so through some gorgeous scenery. Monday was a Chinese holiday, meaning we could make the most of a jaunt down south to the scenic city for a long weekend. Also, it being spring, China is in bloom, particularly with these yellow plants that grow in blankets all over the countryside. It really made me want to see more spring, specifically at a lake side city. Most of the train ride from Nanjing to Hangzhou was rather scenic, with little pockets of river towns where you can see fisherman wading through the canals with white houses and black shingled roofs in the background.  China is really beautiful. 

Boats and blooms. 

Turns out hordes of China also had the same idea to see areas of beautiful China...After wading through the crowds in the metro station, we caught a bustling train to West Lake where thousands of people were enjoying the picturesque scene. Part of being in China is handling crowds, so I learned to embrace it early on in the trip because the lake front is magical and is not to be distracted from by crowds of people. A man was writing characters in water with a sponge brush while tourists dressed up in anciently traditional costume to pose by the lake (Hannah being one of theme) while the willows drooped bright green strands of leaves over the pathways, and oriole birds chirped wildly. It's gorgeous. Lunch was picturesque too; I hated to leave the lakeside just to eat so corn-on-the-cob (China is obsessed with corn, they even juice it. I'll try to bring back some corn juice for those interested) and those strange banana leaf pyramids that are filled with a very sticky seasoned rice made up the afternoon meal.

I also knew I wanted to ride bikes around the lake today, which meant finding an alleyway for someone who did private bike rentals for the day. With an exchange of some yuan, and no identification check, no helmets, no insurance and we were off. China, am I right? I had the idea of riding around the lake on the cool little pathways, but that's not allowed. As it turns out you can only ride on certain pathways ringing the lake meaning you needed to maneuver the main road until you got to those sections. When in China, be sure to join the chaotic cacophony of traffic that includes willy nilly taxis, buses that will stop to let off hordes of people in the middle of the "bike" lane and motorbikes piled high with people who beep their way through the masses. Toss in some Americans riding wobbly to unknown locations and it's a fun time. Really though, it seems like a crazy idea to let someone with little directional ability in a country where traffic laws seem obsolete and let them bike around town.

My face is priceless that but that's only because I couldn't capture the look of terror on the passerbys as I biked past. 

In all honestly, it was only terrifying for the few first minutes then you learn how to handle the traffic. The most upsetting part was the throngs of all of China that descended on the lake area today. It really was a reminder that China has a population of a billion people because I think about half of the country was in Hangzhou that day. 

We stopped at a few places  around the lake but were concerned about returning our bikes in time so we didn't stay too long. I did love seeing a pond filled with vibrantly bright orange fish and blitzing passed the Leifang Pagoda  but the definite highlight was biking through the causeway crowds. The trick was to get right behind the tourist golf carts; if you missed your window you were stuck ringing your weak sauce bike bell at the crowds, trying to get through. The causeways were gorgeous though and worth the fight. The weather made the lake really hazy and foggy but you could still see narrow rose boats row lazily under bridges as you biked by.

West Lake bridges 

Miraculously, we found the bike return on time and made it out alive; a man met us on the corner and ran us over to an underground parking structure where we returned the bikes. Luckily there was a Muslim noodle house that made the ideal dinner then watched tai chi by the lake till the bats came out.  Next up was Wushan street where the clothes and knock off wallets weren't stellar, but I loved seeing the wares of the food vendors. Trays of oysters on the half shell, bins of seasoned crawfish or cream colored tiny and tall mushrooms wrapped in beef were ready to slapped on a grill made for quite the scene. 

China eats it all. 

Tired and ready for bed, our adventure in Hangzhou was not over yet. It was pouring rain on the walk from the metro to the hotel, thunder clapping and lightning flashing kinda rain. I made a joke about our hotel being on the left in a haphazard construction zone...but it turns out I was right. After wading through puddles and climbing over rubble, a mattress, and pools of mud, hearing dogs bark in the distance and dodging people who were transporting strange cargo, we made it to the Lotour 99 Inn. A hotel with sheets on the stairs, curling wallpaper and my personal favorite: the lack of a wall on the 3rd floor. Yes, the wall outside of our hallway was still under construction. To make it better, the five of us pushed the 2 beds together and snuggled up close, stuffing all 5 of us onto some haphazardly made king bed. Welcome to the gem of the east.