Our tour agent described this trip today as a leisurely cruise down the Li river from Guilin to Yangshuo.
About an hour after leaving the hotel we arrive at a port where there are thousands of people waiting for the boats. There is a large ticket office, which we proceed through. There then follows a line of hawkers selling unidentifiable foodstuffs, fruit, clothing and children’s toys. There are twelve piers, each with four boats moored alongside. We are at pier four at the far end which is a long walk. It also means we are among the last boats to depart. We carry our packed lunches prepared by the hotel which are in well engineered manila paper bags (with a tamper proof Velcro seal). I am tempted to open the bag to examine the contents, but am prevented from doing so by my companion. We sit at a table on the boat and are joined by another British couple. These are the people whose table we sat at and whose dinner we nearly had served to us. Vince and Lynne are accompanied by their guide Mo, the one I spoke to on the phone the night before. I introduce myself and explain what happened to Mo and Maggie amid some laughter.
Tea is brought and served and we cast off. There are approximately one hundred tourists on the boat, plus guides and staff. The majority are Chinese, but there are some Europeans and a family from Argentina. After a quick introduction to what we are to see, Maggie prompts us to go up to the top deck. Here there is a flat deck offering panoramic views of the countryside around. The imposing limestone outcrops rise up from the valley floor. Patterns in the rock have been given names by the locals, a lot seem to have to do with horses. When asked if I can see them I confirm that I can, but to be honest all I can see is a bit of rock. That side of my brain is not very powerful I have informed before. There are forests of bamboo on either side of the boat. Often there are herds of water buffalo grazing on lush grass, their work on the rice fields done for the year they rest until after the harvest. On the hills here and there are clearings with orchards of kumquat. Maggie explains that the number of orchards and the price of the fruit has increased as it is believed that the fruit is good for the lungs, and people from polluted cities are buying up the fruit in an effort to ward off ill health.
We remain on the top deck for over two hours. All the way down the river the sound of firecrackers echoes through the valley floor, an eerie soundtrack to our trip. For a good portion of that time we are employed by the locals as photographic extras. I am pressganged by three young ladies into joining them for selfies. My companion photo bombs one picture and is then passed from group to group of older ladies with much laughter, hand shaking and hugging. They seem very appreciative to have their picture taken with foreigners. When we return to the guides for our picnic (not much to write about, the packaging was superb though) Maggie tells us that the foreigners used to be segregated but as tourism is expanding and the tolerance of others is increasing this no longer happens.
As we approach the destination there is a large number of small river rafts ferrying people up and down the river powered by two stroke engines with propellers at the end of a long drive shaft. Like a petrol powered strimmer in a way. The rafts are made of polypropylene tubes shaped to resemble the bamboo. We dock at Yangshuo now with the majority of the boats that left Guilin this morning seeming to arrive at the same time. On dry land we climb over broken stone steps and pass through a bustling market area with hoarders of others. The atmosphere here is hot and humid, rather unpleasant. Maggie is striding along the road and points out places of interest, including one particular restaurant that caught my eye on TripAdvisor. We reach the hotel after about an hours walk. We check in and see our luggage the other side of the lobby having safely been brought down from Guilin by the driver. We make arrangements with Maggie to meet up again on Monday evening. She tells us that she is down here at our disposal for two nights also. We do feel guilty that we are keeping her away from her family, as all we really need her for is to pick up tickets for a show in the evening.
After cleaning up and changing we are out again for dinner off to the restaurant Maggie showed us. After taking a slight detour (we got lost) we arrive and are escorted to our table and provided with a menu, a piece of paper with unclear pictures, no English. To be honest we struggle. We look around at other tables and see plenty that tempts us, but can’t find it on the menu. We try to explain to our young waiter by pointing, but we are not getting very far. He gets on his intercom and shortly after a young lady appears with a bit of English and we manage to get food ordered. The waiter returns with an egg timer set to run out after twenty eight minutes. We don’t know the significance and wonder whether we get the meal for free if the egg timer runs out before the food arrives. Our choices are splendid. We have half a roast goose cut into chunks with a dipping sauce, absolutely superb. I have spicy lamb ribs, my fellow traveller opted for fried shrimp all accompanied by a bowl of superb succulent salad greens. We think they may be from a cucumber type plant judging by the hairy stems.
On the way back to the hotel after dinner we stroll down West street and take some pictures. The place has come alive now the sun has gone down.
Wifi is still not good here, so will have a lot of pictures to upload when i can get connected !