Up early again, with my fellow traveller feeling the need to get some tai chi energy into her body at the early hour of 6:45. At least there is free coffee available. I come along to take some pictures and video for reference purposes when we return home. The early morning sun is streaming through the windows of the bar now, and the small cohort of ladies pose and move under the instructions of Chinese medicine expert Mr. Xu.
We catch up with our table mates and get them up to speed of the events of last night in trying to get rid of the Chinese white spirit. Jim sees another bottle of the same liquor at the breakfast buffet area and asks jokingly whether I want another. The boat now docks for an excursion to the White Emperor City but we remain on board. After breakfast we go to the lounge, my fellow traveller is writing her journal and painting, I am reading my book. We leave here and head outside the bar to the walkway which has an uninterrupted view ready for our entrance into the first of the three gorges, the Qutang Gorge. We are alone here at first and pull up two chairs to sit next to the railing. As the boat is pointing upstream in the shade my companion returns to the cabin to retrieve her blanket. A group of Americans arrive, a reunion trip for ex Brown’s University graduates, and takes most of the seats on our right, leaving two to our left. We assure them that we are sitting in the correct position, the ship will turn and face downstream, with the sun on us when we leave the dock. Another American lady in red velour trousers and top arrives and enquiries whether the seats are free, we confirm they are. She has a cup of tea in her hand and as she sits I notice she is mumbling away at it. She then begins a long conversation with herself and seems to get a little agitated.
After we progress through the gorge lunch is served. We have a Lazy Susan in front of us ready for tonight’s Farewell Banquet. I have to resist the temptation to spin it around and create forces great enough to eject the salt and pepper shaker. My companion may have to tie my hands tonight after a glass or two of wine.
We leave lunch, and the second gorge is coming into view. This is the Wu Gorge, a little less spectacular than this morning’s gorge but possibly a little more picturesque. Our places from this morning now lost we split up. I take up station next to my morning chair, my fellow traveller goes to the deck above to get some sun. Our river guide Andy gives us a running commentary with plenty of facts and figures and with some attempted jokes thrown in for good measure. We do hear a lot about the forced migration of the people who lived in the Yangtz river valley when the dam was built and the lands flooded. Some of the people were moved as far away as Shanghai. We pass one city of six hundred thousand people that bears the same name as its predecessor but has moved up the mountainside. There is new development all around us above the new water level. On the hills either side of the gorges there is evidence of coal mining. Storage pits hang on the mountainside with lorries dumping their loads of coal into the pits. Boats then come along, open the trap door and the coal fills up their holds. The volume of cargo being carried up and down this river is astounding. Bulk materials seem to be the largest sector of goods being carried. Notably I have spotted only one container transport, presumably carrying luxury goods from Europe up the river to Chongqing.
We make another scheduled stop at the Goddess Stream now, and transfer to small junks for the trip up a narrow canyon. There is a long walk over connecting barges to the awaiting vessels. We are in a small group of English speakers. We are welcomed by our guide, Apple, who appears rather young and comes from the local minority people. From the start of her presentation she seems to be making eye contact with me. She also directs the majority of questions in my direction, but some of what she says completely escapes me. Many times I respond with completely the wrong answer. We disembark at a point half way up the gorge, I am not quite sure why. There is a performance going on by the other guides signing in Chinese and loudly amplified. This is rather incongruous given the serenity of the location itself. It seems as though most of the time the local people are not able to do anything without making a racket. We process further up the stream now towards a peak called the Moon Rock. There is evidence of hanging graves on the sheer cliffs. These graves were created by the local ethnic peoples suspending wooden coffins on the side of the mountain. Many remained until the flooding of the Yangtze when they were removed and placed in museums. I make a note of the web site for this particular attraction,
We return to he ship now for a freshen up before dinner. Tonight is the farewell banquet.
Up to the bar for a swift gin and tonic before dinner we meet up with the British couples again. And drinks finished we troop off to our table together. Dinner is a hoot, much hilarity over discussions about strange food, Chinese behaviour, and birthdays. When asked my age I state that I am now sixty and harmless. This causes fits of laughter all around the table. My fellow traveller is in tears next to me. During dinner the cruise director, the German lady, advises that all our packing must be done tonight as we are off the boat at half pas seven in the morning. This deflates the atmoshpere for a while, but turns to amusement again when we all are confused with the arrangements and cost connected with putting labels on our luggage which does not accompany us to our ultimate land based destination.
After dinner we spend a while at a “cabaret” put together by the ship’s company. Quite entertaining. I get angry when a member of the crew performs a harmonica solo and our fellow Chinese guests do not give him the courtesy of a little quiet. It is the same when the tour guide gives his little chats in English, he is accompanied by constant chatter. There is a performance by a face changer, a dancer who changes faces a number of times whilst dancing. We think it must be layers of painted paper ripped of during the performance. Some of the young lads do a lion dance. There is a magician who makes a fool of a stooge from the audience. Wait a minute, isn’t that the face changing lady. It surely is, Coco our cabin stewardess. After her performance we go off to pack, swerving any temptation to partake of another gin and tonic. Confusion reigns when I attempt to obtain the luggage transfer labels, the only person on the front desk now is unable to speak much English so I will wait until morning.
Packing done, we set the alarm for five o’clock.