Songpan - poor horses

Chengdu is like the bulls eye in the dartboard of attractions of the Sichuan Province. There was a lot to choose from but after being in the country for a month we had learnt how best to decide on what to do. Find out where the Chinese are going and avoid that. The town of Songpan was our choice and we joined a 3 day horse trek to Ice Mountain.

The company we went with is called Happy Horse Treks but this is very misleading. The horses most certainly are not happy! The only happy things are the guides. We were joined by 4 South Koreans which didn't concern us too much initially. By the end of the trip we were ready to throw them along with our guides over the edge of 1 of the nastiest cliffs. This might sound a bit harsh but let me explain. I'll talk about all the bad stuff first and end off with why we would do the trip again.

Lets start with the guides. There were 6 of them, probably aged somewhere between 20 and 60, all chain smokers and with a remarkable hatred for all forms of animal life. Every opportunity they got they would ride up and whip your horse and it only took 2 occasions to take Jacks over the edge. We were half way up a big mountain and I was just thinking how amazing the horses were when 1 of the prick guides trotted up behind Jacks and whacked her horse. She got off and walked the rest of the way up and I told all of the guides, in no uncertain terms, that if any of them touched our horses again I would whip them. They listened to me but their behaviour remained disgusting. They would be riding along on their terrified horses, drinking beers and littering as much as possible. We'd round a bend and come across a beautiful scene with yaks feeding on a slope and just as we were about to smile one of the guides would scream off on his horse and reek havoc with the scene, chasing yaks and throwing rocks. They would perform similar acts with all animals encountered and we refuse to accept that anyone would describe this as normal behaviour. I avoided all contact with the pricks and would have rather camped with the yaks.

So, we had 6 bad guides, surely the trip couldn't get any worse. WRONG! Our 4 Koreans were a complete nightmare and for some reason thought they were starring in a psycho cowboy horror movie. They shared the guides attitudes to animals and seemed to be equally set on scattering as much litter as possible. You might ask what is the difference between South Africans and South Koreans. This might assist in forming your own picture. The last leg of the trek, that took us up a very steep slope to 4300m above sea level in the freezing cold required a huge effort from the horses. Jacks and myself decided at the halfway point that they'd done enough and jumped off. We sent them back down and walked the rest of the way. As we neared the top we looked up and saw 1 of the Koreans whipping his horse like there was no tomorrow. What a man!

I know that sounds like a lot of bad stuff but Jacks and myself have become quite good at focusing on the good and we'd still say the trek was amazing. Our horses were unbelievable and the mountains were as beautiful as any we've seen. Riding peacefully along the edge of a valley, with the sun warming our chilled bodies was an unforgettable experience and 1 that we would recommend. If at all possible, take your own horse and go it alone.

Chengdu

Our hostel in Chengdu was just what the doctor ordered. With amazingly soft beds, the best showers in the country, cheap beers, a DVD player in our room and some seriously good food, we spent our first day floating around in a blurred music video.

We ventured out of our peaceful sanctuary on day 2, exploring the shops in town and a monastery with a buzzing tea house. Later that evening, with our Chinese friends in tow, we walked off to a hotpot restaurant and celebrated the fact that we were still alive by trying to kill ourselves with the hottest hotpot imaginable.

THE TRAIN

If travelling overland from Lijiang to Chengdu was a like fighting Mike Tyson, the leg from Lugu Lake was like the uppercut that takes more than just your breath away. We started fairly early catching a taxi to a nearby town because we'd told that's where we had to catch the bus. We arrived way to early and had to wait about 3 hours. The bus arrived and the only available seats we right at the back between a nauseous Mosu woman and a porky couple. We pulled away from the village and drove around 30 minutes, stopping at the village we'd spent the night in and left about 4 hours earlier to catch the bus. The journey could only be compared with riding one of those machine bronco bulls and we hit new heights with vomit stats. The little puke bags had filled the bins so by the end of the trip the passage way was dotted with serious obstacles. If you add to that the fact that majority of the passengers chain smoke, you really find yourself in a situation that requires the patience of a saint.

After the 8 hour bus ride we arrived in Xichang, only around half way to our intended destination. We'd met a young Chinese couple on the bus and after hearing that they were intending to catch the overnight train we decided to tag along. We caught a bus to the train station and waited in 'line' at the ticket desk. We got to the front and found out that there were no more tickets. We bought what I thought was tickets for the next day but later realised that we'd managed to secure standing tickets for the 10pm train. Yes, you read correctly, standing tickets for an overnight train. What we found out 15 minutes later was that the Friday 10pm train from Xichang to Chengdu is one of the busiest and roughest in all of China. The extent of the problem truly dawned on us while standing on a full platform, watching a full train arrive. The next 10 minutes was somewhere in between a ruck and a street brawl and somehow we managed to get onto one of the carriages. The passengers assumed that their evening entertainment had just arrived and our every move was scrutinized by what felt like a thousand eyes. We squeezed our luggage up onto the full racks and stood in the aisle with our 2 equally concerned Chinese friends. I have no idea how it happened but a while later all 4 of us were sharing seats with complete strangers. One group even offered us beers and dinner. We felt a lot happier to be sitting but my right bum cheek refused to believe that it had to spend the whole night hanging in space.

About an hour later, a female ticket officer passed through our carriage and approached us. She spoke not a word of English but thanks to some interpretation we were told that Jackie and myself could move to the soft sleeper carriage and find some seats. We said that we were OK, not really wanting any special attention and unhappy with the idea of leaving our friends behind. She then said that she wasn't asking us, because of safety issues we were not allowed to remain in cattle class. We were the only foreigners on the train and therefore had to be locked in the soft sleeper section. We reluctantly moved and found 2 tiny seats in the dark and silent carriage. We managed to get a few hours sleep in a position very similar to the inverted yak in yoga and hobbled off the train just before 9am. We found our friends and our luggage and 23 hours after leaving Lugu arrived at our hostel in Chengdu.

Lugu Lake

Instead of flying from Lijiang to Chengdu we decided to explore the overland route. We hopped on a bus with an excitable bunch of Chinese tourists and some time later arrived in the little village of Lige, located on the beautiful Lugu Lake.

The lakes leading tourist attraction is paying quite a bit of money to squash onto a small boat with too many people and having an old woman paddle you off to a uncomfortably distant island. We were shaking with joy at the idea but managed to restrain ourselves and decided on a peaceful walk instead. One of the highlights of travelling in China (or biggest frustrations) is getting to grips with the way they do things. They constantly shock by doing exactly the opposite of what you'd expect. Even though they live in a country that is crammed full of people (with something like a sixth of the world's population) their only wish while travelling is to visit places that are crammed full of people!

The interesting thing about the lake is that the main ethnic group of the area, the Mosu, are one of the last remaining matriarchal systems in the world. In simple terms this means that the women run the show, sitting around smoking and drinking beers and telling their men (plural) which field to tend or child to watch.

Deqin - as close to Tibet as we're going to get

Our first experience of China flexing it's military muscles was in Gyalthang (Shangri-la) where daily marches and displays interrupted traffic. The closer we got to Tibet the more the authorities attention turned to the tourists. On a long bus ride to Deqin our bus was stopped twice and us and our passports received a thorough looking over.

Deqin is more Tibetan than Lhasa with around 80% of it's inhabitants having origins in the vanishing country. I'm not sure why China is so worried about keeping tourists away because all we came across was locals going about their daily duties in a very vocal and cheerful way. On a walk into the valley below the village we were staying in we passed through a few small villages, receiving the usual surprised looks and excited greetings (Haro!). The fields were rich with colour with green rice and pink cherry blossoms but even more beautiful were the voices of the ladies harvesting, with wonderful songs echoing through the hills.

The area is made for walking with huge mountains and yak trails cutting across every slope. The monstrous Kawa Karpo mountain looms mightily over the tiny village of Felaisi and even though we could only just make out the Mingyong Glacier and a couple of the lower peaks our walk was worthwhile. Walking another hour along the road, that connects China and Tibet, we rounded a bend and looked down upon the Mekong River, a bit more like a stream at this stage but destined for big things further south.

Shangri-la

Zhondian (in Chinese), Shangri-La (it's exotic and famous name) and Gyalthang (it's Tibetan name and the name which we choose to know it as), sits at around 3300m asl in a cold and fairly bleak environment dominated by snowy mountains and the Tibetan Songzanlin Monastery. The old and new towns are worth exploring and we enjoyed the fact that even though a lot of locals make a living out of tourists (which souvenir shops etc.) they still carry on regardless. They dance in the main square every evening because they enjoy it and their lounge and dining rooms (and occasionally toilets) are the streets.

As we drove into town we saw a yak in real life for the first time. What I found funny was that by lunch the next day I had eaten a yak curry, had yak yoghurt and sipped on yak butter tea. I'd have to say that all 3 were fantastic but that some might find the tea a tad too salty. We bumped into a guy we'd met earlier in Dali and through him ended up at a party that turned into the highlight of our time in the area. Most of the guests were Tibetan but there were a few Chinese, 4 Thai, 2 Americans and Jacks and myself. The Tibetan wine, that I would describe as being rice wine on roids, was flowing freely and everyone started singing songs of their specific regions. What all of a sudden hit us, even stronger than the wine, was the fact that we'd be required to sing a South African song. We decided on the national anthem and that 1 of us should sing because of our different versions (and words) and due to me having had more wine it became my responsibility. Somehow I managed to pull it off and the crowd went wild. Ten minutes later Jacks was teaching everyone line dancing and the rest is history. The story of the party will bring smiles for a long time.

Tiger Leaping Gorge

After travelling 3 hours from Lijiang, to the town of Qiatou, we set off on a trek through the magnificent Tiger Leaping Gorge.

We walked for around 3 hours the first afternoon, putting some distance between ourselves and the chasing pack, made up of 15 other trekkers and 5 lazy horse riders. We settled into the Tea Horse Guest House for the night and set off early the next morning. With the best views of the gorge and the morning sun beaming between the peaks we continued down to Tina's Guest House and then to the Middle Gorge, which gives you a better appreciation of the power of the water and the immense landscape. It's also the spot where the legendary tiger apparently lept across the gorge.

What both amazes and saddens us is that the gorge may be gone in a few years time. The Chinese government has put forward plans to construct 8 dams in the area that will not only wipe out 1 of China's most awesome natural attractions but also force more than 100,000 people to relocate and wash away their farms, homes, culture and history.

Lijiang - full of preservatives

There is an old Chinese saying that I haven't a clue how to say or write in Chinese but translated into English it means 'an old wine in a new bottle'. I'm not sure if they were talking about Lijiang when they first started using it but it definitely sums up the place really well.

It is without a doubt worth a visit, especially if you manage to avoid the crowds, at around 7 in the morning. There are more souvenir shops than even the Chinese mobs now what to do with and there is a street that runs along a canal that is home to what must be more than 200 restaurants and bars, all doing their best in their own special ways to attract customers. We found a karaoke singing bartender highly entertaining.

The hostel we stayed at fitted well into the chaos and was an absolute madhouse. The 'mama' in charge spent the entire day shouting at people and she seemed more interested in curing or preventing illnesses in her terrified guests than actually running the place.

One thing that really ticked us off was the Lijiang old town preservation fee (LOTPF) that you have to pay at every site around town. We refused because the only thing being preserved by the fund, in our opinion, is the pot-bellies of the politicians in power.

We cycled 1 hour north of Lijiang towards the beautiful Jade Dragon Snow mountain and visited the small village of Baisha. About half an hour further north, in the foothills, we had a free argument with 4 idiots in uniform at the Jade Dragon Summit Temple, where you have to pay 25RMB entrance and the 80RMB LOTPF. After having spent a few weeks in China we accept that these sorts of arguments are part of the experience but they remain intensely frustrating. They really need to initiate common sense classes at school.

Shaxi

Shaxi was once a very important market town on the Tea and Horse Trail that linked Tibet and India with South East Asia and saw goods like tea, salt, horses, hides and medicinal products being traded. We'd never heard or read about the place before but the owner of the Higherland Inn said that we had to see it.

Getting there is an adventure in itself and probably the main reason for it being well off the Chinese tourist radar. It's a 3 hour bus ride from Dali and then a cramped 40 minute minibus trip along a ridiculously bumpy mountain road. There was a lot to look at along the way but the first for us was a new form of motion sickness treatment. It seems to be in the preliminary stages of testing but goes something like this:

1. Experience feelings of nausea
   
2. Peel and eat a large orange
   
3. Shove large pieces of the peel as far up each nostril as possible
   
4. Breathe deeply through your nose

Even though the technique's conclusion was the polar opposite of the intention, it's visual impact was outstanding.

Shaxi is a quaint traditional village set in a beautiful agricultural valley of buffalo's, bright yellow rape and Bai women engaged in a mix of foraging and farming. The people were all amazingly friendly and even though we tried to stop him, the owner of our guesthouse (Ou Yang) treated us as if we were foreign dignitaries. His niece visited us on our last evening and while Jackie and her engaged in English and Chinese lessons I got an impromptu but surprisingly formal cooking lesson.

Dali

The old city of Dali was a far cry from the peace of our mountain lair. It has a definite international backpacking air about it but the overwhelming presence is the hoards of Chinese tourists packing it's cobbled streets and souvenir stores. We enjoyed our brief walk through the the city but couldn't help feeling thrilled that we could escape into the mountains.

The Higherland Inn

On the recommendation of an American chap we met in the visa cue in Hong Kong, we travelled from Kunming to Dali in search of the Higherland Inn. Shortly after arriving we walked away from the old city walls, losing ourselves briefly in some farmland at the base of the mountains, but eventually finding a chairlift that took us up to the Zhonge Temple. Fifteen minutes later we had found the Inn, where we happily spent the next 3 days.

The Inn is 2600m asl in a forest on the Cang Mountain Range, overlooking Dali and Erhai Lake. It has only 6 rooms and is about as homely as it's possible to get, with warm fires and communal family dinners. The fantastic thing about the place is the many hiking options at your doorstep with a 'cloudy tourist path' that runs just below you, around 4km north and 10km south. It was built by the locals and is a perfectly paved walkway that at times clings desperately to edge of some scary canyons but mostly winds it's way gently along the beautiful mountainside. We warmed up with 2 days on the cloudy track but challenged ourselves the next by trekking up a steep trail in the direction of a 4100m summit. The weather was perfect and after an hour climbing through forest we emerged below a rocky ridge and climbed along it for another hour to around 3600m asl. The mountain ahead was white with snow and after giving it our best shot (which involved some amateur ice skating) we decided that it would be safer to turn back.

We'd give the Higherland a score of 10/10 for the people, the food and the most amazing of settings.

Kunming

All because of the struggle to free Tibet our plans to catch the train from Beijing to Lhasa were not possible. We flew to Kunming instead and spent 2 days in 1 of China's smaller cities - not. This gave us the chance to work on getting from A-B and also absorbing a bit of Chinese culture.

In the morning, every open space fills with people exercising, in the form of Tai Chi, waltzing and the latest trend of disco dancing. We found Green Park on our first evening and sat down on a bench near the water. Small informal gatherings were performing their preferred choice of music from the traditional and slightly painful Chinese opera to the upbeat sounds of a big brass band.

We decided to spend our second day away from the concrete and travelled to the Western Hills or Xi Shan. Our idea of getting away from the crowds was ruined by a procession of Chinese tour buses that beat us to it. It seems that Xi Shan is a very famous and sacred mountain but we still managed to find a quiet path under the chair lift to the Dragon's Gate and the zigzagging tunnels of the cliff face.

While walking along the main shopping street we came across something that made us stop in our tracks. Outside of most of the clothing stores was a line of shop attendants clapping loudly in a cheap but bizarre form of marketing.