GUANGXI 5: GUILIN TO XINGPING

I set my alarm for 8.30 am and have a lie-in before checking my emails over some coffee and fruit, followed by a shower and a careful session packing my cases. I take my time as the train leaves for Yangshuo at 12.30 so I plan to check out at 10.30 and order a taxi to the railway station. The hotel lady is happy to organise this and as always I'm dubious about setting off so early, however I know what Chinese railway stations are like so I'd rather hang about than panic that I might miss the train. I've booked a first-class seat for the 24-minute journey. In the taxi I typically worry myself that I've forgotten something but of course this turns out to be unwarranted. 

The wait for the train at Guilin station is as normal: the interminable wait for the gate to open, huge lines, and Chinese ladies walking to the front of the queue. On board the train I feel a mounting sense of anticipation as the landscape begins to change, becoming more dramatic and mysterious looking, reminding me of HP Lovecraft's Arkham stories especially as the thrice-accursed fog persists even now limiting the view. The hills become steeper and obelisk-like as we pass, and we go through a number of tunnels so we must be passing through some of the hills. 

On arrival at Yangshuo station there are no taxis, just a line of mini-buses to Xingping for RMB5, which is as cheap as anything so I jump on to one of these with my bags. I'm unsure about how to get to the hostel once we arrive however I overhear a Chinese traveller talking in English to two Spanish ladies: they're all going to the same place so I ask to tag along. As it turns out he doesn't seem too sure of how to get there himself so I produce the address printed in Chinese and ask directions. It turns out to be further away than expected: Chinese signs displaying distances seem generally to understate these.

On arrival at the hostel an embarrassing scene takes place. I've called in advance to check they will take my VISA card and been told they will. This turns out not to be the case and I'm very unhappy, clearly someone has misunderstood me. I should have asked a Chinese friend to check for me. I ask the staff to show me where the bank is and one of the girls at the desk takes me to two banks in the town but they won't take my VISA card. And the nearest bank that will is in Yangshuo. Feeling tired and overwhelmed I persuade them to check me in and arrange to go to Yangshuo the next day to draw out the sum in cash: about RMB 3000 for 18 days. As I haven't got such a sum with me. I'm also hungry so have a pizza in the hostel once checked in; it's very good as they actually make it in a wood-fired pizza oven, traditional Italian style. (This turns out to be a local speciality.)

Feeling more relaxed I unpack in my room, which is clean if rather basic. But at only £12 a night it's a lot cheaper than a YHA in England so I have no complaints. I decide to go out and try to find another bank by myself: the weather is now much milder than in Beijing, like a wintry day in England and I don't need so many layers on me. Walking out I explore the area and find a branch of Agricultural Bank of China which to my surprise, has a VISA sign on it, so I draw out the much-needed cash and complete the transaction for my stay.

The limestone peaks around Xingping have a prehistoric feel about them: I have associations with Jurassic Park and the Lost World, but also with the Lake District and the Derbyshire Hills in England. At last I begin to feel I have arrived at my destination and begin to relax. 

Xingping itself is actually rather disappointing. It's being developed into a tourist centre and there are hotels being built everywhere so at present the view from the hostel is spoiled, but will be obliterated in a few months' time. Fortunately there is a rooftop viewing area and bar area which is good for photography.

 The limestone peaks around Xingping have a prehistoric feel about them: I have associations with Jurassic Park and the Lost World, but also with the Lake District and the Derbyshire Hills in England. 

At last I begin to feel I have arrived at my destination and begin to relax. Xingping itself is actually rather disappointing. It's being developed into a tourist centre and there are hotels being built everywhere so at present the view from the hostel is spoiled, but will be obliterated in a few months' time. Fortunately there is a rooftop viewing area and bar area which is good for photography. I write up an account of the previous day and go down to the hostel bar where I have a second pizza as I'm too tired to go anywhere else, and end up talking to some other guests: one is the Chinese gentleman from the bus: (he is rather over-talkative but pleasant) and another is an Englishman from Worcestershire as I recall. The girl from the desk who took me to the bank comes in: I chat to her, thank her for her help and explain that I've managed to resolve the earlier problem, so she seems happy. I've never felt comfortable with attacking people over a mistake: it doesn't work. So after a few bottles of Chinese beer I walk back to my room planning to spend the next day relaxing and getting my bearings, always a good idea on or after the day of arrival. Although this has been a relatively short stage of the journey it has been fraught with uncertainties and difficulties, and I'm exhausted.

Just how exhausted becomes clear when I set my alarm for 8am, and go to bed at about 11. I have a fitful night and wake once or twice, but essentially I sleep over more or less 9 hours and feel drowsy when my alarm goes off. I think this is partly due to emotional exhaustion. I have some breakfast of fruit and waffles in the hostel cafe and decide to explore Xingping. The landscape is inspiring and I'm still hoping for some fine weather to bring out the best of it. It also lends itself to fantasy and once again I am reminded of Rider Haggard and Conan Doyle.

The voyage has been long and not without its moments. The hostel is pleasant with a rustic feel and tastefully decorated, although it is a backpacker hostel and I tend to find such people tiresome. I'm sure I'll find convivial company, probably among the Chinese at some stage. I usually do. 

There are a number of small restaurants around the area and plenty of opportunities to try different kinds of Chinese food: beer fish and sour fish are two specialities: they also offer wood-fired pizzas in many places. The area has an atavistic quality which I hope to explore more. I want to penetrate it and rediscover the sense of wonder I had as a boy. 

I do have one opportunity to do this when when I get the chance to join cormorant fishermen on the Lijiang River at night: it has a magically atmospheric quality and is cloaked in a peaceful and powerfully evocative silence.However I resolve to try a number of other ways of exploring the area by walking, cycling and by boat.

GUANGXI 4: GUILIN

The next morning the drizzle continues and the sky is still a uniform dull grey: I begin to feel depressed as I try to imagine what I'm going to do if this persists during the entire stay in Guangxi. I've brought some instant coffee with me as Chinese hotels tend to have only tea in the rooms so I make myself a cup while I set about unpacking a few clothes and setting up the internet connection on my PC. The connection is good and I can continue writing. I've slept well and feel refreshed after yesterday's long trip, and I have a couple of days to organise the last stage, the transfer to Xingping Village, where I'm staying until the journey back, so I hope to relax and explore the area. In search of breakfast I walk out of the hotel and soon find a roadside stall selling baozi so I buy 4  of these and some strawberries and apples, which I bring back to the room. I should by now however have learned not to buy strawberries in China except from a supermarket: they turn out to be in the turning stage, very soft and mushy so I can only eat a few and have to discard the rest. I spend the morning writing about my time in Beijing.

My plan today is to try and organise the journey to Xingping, within the Yangshuo valley. I hope to take a boat along the river so need to ask the hotel about this as they provide a few tours and river cruises. I feel it will give the voyage more of an expeditionary feel. Over lunchtime I go out to the area I visited last night: Guilin itself is a drab and dull town: a characteristic only enhanced by the dreary weather hanging over the area.

It's hard to believe that it's so popular with tourists, however no doubt the weather is affecting my mood. The outdoor market is closed and many of the restaurants with it, so an air of dreary mediocrity pervades the area and the pavement is slippery in the wet. I come close to falling over a number of times. At one stage I narrowly escape serious injury as while walking through the pedestrianised market area I pass a stationary van which suddenly backs up and collides with me nearly knocking me over! I shout “F**K!” as I'm pretty scared and fortunately the vehicle stops. A bemused Chinese driver gets out and I point to my eyes saying “Look!” before walking off: I guess they are relieved no-one was actually hurt. A traffic warden walks up and I hear some kind of heated exchange as I go on my way, promising myself to remember that I'm not in England.

I walk around the indoor food market and where one or two hawkers toutishly wave at me and try to cajole me into sitting in their stalls. I'm used to this kind of thing and just walk on however I do like the look of their food. Eventually after walking around for a few minutes I come back to the first hawker and sit down to a sizzling skillet of steak, chicken's feet (which I decline to taste) and prawns with rice and egg. It's good, wholesome and cheap.

Afterwards I hole up in the Irish pub with a pot of coffee and do some more writing before heading back to the hotel. I ask the barman in the pub about the weather and he tells me it will brighten soon.  

Once at the hotel I see the lady at reception who sewed my button back on for me and ask about the boat trip to Xingping: it returns to Yangshuo but I'm looking to skip this stage as I'm staying in Xingping: but this turns out to be unworkable as it's a bamboo raft trip and I can't take my bags on board. So it's back to the drawing board. I look into the possibility of taxis, but realise that it's 64 km (about 40 miles or so) from Guilin and is likely to cost me a fortune. The lady at the hotel has offered to send me on the tour and ask the bus driver to let me off in Xingping so I consider this and think about going on the boat trip the next day however on looking at the weather forecast it still looks gloomy, predicting rain until Saturday.

I book my return ticket to Baoding online and look into other ways to reach Xingping, there being a few options: boat and taxi (expensive but fun) bus (cheap but inconvenient) and taxi (convenient but expensive.) It looks as if I will have to take the bus so I plan to visit the bus station the next day and look at the logistics of this: also collect my train ticket from Beijing back to Baoding at the railway station. I look at my map as it appears I can walk there.  Later I decide to unwind with a curry at the small restaurant Simon visited the previous night. I think the wet weather has seeped into my bones a bit and is making me long for something hot and comforting. 

Before doing this I take the Nikon out to photograph the illuminated Moon and Sun pagodas in one of Guilin's parks around a central lake. They are much more attractive at night, during the day they seem dilapidated and uninspiring in the all-pervading gloom.

The other park is called Elephant Trunk park because it has a huge rock in the centre of the lake with an arch at one end which you can travel though in a boat. I imagine this made someone think of an elephant with its snout in the water. However it seems you have to pay to enter and in this weather I don't think it's worth my while.I walk past a number of shops with tanks of live fish, turtles, clams and snails and rather naively think they are pet shops until I look a little closer and realise they are fish restaurants. I don't think I'll eat in one of these as I'm too squeamish: I feel a sadness as I pass by. There are also caged chickens and ducks, and it makes me sad and angry to see these poor things sitting in cages unaware of the fate that awaits them.

On my way I drop into a trendy-looking bar that does a variety of Chinese and American dishes: it also serves Belgian beer on draught so I treat myself to a glass and get talking to the owner about ways to reach Xingping. I mention the train and he seems to think there is only one a week so recommends the boat. There are many tour agencies in Guilin offering boat trips and visits to various scenic locations. I call the hostel in Xingping to check that they offer the river raft tour, which they do as they have a tour desk. Actually everyone seems to have one. Back at the hotel some young people in the room opposite mine are having a boisterous night and spend a lot of time shouting. At about 11.20 pm I try to ask for some quiet with partial success. I tend to rely on earplugs as China is a noisy country and privacy is not really known to the modern Chinese.

I wake the following morning and doze until about 9am. The rain has stopped but the gloom persists under a gunmetal sky and I feel I may have to modify my plans somewhat. Checking online I find that there are regular fast trains to Yangshuo, so I decide to take the train then get to Xingping by taxi. My Lonely Planet from 2015 states that there is no railway station in Yangshuo so this shows you the pace of change in China. This stage of the journey seems to have been the most difficult to organise nad being a nervous traveller I tend to like having everything pre-arranged. So I have some coffee and fruit for breakfast and book the train to Yangshuo online then walk to the railway station to collect my tickets; this is fairly straightforward although a young Chinese man, probably a student, keeps going back to the ticket window and asking questions while looking at his phone, clearly he has made a mistake about something. Finally the ticket attendant waves him away, either because his problem has been solved or she can't help him. I walk up and give her my booking reference and passport so obtain my tickets to Yangshuo and from Beijing back to Baoding in February. She speaks a little English and smiles at me as I say thank you in pidgin Chinese: I have the impression I've made a welcome small change to her routine. Feeling better for having overcome another obstacle I walk back to the hotel, store my valuables away and go out for lunch. Returning to the food market I find a little stall that sells some good-looking cheap Chinese food so I have this plate of rice and beef with egg plus a bottle of beer.

It may seem so far as if I've done little except take photos, write blog entries, ride trains, eat and drink: which is more or less all there is to do at this stage as Guilin doesn't seem to have all that much to offer in the way of entertainment. Back at the hotel I spend some time online researching some options for the coming weeks. Unfortunately my back is aching, possibly from bad posture, so I have a hot shower, put some muscle ointment on it and do some physiotherapy exercises that Sarah taught me so it eases off a bit. I move my PC into the bay window so I can work while overlooking the street and the river.

 That evening I walk out and return to the bar I went to last night near to the hotel for a couple of Belgian beers and a plate of seafood fried rice, which is rather disappointing for the price as it only seems to contain a few crabsticks and squid tentacles, not particularly good value for money.

However the bar is pleasant and I don't feel like walking to the Irish pub which never seems to have more than about 3 customers: the Indian restaurant is the same and I wonder if they can survive. A Chinese couple walk in and animatedly discuss the menu before one of them goes outside and chatters on his phone, so I wisely order my food straight away as I suspect he is about to bring a number of others with him. This turns out to be exactly the case and about 7 or 8 people walk in, so I'm glad I ordered when I could. I have one more beer and talk to the owner again who seems to be a beer enthusiast and knows some of the brews I'm familiar with. Before returning to the hotel at 10: tomorrow is the last stage of the journey, the trip to Yangshuo and Xingping.

  

GUANGXI 3: BEIJING TO GUILIN

 I have a somewhat fitful night which is a shame as the room is so comfortable. My alarm goes off at 6am, and as I have made sure everything is packed apart from my PC, I hurriedly pack this and have a quick shower and shave before making my way to the hotel reception to check out. I'm toying with the idea of changing my booking to stay here again on my return from Beijing as it is a very late stop. I need to think about it.

It's still dark as I make my way to the station, arriving just before 6.20. I have an hour to wait but a large queue is already forming at the gate, so I join the queue but tend to move forward if I can: many Chinese do this, it's an established protocol. They tend not to bother too much with queuing, this being largely a British phenomenon. Chinese women in particular will simply disregard the line and nonchalantly walk to the front of it as I observe one lady in late middle-age do. The wait for the gate to open drags on interminably and becomes torture as the departure time, 7.26 am, draws closer and closer, and at 7.10 am the gate has still not opened. I've known gates stay closed until five minutes before the train leaves on previous occasions, which is frustrating and worrying as I'm sure the trains won't wait! In my head I try to imagine all the safety checks that may be taking place, as the crowd begins to appear restless and shuffles toward the still-closed gate. A feeling of mutiny hangs in the air.

Finally it opens and a slow crush begins as travellers swarm through, and I feel concerned for my safety. I'm quite near the front by now so it doesn't take long to get through. The Chinese lady who marched to the front of the queue gets stuck in the gate with her bag so hasn't made any more progress than I have: I can't help feeling some humour in the situation. Aboard the train I sit in my allotted seat next to a Chinese gentleman who is chatting animatedly on his phone, which does not bode well for the journey at this stage. The train staff are still loading trolleys of food on to the bar carriage.

 The journey to Guilin is immensely long at 10 hours, tedious and gloomy. Outside the city and the landscape are shrouded in fog, and optimistically I imagine that we will move out of it as we travel further south and the day wears on. The sunlight is filtered through endless vistas of gunmetal grey, and the world outside the train appears as a nondescript expanse of green baize.

 The Chinese gentleman produces a laptop PC and is evidently working on the train: he chatters on his phone every ten minutes or so, so I place earplugs into my ears for the present and try in vain to doze off. The train stops at innumerable stations. Most of them having names ending in “dong” (east) so even if I can manage to doze it is never long till the next “dong”, when I will be woken by the onboard announcement. To my surprise we actually pass through Baoding, which I hadn't known about: I wonder if this would have made me plan differently?

Astonishingly the fog and the cloud never clear throughout the entire journey. To escape my Chinese companion's chatter I make my way to the bar carriage at 9.30 and remain there for three hours or so, having an early lunch and a beer.

 This provides a welcome relief from the travel compartment and I shudder inwardly as I pass through the other carriages; the only first-class one is the one I am in, and for the return journey I have only been able to get a second-class ticket. In the economy carriages the passengers seem squeezed in like sardines, with wailing children everywhere, the tinny sound of games and videos being played on phones, animated phone chatter, and the pervasive smell of soup noodles, which the Chinese bring on board to eat.(I've actually done this myself but so far have eaten the overpriced train food in order to find an oasis of peace!) Many of them are trying, probably unsuccessfully, to sleep, I go back to the compartment at about 12.30 pm to find the Chinese gentleman has gone and both seats are empty so I steal the window seat for a while and try again to sleep. I must have managed some bursts of actual sleep as the on-board announcement for the next station jolts me awake. The train stops at a place called something like Chang'an Nan, and hundreds of passengers get on board, the most I've seen on the journey so far, so the carriage fills up and I move back to my original seat. By now however it's about 3pm so I've had a good 6 and a half hours of glorious solitude.

At 4pm I make up some soup noodles as I've brought some with me and there are hot water dispensers on board the train, and after I've eaten I go back to the bar carriage where I have another beer. It's beginning to become dark by now and I'm starting to become anxious to arrive in Guilin, which I know will not be until 6.30 pm. The attendant there speaks a little English, so strikes up a conversation with me, which is limited as his English is not much better than my Chinese. He speaks slowly in a somewhat sepulchral voice that is rather unnerving. At around 5.45 I go back to the compartment to find the adjacent seat is empty again so I have a final period of time by myself.

My first view of the Guangxi landscape is disappointingly vague as it is shrouded in fog, however it reminds me of the Derbyshire hills.

 The long-awaited announcement of approaching Guilin finally arrives and I'm immensely relieved to disembark from the train at last. Once out of the railway station taxi touts pounce on me: I wave them away and head to the official taxi rank with a marshal and have in my hand the address of my hotel in Guilin printed in Chinese, so it only takes a few minutes to arrive. I check in without any difficulty as the manager speaks English quite well although he tries to persuade me to have a single room and I firmly resist. The room is charming and spotlessly clean, however there is a strong smell of tobacco smoke which, try as I might, I'm unable to dispel.

 I decide to go out and try the bar street in Guilin for food and drinks, so I refresh myself with a hot shower and change. Just after I arrive I receive a text message from Simon, who hosted Christmas dinner in Baoding and who I know is visiting Guilin himself: we arrange to meet in a bar known as the Irish pub, although as yet I don't know where this is.

When I go down to reception the manager has gone and there are some Chinese ladies there: I'm unsure whether to ask them for direction so stand around looking confused until one of them asks me in English if I need help. Slightly sheepish but relieved I ask for a map of the area and directions to the bar street, which this lady is happy to provide. She also notices a button is coming loose on my jacket and to my surprise produces a sewing kit and sews it back on for me!

 I walk out and using the map, find the Irish bar fairly easily, and just around the corner from this I spot Simon in a little Indian restaurant, so I say hello then walk back out to find some barbecue food as I don't really wish to eat curry three nights in a row. There is an indoor food market here with a variety of dishes and I have a couple of skewers before meeting Simon in the Irish pub where we sit and talk over a few beers, exchanging travel stories. The bar has the décor of an Irish-style pub and serves Guinness on draught, but needless to say doesn't play Irish music or have an Irish band!

 It's raining when I come out and the pall of gloom has persisted so I hope for better weather tomorrow. I haven't got an umbrella so I curse my own thoughtlessness in not packing one. This has been a long day and I'm not looking forward to the return trip to Beijing in about 3 weeks' time.