When we disembarked in Yangshuo, after a most enjoyable cruise down the Li River, Stephen and Angela took a picture of a cormorant fisherman.   As soon as their camera clicked, two gentlemen behind them wanted money for the photo.   They said they didn't know it was going to cost them money for the photo ... there was no sign.  The men still wanted money.  The photo was not that good, so with the men watching, Angela erased the photo from their camera.

Our local contact, Alan, was standing higher up on the stairs with a sign which read "Thorne".  He led us to the hotel as Frank in Guilin had directed him ... not the one Frank confirmed we were getting.  We pulled out the receipt ... no name of the hotel had been printed on the receipt.  We were not happy and only booked in for the one night we reserved.  We would find another on our own.  Unfortunately Alan was the one who got the brunt of our displeasure.

Alan's outgoing personality quickly won us over as he introduced us to Yangshuo and suggested things we might want to do over the next two days.  We emphasised to him that we would like to see the countryside and to be close to the people. 

As we walked around Yangshuo with Alan, a lady asked Terry if he would like his shoes shined.  He indicated maybe at a later time.  She wanted to be sure she was there when he was ready, so she joined our entourage.   Terry appreciating that by her tagging along, he was perhaps causing her to lose other customers, so we stopped and he had his shoes shined.  She did a really great job.  

Dating back more than 1400 years, West Street is Yangshou's oldest street.  Since the 1980s it is also Yangshuo's most prosperous street.  It would be difficult to be in Yangshuo and miss West Street with it's cross-culture ambience.  Over 100,000 visitors come here each year to visit or engage in foreign language studies.  At a textile shop, Sherrie stopped and asked a lady doing needlework in a store entrance if it was okay to take a picture.  She nodded, "yes".  Sherrie took the picture and with the click of the camera a lady on the street approached her and asked for ¥10 for the picture.  Before Sherrie could engage in conversation with the lady who wanted the money, a lady within the shop said in a stern voice in perfect English, "this is my shop and she can take as many pictures as she wants."  Wow, lesson learned.

Yangshou would very much appeal to those tourist who want the flavour and ambience of China, but like to have the security of being able to communicate in English and the familiarity of eating western food.   Yangshou was a pleasant respite, but not the China we came to see.  We made arrangements to meet Alan in the morning, rent motorbikes and head out to the country. 

We continued to explore Yangshou on our own; stopped for a drink by the water side where a man did his laundry; watched the sun set and the neon lights turn on.  We hadn't seen any Caucasians since leaving the Yangtze River cruise several days ago ... they were all over Yangshuo.  We hadn't missed them. 

We had dinner at a restaurant Alan had recommended, "Si Chuan".  It was good and very reasonable.  The best recommendation came from all the Chinese filling the limited number of tables. 

Before returning to the hotel, we found another and made reservations at the Hotel Explorer (not a direct web site) for tomorrow night and made arrangements to leave our luggage with them in the morning.

November 10

When we left the hotel we were treated to some morning music by a gentleman who was playing a traditional stringed instrument in the little park overlooking the Li River.  Such a lovely way to start a new day.   There was much activity in the park as well.  Many parks in China have exercise equipment and to the people's benefit, most times we have seen it in use. 

After depositing our backpacks at the Hotel Explorer, we went to West Street and had breakfast at Twin Peaks Restaurant.  The food and coffee was good and the prices reasonable. 

Alan met us there and introduced us to his son (about 6 years of age).  He asked if we minded that his son join us on the day's adventures.  "That would be great," we answered enthusiastically.   Alan then led us to the lane way where he had arranged for us to rent four electric motorbikes.   We had some trial runs in the laneway.   Sherrie, who rode a bike like this on Rarotonga, was, for some reason, having difficulty.  Everyone was patient until she felt ready to tackle the streets and highways around Yangshuo.

We headed out onto the highway with Alan and his son on a gasoline fuelled motor bike and us on our electric ones.   We had chosen a large size because it had more power, to handle hills, and quicker acceleration for better response time.  No helmets.   No insurance.   It only took a few minutes and we all felt comfortable.  

At a "T" in the road, a lady seemed to magically appear selling flowered head pieces.  It seemed like a great deal of work for ¥2 (29 cents).  Angela and Sherrie rode off with flowers in their hair.

The day was sunny and the scenery exceptional.   Our first stop was at rice fields set among karsts.  The owners and workers of these fields have agreed to have their work interrupted by curious tourists in exchange for a little financial consideration. 

When we pulled up with our bikes we were surrounded by enthusiastic peddlers.  After three of us indicated we did not want to buy they concentrated on Terry who wanted to purchase a little wooden duck from a little girl.   He got his duck ... four of them ... and we made it across the little stone bridge which seemed to be a sales free zone. 

In the field we met a man and woman who were harvesting rice.  They were kind enough to allow us to try our hand at some of the work.

During this time the field is prepared for planting.  Hand ploughing is usually done with the aid of a steer (as in pictures) or water buffalo (as we saw in Vietnam and also in China).  It was interesting to note that the steer would not move if a simple "barrier" of a rice stook was place in front of him.

The fields are then cleared of any weeds, fertilized ... often with dung and levelled by dragging a log.

At the right stage of growth with a few healthy leaves and good root system, farmers then have the backbreaking task of transplanting the seedlings, one by one approximately 20-30 cm apart, into the field which has now been flooded with rain or river water.  It is important that they are planted at the right depth since air is just as important for growth as water.  It would be nice if the farmer could take a bit of a break but during the growing season, the field is emptied of water, weeded and then flooded again ... a number of times.

When they are not fighting the weeds, they are chasing off birds (including wild ducks and geese),  picking off snails by hand and doing what they can with pesticides to ward off rice stem borers, army worms and rodents.

Between 80 to 200 days after transplanting, when the rice is finally ready to harvest, the farmer cuts the stalks close to the ground with a hand scythe which has tiny saw blade teeth.

The buildings are made of here are mostly made of brick.   It seemed rather vacant.   We walked through "Education Gate" together and then become delightfully lost in the maze of alleyways.

A lady came up one of the wider laneways pulling a cart towering with rice straw.  Her load started to lean to one side as she rounded a corner.  Her pace quickened, wanting to get to her destination before it completely fell off. 

When it did, Stephen and Terry hurried to her aid and helped her stack it outside one of the brick buildings.

Fishermen squat on narrow bamboo rafts and fish with tiny, almost transparent nets.  A basket on one raft awaits the catch.  We wonder how far these men have travelled and if they too appreciate the special beauty that is their homeland.

Lunch was very good, because of the dishes Alan ordered and because of our time spent chatting with him.    Alan asked if we wanted to climb up Moon Hill.   There are 800 steps up a mountain path and an hour is recommend to do the trip.  We passed ... not because of the hike ... nor the great views reported from the top ... the fact is we were just enjoying cruising around on our bikes with Alan and his son too much to want to take time away.  

 The sun was on a downward path creating soft light and shadows.  This fun day was coming to an end all too fast.  

Many Chinese who are connected to the tourist industry have given themselves English nicknames (ie "Alan") since some Chinese names are difficult for English speakers to wrap the back of their tongues around.   Alan's son's name was difficult and we did not want to offend him by pronouncing it incorrectly.  Since he had become an "assistant-tour-guide" for the day, we decided to give him an English nickname of his own.  We called him "A.J." (Alan Junior). 

Alan and his wife would like to have a second child.  Since they are farmers, they are allowed to have a second child.  If A.J. had been born a girl, they could go ahead and have a second child without any problems.  Since their first born was a boy, for Alan and his wife to have a second child they would have to pay the equivalent of $1,000.  That amount of money is equivalent to about three years income.   

Just down the road, a baby in a basket and another ¥5 (72 cents).  Her grandmother was also selling pomelo fruit, the baby added some counter-weight to her basket of fruit.  Photographs probably take in as much money which helps to supplement the family's income.  Entrepreneurial spirit is alive and well in China.

"Look back," said Alan coming to another stop.  The setting sun was just lighting the top of a karst as though it were a candle. 

It was rush-hour on the back roads of China ... 60+ geese and a water buffalo took up the road in front of us.   Just before we turned onto the main highway back into Yangshuo we stopped to watch the sun sink between karst silhouettes.  

November 11

Again Alan and A.J. met us as we finished our breakfast at Twin Peaks.  Before beginning today's adventures, we used Alan's assistance in making reservations for tomorrow night's sleeper bus. 

We walked through Yangshuo, across the bridge by the lake and out to where our bikes were charged up (electric bikes) and ready to go ... just like us ... charged up and ready to go.

On the highway we stuck to the right in single file.   Alan went slow so we did not feel any pressure ... sometimes we had to ask him to increase the speed.

Off the highway, our first stop was on a bridge over the Yu Long River.   Looking down river we could see, in the morning haze, the faint silhouette of the Xiangui Bridge ... our next destination.

Dating back to 1123, Xiangui Bridge is the oldest bridge in Guangxi Province.  It's single arch, made with 281 blocks (laid crossways in nine sections), has for over 880 years withstood winds, rains and countless amounts of traffic from water buffalo to motorcycles despite the long sets of stairs leading to the top.

When we were through, we had bags of goodies and had to divided them up so we could carry them in the compartments of the motorbikes. 

It was still a distance away to Alan's house.   We passed A.J.'s white one level school and enjoyed the country road as we climbed up into the hills.

At a three storey building under construction, we parked the bikes.  The upper floors are the home for the family who is running a store at ground level.  Friends and family were making use of the additional space to socialize and play cards. 

We bought some pop, emptied our bike compartments of our market purchases and then headed further up the hill on foot until we came to the home of Alan and his wife, A.J. and Alan's mother and father.  Alan's mother and wife came out to greet us.

Though we wanted and offered to help, Alan told us to rest on the porch and nibble on dried persimmons while his wife disappeared into the house with our purchases.

His mother took the three head of cattle around the corner of the house and up the hill.

After some time lounging around on the front porch and getting a little more acquainted with A.J.; and after numerous requests to be of some help in some way, Alan said we could go into the garden to pick some onions and peppers.

We went into the stone fenced garden opposite the house.  It did not appear to be easy land in which to grow crops as the soil was hard and dry.  We admired what they had growing.

Lettuce and bean sprouts were added to the pot.  Side dishes of eggs and tomatoes (Alan remembered from yesterday that it was a favourite of Terry's), hot chilli sauce (Alan remembered that Stephen and Ange like hot-foods) and A.J.'s favourite, the salmon.  Being from the west coast of Canada and used to eating the "real thing", after trying we left the simulated "salmon rolls" to A.J..   There were two bowls and a pair of chopsticks at each setting. We used one bowl for our selected items from the hot pot and ate from that bowl using chopsticks. The food was exceptional and our hosts most gracious.  The second bowl was for beverages.  Alan offered rice wine and was a little surprised when Sherrie and Angela accepted.    We sat on small stools.   Sherrie being the elder woman was offered a little chair.  Alan told us that sometimes it is more comfortable to put the stools on their side and sit across the legs.  

Alan led us up a stone path.  This was not all his family's land.  Some belonged to neighbours, another part was owned by his cousin.   Up a steep trail we reached his family's orchard of kumquat and pomelo.  

Pomelo are a little larger than a grapefruit with a pear shaped exterior.  Under the thick skin, the fruit is about the size of a grapefruit and similar in taste ... a little more tart and a little drier.   Alan said, "The colour not so good (showing one with green tinge on skin), is not expensive; the colour good, golden colour ... expensive."

"How long will they stay on the tree?"

"They are well done now.  Have been too busy to pick." 

"Would you take them to the market that we were at today?" asked Terry.

"Yes," nodded Alan, "and some come from the village to my house [to buy]. They take it away." 

Stephen asked, "How much would a single pomelo sell for?" 

"Oh, about ¥5 (71 cents)."

"Oh, very good.  So this tree is very valuable," Terry said surveying one of a number of low trees heavy with fruit.   Terry touch one of the pomelo to gauge its weight, as he touched it the weight became heavier and he realized it had come away from the stem and now rested in his hand.   He was startled and apologized to Alan.

"It doesn't matter," Alan consoled Terry.  "They are well done.  You take.   I give you more kumquat and pomelo to take.   You choose," he said opening his arms to the tree.  

"Oh, no Alan, you have given to us already.  We have some we have not eaten yet.  I didn't mean to take it from the tree."

Stephen laughed, "You didn't choose it, it chose you."

It was getting late and we had to go.  Upon Alan's insistence, we did take the pomelo which had chosen Terry along with more kumquats and some delicious dried persimmons. 

Morning was a mini-vacation from our travels.  Travelling for long periods of time demands some time off ... a chance to rejuvenate the mind and body with some quiet time.  Results of our massages had left ugly bruises all over Sherrie's back and legs and Terry was worse.

We had a whole day to spend in Yangshuo before catching the night sleeper bus to Guangzhou. We checked out of the Hotel Explorer just before noon and once again left our backpacks with the front desk.   Minnie Mao's Cafe has a terrace right on the lake and it seemed the ideal place to have a slow lunch.  

We believe the contact information for the CITS in Yangshuo is:  location: Xi Jie 110, Yangshuo; telephone: 0773/882-7102; fax: 0773/882-7102; email: citysys@sina.com.cn .    Let Alan know how you heard about him and say hello from the Thorne family.

All during our time at Minnie Mao's Cafe we enjoyed soft and gentle music coming from an elderly gentleman playing an er hu ... a traditional two-stringed instrument which even outdates him. 

As we left, we let him know how much his playing had been appreciated. We strolled the streets, looking into shop windows, like the one on West Street which sells chopsticks of all kinds including folding ones for travel.

Terry had his shoes shined, Stephen had his shined and had his hair cut.   Although there was a price board written in Chinese outside, Stephen was asked to pay much more.  "Ask first" ... we knew that, but let our guard down.  It was still less money than at home ... and it was a good cut.

We tried to get lost down side streets, but in Yangshuo that is nigh impossible.   We ended back on Guihua.  It is less expensive than the overly commercialized West Street and holds our favourite Si Chuan restaurant, the bar with the massages (ouch!) and amongst many others, Lucy's Place. 

We perched ourselves on the second floor balcony of Lucy's place, drank pijiu and ate popcorn with chopsticks which fascinated the young male server.  Firstly, he was surprised Canadians knew how to use chopsticks, then he was amazed we wanted to eat popcorn with chopsticks and he was bewildered when we told him that at home we also eat caesar salad and snacks with chopsticks.  Not all Canadian ... just our family.

Lucy is a charming lady (pictured).  The items she has displayed in her place are old tools from her family's farm.  She says it reminds her of her upbringing.  On the main floor wall her customer's have done the decorating with accolades and cartoons.  One prominent plea says, "Marry my brother, Lucy.  Love the food." while another claims, "Lucy's snake is the best. Try it for yourselves."   Her mother (pictured in pink in front of Lucy's Place) is also involved with the cafe/bar.  You can tell they are related, for both have the same winning smile.

We chatted for awhile with a gentleman sporting white hair and beard and getting around with a cane.  He's from Buffalo, New York.  This is his eighteenth time back to China.  He was once a travel guide but now comes for his own pleasure.  He has seen a lot of changes over the last 20+ years.   

It was getting hard to pass the time before having to catch our bus.   We parked ourselves on one of the bridges which cross Guihua Brook.  Other than Stephen and Angela going into a nearby store to buy some snake wine (wine with snakes pickled in the bottle), we did some people watching.  

We were being watched as well, by four young ladies who finally approached us.  "We are business English students.  May we ask you some questions," was their opening remark.  We had a wonderful conversation with them.  Very nice ladies.  [Photo left to right: Stephen, Donar, Rose, Janne, Mirror and Terry].  We were so pleased to meet them and wish we had met earlier.  We had to end our visit, go to the hotel for our packs and head for the bus stop.  

As we got on the sleeper bus we were passed orange plastic bags.  Sherrie was the first on and was not sure what to do with them, but could not go any further until she did something.  Ahhh ... they are to put our shoes in, she thought and began taking off her shoes.  Some frustrating noises came from the driver and his assistant and then some pantomime.   The plastic bags were indeed for our shoes but they were meant to put over our shoes ... with our feet still in them ... like hospital booties.  A look into the bus showed others had done just that.  

We settled in ... the best we could.   We all managed to catch snippets of sleep which helped greatly to pass the time.  We could not help but feel blessed by the  experiences these passed weeks had given us and the wonderful people we had met.   Tomorrow morning we would arrive in Guangzhou ... this was the last week of our China travels and we were not anxious for it to end.