This is not Nam, this is... oh wait, this Nam

As wonderful as Vietnam is, it has blossomed into a love/hate relationship. Fresh off the plane, after collecting my luggage, officially entering the country and getting some Dong, I jumped on a little mini bus for the center of Hanoi. The bus went down a double lane highway lined with billboards rising above the mucky waters of active rice patties. Scenes of smiling youngsters talking on their cell phones and drinking beer looked loomed above woman working the muck below in their signature woven cone hats and water buffalo walked the perimeter munching patiently on dry grass and awaiting their turn at the plow. The streets of Hanoi are insane, with the chaotic bustle and energy I had expected more from China. Unlike Beijing, the streets are mostly small winding lanes and are packed with motor scooters and bicycles with only the rare car or bus screaming through, horn blaring. Crossing the street in Hanoi takes a leap of faith as you stare at the solid line of bikes and just start walking slowly across the lane. The first tense few steps are followed by a breathe of relief as the scooters and bikes skillfully part around you like a school of fish around a reef. The streets of the old quarter - where I stayed and the main tourist action is - inhabit most of the city center and are lined with brilliant European style buildings, french cafes and the occasional cathedral. Besides a taste for Cafes, the french also were kind enough to leave a couple drop dead recipes for baguettes to many tourists delight.

The Streets of the Old Quarter in Hanoi

I arrived in the middle of the this hectic scene and had the bus driver drop me near the hostel. The driver decided to rip me off since I didn't have the exact change and after arguing and arguing I decided it wasn't worth the $2 and let it slide, but started off in Hanoi on the wrong foot thanks to one of the worlds worst ambassadors - taxi drivers. This brings us to the bad side of Vietnam - more than any other country I've been in so far, many Vietnamese see tourists as walking money bags. They try to scam you, blatantly overcharge you, argue and guilt you into tips, or pretend to be your best friend until they get your money and then turn their back on you. Riding around the country outside Ninh Binh on my rented bike, I routinely was approached by groups of children who would be smiling and say yell the customary "Hellooo", but then would follow by yelling "money" and then rub there fingers together suggestively. One cute little girl's face dropped suddenly from a smile as if saying "OK enough of the small talk let's get down to business". Luckily I have become a bit immune to this treatment over the last couple months, and have learned it's not worth stressing over a couple dollars or Dong (which clearly means more to them than me) but it starts to grate on you after a while and makes me understand why some seasoned travelers are so Jaded about the people in poor countries.

That said, It's time to move onto the Love side... Vietnam is beautiful. From the rising islands of Halong bay to the lush green and glistening rice patties inland there is a ton to see. As in all places, the friendly, honest people greatly outnumber those mentioned above and are a pure pleasure - especially those who run the family guesthouses and will do anything for you once you befriend them. The food is also wonderful. Apart from the great bread (a blessing at this point in my voyage), the pho (noodle soup) is out of this world, the spring rolls are truly divine and the Cha Ca (fried catfish with a mix of fried dill, scallions, coriander, mint, noodles, and peanuts) is a phenomenal local favorite in Hanoi.

Exploring the Caves of Halong Bay

Feast Abourd the Halong Bay Tour Boat

My time in Vietnam has been split by Hanoi, Cat Ba island in the beautiful Halong Bay and the small town of Ninh Binh with beautiful Karst structures rising above small rivers and rice patties. Based on these exciting travels, I've collected some travel tips on Vietnam for your information and enjoyment:

1. I know the squid sounds great, smells delicious and upon tasting it, defies even the expectations set by either, but in the end it will cost you - trust me.

2. Rent a motorbike, if only for a day. It's a sort of adventure sport here. Then: up your health insurance, life insurance and travel insurance; register with the local embassy and authorities; and make sure you're in good with whatever deity determines your fate. But most importantly have fun.

3. If you get thirsty in Hanoi head to Bia Hoi Junction (the intersection of P Luong Ngoc Quyen and P Ta Hien) in the Old Quarter. Take your pick of any of the establishments gracing the corners and pull out a plastic chair and grab a fresh pint from the keg. It may take you 12 pints of delicious (OK drinkable) Bia Hoi (draft beer) to get you buzzed, but at 12 Cents a Pint who's counting? Do like the locals and start at 10 in the morning.

4. Go say hi to Ho Chi Minh in Hanoi. The 4 different security lines, confiscation of bags and cameras and the short propaganda film in Vietnamese may seem like too much of a hastle, but where else can you see a rotting corpse for free? Certainly not in the US. Funny thing is that he wanted to be cremated, but the adoring party leaders wouldn't have it.

In Ho Chi We Trust (The Real Ho Chi was not available for a Photograph)

5. Be like a local and eat Pho for breakfast lunch and dinner. When you get sick of Beef, just switch to Chicken or intestines. No worries mate.

6. Having your own bike or motorcycle will not keep the touts from offering you a ride. Don't bother trying to explain why - logic doesn't seem to work on them.

7. See Ha Long bay by boat. It's truly spectacular. A sort of Yangshuo in the sea. Take a swim in the green water (even if it's cold and cloudy) and try not to laugh when the Captain puts up the worthless sails so you can take pictures of you "sailing" the bay.

8. Spend more than 8 days here. There's so much to see and do!

Rice Ready for Planting

Boating Through the Caves of Tom Coc

The Patties of Ninh Binh From Above

Heading to Siem Reap, Cambodia tomorrow. More to come.

Hmmm... Bangkok. Wow! Laos!

Some of my suspicions about Thailand were confirmed before I even left Hong Kong. Unlike the loud arguing Chinese that filled my flight from Hong Kong to Beijing, the gate for Bangkok was surrounded by foreigners in Hawaiian shirts. I ended up talking to the guy sitting next to me whom turned out to be a fantasy book writer from Chicago and showed my pictures of his Thai girlfriend on his PSP (Playstation Portable - complete with full compliment of accessories and a metal carrying case). He assured me that I'd love the women there because "they're all tiny". I started to feel very uncomfortable, but remained cordial and told him his girlfriend was very pretty. When he found out I didn't have a hotel reservation he was worried that everything was full (it being the high season) but started rattling off places that might have space. "Very cheap," he kept adding, "Less than $100." Despite my attempts, I couldn't get through to him that cheap for me meant less than $5 a night.

The Bangkok airport was a very impressive new airport and filled with friendly, helpful, and most importantly, English speaking staff. I instantly knew this would be a cakewalk compared to China. I jumped on the express bus to Khao San Road and through conversations with the bevy of backpackers filling the bus quickly realized I wouldn't be the only one searching for a bed that night.

The bus took forever through the afternoon traffic, and looking out the windows I saw a lot of similarities with China. There were small markets and shops lining the pedestrian filled streets and the roads were filled with taxis, small vans and the infamous "touk touks" a glorified gas powered rickshaw. The main difference (apart from the alien scribbles on all the signs) was that the streets were packed with foreigners, most wearing shorts, flipflops and tanktops or in many cases missing shirts altogether. This was a surprise, but Khoa San Road was a complete shock to my system.

After dismounting the bus I found myself in the midst of a pedestrian street packed with foreigners and lined with bars, shops and guesthouses, and guarded on both ends by Thai "Tourist Police" armed with AK47s. The street was filled with a mix of backpackers, expat deadbeats and tourists, and many of them strolled around beer comfortably in hand. It was like a more raw version of Yangshou, but also on a heavy dose of steroids.

Khoa San at Night

It was indeed difficult to find a place to rest my head, but after not too long I'd found a cheap room at a guesthouse down one of the side alleys off Khoa San. The room was very basic - basically 4 thin wood walls ringed at the top with mosquito screens, a bunk with no sheets, a fan and a door with a small padlock. I couldn't complain too much though, for the privilege of staying here I only had to pay about $4 a night, a bargain on Khoa San. to boot, the downstairs had a cool open bar with a TV, a pool table and friendly staff that could whip up a mean fruit shake.

I wondered the streets in the putrid heat, unsuccessfully looking for shorts and flipflops, ate some delicious red curry washed down with a beer and quickly decided it was time to turn in - still tired from my 5am wakeup in Hong Kong.

The next morning, after a quick cold shower (surprisingly heavenly in the Bangkok heat), I made my way downstairs for a banana pancake (an apparent standard backpacker breakfast in Asia) and some coffee. I was taken aback to find the world was continuing on without me, apparently oblivious to my absence. The TV showed live coverage of President Bush's speech as he announced the deployment of 20,000 new troops to Iraq. The restaurant was silent as the guests and staff listened over their morning meal. I sat down in kind and found myself increasingly frustrated at the U.S. centric nature of the speech. Here I was, the only American in a room of foreigners taking in every word and I began to feel strange. After meeting so many great people from other countries and seeing everyone watching intently I couldn't help but thinking that he should really be addressing the world and worrying about the world's security and not just our own. Oh well...

I took the last bite of my pancake, sipped my coffee and pulled out my guidebook. The night before I'd had a similar feeling as when I'd first arrived in Beijing - "OK, I've made it to Bangkok. Now what the hell do I do." After analyzing the options I decided to immediately head to Ankor What in Cambodia and then jump a plane to Hanoi - that decision turned out to be short lived. I leaned over to as nice looking girl at the next table and casually inquired whether she knew anything about getting to Siam Reap. To make a long story short, two hours later we'd bought bus tickets to Chiang Mai, in Northern Thailand, enroute to Laos. So these things go...

Debbie, turned out to be a Canadian health food specialist from Sarnia (relatively close to Toronto) and is traveling around SE Asia on her way to work in Australia. We spent the afternoon walking around Bangkok to escape the craziness of Khao San Rd. We saw the impressively large (in fact the largest) gold leaning Buddha, had a beer looking over the river and hit up some local markets. After walking the streets and chatting with the locals, I began to gain respect for Bangkok, and its people. They were all so friendly, gentle and generally seemed to like having us around.

Bangkok Food Market

That night we grabbed some BBQ fish and hit up the local nightclub where we met the owners, smoked an apple chi cha and met some cool Israelis and Australians. This all occurred to the beats of the local band whose sets ranged from Lisa Loeb (yep, reach back... that's her) to Metallica, with the most convincing impression being Axl Rose belting out "Don't Cry". Two Pitchers of Heineken: 500 Bhat. Apple Chi Cha: 250 Bhat. Skinny Thai kid wailing like Axl: Priceless. A couple hours later we were drinking free Heineken from unlabeled mugs and attempting to dance to bad Thai hip hop. Shortly after that I'd thankfully retired to bed.

The next morning Debbie and I met for breakfast and wandered north looking for a park. After two hours of wandering, all we'd found was a huge square filled with tanks and military helicopters. This, of course, made my day, but Debbie, more intelligently, proceeded with a notable look of concern across her face. We also finally found a park of sorts, except the 20 ft alligator filled moat, 12 ft brick wall complete with barbed wire and the fatigue dressed guards with AKs strangely didn't make us feel welcome so we moved on.

That night we boarded the tourist bus for the 10 hour trip to Chiang Mai. It was slightly more comfortable than the Chinese sleeper buses, with fully reclining seats instead of cramped cots, except they really weren't kidding when they said "air-conditioned". Fellow travelers boarded in shorts and sleeveless t-shirts and soon everyone was wearing jackets, winter hats and blankets to fight the cold.

When we arrived at 6am in the morning, they loaded us in a number of sawngthaew (pickup trucks with converted benches in the back) to get us into the old town. It felt like we were an invading army as we rode in, under the cover of darkness, in our caravan of sketchy pickup trucks, though I couldn't quite place the purpose of the invasion (cheaper beer? It's really rather cheap already...).

After another six hours by local bus and a short tuk tuk ride later we were aboard a small wooden boat with a couple other backpackers crossing the Mekong into Laos. for once, the book of lies got something dead-on accurate - as soon as I arrived in Laos, I took a deep breathe and felt as if a weight had been removed from my shoulders. We were instantly greeted by Mr. Lan who took us to a small group of tables, bid us to remove our packs and take a seat and brought us the required forms for our visas. He spoke perfect English and said to me, "please fill in this form Mr. Handsome" and then told me it wasn't a problem that I didn't have a photo which was clearly required. Later on I raised issue when he called another guy Mr. Handsome to which he calmly replied that whether we're ugly or attractive we're all "Mr. Handsome" because of what comes from the inside". This is the kind of comment that normally would invoke either vomit or a punch in the face from your author, but from Mr. Lan his sincerity invoked only a single solitary tear of joy. What a country! Laos! Who knew!

An hour later we were sharing a beer Laos (best beer ever) with a French guy outside one of the guest houses when I politely excused myself and hiked up a small hill to the Wat we had explored when first arriving. I climbed the extra stairs to the first level of the drum tower and sat on the concrete railing and watched the bright red sun set over the bamboo huts of the village and sink into the Thai hills which rose above the Mekong. Meanwhile the constant rhythmic hum of a dozen monks chanting in a nearby home kept me company as I sat riveted to the view. At that moment, the near 24 hrs of bus rides were all worth it. I had arrived in Laos and felt better for it.

Sunset Over the Mekong - Looking into Thailand

Sunset in Huay Xai

The next morning we caught another bus to Luang Nam Tha. We arrived at the bus station promptly at eight and two and a half hours later after receiving five different estimates about when the bus might leave we were on the road - and what a road it was. What followed was 8 hrs (fitting nicely into the 5-10 hr. estimate we'd received for the trip) of bouncing, baking in the sun and breathing dust as the bus wound its way through the mountains on the pockmarked road heavily under construction to one day link Thailand and China. though it was not "comfortable" per se, the scenery was spectacular with dense jungle, flooded rice patties and bamboo villages all along the way. Looking out the bus window, I couldn't help but think back to all the Movies I'd seen about Vietnam and seeing the terrain in person gave me a new found respect for what the GIs went through in this part of the world.

We arrived that night and booked a trek leaving early the next morning to the Nam Ha wilderness area. the next morning we met our group - an Australian couple we'd met on the bus, a swiss guy, a Dane and another Canadian from Vancover. We set out in a sawngthaew with our two guides, Phon and Souk, and after two hours on back roads arrived at a small village. We had lunch in a village home of traditional sticky rice which you roll into balls in the hand and then dip in the various other side dishes of veggie and meat salads. I attempted to impress my new companions by joining Souk in eating whole chilies after he declared the meal wasn't spicy enough. After lunch we bid farewell to the villagers, they ferried us across the river and we set out through the jungle following dirt paths which wound along streams through the jungle and past abandoned villages and rice patties. The area's known for wild tigers and elephants, though besides the occasional delirious fantasy of them hiding in the dense jungle there was no contact.

That night we stayed in a village of about 100 people ( with at least as many pigs and chickens) on the Nam river and was only accessible by foot (or helicopter). We bathed in the river with the locals, watched the kids catch, skewer and skin about 80 frogs and watched the women make bamboo paper to sell at the local markets. The villagers and our guides made a delicious meal of duck and chicken soup, fried veggies and, of course, more sticky rice. The guides took the organs and skin of the fowl, chopped them finely and fried them with a generous dose of garlic ginger and chilies. They then mixed the stir fry in with the reserved duck blood to make "blood soup". Phon told us this "wasn't for tourists" and that it made you strong, so after a number of us insisted a bunch of us tried a spoonful. It was interesting to say the least.

Ban Nam Noi Village

That night we enjoyed our dinner in the small bamboo hut they'd made for trekers and also shared some local rice liquor with the town elder whose job it was to ensure our comfort. After dinner we shared a few beer Lao by a fire, looked at the stars chatting and telling stories of far off adventures both past and future, though sleep later proved difficult owing to the chorus of lucky frogs that had escaped the children's skewers.

The next morning we hiked out and caught the truck back after a traditional lunch of Laos salads called Lab. Once we returned, Debbie and I had picked up Jonas, a Dane studying economics in Hong Kong, as a new traveling companion since we were all headed in the same direction and treated ourselves to hour long Laos massages and an herbal sauna smelling deliciously of Ginger. Apparently the Sauna will cure malaria, improve vision and help with postnatal depression, but despite being quite relaxing, I can't really substantiate those claims. En route to the sauna, we ran into Suzie, a Chicagoan Jonas had met in Yangshou and all of a sudden our threesome was at 4.

The next morning, we headed to Nong Khiaw, stayed the night in Bamboo Huts and jumped on the day long boat ride down the Pak Ou river which spills into the Mekong. the boat pulled into Luang Probang that evening, a small city rich in Laos history and steeping with tourists. We've spent the last few days and nights relaxing, visiting the thriving night market for handicrafts and great street food and, of course, downing a Beer Laos now and then. Luang Probang is such a near perfect place. Though the streets are filled with tourists it's so relaxed and everyone's so friendly. The weather's nice, the locals are friendly and our group continues to grow as we meet fellow travelers from our various (and collective) pasts. Laos has been amazing, and though I'm looking forward to Vietnam I will be sad to leave my new friends and miss out on more adventures in Laos. I guess I'll just have to come back!

Bridge over the Pak Ou

Boat on the Pak Ou

Sunset Over the Mekong in Laung Probang

For more pics of Bangkok and Laos check out my Flickr site!

China Wrap Up

China's done, finished, kaput. How do I feel about it? Well like the end of most trying experiences it's bitter-sweet. I really loved China and have a long list of reasons to stay, but on the other note - I'm a bit Chinaed out myself and know it's time to move on to the new experiences I'm looking forward to in SE Asia and Oceania (oh, yeah and back home too). That will have to wait for now though... For now, here's the account of the eventful last ten days in China. As always, I've posted a number more pictures on my Flickr site.

I met up with my sister Amy late on the first of January in Guilin. I'd heard Guilin was westerny and touristy, but it defied even my expectations. The town itself is nice, with tall Karst peaks surrounding the city and many canals and lakes winding through the middle of the city and abutting the Li River. Like Yangshuo I rarely found the need to use the Chinese I'd been working so hard to develop. The main problem with Guilin when we were there was the weather. It was the same bitter, wet cold that I'd become accustom to in China, the kind that cuts right through your clothes and accumulates throughout the day since you can never really get out of it. With the weather as it was, and with Amy adjusting to the jetlag associated with a 15 hour jump over the Pacific, we mostly took it easy in Guilin, but did get to check out the Reed Flute Cave hidden in the middle of one of the nearby mountains, took the Chinese tour boat up the Li River to Yangshuo and saw some of the other famous sights in Guilin.

Reflections on Reed Flute Cave

Li River From the Tour Boat

We also managed to find some great food in Guilin including the "Thousand flavors dumpling restuarant". Walking down the street in Guilin, Amy and I ran into Tom (on the right in the New Years Picture from Yangshuo) and he joined us for dumplings, and with our collective knowledge of Chinese we were able to navigate the Chinese menu and avoid the horse Dumplings (they really mean it when they say 1,000 flavors). These were hands down some of the best dumplings I'd found in China and in the nick of time too! Personal favorites were the "three fresh" dumplings with pork, shrimp and... uh... something else delicious. Another hit was the spicy Sichuan restaurant and the Sichuan pickled cabbage which knocked our socks off but were delicious. This sounds all well and good, but somewhere in these culinary pursuits lay a crouching menace waiting to pounce (oh, the suspence!) resulting in AJ having his first (but hopefully the last) "gastro-intestinal " incident of the trip.

This "incedent" (as it will be hitherto refered) lasted through an extremely uncomfortable sleeper train (which has now surpassed the sleeper bus to Kunming as the #1 thing on my list of things which I do not want to talk about) and into our arrival in Guangzhou. I was trying to ride it out and beat it the natural way, but after two days and three terrible nights with no improvement I'd had enough and I called in the reinforcements in the form of 6 Cipro pills prescribed by my doctor before I left (note to perspective travelers - this is a good idea). Magic. I felt better almost instantly, though it still took a good three days to fully recuperate and rehydrate. In one bit of luck from the last week, Amy remained unaffected.

The first night in Guangzhou was muted by my sickness, as on arrival we ended up just crashing at the hostel near the train station and I spent the whole day in bed reading and sleeping (it was actually kind of great). By nightfall, I thought I was better so we went for a walk along the Pearl river which is lined with lit up clubs, lit up trees and full of people enjoying the mild, pleasant weather. After walking not too long , I quickly realized my strength wouldn't last and we hopped a cab back to the hostel. The next day we headed to a different hostel on Shamian Island, a western hotspot on the river separated from the mainland by a small canal. The Island is really neat as it's filled with old European architecture and grand buildings from when the British used the Island as a base for trade with Guanzhou. Rumor has it that the island used to be isolated at night to keep out the pesky locals.

The Pearl River From Shamian Island

There's something else strange about Shamian - as Amy discovered when she checked out the local shops and was repeatedly asked if she had "picked up her baby yet". When she replied, "no I'm just here with my brother," then it was obvious to them that I was the one picking up a baby. They now stand corrected. Turns out Shamian is now the center of Baby trade between the US and China, and for some reason all the US couples come here and have to wait a month before picking up their babies. It creates a strange atmosphere - trust me.

We also dined well in Guangzhou despite my condition. We went to a local restaurant with many local oddities like sandworms, water beetles, snakes, toads, etc. in tanks outside the dining area. Apparently the saying is that in Guangzhou they will eat "Anything that flies but isn't a plane and anything with four legs that isn't a table". I believe it. Despite the adventurous nature, this meal was disappointing. We went for the too bland steamed chicken buns and the fried eel in "Rose Sauce" which tasted suspiciously like Ketchup.

The next day we went to a cool tomb that was unearthed in the eighties when digging for an apartment building, and that night gave a ring to Aaron (a friend of my friend Andrew) whom showed us the ropes of Guangzhou steamed Guangzhou fish and the local "Dim Sum," a cantonese phrase translated directly as "touch the heart". It was wonderful (a term I do not use lightly).

Dim Sum in Guangzhou with Amy and Aaron

The next morning we signed out of China and arrived in Hong Kong. We decided to crash at the Chungking Mansions, a network of apartment like buildings tied together with restuarants and guesthouses on everyfloor. I would not describe the "Mansions" as "clean" but they did the trick and it was definitely a worthwhile experience. They were filled with Africans, Indians and countless other ethnicities I didn't recognize, as well as Indian food stalls wholesale trinket shops and sketchy money trading windows.

The Entrance to Chungking Mansions

I really liked Hong Kong. The weather was perfect (finally!) the air was clear (at least when we were there) and the surrounding islands, beaches and mountains are beautiful. The city is bustling and filled with a great diversity of British, various Asians and other westerners. Highlights from Hong Kong involved the view of the city from the Star Ferry going to Hong Kong island from Kowloon - the best bang for your buck in HK, the tram up Victoria Peak for the sunset and to watch the lights come on in the city, riding the double decker bus over the winding roads around the island to the southern point of Stanley - a great place to relax in the sun with some authentic British Fish and Chips and a Boddington's (after three days of antibiotics). Heaven. The last night we spent with my Friend Justin From High School who works in Hong Kong now and his friend Elizabeth who was there visiting, both of whom I knew when I was in DC. And with that, I called it, and headed to bed, waking early for my flight to Bangkok where I remain.

The Lights Come on in the City

The Sunset From Victoria Peak

And so the epic (if I do say so myself) trip to China comes to an end. A success in my eyes and an experience I'll always carry with me. Luckily, the epic continues through SE Asia and onto Australia and New Zealand. I plan to keep up the blog so stay tuned for further updates. Thanks for coming along with me so far.

Cheers.

Yangshuo - China's Western Playground

The bus ride to Yangshuo was certainly memorable. As we pulled into Guilin - your narrator twisted uncomfortably in a small seat as usual with my legs sticking out in the aisle to avoid the seat in front of me banging continually against my knees - I saw the large karst stone mountains rising up around the sprawling city. The limestone structures are created by the same forces that molded the stone forest, except these ones are more like mountains than trees. The land between the mounds is surprisingly flat, giving the appearance that these huge stone structures just rose out of nowhere - a description that's probably more or less true, but I'm no expert on the subject. As we came into town, the TV on the bus, which had previously been playing Taiwanese pop videos, now showed a video about how to make house music in English. To show they were the undisputed masters of house, they shared there own pumping rhythm, and so my arrival included a driving techno soundtrack which was fun for about 10 minutes, but after 25 I was ready to kill someone.

As I've been getting used to over the last few weeks, I stayed in Guilin just long enough to find the bus to Yangshuo. The ticket was pricier than I expected, but the bus was plush - a real coach bus with legroom and a TV showing "102 Dalmatians" which was so simpleminded I followed the whole plot despite the dubbed Chinese. The bus ride took about an hour as we wound through the Karst towers well lit by the receding sun.

Yangshuo has a reputation as the western backpackers mecca, but has built on that reputation and become a paradise for foreigners of all types with fancy hotels alongside little guesthouses. The small town inhabits the small voids among a spattering of karst towers. The towers literally rise right out of the town, so where ever you wander you can look straight up to the limestone towers sprinkled with trees and shrubs. West Street, the main drag, is a cobblestone pedestrian street which cuts under Green Lotus Peak from the bus station to the Li River. The street is lined with cafes, shops and bars, all of which advertise rooms to rent. Unlike most of China, everyone speaks English in the tourists' little slice of heaven. Inside the cafes westerners sip real coffee and eat pizza with cheese that manages not to taste like plastic. The natural beauty and laid back atmosphere brings its share of Chinese tourists as well, but the concentration of westerners in the streets is still quite staggering.

Streets of Yangshuo

Green Lotus Peak and the Li River

Yangshuo as it turned out, deserved every bit of its reputation. The place was extremely laid back. Despite the numerous options of activities to fill the day (of which you were constantly reminded by the numerous "tour guides" wandering the streets and cafes) it seemed whenever you asked someone what they did that day the answer was either "nothing" or occasionally "almost nothing." After my epic bus tour through the mountains, I was ready for a vacation from my vacation and planned to use Yangshuo as a chance to relax. I feel I've fulfilled all my goals of the China experience and, although there's always more I could do, I felt I deserved some needed R&R. So I kicked back, drank coffee, ate pizza and read a lot. Since there's so much in the town the hostel didn't have much of a common area so my home base became the aptly named Drifters Cafe. My first night I met a couple Israelis and a British guy and almost every time I went in there they were there and I'd join them. We played some cards, ate and occasionally went around the corner to the Buffalo Bar which was run by an Australian who seemed to always be drunk (or at least he used it often as an excuse for many different situations).

I'm probably misleading you a bit however as, being a fairly active person, I couldn't really spend six days in a place like this without doing anything. The highlight was clearly my trip rock climbing. The steep walls of the Karst mounds make for ideal climbing and so starting about ten years ago a couple Americans started developing routes and different climbs. I checked out the local climbing shops and found one that looked good. Being far too ambitious I inquired about 2-3 day trips, but after only a quick once over they told me "a half day will be enough" and they were right. I convinced Tom (aforementioned British character) to come with me on my
adventure.

I was happy to have climbed recently so I knew that our guides were using all the proper safety precautions because, as I've noted before, China's doesn't always have safety as the top concern on their list. As I've also indicated, Chinese tourists don't typically like to think too much, and the tourist industry is se tup to allow them to not have to. This apparently applies to rock climbing as well. Our guides knew we were beginners so from the outset they took every opportunity to yell directions as we tried to make it up the rock face. They'd yell things like "left foot up" and "right foot left knee" which was all very confusing. It didn't help that, despite doing this all day everyday, they evidently still didn't know the difference between a foot and a hand which made their already confusing directions even more so. As a problem solver with a stubborn independent streak, this didn't sit so well with me. With a little of Tom's help I eventually convinced them that I wanted to figure it out for myself – a concept that took them quite some time to grasp. All in all, rock climbing was great and a clear highlight. It was tough and I'm still sore, but am so glad to have gone. I hope to go in Thailand too, because I heard it's great down there, too.

Rock climbing in Yangshuo

For other activities, I hiked to the top of Green Lotus Peak, the tall peak that rises above West Street, via a sketchy dirt path that went almost straight up. At times coming down I would just turn my feet and slide down the loose dirt, like skidding on ice with skis. The view looking down the Li River and down onto the town was amazing. I also rented a bike one day and took off to the countryside, winding through small villages along the Yu Long river and coming out at Moon Hill, the most famous Karst peak due to the gaping hole in the middle.

View from Green Lotus Peak

View through Moon Hill

I also rang in the new year in Yangshou, a night which started slowly, but picked up when we found the crowded bar filled with cross-dressing bartenders about 30 minutes before midnight. The new year arrived without the customary ball dropping and champagne but I did get covered in silly string, wore a funny hat and sunglasses and woke up with a terrible headache, so that was good, or...er, bad.

Happy New Year

Now I'm back in Guilin, but staying this time and meeting up with my sister. More stories to come.

I've posted pictures relating to my previous post on the Flickr link at right, but the orientation of some of them appears off. If you click on them, they will appear correctly, but they look funny in the preview. I'll fix it when I get a better internet connection.