We had researched our journey as much a possible, asking everyone I knew tips and advice. Asking at the travel agent for train and bus tickets, asking at the bus stop, looking on the Internet. Nothing. No amount of research was coming up with the answer we were looking for. How do we book a bus ticket from Shenzen to Yangshuo? A friend had told me to get the train, another: fly. But I was set on getting an over night bus, but there didn't seem to be a way to pre book this. We had read about how to find the bus stop, and what times they left Shenzen, but boarding the MTR, it is fair to say we were heading off blind with the attitude of 'what will be will be' and 'we're not the first to embark on this journey'. In all my travel experience, I have realised, there is always someone to help.
We approached the Chinese border. We got off at Lo Wu, where we crossed Chinese immigration. Once we cleared immigration our minds switched to 'where is the bus stop'. We knew there were two buses departing from Shenzen that went to Yangshuo, one at 7:30pm and one at 8:30pm. It was 6:54pm when we reached China.
We stepped outside and were met by a man dressed like an official. We waved our piece of paper with our rough google translation.......'overnight bus to Yangshuo' at him. He directed us to a small counter where we were informed that the bus left at 7:00pm, in six minutes time. We said 'yes yes' and handed him 280 Yuen. We followed a man and waited in the street. I thought about trust. How easily we had put our lives in his hands, and how often I had questioned people that were close to me. We stood on a busy road trying to find a taxi. Time was ticking. The man with us looking more and more distressed as time ticked by. He was on his phone and we came to the conclusion he was communicating with the bus that we were stuck, trying to find a taxi. 'Please please wait', we decided was what he was saying in Chinese. Nothing. We hailed and hailed but no one stopped. Many taxis looking at us like we were foreigners. Which of course we were. So soon after leaving Hong Kong and we were in a completely different world.
He guided us across the busiest road, jumping over the mid section with heavy traffic coming towards us. We were now far from the border, with no idea where we were, in China, with a stranger and very late for our bus. I prayed that we would find our way to the bus. Everything would be okay once we were on our bus to Yangshuo. Part of the magic and frustration of travelling is the journey in between the destination. I stayed strong in my belief that things would work out. They alway had before so they would again.
A car pulled up and the man negotiated with him to take us. We were on our way but against Friday night traffic. Neon lights everywhere, people walking in the street and what appeared to be no order at all. The car stopped and we jumped out, ran across another road, put our bags through and were shuffled into a bus. We had found it. Pure relief.
The bus had beds lining the full length. We headed to the back and found two beds close together and settled in. Getting comfortable. Or as comfortable as one can get in a small bed on a bus. The next leg of our journey was in process. From what we had read, the bus would take nine hours. There was only a few people on the bus but we set off, wide eyed looking out of the window at China.
We stopped many times over the next few hours as the bus filled up. More and more people got on, settled into their small beds. More and more piled on, sitting in the gang ways. We couldn't believe people were boarding a nine hour bus journey and sitting in between the beds in the isles. It's fair to say we were surprised how many Chinese people could fit on one bus.
The lights were tuned off and we settled in. It was hot and not terribly comfortable but we did our best to sleep as our adventure truly began.
We woke up and looked out of the window. I could see beautiful lamps and mountains. We were close. It was 5am.
'Yangshuo, Yangshuo'. It was our stop.
We disembarked and were met by a man who seemed to know who we were and where we were staying. We had emailed ahead to say we were arriving at 5am and to look out for us. We assumed he was from the hostel. He told us we couldn't check in this early and we should go on a boat tour while we waited. 'Brilliant idea' we thought. The sun hadn't come up and what better way to see our destination than to jump on a boat along the Li River.
He drove us to the river bank where we met another man. He showed us to a bamboo boat and we set off.
It was silent, mystical and breathtaking. Mountains lined the river and it was the most dramatic view I had seen for a while. From Hong Kong skyscrapers to misty mountains. It truly looked like heaven on earth. I felt completely at peace with the world. My faith felt strong that we had come this far and pure creation lay ahead of us.
We ventured down the river stopping at points to take photos of the most amazing scenery. We felt like we were in The Lord of the Rings movie. There was no one to be seen as we sailed on the Li river at 6am. It started to rain and it felt like Scotland. With smiles all over our faces we waved at passers by, realising that the day had begun and the people taking photos of us had possibly never seen western before.
The man who had dropped us off met us and drove us to our hostel. We realised he was the 'bad man' we had been warned about when he tried to sell us various excursions and now appeared to be unrelated to our hostel. This being said, he had shown us a beautiful morning so we decided he was only semi-bad. It was still only just 8am. Our hostel, Monkey Janes had been recommended to us and it was dead. No one to be found.
Tired and desperate for a shower we waited for our room to be ready.
We were shown to our room and we instantly jumped into the shower. I finished, jumped into bed and instantly fell asleep. Taria woke me up and I was dazed. What had happened? We had arrived at our destination, stress free with days ahead of us and we had already been on a Chinese adventure and still had days ahead of us.
We hadn't had anything to eat for over 24 hours so we headed out for some food. We found a small place to eat, ordering the most delicious Thai fried rice and omelette. We were approached by many touts trying to sell postcards, tours and tourist tat. A lady approached us with a book. She spoke good English and we read her testimonials, written by tourists that she had taken on bicycle tours around Yangshuo. I had learnt from experience in Sri Lanka this was a good way to meet locals and see something off the beaten track. She was called Wendy and we arranged to meet outside our hostel to set off on a unique tour around Yangshuo and the surrounding countryside.
We collected push bikes and set off. Putting our trust once again in a complete stranger. There is something every liberating about having no set agenda and going with the flow of a new place. We cycled out of Yangshuo and biked though the countryside. The surroundings were outstanding. Rolling hills, green luscious views and a dramatic mountain backdrop. It was the rural China experience I had dreamed of. Biking through little Chinese villages, children playing in the streets, chickens running around, old women collecting water and old men guiding water buffalo around rice paddies.
We came to the Gold Water Cave and Wendy negotiated a good price for us. We entered and were guided around the caves underneath the mountains. Lights lit up stalagmites and stalactites. Our guide told us to use our imaginations as she described various words she knew in English. The rocks supposedly representing a dog, frog, curtain, broccoli, turtle and pig while pointing at the cave walls. We laughed at the Chinese tradition of needing to name everything. We came to a mud bath which we jumped into. It was freezing. Who knows how many miles deep into the mountain we were. No warmth from the sun to be found all the way down here. It reminded me of my school days when we used to go caving in Wales. We showered and shivered while following our guide, covered in mud, in our bikinis. We came to another bath, this time it was steaming. We instantly jumped in. It was like entering into a hot bath on a Sunday evening. Pure bliss, miles under ground, no natural light and the world a million miles away.
We emerged from the caves, tired, wet and exhausted with a long bike ride ahead of us. We asked Wendy how long it would be till we were home. She suggested going to Moon Hill so we agreed. We arrived a few minutes later and sat and had a cold beer. The day had been long and we had already achieved a huge amount. I alway think to myself while on an adventure 'if I had to leave now, would it be enough?' I knew it had already been. We had squeezed days worth of tours into our first day.
We sat and ordered a beer. We asked Wendy 'how long have you lived in Yangshou?'
Wendy told us her story. It was the most moving story I had ever heard. She explained that she had been so poor and the Chinese 'Cultural Revolution' in the 60's had meant the Chinese people were only allowed one child. She had had two daughters and one son, but had to pay for her son as the government only allowed for one child. She explained how poor she had been and that she couldn't afford to educate her children. One day she met an American named Judy who suggested she start doing tours to earn money. Wendy invited Judy to her home to meet her family. Wendy had been terribly poor, not being able to afford educating her children and struggling to survive. Judy bought her a note book, and wrote how wonderful Wendy had been and that tourists should trust her. The same book we were presented earlier at lunch. I felt moved by her story. She told us that her parents were paid 1 Yuen a day which is less that £1. She was so honest. I felt warm inside to hear her moving story. To think I have been worrying about such simple things recently and she, one in a billion, and here, sitting in front of me was someone who had almost given up hope, and then someone came and changed her life, supporting her and offering comfort through a struggle and giving her life.
We left and cycled back to Yangshuo. People lined the streets selling fruit and congregating in groups. The scenery surrounding us was still stunning. The exact picture and dream I had dreamt of.
Tired and dazed we arrived back at our hostel. We had seen and achieved so much in 24 hours. It felt like days had passed but only a few hours had gone by. I had dreamt of China, and we had arrived in my dreams.
We set our alarm for 6:30am. An early start to go and see the rice paddies two hours north of Guilin. Longsheng was our destination where the famous rice paddy fields lay for as far as the eyes could see. The bus journey would be four hours. In true Chinese style, the bus was filled to maximum capacity. We drove through Guilin, and then the rain came down. It truly was rainy season. We looked at each other and then down at our inappropriate clothing for the torrential rain outside. We killed time on the bus playing hand clapping games and 'this little piggy' with a five year old French girl sitting on her mums knee next to us. Children weren't allowed there own seats on this bus. She was very sweet, with blonde locks of hair. Her mum asking about my hair and the best way to look after it.
The rain continued. We weren't looking forward to disembarking the bus even though we had now been cooped up for over three hours. We stopped, and ran for cover. We had to change buses. We began our climb up the mountain in a smaller, local bus. Huangluo Yao Village was our destination where the long haired ladies were to perform a song and ceremony for us. The ladies had hair over 2 meters long, wrapped around their heads. We were told that the ladies only cut their hair once in their life times and traditionally no one apart from their husbands was allowed to see the full length. a tradition broken in the 80's. The show was remarkable as the women displayed their traditional songs and their flowing hair.
We followed the river round, walking over a very rickety bridge. The river was full, fast and furious as the rain continued to fall from the heavens. Back onto the bus and another climb up the mountain. The roads were very rocky and close to the edge. Deep breaths as we passed buses on the opposite side, with inches between us and the sheer cliff edge. We reached our destination and were told it was a further 20 minute hike up to our lunch destination. The path was a river. Fast gushing water with a vertical climb. We stopped to take some photos of the rice paddies which were barely visible.
We came to a restaurant on the edge of the rice paddies miles up the mountain side. The whole group looked delighted to have reached somewhere we could sit, enjoy some food and drink a cold beer. The food was more than delicious and worth every step, bus and rain drop.
We sat while the rain subsided. We walked up to the peak through the Chinese rural village on the rice paddies. The sun came out and it was beautiful. As far as the eyes could see lay rice fields on top of the mountains that lay before us. We had a four hour bus joinery ahead and we came back into Yangshuo just as the sun was setting.
The following morning we had some breakfast at the roof top bar at our hostel. The sun was shining as we enquired and booked a day kayaking down the Li River. We were collected and driven down the river. We had to watch our step as we walked past a water buffalo protecting her young calf. We settled into our kayaks and sailed down stream passing the fantastical mountain views. It was so peaceful and we were the only people on the river. A man sailed behind us in his bamboo boat 'baby sitting tourists'. The mid day sun beating down on us. Two good friends, drifting down the river in pure ore of our surroundings. We were told to head to the the river bank before we came to Liugong Village. Our baby sitting tourist man guided us through the little village where villagers sat playing cards, making jewellery and eating rice. It was obvious how poor the local people were, and evidence of this part of China being the poorest in the country. We waited for a local bus back to Yangshuo.
We arrived back at our hostel, exhausted and in desperate need of a shower. We enquired about a massage to sooth our tired shoulder from all the kayaking. We booked a massage and headed out into the village to find the local delicacy, beer fish. We came to a restaurant with it on the menu, as well as frog and dog!! We opted for the beer fish and stuffed peppers. Sitting by the stream that ambled past us, we agreed it resembled Switzerland or a small rural town in Germany. It was peaceful and the perfect afternoon to follow on from our kayaking adventure.
We had our massage and booked on to the cormorant night fishing tour. Cormorant fishing is a tradition dating back years, where local fisher men train the birds to catch fish, tying string around the birds necks to ensure their catch isn't digested by the birds. It was amazing to see this tradition. After another action packed day we wandered through the streets back to our hostel. As soon as we lay down we feel into a deep sleep.
Blue skies greeted us for our final day in China. We wanted to hire bikes to explore a little village called Fuli, which was famous for its fans. We biked off into the distance exploring little village and soaking up our surroundings for the last time. We were booked onto the overnight bus leaving Yangshuo at 9pm destined for Hong Kong.
We dropped our bikes off, 10 Yuen for the day (£1) and the heavens opened. When it rains it pours, as everyone ran for cover. We settled into an afternoon of reading and sampling the cafe cocktails. We emerged a few hours later, ready to pack and eat before our 12 hour night journey. We sat on the roof and watched the sun set for the final time, reflecting on our trip and playing cards with locals.
Our bus arrived at 9pm, and we found our beds for the night. It was a long journey back home. Another bumpy ride. The overnight bus is not for the faint hearted.
We arrived back in Shenzen, but miles from the border. The journey so close to completion but first we had to navigate a large Chinese city. A task, after little sleep was frustrating and demanding. No one speaking English as we headed in the wrong direction on a local bus, having to borrow money off two Australian travellers. We finally came to the familiar sight of Lu Wo and a sign for Hong Kong. Still little order or much evidence of how to cross. With little energy we crossed the boarder and boarded the MTR straight back to Prince Edward, a mere 30 minutes from the Chinese border, and home. It was good to be home.
China was beautiful. The poverty surprising and sometimes shocking. The landscape breathtaking and the people we met, inspiring.
