Wuyuan (China) Road Trip - Part 3 - Jianglin Hills

Early in the morning we set off for another historic village - again it's closed for business and the local police turn us away.

The Sexy Police.

We head off to see Jianglin hills - a famous picture perfect postcard spot in China.  The area has lots of terraced farming here - and is famous in spring for what Wikipedia tells me is officially called Brassica Napus, but which normally goes by the far sexier name of rape.

NSFW

  The problem is the farmers don't want to grow the flowers because they're pretty much useless to them, but the local government want them planted because they bring in the tourists.

Sadly it's the wrong season for rape, so there was only a token field for the tourists, but after a short walk up the hill, the Jianglin hills still put on a spectacular show.

Be honest - what Google search term brought you here?

More pics can be found here here and over here

Wuyuan (China) Road Trip - Part 2

The next stop on the road-trip itinerary is Dazhang Shan Mountain.  An up-and-coming Chinese tourist spot you can see that they are expecting throngs of tourists to come through here at some point with a half finished cable-car that will soon be ready to take all those weary tourists badly in need of a rest from sitting down up the hill.  It's becoming apparent to me that in Asia a tourist spot is not really a tourist spot unless there is a cable-car involved.  They're bloody everywhere.

Walking is tiring

After parking the car, we're told in that friendly I'm-being-shouted-at chinese way by a woman selling food that tickets up up the road that way.  So we head up the road that way and reach the turnstile area with the security guard who tells us that the tickets are down the other way.  Damn you.  So we go back down the other way, purchase some tickets, and proceed that way to the turnstile.  Now to check that people don't use tickets twice (and possibly for other purposes) they have a fingerprint scanner at the entrance gate where you have to get scanned before you enter.  I couldn't get the damn thing to work with my huge caucasian fingerprints (and general caucasian thick-headedness) and eventually frustrated the security guard so much that he just let me through anyway.  
James 1 - China 0.

Dealing with James is tiring.

Walking up the hiking trail is actually rather nice.  It's rather similar to going on a bush walk in New Zealand, only twice as hot, and with lots of paving stones and stone bridges everywhere.

It looks a lot like New Zealand,

but is far more educational.

At this time of year we only see about 20 other people making the journey to the top.  I imagine the mountain will receive a lot more once the dormant cable-car overhead springs into action.


After a grueling slog up the hill in the heat we're nearly at the top and are greeting by a crappy looking 50s era power generator that's still in use, and a swing bridge.  Wen finally succumbs to the heat and I'm forced to trek on by myself while I leave her to die alone.  Further up the hill and I cross a rickety wooden bridge - the first time I've felt unsafe on this hike.  Many of the boards are rotten or missing, and the wood flexes in a disconcerting way as I walk across.


Finally I reach the first of the two great waterfalls at the top that the mountain is famous for - White Dragon Waterfall.

Not bad

Damn it's hot up here and I'm sweating like [removed for reference to your mum].  I have to backtrack down the trail to the fork in the road and go to see the Great Dragon Waterfall which I'm not going to bother uploading a photo for because it was dry and just looked like a large, slightly wet rock-face.


I head back down the hill, pause for a moment of remembrance for Wen, and arrive back near the old power generator.  We find that there's a free bus service going back down the hill which we gladly take as we're still leaking sweat like [removed again].  We have a twenty minute wait for the bus driver to wake up from his nap, and sit on the sweltering bus where the bus driver's daughter and her baby brother are hanging out.


She asked Wen [Yes, I see the plot hole - it's gaping like [removed]] a question in Chinese.  "Is that a westerner?".  
I was her first.  
"He has blue eyes" she says.  
This fascinates me as it indicates that they don't get many westerners round these parts!  I tried to talk in some simple English to her, but she says that she learned some English in school but has forgotten it.


Meanwhile, the thermometer on the bus is oscillating between 39 and 40 degrees Celsius.  That can't be right!  Well maybe it can - that would explain why I'm hotter than I've ever felt in my life, and have sweated more than I've ever sweated in my life.     


Finally the bus driver woke from his slumber, hopped in the bus and proceeded to attempt to win the World Rally Championship for Bus Drivers that was going on in imaginationland in his head.  He careened down the mountain road which is barely wide enough to squeeze two cars past, without slowing down for blind corners.  I felt safe though because he parped his horn when he went round the sharpest of corners.

A gentle portion of the ride

We make it back to the rental car alive, find a large fresh scratch down the side of the car, and drive to Woolong Valley / Hanxu Caves to find accommodation for the night.   It's not quite sundown yet but we are both exhausted and I succumb to the heat myself with a headache after carrying my heavy bags up 3 floors of stairs. Some chinese TV, a nap, and a meal are in order.

And we couldn't have picked a better spot.

Wuyuan (China) Road Trip - Part 1

Sadly, it's difficult for an "out-of-towner" to drive a car in China - you need to obtain a local driver's license which I don't really have the inclination to try and obtain - so I meet up with my buddy Wen who will be my personal chauffeur [aah those were the days] on this tour.  I don't really have much to offer on this trip other than being wonderful company and absolutely hilarious and humble.

What a cock.

A couple of hours out of Shanghai and we see a tourist sign pointing off the highway to a place called "Grand Gorge".  That sounds quite impressive - and knowing the way Chinese like to do mountains and rivers I suspect it should be quite a treat.  Turning off of the main highway and handing over some kuai at the obligatory toll-booth we cruise through a small town that is spectacularly one giant roadwork.

Quite possibly the main street of Auckland, NZ.
I think you can see John the blacksmith on the left.

After driving down a bumpy under-construction dirt road for thirty minutes along a river in a ravine, it becomes apparent that this was it, so we make a u-turn, avoiding the gravel trucks and road-workers and head back for the highway.  Perhaps they need to give the Grand Gorge a new name?

Average Gorge, China.

Heading further inland into Jianxi Province (about 6-7 hours from Shanghai) and it becomes apparent that construction is happening everywhere in this part of China. Apartment blocks, factories, shops, bridges, roads - the roadside is peppered with them for the entire journey.  Construction is especially dense anywhere near a major town or city - the local governments are obviously expecting large populations of people to move in soon.

One of the things I find fascinating about rural China is the insistance (perhaps out of necessity) that everything be done via manual labour.  If something needs moving, it's moved by hand.  If a seed needs sowing, it's done by hand.  If a crop needs reaping, it's done by hand.  It's a very common sight to see an old man or woman in their 70s walking down the road with an antique looking hoe slung over their shoulder.  Seemingly the only modern technology around here are the throngs of motorbikes and scooters - driven by old and young alike.  Some of the more pimpin' chaps zip around on their scooters with their ladies perched on the back.

Always remember to bring an umbrella

Arriving at Li Kang late in the afternoon, we find that the village is closed for -- reasons I probably shouldn't say on here - and so we set off to find the next point of interest - Sixi village.  It's getting late and we don't find it until after dark.  And boy is it dark out here in the countryside - the murky black sporadically pierced in the distance by sheet lighting off on the horizon.  Asking a man walking along the side of the road for directions he assures us that we've found it, and insists that we should come stay in his guest house.  We're the only tourists in town tonight so we have a choice of one of two rooms - one with three large black spiders on the wall, and one without.

We'll take the one without thank you.

After a delicious dinner consisting of an egg and tomato dish and beans with miscellaneous, lights go out early so we can get up at sunrise and wander the village.

Good morning Village!

So much for getting up at sunrise - it's 8am by the time we rise from our slumber after a hard day's drive. Breakfast is ready.  Delicious egg and noodles for breakfast.  It's worth noting at this point that all of the food here is "farm food" - fresh off the farm - healthy and delicious!

The head chef/husband/owner of the guest house - hard at work.

Beautiful green fields lie directly out the back door of the guest house.  We wander around the village before the tourists arrive.  It's very hot.  Trays of vegetables and spices are left out in the sun to dry.  The village is quite picturesque - flanked by green fields on either side, old houses squatted next to one another.  Running down one side is a small river - at one end powering a water-wheel - the means to washing clothes at the other, and with a lovely wooden bridge in the middle crossing to a plantation on the other side.  Luckily the only other tourists we run into are a small group of young Chinese.

Flanking Crops

Drying veges and spices

This group of Chinese is so small you can't even see them.

Down at one end of the village, we come across a very old man coming the other way.  He looks about 120 years old - but he's still going - slowly.   Overtaking on the inside, and venturing into an old derelict house, there are random pieces of broken furniture and equipment strewn about as the grass creeps in through a broken door.

Don't look behind you.

I said don't

In the corner of the derelict house is a coffin - under construction.  I can't help but think it's for the old man.


After exploring the first village we head off down the road for ten minutes and arrive at another historic village - Yancun.  This one is just like the first one but different.

As we arrive, a throng of children show up banging on the window shouting.  They want to be our tour guides for the village.  No thank you we keep insisting.  But you will miss out on learning about the 99 different types of door!  No thank you.

Look!  No doors!  I should have payed for the doors.

The village is similar to the last one, but this one has a big old bridge on it.  The locals are sitting on the bridge in the shade away from the heat - chatting loudly.

That's one of the great things about these villages - not only are they a historical tourist attraction - the locals still live, cook, eat, and sleep and whatever country folk do when they get bored after dark in these ancient houses.

More pics of the villages can be found here