Days 4-5: Tiger Leaping Gorge

MONDAY, April 25- TUESDAY, April 26

There’s been few times in my life where I’ve actually had my breath taken away (Yes, I am succumbing to a cliché for this case). Standing atop a rock formation jutting out into the Tiger Leaping Gorge, with a view up and down the length of the vast chasm, was one of those instances. Maybe it was the scenery, the sun setting over an awe-inspiring landscape on loan from heaven, or maybe it was the fact that I’d been trekking for the better part of day – either way, the air in my lungs had been temporarily stolen from me. Then out came my camera and roughly 50 shots later I was ready to move on.


LEGENDARY BEAST: The Tiger Leaping Gorge, located in China’s northwest Yunnan, is a backpacker’s dreamland. One of the deepest river canyons in the world, the gorge is 14 miles of green hills, snowcapped mountains and rugged paths, with rugged trails, cozy villages and waterfalls along the way. The gorge gets its name from a legendary tiger that, while evading hunters, jumped over the gorge at its narrowest point, which is about 100 feet.


VALLEY VILLAGES: Trekking the gorge at an enjoyable pace, if you like stopping to smell the cherry blossom flowers or visit each village, can take up to three days. Layla, my travel companion, and I would only be spending two days in the gorge at a much less leisurely walking pace. We’d leave our guesthouse in Lijiang early in the morning, arrive at a base town two hours later and begin the trek by about noon.


THE JOURNEY BEGINS: But like all things in China – chaotic and disorganized – our plan quickly fell apart due to a lack of buses, a lack of bus tickets and a lack of signs at the bus station. When we finally arrived at the base town it was pushing 2 in the afternoon. We finally got trekking around 3 p.m. after checking our larger bags at a nearby hostel. We’ll just have to walk faster, Layla and I agreed. That was a mistake.


OVERESTIMATED, BIG TIME: We started out strong, walking confidently toward the gorge on relatively stable terrain, but once we hit dirt trails and had to maneuver over boulders our pace slowed with each step. The second biggest problem was ourselves: we’d misjudged our physical capabilities since neither of us was in trekking shape. At this rate, and with my frequent breaks to stop and photograph everything around me, we wouldn’t make it to the gorge’s peak before sunset, let alone the village and guesthouses an hour beyond that. Trekking at night was out of the question. One wrong step in the dark could send us over a cliff – and then who would update this blog? Lucky for us, the cavalry was about to arrive.


RUGGED TRAILS ROLL ON AND ON: Since leaving the town at the bottom of the gorge, two men on horseback (or maybe they were mules) had followed us. They had offered to take us to the peak, for a fee but on horseback it would only take about two hours. We wanted to walk the “real way” and said no thanks.


OUR FOUR-LEGGED SHADOWS: But the duo followed anyway. Their horses were equipped with small bells on each saddle. As we went up steep hills, the bells would jingle; as we traversed rocky terrain, more jingling. There was, literally, jingling all the way as we made our way through the gorge. Jingle, jingle, jingle – it was the sound of our salvation. After about two hours of hiking on our own, and now covered in sweat and through half our water supply, we had a change of heart.


ON HORSEBACK, TIGER GORGE NOT SO HARD: Once on horseback with the two horsemen now guiding each animal on foot, we reached the peak in about two hours (it probably would have taken four or five hours otherwise), shot off another hundred photos, and made it to the village as the sun retreated behind the snow-covered peaks nearby.

On the way up to the peak, out of curiosity and now feeling like an epic failure of a traveler, I asked our guides how many times they made this trek each week. If there were travelers, one of them said, sometimes every day. Then he pulled out a cigarette, his third of the day, and lit up before pulling on the horse’s reins to move on. That’s a helluva cardio workout, I thought to myself.




RISE AND SHINE: The next morning we got up early before the afternoon heat could slow us down again. A mostly downhill trek, the second half was much easier. Since we didn’t have to rush, we were able to stop and enjoy the scenery around us.


THE PEOPLE AT WORK: Along the trail, people were busy harvesting wheat and other crops. Flowers were in bloom.


CURIOUS OBSERVER: At each sleepy town we passed we were greeted by a few farm animals, mostly chickens and horses, wandering around unattended to.


REFRESHING DISTRACTION: We passed a waterfall whose waters flowed over the path and into a ravine. The slippery rocks made it difficult to pass, but the cool waters were a nice refresher to keep us going.


MAYBE NEXT TIME: On the opposite side of the gorge was the Snow Dragon mountain. This part of the gorge was much less accessible than the side we were on.



ALL DOWNHILL FROM HERE: Three hours later, we reached the main road through the gorge and were reconnected with civilization. A group of foreigners were trying to get a bus back to a nearby town and we decided to hitch a ride too.


IMPRESSIVE, MOST IMPRESSIVE: While a tourist hotspot, the Tiger Leaping Gorge is by no means touristy. True, there was a toll to pay before entering the gorge and the two prime photo spots were guarded by aged locals who demanded a fee of about $2 per person, but the natural beauty and lack of Chinese tour buses compensated for the few minor inconveniences of the trip.


R&R: The journey through the gorge is a great place to do some soul searching, even if you think you haven’t lost yours. Stuck out there among the trees, blowing wind and winding trails had a rejuvenating effect on me. While physically exhausting, at the end of our first day I felt relaxed and comfortable, perhaps enjoying a nice hiker’s high. I slept soundly and woke up re-energized to finish the trek.



LONG WAY DOWN: Yes, the trek was fun, but the Tiger Leaping Gorge is no joke. Certain points in the trail were as narrow as three feet with a sharp drop off waiting to one side. Each year, a dozen travelers die while hiking here, but it’s easy to see why. There are just way too many spots that, while dangerous, would make for great new Facebook profile pics.


SO TOURISTY: But I couldn't resist a few of those "dangerous" shots myself.


THE WIRES: The only annoyance was wires reaching across various sections of the gorge (note the wire in the upper left hand corner of this photo). These villages may have been small and isolated but were by no means completely disconnected from the outside world. The cables ruined a few too many of my shots and I had to maneuver myself into better photographic positions without falling off the sides of cliffs.


SECOND BEST: As an added bonus, I got to see the second bend of the Yangtze River during the trek. The second bend -- not as exciting or interesting as the first bend, but just as brown.

Evening, Day 3: Passing Through Lijiang

SUNDAY, April 24

The next leg of our trip would have Layla and me dropping into a few places in northwest Yunnan. To get there we'd have to take a plane -- a bus would take about a day and after our experience on the night bus from Kunming to Jinghong we wanted to expedite the whole traveling from A to B process. We also wanted to get away from Jinghong as quickly as possible.

As we flew into Lijiang I saw trails of lights from the air. It looked like the airport but we were still too high up to make a proper landing. On the ride into the city I saw what they were: it was a highway, with tall lightpoles running down each side for miles and miles. Our driver said the government was pouring millions, if not billions, of RMB into the city to bring it up to speed with other parts of China. One day there would be highrises and houses, malls and other department stores. But for now, there was only lights.

The ride to Lijiang's old city took the better part of an hour. The airport was built way out in the boonies and to get to our hostel we had to drive over barely paved roads, then pure dirt roads. Reminded me of off roading back in Pennsylvania's Coal Region, except slightly less comfortable since my ride was a low riding cab instead of a Jeep Wrangler.

Like most cities in China, Lijiang has an "old" city. I'm sure at one point it was a nice, peaceful little place, but now it's full of hostels, bars and tourists looking to spend money on local knick knacks.

Since we were just passing through, we didn't have time, or space in our bags, to fill up on LIjiang snacks and whatnot. The next day we'd be heading to the Tiger Leaping Gorge north of the old city.

Days 2-3 - Welcome to the Jungle

SATURDAY, APRIL 23 - SUNDAY, APRIL 24
The sun was shining in through the bus' massive windows as we rolled along. The ride the night before had been harsh but as I looked out I was welcomed by a pleasant scene: tropical trees and shrubs. Welcome to the jungle, I thought.

Sadly, this part of the trip wasn’t all fun and games. I thought because Jinghong, in the Xishuangbanna region, was located far from Yunnan’s other major tourist spots in the north that it would be more real, more rugged and less touristy. I was wrong, very wrong, on all counts.

The first downer was our visit to a botanical garden near Menglun, two hours east of Jinghong. Lonely Planet and a few online travel sites I consulted beforehand alleged that this was one of the most beautiful in the region and had a wild array of tropical flora and fauna. It wasn't and it didn't. Most of the flowers were dead or dying. Their color and energy was all but lost –like my feelings for Xishuangbanna, which was quickly failing to impress. The only exotic animal I saw was a small lizard. Another animal howled at me from a distance but never revealed itself.

On our way back to Jinghong, we stopped in Menghan to see a Dai minority park. Yunnan is home to 25 of China’s 55 minority groups. The Dai are prominent in Xishuangbanna.

“Park” definitely wasn’t the best word for this place -- it was more like a minority zoo. The only difference was the minority “attractions” here could come and go as they pleased and probably weren’t going to try to eat us.

Zoo similarities aside, a re-enactment of the Dai’s water splashing festival brightened up the overall dreary and depressing atmosphere of minority exploitation.

The faux festival began calmly enough with Dai men and women clothed in a vibrant menagerie of red, blue, green and yellow dresses splashing rose petals dipped in water on everyone’s arm. This was the good luck part. The group then moved into a shallow pool surrounding a large water fountain, picked up small plastic containers and began splashing about. The water spiraled into the air and the faces of anyone within close enough proximity to the festivities.

The next day we visited what was described as a “real rainforest,” an out of the way park not many tourists knew about. Maybe this would be fun.

Wrong again.

The forest preserve was packed with loud, camera-totting Chinese tourists who took just as many pictures of me – a wild and exotic specimen if ever they saw one– as they did of the plants and trees. And since it was located next to a major highway, my fascination with the trees and lagoons was frequently interrupted by the honking of cars and trucks as they whizzed by. On top of that, the weather was a bit on the torrential side, which didn’t bother me that much since I was, after all, in a rainforest. It just slowed my ability to take lots of photos.

Part of the preserve eventually wound off into thicker jungle away from the freeway and mob of tourists. The path followed a small stream and eventually wound its way up a hill that provided a stunning view of the lower canopy of the rainforest and the ravine below.

After two days in Jinghong, I was soaked, over my budget and without a single photo of a wild monkey (I was promised wild monkeys by guidebooks and friends). But I was still glad to have trudged through the rainforest. I'll just go and check that off my list of things to do while in China.



GREEN TREES, GREEN WATER: The water in photos of the main lagoon looked a lot cleaner on websites I looked at while planning the JInghong portion of my trip. The waters in this not quite black lagoon looked murky enough to be hiding a creature or two


SPRING HAS SPRUNG: A lush rainbow array of flowers were the centerpiece of the gardens -- too bad most of them were in pretty bad condition, mostly drooping and looking like they were on the verge of completely losing their color


ME AND THE MEKONG: To get into the botanical garden, we had to cross a long suspension bridge over the Mekong River, called the Lancang in Chinese


TREE OF LIFE: This giant ficus was one of thousands of trees at the botanical garden. It also happened to have a "Danger! Poison!" sign hanging nearby, so I refrained from attempting to climb it


RANDOM TEMPLE: Gold temples like this were scattered about the countryside in Xishuangbanna -- places of worship for Buddhists


DAI HOUSES: The basements of each Dai house were open air, with the living quarters elevated. I'm assuming this is because heavy rains would otherwise flood the lower floors of each house


WATER, WATER EVERYWHERE: In Dai culture, water symbolizes purity or the ability to wash away the past and start anew. Splashing water is a gesture of goodwill toward one’s family, friends, neighbors or anyone who happens to get in the way of a water-filled bowl










HIGH FIVE BUDDHA: Xishuangbanna is a Buddhist-dominant region, although more in line with Southeast Asian buddhism as opposed to Tibetan buddhism


IT'S ELEPHANT TIME: China may be known as the land of the dragons, but Xishuangbanna is elephant country. Elephant statues, elephant carvings and elephant chairs were all over the place -- the only thing I had a hard time finding were actual elephants


BAD MONKEY: This monkey was one of three jungle animals I saw during my two days in Jinghong. As I walked past, he tried to grab my shirt and I was quick to move away, given his bloodshot eyes and weird stare


GO AWAY: A torrential downpour added to the effect of walking through the jungle at a rainforest preserve outside Jinghong. It rained, and rained, and rained some more. A pair of shoes was ruined and my backpack and our Lonely Planet guide got soaked, but the photos were worth it


IN THE JUNGLE: An elephant stands guard over the entrance to the rainforest preserve






MY NEW BFF: For 10 kuai (about $2) I got to feed this strange monkey-squirrel looking thing a piece of banana on a stick

Day 1: Kunming and the Night Bus from Hell

FRIDAY, APRIL 22

We hadn’t even landed in Kunming, Yunnan's capital, but I knew I wouldn’t like the city. From the air, a thick layer of smog lay over the city. Once in a taxi, Kunming looked just like Beijing – big buildings, too many people, and pollution. Since I wanted a break from the big city life, getting out of Kunming was priority No. 1.

The first destination of my 10-day trip to Yunnan with travel companion Layla was Jinghong in Xishuangbanna Prefecture, the province’s southern most region located next to Laos and Myanmar. Getting to Jinghong could be done in two ways: by plane or by bus.

A plane ticket would cost 1,500 RMB (a little over $200) but an overnight bus ticket was only 260 RMB ($35). I opted for the latter. Taking a train was out -- Jinghong is located in an undeveloped region that the rails have yet to reach.

The bus itself wasn't bad. Each ticket got you a little bed (bed may be an overstatement, mini coffin is more accurate) while the bus made it way south to Jinghong. My bed was located next to a small room, which I assumed to be the bathroom. I checked the door, but it was locked. I guessed we'd be stopping for bathroom breaks along the way.

We left around 9 p.m. and I fell asleep almost instantly. But around midnight i was awoken by a pounding at the door of the bus bathroom. Someone had to go and was trying to get in. With no luck, the banging stopped -- and then I heard another sound; a trickling sound. The person, a guy, was taking a leak on the bathroom door, a few feet from where I was sleeping.

Needless to say, I found it difficult to sleep after that. Worse still, I too had to use the bathroom and ended up waiting another hour and a half before we stopped at a rest station.

I eventually regained interest in falling asleep and before long the sun was rising over the rice fields and jungle of Xishuangbanna.


OLD CITY, NEW STUFF: The Old City of Kunming was more like a souped up tourist shopping area. The only thing old about it were the people within. Most of the souvenirs were knock-offs of popular Western brands


RANDOM TEMPLE: An old Southeast Asian looking temple was found in the middle of the Old City


THE LOCALS: I wasn't too impressed with Kunming, but I did enjoy watching city elders walking around the Old City area. Note the blue hat and clothes, the same that people wore during Chairman Mao's years in China


OVERNIGHT BEDS: Each bed was just big enough for one person -- one Chinese person that is. I found myself cramped and unable to sleep properly, especially after one of the other passengers found it necessary to relieve himself on the bus door before we reached a rest station


GOOD TO GO: I may be giving a thumbs up before we left the station, but by the end of the journey I definitely had to give the experience a thumbs down. The only thing that would have made the situation worse was if there had been more smokers on the bus

A Journey South of the Clouds

I've been told that if I was going to visit one place in China, before all others, it should be Yunnan (which means south of the clouds in Chinese). The province is home to almost three quarters of China's minority groups. From snow capped mountains to lush jungles, vast plains and large gorges, Yunnan has it all.

For 11 days, my former girlfriend, Layla, and I hiked, rode and flew across the province -- from Jinghong near the border with Myanmar and Laos, to the old cities of Lijiang and Dali and even the Tibertan region around Shangri-la, located near the lower reaches of the Himalayan Mountains.

Some places were a bit touristy, others just as wild and untouched by commercialization as they've been for hundreds of years, but everything was impressive. I can vouch for that based on the number of gifts I bought and photos I took (somewhere around 1,500).

Getting Ready for Another Great Adventure

Adventure hat. Check.

Brand new Canon 500D with 15 mega pixels, 200mm lens, and lots of other features I'm still trying to figure out how to use. Check.

Lonely Planet guide, without which I would be totally lost and never heard from again. Check.

I'm off today on another adventure in China. Last year, I visited Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region. This year, I'll be journeying south to Yunnan Province, a region that borders Vietnam and Myanmar. For 11 days I'll wander around the province, from jungles to mountains and even the border area with Tibet. Check for posts and pictures sometime in May.

Celebrity on a Train

It was just another Monday morning as I rode Line 2 toward Fuchengmen, the closest subway station to my office. I had just missed the morning rush and a few empty seats near the end of the bench awaited my still sleepy body. With headphones firmly planted into each ear, I sat and watched as station after station rolled by.

Somewhere along the line, the empty seats next to and across from me filled up with four older men wearing tattered brown and gray jackets. Their skin was a leathery color, much darker than some of the other people in the subway car; their clothes were a little dirty and they were carrying large duffle bags. Migrant workers, I guessed, or country folk at the least. Their skin tanned from a life of labor under the unforgiving sun.

I stared at my iPod’s screen searching for a new song, but out of the corner of my eye I could see the one guy leaning in close, as if to see what was happening on the tiny screen I was so fixated on. Nearer he drew, a bit too close for comfort actually. Then he stopped his sudden invasion of my personal space. There was a pause, then a flash. I looked up. The man sitting across from me had a camera in his hand and was giving the thumbs up to the one sitting next to me. There was laughing as they looked at the camera’s screen. The guy had taken a photo – and I was the main subject.

A few moments later, a second shooting occurred followed by more laughter from the group. I looked up briefly, smiled and turned my attention back to the iPod. Such is the life of a foreigner in Beijing.

This wasn’t the first time someone had taken my picture, although most of the time I’ll get a slight tap on the shoulder and see a smiling Chinese person holding a camera and motioning me to stand next to someone already posing in front of some landmark or tourist attraction. These discreet, spy-like encounters, while amusing, are uncommon.

In my pre-China preparation two years ago, I’d read these types of requests are fairly common for Western tourists. Often the case, Chinese tourists from the country’s hinterlands where foreigners aren’t so abundant come to big cities like Beijing or Shanghai, see the national landmarks and also run into many of their foreign tourist counterparts. With fancy cameras in hand, many will muster up the courage to tap these pale-complexioned people on the shoulders and ask for a photo.

That was probably the case with my subway encounter: the dark-skinned migrants, probably from a far off province, were taking a photo of chalk-white me to write home about. I could only image the letter or e-mail that would accompany the photo; probably something along the lines of “We saw the strangest thing on the subway today. It was dressed funny, had pasty white skin and had chords coming out of its ear as it stared at this tiny hand-held screen device!”

Or maybe they thought I was [insert name of famous movie star]. Either way, it brightened my morning.


During my first visit to Tiananmen Square, a group of high school age Chinese girls could barely hold back fits of giggles as they asked to have their photo taken with me. I was skeptical at first since I thought they were trying to sell me something but quickly agreed and had someone take a picture of me with the girls as well


Atop the Fragrant Hills outside Beijing, a cool looking Chinese dude wanted a photo with me, looking equally as cool at the time


While traveling in China’s western-most region, Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region, I stopped to enjoy the scenery of a lake and waterfall and soon found a queue of Chinese tourists admiring me and waiting to have their photo taken with the only foreigner for miles. If I’d charged a fee that time, I could have made an easy 50 kuai ($7)


In Shanghai, a young woman approached me on the Bund next to the Huangpu River and said that I was “very beautiful” before handing her camera off to a friend for a quick pic. She followed her comment with an unexpected “You should remember me forever” but ran off before I could get a name or number


While sitting on the Bund between takes for Beijing Review's Days and Nights in Shanghai DVD project, a young woman walked up and started talking with me. We talked for a while about the project and Shanghai, but I couldn't quite get her to ask me for an autograph