Chuang Duo Wu Hostel
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Travel Blogs from Lijiang
On our first leg of the journey from Guilin to Lijiang, Sarah and I were in separate cabins on the train. There was an elderly Chinese lady in Sarah’s cabin, happily slurping noodles all over Sarah’s bed. Sarah tried to explain that she was in her bed, but got nowhere, so eventually opted for a different bed. Later on that evening the old lady finally got off, and new people got on, at which point Sarah was forced back to her original (but now noodle covered) bunk. ...
... covered with what were clearly frequent rock falls and the number of accidents that we came across, one of which was really serios. Our driver was not good, but we made it back in one piece. The guesthouse for the night was nice, and Lijiang was a nice town, but it contained the usual tourist rubbish, shops and stalls and was busy, crowded and noisy. I'm so glad that we made a break from the group and stayed in Tiger Leaping Gorge for two nights. The others have all had three nights ...
I woke this morning to the sound of the music on the rubbish truck: 'Fleur de Lis'. The rubbish trucks - and even the hand carts for rubbish - all play music to announce their arrival and the tune varies depending upon the region. In other places it has been Frosty the Snowman, which confused me for ages. The scenery and sights from the truck continue to impress and the time passes ...
... river, was made even more interesting with the sight of gushing water falls rushing down crevices in the mountains adding to the movement of the river. We could hear the thunderous sound of where the river narrowed and struggled to push its way around the huge rock protruding from the river bed, before viewing it. There stood the statue of a tiger waiting to pounce on the massive rock that stood between it and the other cliff face. A solid stone ...
... une petite ville au milieu de nulle part
mais, évidemment, la présence de l'aéroport et la grande gare ferroviaire avait eu un grand impact.
Nous avons traversés la ville sous une pluie tropicale jusqu'à notre auberge, Mama Naxi. Un
beau jardin dans la cour et dans lequel nous eûmes un vrai accueil familial. ( ici la bosse c'est MAMA, pas son mari. En effet dans cette région a fleuri une ethnie Matriarcale où le rôle de la femme ...