Lijiang - Climb Every Mountain, yada yada yada...
Trip Start
Mar 03, 2005
1
12
235
Trip End
Ongoing
Lijiang,
China
Sunday, April 10, 2005
It was almost a split second decision. Check-out was at 12.00.... my tum-tum seems to have quietened down... there's a minibus at 12.30... can I make it three hours without going?
Although the mini-bus driver did stop a number of times to cram in extra small children (they weren't extra small in the dwarf sense, he was cramming in extra of them. Moving on...), and hessian sacks (probably filled with dope given the number of times locals had tried to sell it to me in Dali) piled up in the middle of the exit row, thankfully the God Of The Toilets, Caroma, was smiling on me as I did survive the bus ride from old Dali to Lijiang without the need to visit the CBST.
Lijiang officially takes over as the grandest place in all of China. The new town (which is very much like every other medium sized city in China), surrounds the old town - and the old town is a sensation. Sitting at the decent height of 2,200 metres, Lijiang was subjected to a huge earthquake in the mid 90s, and the ironic part is that the new town (ie. modern construction techniques) was destroyed, but the old town (ie. bamboo, wood, stuff stuck together with mud and concrete, stucco, shingles, yada yada yada) survived majestically.
There are no vehicles allowed in the old town at all. It is a maze of cobblestone alleyways all the way, leading up the hill and around the town. I'm not one blessed with any sense of direction (I once got lost in Brighton after living in the suburb for over a year) so providing me with a maze of streets that all look very similar, is a new form of chinese torture. I have the sense of direction of a drunk sloth. Hence on the first night I managed to get so lost that I was in the housing areas of the old town, with local Tibetans and Naxis looking somewhat bemused as to why a white guy was away from the cappucino sellers in the main area. Luckily I am blessed with the persistance of a persistant sober sloth, and I located the edge of the old town, and walked around its outside until I found something familiar.
I ran into a couple from Darwin, Tony and his Indonesian wife Nur. I had met up the top of the hill outside Dali, and we agreed to split some transport costs and make our way to Yulong Xueshan, or Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, about half an hour from Lijiang. I hadn't seen the mountain previously, so I got the shock of my life as we drove just out of town at the sight of a 5,500 metre monster, chockers with ice and snow, on our doorstep.
Snow Mountain features a cable car that takes you to 4,500 metres. Given Australia's highest mountain is somewhere near 2,500m from memory, I'm a little excited about this. Alas when you put a cable car up that high, its going to be buffeted by high winds - and even though it was a perfectly clear day, allegedly it was too windy for it to operate. We actually came up with a conspiracy that there was some major malfunction, with tourists flung down the mountainside, and the government wanting to keep it hush hush.
Thankfully there is a second option - Yak Meadow. It also features a cable car ride, which takes you to 3,750 metres. This is the highest I have been in my life, excluding those times when locked into a metal tube and hurled threw the stratosphere at high speed (also known as flying in a plane). So its not Snow Mountain, but its still a decent alternative.
Yak Meadow takes you almost to the edge of the snowline, with Snow Mountain's peaks hanging over the top. It is an absolutely spectacular windblown and cold experience. There are Tibetan horse riders flying around the meadows and hills. The only thing truly missing here was the Marlboro Man. I feel like a regulation mountaineer. I've got chapped lips, cold hands, and a dry face. Hit me with some frostbite and call me Sir Edmund.
What amazes me is the outfits that the local tourists will wear at destinations that require some physical activity. If you are a local chinese male tourist in your early 30s or older, then chances high that you'll be hiking up a mountain in a jacket and tie. Here's me rugged up like the Michelin man, and in comparison there's a local who looks like he's in a $10 Del Monti special. Relax guys for goodness sake, its two degrees and you're up a flipping mountain.
Ignoring the compulsory chinese tour groups (leader with a flag raised in the air and small megaphone at the ready, all tourists wearing the same colored caps, right royal pains in the arse), Lijiang's old town market square is alive in the early evening with Tibetan dancers. Its a combination of your Zorba The Greek and Ring-A-Ring-A-Rosey style, around a small bonfire, with chanting and music, right in the middle of town. It is a truly harmonious community atmosphere.
Alas the Snow Mountain cable car was closed a second day, so back in tandem with my fellow Australian/Indonesian transport crew, we headed to Tiger Leaping Gorge. The Gorge is on the other side of the mountain range that we visited previously, so its a longer trip in our hired taxi to get there. Today's driver looks like a chinese version of BB King. He would whistle and sing sickly-sweet chinese pop songs, while driving round blind corners on the wrong side of the road at terrifying speeds.
We drove past the upper river rapids carpark, which was full of tour buses, and headed straight onto the roughest road to head further into the gorge. It was bum-callous causing driving terrain, a skinny curving rocky road stuck on a hillside with a drop of hundreds of metres right next to the edge. After a short walk at the middle rapids, with no other tourists in sight, we sat on the roof of a small guesthouse and were served the most amazing vegetarian meal while looking at the mountain peaks and their 4km shear drops to the Yangzte River below. Absolutely sensational, and something that the bus tours simply don't get. I felt victorious about it.
After a short stop at the lower rapids, where the gorge begins to open up into flatter plateaus, we turned bbbback oooontoooo the bbbbbloooody rrrrrroooough rooooad to the upper rapids. Thankfully many of the tourist buses had moved on since the morning, so there were only about 1,000 other people there. The walk down to the river was fairly steep, and thus wealthy local chinese, their lungs ruined by year of the harshest heavy tar cigarettes, are offered an alternative. They can hire two locals to carry them down to the river and back up, in a small wooden canopy contraption. It is quite possibly the most degrading looking experience, for both the locals after the little cash on offer, and the lazy bastards and bastardettes perched inside. (of course I'd have no objections if they were elderly or incapacitated). You get the feeling they think they are actually better than those making the walk with their own two legs. Yeah right.
Tony and Nur had been able to get confirmation that indeed Snow Mountain was open on the third day. So we split a cab once again (Chinese BB King made a return visit, complete with more songs) and made our way to the cable car stop off point.
The experience of getting to the stage of hopping into the cable was nothing short of chinese tourist hell, with little or no supervision or guidance from staff.
Firstly there was a push and pull of two hours outside of the "Bus Waiting Hall". The Chinese simply have no sense of the word queue. Its more "Far Queue" to their fellow tourists as the just push in. Those who know me well know that I simply can't tolerate this, so I was elbows up, pushing them back. I'm not sure if they are ignorant, stupid, or rude. A combination perhaps. They just do not seem to care if someone arrived earlier than they did.
We then made it into the "Bus Waiting Hall", with areas for three groups in a row. As a bus arrived, basically pandamonium occured, with the groups not due to get on, deciding they should rush forward. So the hall emptied into another hall, everyone trying to push in and onto the bus. Tony and I thought bugger this, and cut through the wrong way - we weren't having 100 people pushing in in front of us.
In the second hall, we were crammed in for another 20 minutes awaiting another bus. When that bus arrived everyone surged forward. Hence elbows were up again. That bus left, leaving Tony and I wedged at the door level of the hall, with 100 chinese pressing behind us, awaiting the next bus.
Now I know I'm a gentle soul. But to the Chinese, at 6'2" and closely-shaven head, I must look like a giant bouncer - because when I put my arm out to prevent them pushing and gave them the evil eye, they basically stopped. Another bus arrived and I let Tony and Nur on and pretended to be jammed in the door with my backpack as to prevent them all pushing past. Finally I "unjammed" myself and hopped aboard. But wait, its not over yet...
The bus arrived at the bottom cable car station, some 7 km's away. The rush commenced again to the next waiting area, which was thankfully a metal barrier system where only one at a time could siphon through, like a massive cattleyard. Still, the locals tried to push in, until I shoved them back behind me.
Two hours later (five hours since we commenced "queueing") we made it onto a 6 person gondola style cable car, making its way up to 4506 metres.
The ride up was fantastically steep, rising through the snowline up to glacier height. Outside it was well below zero, plus an additional factor for the gales blowing snow and ice from the peak, another kilometre skyward. Unfortunately due to the mad conditions I couldn't climb on much further, for a better view of the jade colored glacier which runs from above and down past the cable car station. But it was an awesome experience simply being up there, at that height in that weather. Yes after all the madness below, it was worth it. It gives you an appreciation of how crazy true climbers are. (you know, the ones that don't use cable cars for instance...)
I was well rugged up with gloves, beanie, thermals, two polarfleece jackets and another waterproof jacket. Once again the local gents go up to that height in bad suits and "pleather" dress shoes with no tread, or the ladies in high heels. I saw one guy walked straight out onto the ice, and promptly fell flat on his backside, and walked back inside. Hopefully it was one of the little mongrels who pushed in front of us. They were lasting a maximum of five minutes out in the conditions before hiding back inside, after waiting five hours for the experience. Adding to this was their "fitness" issues. At that height the air is thin and altitude sickness can occur, especially if you haven't acclimatised, or you aren't warm enough, or your lungs are shot from smoking Hongte cigarettes since you were 9 years old. Many of the locals were feeling the pinch, receiving help from 30 Yuan bottles of oxygen that looked like an air freshener can with a mouth piece strapped to them. Truly bizarre.
It was only a short wait to get back on the cable car back down, as we were up there until closing time. Whereas most of the locals left with some speed, clutching their chests, loved ones, and lavender toilet spray breathing cannisters. It wouldn't have been right without it - one old guy did try to push past us onto the cable car back down. Tony promptly grabbed him by the shoulders and held him there until we were back in front. It was the last straw for us, as the old guy gave us the stare all the way down to the bottom. Obviously he couldn't speak English, as Tony was calling him every name under the sun while not looking at the old guy.
In hindsight it was hilarious, but at the time we'd just about had enough of the Chinese. There are limits you can reach with them, and today was beyond the line. Sometimes I think god help them when the Olympics come around - they'll be trying to showcase their country and all the world will see will be 100,000 of them trying to push their way into the opening ceremony.
But still - worthwhile? Hell yeah.
