Lushan

  Guling, China
Saturday, July 28, 2007

Lushan (1)

Saturday I pulled into Lushan on a bus from Jiujang after a bus from Huangshanshi.  I assumed, like Tai'an is to Taishan and Tangkou is to Huangshan, that Guling would be a town at the base of Lu Mountain.  I felt somewhat surprised and the shopkeeper that sold me a map looked pretty amused when I learned that Guling is already at the top mountain.  That changed my hiking plans a bit. 

I knew I might have a bit of a challenge finding a budget place to sleep because Lushan is a very popular tourist attraction for the Chinese.  The first three guest houses that I tried were full (or maybe just weren't allowed to house foreigners) so I started hiking back uphill towards the bus station in the sweltering heat with my overweight pack hoping that some of the mid-range hotels there might have a room.  Instead, against my own advice, I accepted a room from a solicitor on the way up through the village and ended up staying in a bedroom at a family's house in the same neighborhood as Jiang Kaishek's old villa, Meilu Villa. 

Lushan (6)

While the house I ended up in lacked somewhat the same facility's as Kaishek's villa (which Mao later used), looking back I have fond memories of my first and, for now, my only stay with an actual Chinese family.  They treated me warmly, folded my laundry without asking, and did what they could within the bounds of my crappy Chinese to make me feel at home.  I had a decently sized couch, a nice full size bed, and a window overlooking the south side of the village.  Burbles from the creek echoed into my room through that window. 

Sure I certainly paid ten times as much as one probably should to stay in a guest room with no shower or air conditioning, but I don't think that on a Saturday at the top of the mountain during the high season at one of the most popular Chinese tourist destinations that I was going to find anything cheaper.  I felt happy just to get the room down from 150 to 100 yuan.

Lushan (9)

After changing into a non-sweat soaked shirt, I walked back through the village, checked out Meilu Villa, and then ended up at Xi Hu, or West Lake.  On the way to the lake I felt pretty weary and bummed from spending basically 24 hours going a relatively short distance via bus from the base of Huangshan to the top of Lushan.  I contemplated enjoying Lushan for the evening and then escaping first thing in the morning. 

Once I made it to the lake, I slowly became captivated by the place's beauty.  I had no idea that the sun would set directly between the two massive cliffs at the western end of the lake, treating me to a postcard worthy sunset.  When I hiked out to the edge of the cliff in the dusk, I realized this place deserved more of my attention than just an afternoon and an evening.  I looked out from the cliff and only then realized that Guling sits at the edge of a precipice over 1000 meters straight up from the valley floor.  I sat mesmerized as I watched the sky turn from orange to gray to black.

On my climb back up to my room from the lake and the cliffs, my joy increased as I took in wonderful aroma of dinner preparations from local apartment buildings amongst the pine tree forest between the lake and my room.  That sealed my decision to give the place a second chance. 

Lushan (4)

Looking back now I realize that Lushan's people were genuinely sincere and I met very few touts during my 24 hours there.  Everyone who talked with me earnestly wanted to know more about me and welcome me or learn about the world outside China.  I miss that now.

For example, on Sunday, after walking quietly through the forest up to the overcrowded Hanbo Terrace and then foraging and scrambling my way to the top of the ridge overlooking Guling, I had a nice conversation back in the parking lot with a Chinese history teacher while I sipped some cold tea.  He really wanted to know how one actually leaves a country, how much does it cost, what do you have to do.  Here was a wonderful teacher, obviously educated, intelligent, and aware of many things in the world who spoke marvelous English and yet he had no idea about getting visas or passports or whether you could bargain for a plane ticket or how much it cost to do such a thing.  He, like several other Chinese I have met, was totally blown that I was traveling around China by myself, without a tour group or without anyone else for that matter.  Lonely Planet China impressed him quite a bit.

Looking back on that, though, I'm starting to think, as wildly different as a lot of things in China seem (like the driving), there are a lot of things that are surprisingly similar to the United States.  I think that this lack of familiarity with independent travel is one area where generally Americans are quite similar to the Chinese.

As for the scramble up the ridge before I had that conversation, that was exactly what I needed.  As soon as I got 50 yards from the road, I escaped the crowd of Chinese tourists below me.  Much farther up, away from any trails or tour buses or vendors, I sat alone for quite awhile atop a large granite rock on the peak above Hanbo Terrace, staring out at the cities and rice paddies spread on the valley floor some 1000 meters almost directly below me in 200 degrees direction.