Off To Dali...
Trip Start
Jan 09, 2009
1
2
44
Trip End
Feb 23, 2009
Dali, Yunnan, China
Saturday, January 10, 2009
The next burning bigger question was how do you get through to Laos?
"There are buses to Luang Prabang. One leaves at 5 pm every evening. You can book here."
"I see...Are there no buses to Luang Namtha?" I was, at that juncture, quite enthusiastic about spending a few dollar bills and going trekking by hiring a guide from one of the agencies. Luang Namtha being the northernmost town seemed an ideal place to start.
"You may be able to get one from the border at Mohan. There are no direct buses from here."
"Let me think on it."
A Chinese guy with a hippyish mop of hair was busily engrossed in asking directions, using a map, from another member of staff. He couldn't help overhearing my inquiry.
"You want to go to Laos. I have a car. I can give you a lift."
"Oh! Are you the guy who put up that notice?"
"Yes, I'm looking for two people. How about it?"
I hummed and haard for a few moments. It would conveniently solve a few travel hassles. I pushed the trekking venture to the back of my mind.
"Em...er...I suppose I could go with you. When are you going?"
"On Monday. First I go to Dali and spend a night there. Would you like to come?"
"I've already been there and have seen the main sights."
"You can check out Kunming for two days."
He was getting quite persuasive about me taking a seat in his car. He would get some money back from the petrol and toll fees.
"We leave at 10 O' Clock."
"Who's 'we?'"
"A Mexican. He speaks very very good Chinese. How about you?"
"Hhmm...not brilliant." I was ashamed and embarrassed to say.
"I'll let you know shortly."
Having seen all the sights, there's not much to do in Kunming, save hang around the shops and visit an isolated temple or two. It would be a nice run out and a pleasant stop over in the old UNESCO town.
Saying an affirmative, we left at ten, in his classy white BMW model, once it was extracted from a nearby underground parking lot. And it was true, the Mexican did speak astonishingly good Mandarin having been resident in China for only 18 months.
"At first I didn't understand Ni Hao."
It was a different story now. His name was Loman, and he was in China representing the Mexican Government, helping to improve international relations.
Even though I was 'turfed out' from time to time because of the fluent Mandarin, the Chinese guy named Mac was quite serious about improving his English.
"How do you say or mean this or this?" he asked me, keeping the conversation English based as we coasted along the three-hour expressway.
It was nice getting out into some brownish rolling hills as the landscape became bathed in sunshine, a welcome relief from the cloudy skies also affecting Kunming.
After a toilet stop, a gasoline refill, we landed slowly through Dali's new town, otherwise known as Xiaguan. The thing I find attractive about Dali is the mountainous backdrop called Cangshan impressively looming at one side, while the enormous Erhai Lake spreads out towards the other. It's nice spending time sprinting around it by mountain bike, although given its size, takes all day so is best to start bright and early if you want to jump on a ferry to take the short cut back to the Old Town. The mountainous ridges had patches of snow on them as we soon found the Friends Hostel. Mac recommended we stop here. Being quite cheap I voiced no objections.
We easily sauntered around the town being on a grid system, so a nice place also to saunter by countless other tourists who meld with the maturing setting sun.
As dusk fell, I ventured out to take some pictures of the impressively lit-up gates highlighting the walled city, and shop fronts that also cottoned onto the idea. It all makes Dali infinitely attractive and an infinite attraction for other tourists.
I did take several photos of the lit-up shops and gates but unfortunately lost them - a week of photos - while I was backing them up in a Net bar in Siem Reap. Either my memory stick or the PC I was using was riddled with viruses. I hate Net bars.
Friends Hostel, although cheap, is grossly overrated if it's recommended in Lonely Planet. Half the electric points weren't working, neither were some of the lights. We split up into other rooms. Mac said I should share with Loman. Being foreigners, we could talk to each other and understand each other better, according to Mac, but also a Chinese barrier for getting further involved in Western culture, but maybe he also wanted time to himself.
Earlier, I caught sight of a peasant in a wide brimmed straw hat ferrying a large bundle of straw using two donkeys, one for riding, the other for transporting; a way of life clung-to from generations, and being systematically squeezed out in an ever shrinking world. He trotted quite briskly as I managed to capture it, but alas, have lost the photo.
