Farewell me old China

I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry about leaving China, the tour had taken its toll and not in a physically arduous way. Neither was I about to sink back into the depths of despair, I’d missed first hand exposure to the delights of Tibet’s great outdoors, but it’s no good crying over spilt milk. The final days were like most others, long hours of driving and few chances of feeling a part of the passing environment. Sitting behind a car windscreen will never really do it for me, it’s too far removed from the surrounding nature, it’s too closeted. Maybe if I were the one driving I could associate better with the experience, as a passenger I feel no better than a casual viewer. Of course none of this changes the beauty we pass through, merely dilutes it to a tepid experience. If the tour had been as promised, the days sat in the car would have been marvelously offset by nights in the wilds. (Photo: Rice paddies at harvest - Nr Dali, Yunnan)

So unlike Tibet, Yunnan is Chinese in every way; intense agriculture, stylised architecture and even fewer hotels that can accept foreigners. Dali was described as a nicer version of Li Jiang, unfortunately not in my eyes. With dressed up characters of Chinese myth parading the streets, and rams attached to carriages, cutely adorned in pretty bows, all for tourist's photos, it was rather tacky. Along the main thoroughfare there was not a single establishment that wasn’t selling tourist souvenirs. The buildings were rather lackluster, in desperate need of a new coat of paint. It didn’t accentuate their age, it simply made them look uncared for. There was one nice aspect, the restaurants. Displays of fresh food lined the streets outside the old city, food harvested from the lake being abundant. (Photo: Harvesting by hand - Nr Dali, Yunnan)

A host of freshwater fish floundered in tanks, unable to move, but oxygenated by pumps. Mussels, snails, crayfish and prawns sat in buckets; actually the snails had a habit of escaping, but not to quickly. Water plants were also kept fresh in buckets of cold water, some resembled sea moss, I assumed the various bulbs were from such things as water lilies. Loads of local mushrooms were on offer, a variety of different boletus, oyster mushrooms, beefsteak fungus and even some that looked suspiciously like Fly Agaric, but couldn’t have been because they’re poisonous. It was an impressive array anyway, I really like the practice of seeing the food before you order. How better to ensure you’re eating quality food. This has been the one part of travelling through China that is exceptional, I haven’t once grumbled about the food. (Photo: Water buffalo - Dali to Pu Er road, Yunnan)

It’s strange the manner in which the Han talk about the minorities, which is the term they use when referring to different ethnic groups. Their paranoia verges on the ridiculous, they really are convinced the various minorities hate them. I shouldn’t really scoff at this idea, because they would have every right to do so. The worst of it is that each group are actually dominant within their region, despite the influx of Han business opportunists. Wherever you go the majority of businesses are run by the Han Chinese, in particular restaurants and hotels, whatever the local ethnicity. In places that have any form of tourism, or seasonal slump, the businesses will close down during the quiet period and the Han return to their home towns. So it isn’t as if there is much investment locally from their presence, they make their profit and take it out of the area. Forgive me if I’m missing the point somewhere here, but surely that would incite any local population to loathing the intrusion of outside businessmen, ask any local in wales about that one. (Photo: Maize growing terrain - Dali to Pu Er road, Yunnan)

This is particularly the case in Tibet where the Han empty out for winter. It’s a strange situation in China, people are registered in the town they’re born in. To move or work elsewhere they must gain permission, which seems to be easy if you’re from a wealthy background. It sort of puts a sham on the term communism, but there again China has a strange form of capitalist communism. There may be wide ranging areas of China with a heavy Tibetan influence, but for those within Tibet permits are rarely granted for freedom of movement outside Tibet itself. For the amount of censorship and control in China I didn’t actually feel secure making such criticism whilst in the country. Few people will voice an opinion against the party, especially to criticise the great Chairman Moa. My first guide was a perfect example, praising the actions of the leader of the cultural revolution, yet failing to realize that as an educated man he would have been sent to toil in the back of beyond. (Photo: Misty tea hills - Pu Er to the border, Yunnan)

Well I’m out now, and free of the yoke of an oppressive regime. My last two days didn’t feel like China, not while driving through the countryside. The vegetation took on a more tropical flavour, bananas sprouted from the roadside, huge stands of bamboo hung heavy over the carriageway and birds and insects filled the air with the sound of nature. We had plenty of tropical downpours too, it got to be hot and steamy. But it wasn’t just the areas we drove through, the local minority looked much more Asian than oriental. The houses were less ornate, and if my eyes didn’t deceive me, shabbier too. The countryside was hilly and generally less ordered, though in tea country the regimented rows of tea bushes dispelled this illusion. Gone were the vast acreage of rice paddy, replaced first by the slopes of tea then huge plantations of bananas. On the rough broken slopes nearing the border the land must have been useless for intense agriculture. Rubber trees inundated the near hills, only on fairly flat land could bananas be seen. (Photo: Banana plantations - Nr Laos border, Yunnan)

A great sigh of relief escaped my lips on reaching the border, so much so I gladly allowed the moneychangers to have the last of my Yuen, I was pleased to be shot of it. And so with no further ado, I ambled, unhindered, through a deserted border crossing and emerged instantly relaxed. Welcome to a land of the free Les!