For the final leg of Tibet we were caught up in a whirlwind of mad departures, desperate attempts to outrun road closures ahead. More road construction barred our path, they work from 8am to 8pm making it impossible to drive normal daylight hours. With two mountain ranges to cross it was going to be impossible to appreciate the views of both, if we were lucky we could squeeze in one. Well, what can I say but we were bloody lucky and copped for them both. It isn’t always the case, but sometimes the road crew stops for lunch. It just so happened we struck lucky, not only had they stopped to eat but they’d cleared their machinery out the way. We made a mad dash of over 30km trying to get there before they resumed work, and we made it. It did come at a cost though! (Photo: Sandstorm on mountain peak - Yunnan province, China)
It was another case of false promises, another failed attempt at camping. Of course I could camp by another holy lake, but it would mean getting up at 4.30am so we could make the roadblock before 8am. In all my bloody mindedness I was sorely tempted, but my spirits were too low for it. What was the point, there wasn’t actually very good places to camp anyway, and I was buggered if I was packing away all my stuff at that time of the morning. And so began the hell for leather drive to beat the roadblocks. Amazingly it all went well; though the tent hasn’t seen the light of day since I have stayed in a few reasonably nice hotels. Hot water is one luxury that didn’t seem to come in the price. Which may be very well in hot steamy countries, but in the chilly mountains it’s a touch too bracing in my opinion. (Photo: Snow Mountain - Dequin, Yunnan province)
Somewhere along the way we made the last checkpoint in Tibet, another holdup by less than intelligent police officers, frightened of allowing a foreigner through without checking with their superiors. And like most superiors, they’re never there when you really need them. I’m amazed at the state of dress of Chinese police officers in general, they may seem fairly presentable in the main cities, but out in the sticks they’re slovenly slobs. I’m assured they do receive training, that they should understand the various permits allowing me free passage. If this is the case they are either too thick to interpret the instructions given, or too scared to make the slightest mistake. Most of them look so young you’d expect them to be phoning their mums for reassurance rather than their inspectors. I should think myself lucky though, they don’t seem to get off on the same power trip the UK police do. (Photo: Shangri-la plain - Yunnan province, China)
There were no sudden changes to the landscape. We remained in gorgeous mountainous terrain, the style of housing remained the same, and indeed so did the people. A big overlap occurs, Tibetan people and influence stretches for a long way into Yunnan. Bearing in mind the centre of power in China was based in Tibet (thanks to the Mongols) sometime around the 14th century, this is hardly surprising. They remain a fairly accountable minority through half of Yunnan, long after evidence of their classic style architecture disappears. First sign of entering a region of an alternative minority ethnic group was by the apexed roofs, with up curved corners and rounded tiles. The Tibetans favour flat roofs, maybe to hold the snow and so form an insulated layer, making it easier to keep the house warm in winter. The Naxi homes are at lower altitude, it rains more so more efficient dispersal of water is necessary. They still sport fanciful decoration on the exposed woodwork, but it’s different, it’s carved but not as intricately painted as on the Tibetan houses. (Photo: Tiger Leaping Gorge - Yunnan province, China)
Snow Mountains, as the Chinese refer to glaciated peaks, draw in the domestic tourists. They don’t attain the lofty heights of their Tibetan counterparts, nor do they maintain such abundance of snow. In fact over recent years many have been slowly receding, some have vanished altogether. At least my guide could associate this with global warming, even linking it with the increased activity of local road construction. I’m not sure how accurate the latter information actual is, but I’m sure the increase in dust particles in the local environment must contribute to the rather dirty appearance of many of the glaciers in Yunnan. Most of the snowy peaks were obscured by cloud, only keeping a constant watch from my hotel window did I manage to appreciate the sun setting behind one of the most impressive. It was a little off putting watching a bunch of geriatric Australians trying their damnedest to bastardise the practice of Tai Chi, they would insist on doing this in public rather then hiding away in shame at their uncoordinated attempts at poetry in motion. But each to their own, eh? (Photo: Tiger Leaping Gorge - Yunnan province, China)
Although we’ve still been twisting and turning our way over mountain passes, our elevation has steadily dropped over the last few days. Snow Mountains or not, Yunnan in distinctly lower than Tibet. Yet it’s been delightful to note the presence of naked rock hasn’t diminished in the slightest. If anything the mountain terrain has become more stark, more unruly. As we’ve dropped in height more gorges cut through the landscape; as the waterways join forces the rivers become raging torrents. Murky waters pound their way through towards the distant sea, scouring out an ever increasing channel, giving rise to dramatic drops, spectacular views. Much of South East Asia relies on the water pouring down from this area, so the building of many new Hydroelectric dams by China does no favours to it’s southern neighbours. There are few points to cross these torrents, yet perched high on the slopes of bare rock are farmed terraces, accessible only along miles of tiny paths cutting across nightmare mountain slopes. (Photo: Romantic Lijiang - Yunnan province, China)
Reaching Shangri-la a huge waterlogged plain stretched for miles, edged by cultivated land. Cows and horses dotted grasslands, wooden frames laden with hay were everywhere. Some form of beet seemed the only other crop, the wooden frames alternated between hay and this root veg, hanging high out of harms way. Certainly with the hay it served as a means to dry it, I can’t imagine they successfully dried the beet though. Renamed in recent years, after the publication of the book, the city fails to conjure up any magical illusions. It’s newly built, in fact mainly still under construction, dirty and unwelcoming. We didn’t delay, merely passing through on our way to Tiger Leaping Gorge. Now that is impressive, and you can hike down into the lower confines of the Gorge itself. But as with everything in China, it comes at a price. At numerous points payment is requested, if anyone has set down a log of a rickety plank there is a toll. It adds up quickly and sort of takes away the sense of freedom. We managed a three hour hike in one and a half, it had me puffing a bit, but I coped rather better than my 26 year old companion. (Photo: Gorgeous valley scene - Yunnan province, China)
And so my organized tour draws to a conclusion, a few brief days and the border of Laos will greet me. A quick succession of cities await, and many thousands of acres of agricultural land. It doesn’t matter how steep the hills are, terraces line their slopes. Between the hills are vast areas of flat land, wet land, perfect for rice paddies. For the first time in China I’m faced with large scale rice production. There’s plenty of other crops, tobacco, maize, peaches, but the rice is definitely dominant. Lijiang is probably the most famous city in this part of Yunnan, one of the most ancient of cities to survive in China. It’s without doubt incredibly beautiful, a very romantic place to visit with its crystal clear, coy filled, waterways running past lantern strewn, cozy restaurants. It’s also renowned in China as a singles pick up point, or as they call it, “the place to come for one night stands”. The food stalls were brilliant, delicious grubs and maggots, the yak kebabs were a delight, though I couldn’t bring myself to try the grasshoppers or dragonflies. (Photo: Farming community with waterwheel - Yunnan province, China)
For the final leg of Tibet we were caught up in a whirlwind of mad departures, desperate attempts to outrun road closures ahead. More road construction barred our path, they work from 8am to 8pm making it impossible to drive normal daylight hours. With two mountain ranges to cross it was going to be impossible to appreciate the views of both, if we were lucky we could squeeze in one. Well, what can I say but we were bloody lucky and copped for them both. It isn’t always the case, but sometimes the road crew stops for lunch. It just so happened we struck lucky, not only had they stopped to eat but they’d cleared their machinery out the way. We made a mad dash of over 30km trying to get there before they resumed work, and we made it. It did come at a cost though! (Photo: Sandstorm on mountain peak - Yunnan province, China)
It was another case of false promises, another failed attempt at camping. Of course I could camp by another holy lake, but it would mean getting up at 4.30am so we could make the roadblock before 8am. In all my bloody mindedness I was sorely tempted, but my spirits were too low for it. What was the point, there wasn’t actually very good places to camp anyway, and I was buggered if I was packing away all my stuff at that time of the morning. And so began the hell for leather drive to beat the roadblocks. Amazingly it all went well; though the tent hasn’t seen the light of day since I have stayed in a few reasonably nice hotels. Hot water is one luxury that didn’t seem to come in the price. Which may be very well in hot steamy countries, but in the chilly mountains it’s a touch too bracing in my opinion. (Photo: Snow Mountain - Dequin, Yunnan province)
Somewhere along the way we made the last checkpoint in Tibet, another holdup by less than intelligent police officers, frightened of allowing a foreigner through without checking with their superiors. And like most superiors, they’re never there when you really need them. I’m amazed at the state of dress of Chinese police officers in general, they may seem fairly presentable in the main cities, but out in the sticks they’re slovenly slobs. I’m assured they do receive training, that they should understand the various permits allowing me free passage. If this is the case they are either too thick to interpret the instructions given, or too scared to make the slightest mistake. Most of them look so young you’d expect them to be phoning their mums for reassurance rather than their inspectors. I should think myself lucky though, they don’t seem to get off on the same power trip the UK police do. (Photo: Shangri-la plain - Yunnan province, China)
There were no sudden changes to the landscape. We remained in gorgeous mountainous terrain, the style of housing remained the same, and indeed so did the people. A big overlap occurs, Tibetan people and influence stretches for a long way into Yunnan. Bearing in mind the centre of power in China was based in Tibet (thanks to the Mongols) sometime around the 14th century, this is hardly surprising. They remain a fairly accountable minority through half of Yunnan, long after evidence of their classic style architecture disappears. First sign of entering a region of an alternative minority ethnic group was by the apexed roofs, with up curved corners and rounded tiles. The Tibetans favour flat roofs, maybe to hold the snow and so form an insulated layer, making it easier to keep the house warm in winter. The Naxi homes are at lower altitude, it rains more so more efficient dispersal of water is necessary. They still sport fanciful decoration on the exposed woodwork, but it’s different, it’s carved but not as intricately painted as on the Tibetan houses. (Photo: Tiger Leaping Gorge - Yunnan province, China)
Snow Mountains, as the Chinese refer to glaciated peaks, draw in the domestic tourists. They don’t attain the lofty heights of their Tibetan counterparts, nor do they maintain such abundance of snow. In fact over recent years many have been slowly receding, some have vanished altogether. At least my guide could associate this with global warming, even linking it with the increased activity of local road construction. I’m not sure how accurate the latter information actual is, but I’m sure the increase in dust particles in the local environment must contribute to the rather dirty appearance of many of the glaciers in Yunnan. Most of the snowy peaks were obscured by cloud, only keeping a constant watch from my hotel window did I manage to appreciate the sun setting behind one of the most impressive. It was a little off putting watching a bunch of geriatric Australians trying their damnedest to bastardise the practice of Tai Chi, they would insist on doing this in public rather then hiding away in shame at their uncoordinated attempts at poetry in motion. But each to their own, eh? (Photo: Tiger Leaping Gorge - Yunnan province, China)
Although we’ve still been twisting and turning our way over mountain passes, our elevation has steadily dropped over the last few days. Snow Mountains or not, Yunnan in distinctly lower than Tibet. Yet it’s been delightful to note the presence of naked rock hasn’t diminished in the slightest. If anything the mountain terrain has become more stark, more unruly. As we’ve dropped in height more gorges cut through the landscape; as the waterways join forces the rivers become raging torrents. Murky waters pound their way through towards the distant sea, scouring out an ever increasing channel, giving rise to dramatic drops, spectacular views. Much of South East Asia relies on the water pouring down from this area, so the building of many new Hydroelectric dams by China does no favours to it’s southern neighbours. There are few points to cross these torrents, yet perched high on the slopes of bare rock are farmed terraces, accessible only along miles of tiny paths cutting across nightmare mountain slopes. (Photo: Romantic Lijiang - Yunnan province, China)
Reaching Shangri-la a huge waterlogged plain stretched for miles, edged by cultivated land. Cows and horses dotted grasslands, wooden frames laden with hay were everywhere. Some form of beet seemed the only other crop, the wooden frames alternated between hay and this root veg, hanging high out of harms way. Certainly with the hay it served as a means to dry it, I can’t imagine they successfully dried the beet though. Renamed in recent years, after the publication of the book, the city fails to conjure up any magical illusions. It’s newly built, in fact mainly still under construction, dirty and unwelcoming. We didn’t delay, merely passing through on our way to Tiger Leaping Gorge. Now that is impressive, and you can hike down into the lower confines of the Gorge itself. But as with everything in China, it comes at a price. At numerous points payment is requested, if anyone has set down a log of a rickety plank there is a toll. It adds up quickly and sort of takes away the sense of freedom. We managed a three hour hike in one and a half, it had me puffing a bit, but I coped rather better than my 26 year old companion. (Photo: Gorgeous valley scene - Yunnan province, China)
And so my organized tour draws to a conclusion, a few brief days and the border of Laos will greet me. A quick succession of cities await, and many thousands of acres of agricultural land. It doesn’t matter how steep the hills are, terraces line their slopes. Between the hills are vast areas of flat land, wet land, perfect for rice paddies. For the first time in China I’m faced with large scale rice production. There’s plenty of other crops, tobacco, maize, peaches, but the rice is definitely dominant. Lijiang is probably the most famous city in this part of Yunnan, one of the most ancient of cities to survive in China. It’s without doubt incredibly beautiful, a very romantic place to visit with its crystal clear, coy filled, waterways running past lantern strewn, cozy restaurants. It’s also renowned in China as a singles pick up point, or as they call it, “the place to come for one night stands”. The food stalls were brilliant, delicious grubs and maggots, the yak kebabs were a delight, though I couldn’t bring myself to try the grasshoppers or dragonflies. (Photo: Farming community with waterwheel - Yunnan province, China)
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