Western Sichuan: Kangding, Danba, and Tagong

Hello again. We left you in Leshan in southern Sichuan province. We are now in Xi’an in Shaanxi province and are off to see the Terracotta Warriors tomorrow—one of China’s most popular tourist sites.

We got here via a substitute Tibetan tour to western Sichuan province: visiting the monasteries of Kangding, spotting watch towers in Danba, and sleeping with yaks in Tagong.

A stopover in Chengdu

Claire here.

During our overnight stop in Chengdu we sampled the famous Sichuan Hotpot. Involving a huge boiling pot of broth into which you cook various meats and vegetables. It was very yummy but we did cause much amusement amongst the locals due to our general ineptness with knowing what order to cook things in.

Monasteries in Kangding

Noticeably more Tibetan than anywhere we’ve been so far Kangding is still in many ways a Chinese town. Damp, cool and decidedly too urban for us we decided to head to Danba after a brief visit to two large monasteries.

At one monastery we saw monks debating philosophy—a stylistic debate where one party stands and makes his points with arms raised high then bringing them down into a clap. In response, the opponent—who is usually sitting—responds with a clap of his own as a point is made. The activity is an important part of monk society and is practiced at many monasteries.

Watchtowers in Danba

The bus trip to Danba took decidedly longer than usual due to road works and the construction of a huge dam along the route. Everywhere we go in China we see signs of development on a massive scale roads, dams, houses, factories the Chinese are building and building big.

Danba is set by the furiously swift Dandu River in a huge gorge a smallish town with a friendly atmosphere the main attractions are not in the town itself but in the villages on the hills around. After a leisurely morning of sleeping and blogging and some steam buns and fried bread for breakfast we headed off on foot for the village of Suopo to take a look at the 700–1200 year old stone watch towers. At up to 60 metres tall; built by the Qiang (ethnic minority) people for defence during the Qing dynasty wars they provided us with a nice contrast to China’s modern construction binge and a reminder that this place has always necessitated building and building big.

The next day we headed for the village of Jiaju. Named China’s “most beautiful village” by Chinese National Geographic it is certainly picturesque although I think this title may have been less of a blessing and more of an encumbrance. When we visited we saw many Chinese tourists in large 4 wheel drives but very few of the locals. One small boy did try to offer us some insights. Although they were in Tibetan, we appreciated the enthusiasm in which they were delivered. The stone houses were certainly beautifully preserved (restored?) and the painted woodwork with its vibrant colours and intricate details was stunning. But overall the place seemed to lack soul.

Meeting Tibetans in Tagong

Eli here.

Tibet was off limits to us, for now. But we still wanted a taste—which we got at the small Tibetan village of Tagong.

Surrounded by grasslands, impressive mountains, flapping prayer flags of all colours, and nomadic yak herders, Tagong is a peaceful place. It was our home for three days: we spent the first exploring the village and the second two on a nomadic adventure.

The Tagong Monastery was our first village stop. But we were not alone. A half Tibetan half American local girl was our impromptu, yet useful guide. At four years old, Somsto was persistently cute and engaging—and daughter of the next door cafe owner. She found us just as we checked in, spoke English with attitude, and wouldn’t leave us alone. She appeared bored, but maybe she was just quick to make friends...

[As Claire notes: Somsto is stuck somewhere between her English speaking self—where her only playmates are adults—and her Tibetan side—where even at four she is aware she’s not quite the same as her cousins and the other Tibetan children. She certainly has an interesting life ahead of her.]

The monastery was of typical Tibetan influence. Shinny prayer wheels surround the outside and golden Buddha statues encourage lamas—Tibetan monks—to pray inside. Pictures of the Dalai Lama and other important lamas are on the walls, incense is burning, and offerings of fruit and coke rest comfortably against the woodwork. It is all very spiritual. And we were quiet as we walked with our shoes off—a Somsto request.

The rest of the day we walked the streets and climbed the nearby hills in search of views. From above, Tagong is trapezoid in shape. A small mountain stream marks one side. Snow-capped Mt Yaya peers through its blanket of clouds from the opposite side. The streets are wide and busy, but unique. Nomads mingle while their motorbikes blare a funny local music—a cross between foreign-language rock and opera. Vendors offer Tibetan breads and Chinese noodles. And yak meat dries on the footpath.

But our real adventure began the next day. Passing through fields of wild flowers and small bogs, we hiked several hours over rolling hills away from Tagong to a group of nomads—a hamlet you might call it. This was their winter home: small two-storey houses made out of stone and wood, covered in yak dung, and supporting a large yard, several dogs, and a vege patch.

A short five minute walk away was their first summer home: a large, holey yak-wool tent with ropes that stretched in every direction—a home that will move up the valley as summer progresses. This was our home for the night along with 15 or so baby yaks, a fire, several large pots containing yak milk, our hostess, and her grandson.

Although our hosts were hospitable, we weren’t just guests. We were nomads. We helped do the dishes, herd the yaks, catch the baby yaks, and entertain the kids. Claire even entered the little known kicked-by-a-baby-yak-club after a disagreement over sitting space.

Dinner was wild greens and rice. Sleep was scarce as the baby and mommy yaks spent most of the night conversing in guttural “errs” and “arrs”. At times the mommy yaks would enter until they were shooed away, only to return later. It was an experience.

The next day, after enjoying tsampa—barley mixed with rancid hairy yak butter and hot water—for breakfast, we rode horses back to Tagong along a nearby ridge. The ride offered stunning views of the surrounding grasslands and a good workout for the horses. But the higher we rode the colder it got as wind from the mountains pierced our layers. Only the warmth of our horses between our legs kept us going.

We rested that night before taking a bus the next day to Kangding and another bus to Chengdu.

Passing through Chengdu on our way to Xi’an

Chengdu was once again our transport hub; staying two nights as we waited for a train to Xi’an—pronounced ‘She-arn”—in Shaanxi province. We did little.

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We would love to continue our trip further north in western Sichuan. But unfortunately the government was turning away tourists—there were reports or recent protests at monasteries in those areas. So, we decided to continue east towards Beijing and come back to Tibet in the future.

Now, as a side note: although we love telling you what we’ve been up to, we also love hearing from you. So, all comments and life updates are welcome: simply add a comment below this post or send us an email.

Love to all,

xxx

Dali, Chengdu, Emei Shan, Leshan

We left you on our way to Dali. We are now in Danba in western Sichuan Province as part of our substitute Tibetan tour. Next we head further west—towards Tibet—in an effort to get a taste for the Tibet that the Chinese Government doesn’t want us to see at the moment.

But before making it here, we relaxed in Dali, spotted pandas in Chengdu, climbed Emei Shan, and battled the crowd to see the Grand Buddha in Leshan. Our story follows.

Dali

Eli here.

Dali is a quaint little walled city with cobbled streets, stone gates, and waterwheels. Popular with Chinese tourists, it was a relaxing stop for us. In other words, we didn’t do much.

Walking the streets took up several hours, spying a small park, street-side noodle shops, and school kids by the hundred. Local ladies with colourful headpieces offered us ganga at every turn. The Dali Museum was a short stop. But with its small ceramic statues and Chinese-character inscribed gravestones our interest waned.

A side trip to the nearby Erhai lake village of Caicun was one of our only adventurous excursions. We had hoped to climb up Cang Shan—a nearby mountain range—in search of stupas and views of the lake, but the rain was not on our side.

That pretty much left food as our remaining adventure. Across the bridge noodles was a particular hit; which involved a big pot of boiling broth being progressively filled with meat, vegetables, and noodles. Perhaps owing to our perplexed looks (or our foreign origins), the waiter was kind enough to fill the pot for us rather than risk some small disaster.

Other dishes included wonton soup and cold noodles, sold street-side. Hearing of their presence and temped by the idea, we also hunted for Belgium waffles. But to no avail.

Finally, after three nights, it was time to head to our next destination: Chengdu in Sichuan Province, via that little-to-do city of Kunming.

Chengdu

Claire here.

We took the overnight train from Kunming to Chengdu and settled ourselves into Sim’s Cozy Guesthouse a large busy Hostel with lots of amenities popular with travellers.

The main reason to hang around in Chengdu apart from the wonderful Sim’s Cozy Guesthouse is to visit China’s iconic pandas at The Giant Panda Breeding Research Centre (website).

As usual we chose to forgo the organised tour for an “Eli tour” (public transport); thankfully the Chinese have taken to using roman numerals to number buses making catching city buses a relatively easy task aside from the sheer number of people they manage to pack onto a single bus.

Laid out over many acres of parkland the centre has many enclosures for pandas of various ages many who have been bred at the centre. Arriving at panda breakfast time was ideal as all the pandas we fairly active and interacting with each other. We found the pandas fascinating to watch: on several occasions we were mesmerised by their inquisitive, playful behaviour and their great love of food.

While in Chengdu it became clear that it would be impossible to get a permit to go to Tibet. The Chinese Government decided to combine the 90th anniversary celebration of the founding of the Chinese Communist Party with a “celebration” of the “reunification” of China and Tibet. The Tibetans wish to celebrate neither of these events, making protests likely. Therefore the Government has stopped issuing permits for about a month over June and July. Although no official reasons are given, it is generally believed it does not wish foreigners to witness any protests and the response from the military to such protests. If you’re not familiar with the situation in Tibet you can read about it here.

Anyway all this meant we had to change our plans around somewhat. In the end we have decided to stay in Sichuan province longer than initially planned and head west towards the Tibetan boarder. This area is ethnically and culturally Tibetan so offers a chance to experience Tibetan culture without restrictions. We will then head north to Xi’an, Beijing and Shanghai before flying to Nepal.

But first:

Emei Shan

Emei Shan (Mount Emei) is one of the Four Sacred Buddhist Mountains of China at 3099m high and covered in Buddhist monasteries it is somewhat of a pilgrimage sight for Chinese Buddhists and a popular if challenging hike amongst western tourists. There are also options to take buses and cable cars almost to the top for the less adventurous.

We arrived at Baoguo village at the base of the mountain in the early evening and quickly found ourselves some hiking companions: Emma from New Zealand and Su and Pascal from Germany. We came up with an ambitious plan to ascend most of the mountain the first day before heading to the summit early the next morning and back down by a more direct route. The next morning it was up early to catch the bus to the start of the trail.

Having decided against bamboo walking sticks at the base of the hill we soon found that rather than assisting with walking their more useful purpose is to discourage the monkeys who at various points on the track have learnt that tourists are very easy targets for food. After a rather traumatic encounter in which we lost several items of food and were generally intimidated sticks were quickly scavenged.

The stairs were seemingly endless so it was a relief to arrive at one of the monasteries for lunch where we added Chris from Guernsey to our group. As well as being good company his ability to speak Chinese made Chris a welcome companion for the next few days.

By late afternoon we were very weary and the weather had closed in meaning we were literally walking in the clouds. We were very relieved to reach our destination and in the toss-up between the very basic monastery with no showers and the hotel with hot showers the hotel won. It was early to bed with a plan to be at the summit by sunrise if the weather improved or slightly less early if it hadn’t

I was in charge of the 4am weather check and it was not a pretty sight wind, rain and thick cloud. Back to bed it was for a far more civilised waking time, it seemed the weather had cleared somewhat as we dragged our weary bodies out of bed. However by the time we reached the Golden summit about 90 minutes later visibility was so limited we couldn’t see the top of the golden stupa or the walls of the temple just a few metres away.

The decision was made given the state of the weather and weary limbs to head for the nearest car park and take the bus down. This had the added advantage of meaning we would get to Leshan earlier. We were headed to Leshan to get an extension of our visa having heard it was a particularly speedy place to do this.

Leshan

Eli here, again.

Now, you might think that with time spent in the Buddhist-influenced countries of Thailand, Cambodia and Laos that we had seen enough buddas. But you would be wrong. Leshan, it turns out, is home to the world’s tallest Buddha—the Grand Buddha.

And grand it was; with toes the size of human bodies, knees taller than most town houses, and eyes that are as large as truck tyres, it was impressively big. Grander still was the queue of people—mostly Chinese—itching to climb down to the Buddha’s feet. Queuing etiquette was in short supply however, which is something we had come to expect.

But, apart from the Buddha, there is not much to Leshan. In fact, our main reason for visiting was to extend our Chinese visas—which with a six-hour turnaround is substantially quicker than the standard five-day turnaround expected in larger cities.

But it wasn’t that simple. First, the Lonely Planet has the wrong address for the visa processing building: the actual building being a five minute cab ride away. Second, the visa processing ladies are reluctant to accept applications close to knock-off time. Third, these same ladies were reluctant to say so until after they sent us on a race-against-the-clock mission to go get passport photos. We were not impressed, but reasoned that: ‘this is China’ (TIS).

Our only other activity in Leshan was dinner with the famous Mr Yang. A delightfully cheery old Chinese man, Mr Yang offers home-cooked meals in his small apartment. The food was great and his colourful life story during China’s communist revolution was a welcome addition. Among his many careers, he was a student, an interpreter, a geologist, a fisherman, a teacher and a tour guide.

Collecting our new visas, we promptly left the city for an overnight stopover in Chengdu before a morning bus to Kangding on the start of our substitute Tibetan tour.

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That brings us up to date. Also, for those that are worried, we are not affected by the severe flooding that is going on in southwest China. But we will let you know if things change.

Love to all,

xxx

Dragons Backbone to Tiger Leaping Gorge

We are attempting to post this via email are the Great Firewall of China is currently blocking us from our blog. Hopefully it works!

Ok, so we are a little behind in our updates. We are now in Baoguo village on the eve of our climb up Emei Shan in Sichuan province, central China. But we got hear from Yangshuo via the Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces, Lijiang, the Tiger Leaping Gorge, and Dali.

This post describes out time up to Dali. Our next post will pick up from there.

Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces

Claire here.

It took two buses, a minivan, and a 40 minute hike up a hill from Yangshuo to reach the village of Tiantou—situated in what is known in English as 'The Dragons Backbone Rice Terraces'.

Tiantou has no road access, so everything that enters the village comes up on the back of a person or a pony; including some (Chinese) tourists who are carried around on saloon chairs. We were the only people we saw who carried their own bags up the hill.

The local women have a thriving industry carrying luggage of all shapes and sizes up the hills on large baskets on their backs. They were quite bemused—and a little annoyed—that we wouldn't let them carry our bags. But given they were on average twice our age and about a foot smaller, we just couldn't let them.

The Dragons Backbone Rice Terraces area is very picturesque and there are many walking trails and farmers tracks that lead to various view points.

We spent the day following the various trails admiring the views amongst the clouds, taking pictures, being bemused at the middle-aged Chinese men—with their high tech cameras huge lenses and tripods all taking nearly identical photos from the same spots—and enjoying the pleasantly cooler climate

Making our way to Lijiang

From the terraces we made our way back down by foot and bus to the city of Guilin. Our next destination Lijiang was as with many places in China a fair distance away (1700 kms).

We broke up the journey somewhat by first taking the overnight train to Kunming. Arriving mid morning, we spent the rest of the day wandering somewhat aimlessly around. There was a nice park full of people taking open air dancing classes, playing musical instruments, singing and generally enjoying the atmosphere. Apart from that and a nice cafe owned by Americans, there didn't seem much in the way of attractions in Kunming.

We had carefully planned our route to the bus station for our overnight bus using the local city bus that the Lonely Planet said would take us right past. It didn't. Thankfully the assistance of a young women who spoke no English and went far out of her way got us on another bus going the right way. Unfortunately we got off this bus to early necessitating quite a long jog to the bus station. Thankfully my propensity for needing to be exceedingly early when long distance transport is involved meant we got there in plenty of time.

Our time in Lijiang

The overnight bus to Lijiang was bumpy due to an seemingly continuous supply of road works. But we arrived to the very pleasant sight of Lijiang as the sun was rising and people were busying themselves for the market.

Our hostel was Mama Naxi's—which is somewhat famous on the Chinese backpacker trails. Mama is of the local Naxi (pronounced 'na si') minority and is a big personality. She cooks all-you-can-eat family dinners for her guests, bedecked in a tall white chef's hat. She plies hikers with bananas and generally bosses everyone around, especially Dada—her husband who supplies tea for anyone who sits down for more than a minute.

Eli here.

Lijiang is a very old city, a UNESCO world heritage city no less. The drawcard: essentially the old part of the city has remained the same for over 600 hundred years. Its cobbled streets are dissected by man-made waterways that supply pools for cleaning clothes, washing vegetables, and drinking. We spent our days wondering the streets, eating local delicacies—mostly deep-fried potato and dried yak meat—and visiting shops selling scarfs, wooden toys, and long cotton pants.

But our main reason for coming was not necessarily to compete with the hordes of domestic Chinese tourists that roam the cobbles. No. It was to visit the Tiger Leaping Gorge, only a few hours north. And that we did.

Walking through the Tiger Leaping Gorge

What is it about the Chinese and creative geographical names? The Tiger Leaping Gorge is no exception. As legend has it, a tiger—of unknown species—was seen sometime long ago jumping from one side of a gorge to a rock in the middle then over to the other side. The river it lept across: none other than the great Yangtze—one of the most important in the world, and certainly in China.

Apart from the opportunity to walk, we had to see this great rock and contemplate whether the two-stage leap was feasible. I remain skeptical...

Ok, back to the beginning. Rising early, we took a minivan from Mama Nixi's to Qiaotou at the start of the gorge. Delayed by petrol and ATM stops, and a special brand of roadworks, we made the trip in three hours. At times the road resembled an off-road rally, with vehicles of many varieties overtaking on blind corners despite the bumpy terrain. But with these antics complete, it was time to do what we came to do: walk.

Almost immediately we could spy the snowy peaks that shadow the gorge. Sharp, reflective, and covered by snow cloud, they only seemed to get further away as we climbed higher. Over the next two days we would add the steepness of the gorge and the rushing muddy might of the Yangtze to our picture collection.

Our first leg took us to the Naxi Family Guesthouse for lunch—a delightful family home serving rice as a specialty and drying corn, rice and other staples in its courtyard. From here we battled our way through the '28 bends' and down, arriving at Half Way Guesthouse for the night at hour 6.5, which displayed impressive views of the gorge below.

Along the way the locals offered rides—for a fee—on their horses and tried to charge us for taking pictures from spots that they had supposedly maintained at some cost. Resolute that these later charges were extortionate and opportunistic, we never did pay, even though these 'spots' offered the best views of the gorge. Some coincidence you might say...

After a restful sleep at Half Way and a rice porridge breakfast with floating banana, we made the two hour trek to Tina's Guesthouse. Perhaps the most dangerous leg, this trek took us past cliff faces and across mountain streams—and at the same time. Slippery though the rocks were, they were no match for my five fingers!

Wired from our walk and with hours to kill, we made the bold decision to descend from Tina's down to the gorge below. Even bolder, we opted for the steep 'ladder' path over the much safer 'meandering' path. Here, you must picture a makeshift collection of rusted metal pipes, some planks that have seen better days, and a generous supply of fencing wire. Mix it all together and you get a ladder suspended 20 meters down from one narrow ledge to another. A second ladder was a slightly more palatable 10 meters in length.

But the climb down was worth it. We saw the rock—which was an optimistic leap to say the least—and the Yangtze up close. It was a fitting end to the trek.

After returning to Tina's we took a van back to Mama Naxi's. The next day we were off to Dali.

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Oh, and in other news, we aren't going to make it to Tibet this time. The Chinese government has stopped issuing all tourist permits for the next month and a bit as the autonomous region prepares for some government sponsored commemorations. It is worried that foreign tourists may witness the Tibetan peoples' displeasure and the Chinese army's response. We are disappointed, but currently formulating a new plan.

Love to all,

xxxxx

China: Hong Kong to Yangshuo

We made it to China—a country of growth and diversity. We are now in the small hill tribe village of Tiantouzhai in Guangxi province; surrounded by what are known as the ‘Dragon’s Backbone Rice Terraces’. But that is another story.

This post is about how we got here: visa shopping in Hong Kong and bike riding around Yanghsuo.

Hong Kong

Eli here.

Massive by New Zealand population standards, Hong Kong manages to pack over seven million people onto several small islands that make up the modern metropolis. Most budget accommodation is found on Nathan Road in Kowloon. Small rooms the size of bathrooms fitted with a double bed, satellite TV, an air conditioner and an en suite are common here. And that is where we stayed—all cosy like with nowhere to stand.

Our primary mission in Hong Kong was to pick up Chinese visas—a simple process that took four days and cost HKD300 for two (about AUD36). This gave us time to explore the city.

As a shopper’s paradise, Hong Kong has some of the best buys around. We spent several hours exploring shops, malls, and markets. But with limited space in our 30 litre packs, we only managed a few “necessary” purchases: some jandals and a pair of five fingers—fancy gloves for ones feet (see link).

We did get to eat though. Halal bread stuffed with potato and Chai tea for breakfast. Indian and Thai curries for dinner. We even ate Chinese dumplings at Tim Ho Wan restaurant—supposedly the worlds cheapest Michelin Star restaurant that takes about an hour to get a seat. Michelin stars are the highly sought after world standard in restaurant rankings—with the best restaurants gaining one, two, or three stars. With its one star, Tim Ho Wan’s dumplings delivered!

For one outing I thought it nice to treat Claire to a night in a half-decent hotel and a picnic on Victoria Peak—the hill at the centre of Hong Kong island that overlooks the city. The plan was romance, but the execution was anything but. First, the weather was overcast and threatening rain. Second, my knowledge of the peak’s walkways was lacking—and it showed when I led us astray several times. And third, my picnic spread was basic, included wine but no wine glasses, and got partly squashed in my bag. Lessons were learnt.

But, on the bright side, our room in the Garden View YMCA was about three times the size of our budget room the night before and there was a pool, clean fluffy towels, and a mini bar.

One evening we strolled along the Avenue of the Stars. Mimicking Hollywood’s Walk of Fame, the avenue dedicates stars to various icons of Hong Kong’s film industry—none of whom we recognised. The avenue has one major asset though: its waterfront location, which is ideal for watching the Symphony of Lights—a supposedly dazzling light and laser show involving over 20 buildings from Hong Kong’s skyline. Unfortunately, the weather did not help. Cloud obstructed our view as the buildings flashed to music in an impressive coordination effort.

On Wednesdays many Hong Kong museums are free; and our one indulgence—the Hong Kong Museum of History—was well worth the visit. From geological processes to conflicting cultures, the museum told Hong Kong’s story through film, interactive displays, and plain old relics. Bizarrely, many domestic tourists opt to view the exhibits through cameras rather than their own eyes—making it somewhat difficult to wander the museum without starring in countless videos and pictures.

Finally, after collecting our visas, it was time to leave Hong Kong for mainland China. Taking the metro to the border, we painlessly cross into Shenzhen (in Guangdong province) and board a 10 hour overnight bus to Yanghuo (in Guangxi province). Our only gripe was the five hour wait for the bus—a slight miscalculation of transit times.

Yangshuo

Claire here.

Our first stop in China was Yangshuo in Guangxi Province. Renowned for its limestone karst scenery (huge mounds of limestone jutting out of the ground) and surrounded by the Li and Yulong rivers this part of Gangxi was certainly a picturesque introduction to China.

Arriving early in the morning we settled ourselves at the Bamboo Inn right in the centre of town. After a short rest to make up for little sleep on the overnight bus we hired some bikes and set off to explore. We followed the Yulong river through the countryside along bumpy tracks to the 600 year old stone bridge called Dragons Bridge. We opted to take the more direct and smoother main road back contending with fast moving busloads of domestic (Chinese) tourists.

Yangshuo is exceedingly popular with domestic tourists. The ever expanding Chinese middle class loves to travel; although in a very different way to us. Large air conditioned buses, guides carrying flags so the group stays together, purpose built attractions, huge cameras and buying many tacky souvenirs seem to be the standard components of most of these travellers’ holidays.

The next day we again hired bikes (the roads are pretty flat in these parts making biking easy). This time we headed to Moon Hill, so named for the moon-shaped (round) hole in its side. There were many of the slightly more adventurous Chinese tourists biking around this area too; providing me with much amusement—especially the girls riding on the back of tandem bikes holding umbrellas and wearing wildly inappropriate footwear (6-inch cork platforms) while their boyfriends did all the pedalling. I reminded Eli on several occasions how lucky he was to have me as his girlfriend!

On Monday May 30^th I turned 28. Eli knowing the way to my heart brought me coffee and birthday cake in bed complete with candles. Apparently it was somewhat of a struggle to get across the request for candles but after several shops and much persistence he succeeded. I then had a chance to catch up with some lovely friends and family via the wonders of skype and gmail chat.

Opting for a less physically active pursuit on my birthday, we took a bamboo boat cruise along the Li river. The bamboo boats are made of PVC pipes these days; but it was still a pleasant way to spend the afternoon amongst the huge peaks.

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Well that’s that. After the rice terraces, we are off to Yunnan province to wander Lijiang’s cobbled streets, dine in Dali’s cafes, and hike through the Tiger Leaping Gorge.

Love to all,

xxx