We headed out of Lijiang, for the 6 hour drive south to Dali, with Sue starting to feel a little better, though still going nil by mouth and therefore a little weak. Dali was to be our base for 3 nights and we were looking forward to getting the chance to rest in 1 place awhile.
The scenery, which had been gradually changing as we had headed out of Scichuan into Yunnan was now markedly different. Most noticeably, it was overwhelmingly rural, with the land divided for cultivation into small strips, some no bigger than a cricket pitch in size (for Americans reading this, a cricket pitch is 22 yards long by about 10 feet wide; for Aussies, we will teach you how to use one shortly!). Maybe this is some sort of crop rotation strategy, but it felt more like a series of small-holdings. Either way, the land seemed really fertile on the valley floors, with a huge range of crops being grown. Rice is clearly the staple and most of the crop had fairly recently been harvested, with the stems being cut and arranged into neat sheaves. We played a game of naming the vegetables we could see growing: wheat, corn, cabbage, bok choi, onions, tomatoes, pumpkins, spinach, soya, chillies and garlic to name a few, with many more we didn't recognise. There were also lots of people out in the fields working, wearing their traditional conical hats, just as one would imagine. In places we saw fields being burned, a practice I can't remember seeing in the UK since I was a boy returning from summer holidays in the West Country.
The villages had also changed significantly. Gone were the ugly utilitarian grey high-rises, replaced by low-rise stone or concrete homes that were mostly immaculately white-washed and finished with intricate scenery paintings in hues of black and blue, reminding us of pen and ink drawings. It felt much more like the Chinese rural idyll that many of us on the truck had in our minds eyes.
We drove across these agricultural plains and then steadily ascended towards Dali, a city of 500,000 people, which sits at an elevation of some 1,600 metres, but surrounded by even higher mountains with the 20 kilometre long EnHai lake just to the east adding to its dramatic setting.
We arrived on a sunny afternoon and our spirits were immediately raised by the relaxed feel of our guest house: a 3 storey whitewashed building, with red pillars and black, grey and blue scenes and Chinese characters painted onto the walls in the local style. The guest house was built in a horshoe shape around a garden courtyard, with a bar, pool table and comfortable seating. The staff were smiling and attentive as we arrived and we all felt immediately at home here. Interestingly, we could see straight away that there were a lot more western faces here, such a contrast to our travels to date through Russia and China.
Our hostel was the project of an Australian and his Chinese wife who had settled here in Dali, as a half-way house between her home in north-eastern China and his home in Bribane. Appropriately enough, it was named the Jade Emu and it has proved so popular that they now have a second hostel just across the street called the Jade Roo and a bookshop and restaurant.
We later found that there is a thriving ex-pat community here in Dali, which centres in the area that we are staying and down the road in the Bad Monkey bar (more on that later). It never ceases to amaze the places that one finds such communities thriving.
That evening we went no further then the Jade Roo restaurant across the street, where they saved great Chinese - Western fusion food. We had some excitement, when the waiter arrived with some sizzling chicken that almost set the whole place alight. Sue reacted fastest (no pun on fasting intended!), leaping from her seat to blow out the flames before they took hold, whilst the rest of us looked on in stunned immobility. Poor Sue settled for some steamed rice and some crumbled dried seaweed (a wonder-food, packed with nutrients that we had recently discovered for all you foodies reading), but she would be back eating properly again the next day.
On our first full day in Dali, we jumped on a tour arranged by our hostel that circum-navigated Lake EnHai, following a road that has only been fairly recently completed. It turned out to be just Sue and I and a Tibetan guy of similar age to us who was on a 2 week holiday, touring Yunnan. The weather had turned grey and misty by this stage, which was a shame because on a clear day, the lake with the snow-capped mountains beyond it is meant to be a great sight. But it was an interesting day nonetheless. The villages by the side of the lake are populated mostly by the Bai people, who ethnically have more in common with Thais than Han Chinese. We were there on Saturday 26th October and in Xizhou, the first village we came to, there was a busy weekly open-air market going on, selling fruit and vegetables, fish and meat. On the edge of the market, they were killing, plucking and chopping chickens to order and pulling fish from improvised tanks for customers to take away still flapping. On the fringes of the village, corn hung out of the houses to dry, alongside chillies and rice husks on long tarpaulin sheets.
Our driver took us on to a batique factory showroom, clearly hoping that he would earn some commission, but we were put off somewhat by the conditions in the factory (see the picture below), though as this was on show, I guess these were probably better conditions than those that many of our clothes come from. As with the chickens and fish above and below, we westerners don't like our noses being rubbed in it I suppose - speak no evil, hear no evil!
Continuing our journey, we found cormorant fishermen waiting in boats by the side of the lake. We gather that this is the only place in the world where this is practiced, though it seems that nowadays it is pretty much only done for tourists. For $10 they will take you out onto the lake and demonstrate the art of cormorant fishing whilst they sing local folk songs at you through a megaphone. We politely declined, but viewed from the bank as they took another group of tourists out. It seems pretty barbaric, but we're told the cormorants are trained from an early age and get used to it: they are attached by rope to the boat and their throats are constricted so that they can't swallow a whole fish; when they dive and catch a fish, they are pulled back into the boat and the fish taken from them to be replaced with a much smaller morsel of fish as a 'reward'. By the side of the road, they were selling the fish that had been caught, most of which had been dried or smoked, or which were being cooked on charcoal grills. For the third time in the day, we weren't tempted!
Further round the lake, we stopped at a couple of remote temples, including one which involved being rowed a couple of hundred yards out to a small island by an ancient fisherman, in an even older boat. We admired his skillful oarsmaship whilst debating whether it would be better to swim to the island or back to the mainland when the boat sank, though remarkably we were brought safely back to shore. We were entranced back on the shore by a variety of birds we hadn't seen before: one of which we were told later was a Eurasian Spotted Hoopoe (see picture below).
The area as a whole remains fairly quiet, but now the road is completed the mass tourism will soon follow. We saw a number of large new hotels under construction as we drove. On the positive side, the road is lit by lamps that each have their own mini wind turbine and solar panel attached and this not only powers them but provides some power for the local villages as well. This was one of a few encouraging signs that we have seen of Chinese authorities taking renewable energy and environmental preservation seriously.
Back in Dali, after Sue had taken her first proper feed for a few days, I went out with a few of the guys from the truck to the Bad Monkey Bar. As you would expect from a bar in a small southern Chinese city, we found an Irishman and an American from Ohio up on stage strumming away on banjos playing Bluegrass! The Bad Monkey, it turns out, is owned by an Englishman from Essex and he also brews his own beer: including a very drinkable amber ale and a stronger porter. The bar was half filled with Chinese learning how to put their thumbs in their trousers and 'Yeehaa' like a Yankie and half with western ex-pats and travellers. We got chatting with the band (who are based in Kunming and make enough money to live playing in small bars); a retired Yorkshiremen who is John Hurt's doppelgänger and who had just returned from Kunming where he played a small part as Gandalf for a Chinese TV show and the owner of our guest house, who told us some of his story.
We spent our final day in Dali just ambling around the old city, doing some shopping and catching up on our admin back at the hostel. The city was very pleasant, with the biggest feature being that the old city walls have remained almost completely intact, including four elaborate entrance gates on the compass points.
On our next post we will update you on our journey south right down to the border to Laos, which would be our 9th country traversed on our journey to date.
There are lots of pictures to share with you here, as it was such an interesting few days.
Trying to sort out our bank in the garden of the Jade Emu in Dali
Locally sourced herbal remedies in Xizhou
The Saturday market in Xizhou
The wisdom of age
Ever wondered where your 'Made in China' garments come from?
Decorations to a Dali traditional home
Cormorant fishing on Lake EnHai
When the tourists aren't watching...
An Eurasian Hoopoe
The South Gate to the old city of Dali
The Bad Monkey, centre of Dali's western ex-pat community
And finally...our new candidate for the world's worst toilet - fortunately this time not connected to our hotel room!
And finally, finally...poodling along!
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