China

We were nowhere near Beijing for the Olympics, still, we couldn't help but get excited as the opening ceremony approached. Guilin turned itself into a mini theme park, with rides and tat selling stalls on the periphery of the main square. As the countdown clock was nearing zero, a large crowd gathered beneath the large t.v. screen. We had been informed that the ceremony was scheduled to begin at 8 minutes and 8 seconds past 8 on the 8/8/08 - apparently 8 in Mandarin sounds similar to the word for wealth and prosper. The t.v. played adverts and any mention of the Olympics brought a loud, excited roar from the surrounding fans. People turned up with huge flags and we were given mini ones to wave with the rest of them. Professional photographers were snapping images of the 2000 strong throng. The Brunton's settled themselves down on the warm tiled floor, ready to watch the spectacular. Then a peculiar thing happened, well not specifically peculiar, so much as - nothing. The official start time came and went. Nothing. We waited patiently, thinking that the t.v. monitor had run into difficulty. When twenty minutes past eight came, the t.v. closed down for good, the crowd dispersed and the Brunton's were left puzzled.

No less bizarrely, but rather sweetly, we were befriended by a Chinese man with his wife and son. When he realised that we were English speakers, he asked if he could "make a friend with you?". We said yes, and while he went off to find a pen to take down our details, his wife went in search of beverages. He returned with a bic and scrap of paper, she with a variety of cold, flavoured teas. In "exchange" for our email address we received 2 bottles of iced tea. A small, inqusitive crowd had gathered around us, with mutterings of "England" when a new member joined. We felt like Z list celebrities. Meanwhile our new friends tried to coax out a telephone number and we had difficulty explaining that we didn't have one as we were travelling. Another bottle was foisted upon us (this time a flavoured milk), but we wouldn't budge. So, we shook hands goodbye and whilst they went to enjoy a meal, we went to drink their hospitality and watch the rest of the opening ceremony in the comfort of our hotel room.

Pagoda in Guilin

To appreciate some of the reputedly best scenery the Guanxi province has to offer, we took a cruise down the river Li. The irregular limestone peaks, often depicted on Chinese scroll paintings, have been contorted by the elements over thousands of years to create a surreal and oddly shaped landscape. We chose a bonafide Chinese tour over the soft English speaking guided, deluxe food option. Obviously being cultured types and not tight wads, this had EVERYTHING to do with wanting to sample Chinese tourism and NOTHING to do with it being almost half the price.

On the whole, Chinese people are small, so it was a shame that the tour company couldn't even find a bus big enough to transport us all in comfort to the boat terminal; several people had to stand. We ran into further difficulty when we were dumped off the bus and ushered into a large jewellery store, with obviously no English explanation. Reassuringly however, a number of westerners in other tour groups looked as bewildered as the Brunton's at this unexpected detour. After three quarter's of an hour of desperately trying to keep track of our tour guide (and failing) we were issued with boat tickets and herded along with thousands of others towards the boat launch. What a spectacle 50 flat bottomed boats full of tourists setting off convoy style makes. What a din a small Chinese tour guide with a microphone makes. And we'll tell you something that we don't understand....Chinese, which is why we escaped to the open viewing deck as soon as possible.

The low, misty clouds blanketing the karst peaks could have imbued a serene moodiness were it not for the constant clicking of cameras, elbows in ribs, cigarette smoke and clearing of throats accompanied by the inevitable gob on the floor. It just left us moody. Still, Lisa does have an irrational phobia of sputum, besides, the Brunton's were just put out that they were largely ignored by the other 98 passengers, who edged them out of their photo's instead of into them. And the views were really fabulous during the 4 hour journey. Along the way we spotted water buffaloes grazing in the shallow banks and lots of locals going about their business in their rowing boats on the river.

If mass tourism appeals we would suggest the boat ride. If you'd prefer to "be at one with nature" then we'd suggest you make your way to Yangshou (where the cruise ends) by bus and hire one of the many bamboo boats that tout for business at the water's edge, to take a ninety minute cruise on the Li. Apparently this still incorporates the best of the scenery, is cheaper, and ensures you wouldn't have to endure the Brunton's annoying habits.

It wasn't the stark contrast from the calm of Hong Kong train station to the bustle of Guangzhou. It wasn't the Brunton's complete ignorance of Chinese symbols, no English signs and the slim chance of having joined the correct line out of the hundreds available. It wasn't the reality of queuing for over an hour, knowing the tickets would be sold out when we got to the counter. It wasn't because the minute the ticket booth opened thousands of Chinese pushed in front, with no invitation from Andyb. It wasn't due to Lisa being verbally abused through a megaphone by an over zealous guard for daring to sit on her backpack. It wasn't even when the young boy in line urinated very close to Andyb's open toed sandals. But it was for the grim fear that we might next witness a Billy Bob squash on the train station floor that we left the madness of Guangzhou train station for the civility of the airline ticket office.