If you have never taken a river cruise anywhere, then you should. For a few hours, you can escape the rat race, the hustle and bustle of everyday life; for a few hours you can trade the sounds of traffic and the smell of exhaust for the gentle lapping of water and (if you’re lucky) the intoxicating elixir of fresh air.
I had this pleasure for four hours, cruising down the Li River from Guilin to Yangshuo.
We boarded early and our seats were next to the window on the ground floor of one of many riverboats that make the trip daily. This is where the guides all spend their time, having made this trip many times before. They prefer to sit and chat over tea whilst their charges head up to the observation deck and stand in awe of the scenery.
It is breathtakingly beautiful. On this day, there was no blue sky, even as the morning wore off; it was grey and the air was filled with mist, and yet it held us spellbound.
I stood there for hours, the silence of the river broken only by the soft hum of boats and the constant clicking of cameras. There was little talking, but now and then there was the soft buzz of a conversation.
The river is flanked by karsts – tall peaks, eroded over time into tower like structures, seen in very few parts of the world as they are here. It is scenery commonly depicted in Chinese paintings.
We were in no way alone, with so many craft on the water, but one could have been forgiven for feeling that we were. There was unexpected wildlife and here and there, the odd glimpse of a home.
Caspar stood too – for a long time – watching all the boats in front of us turn and disappear before we rounded the same corner and saw them again. He watched as chefs cooked at the back of the riverboat in front and he loved the tiny bamboo rafts and houseboats, also making the journey. When they blew their horns he burst into peals of laughter, bringing smiles to those close to us as he jumped up and down singing “Again, again!”
But eventually he went downstairs and joined the guides, where he held court and entertained them in between coming back upstairs to tell me some snippet or other.
After four idyllic hours, our destination was in sight and there was excitement that we would see another new place – Yangshuo.
Yangshuo is nestled at the base of several karsts and is split into two quite distinct sections. There is the main township, which looks like any other small town – traffic, offices, traffic lights and hustle. This held little interest for us. Caspar and I were only there a short time and so we stayed right in the middle of the tourist area…just a hop and a skip from West Street.
West Street is a hive of activity as it is filled with small stores selling all manner of souvenirs, crafts and tat. Other than this there are bars aplenty and cafes and restaurants of every type imaginable. Tiny guesthouses are the go here; they are cheap, comfortable and in the middle of all the action. Ours was in a narrow alley and was cool and very pleasant.
We wandered up and down the streets and alleys looking briefly, but Caspar wanted to go back down to the river and so finally, he wanted a ride on a bamboo raft (most of which are made from PVC pipes these days)
Once he had made up his mind, he loved it. We were so low that he could feel the spray of the water and he could shout “Hello!” to other rafters as they passed; he dared stand when our raft bounced over their wash and he lamented the fact that our raft didn’t have a dragonhead like some of the others.
We ate at street cafés and drank exotic mocktails but eventually got tired of the crowds and went back to our room where it was quieter. That wasn’t to last because the bars fire up and play loud music throughout the evening and into the wee hours, but Caspar can sleep through anything and I didn’t find it difficult.
We got up early in the morning, counting on beating the crowds, most of whom would likely sleep late. The morning was clear and it was already quite warm. The street was very quiet with many of the little shops just opening, but the craftsmen/women were already busy.
We stopped to watch a young girl weaving and a man doing Chinese calligraphy on scrolls, but the most fun was Caspar having his portrait painted onto a tee shirt. He sat very still while it was being done and he soon gathered a crowd. It took about half an hour and I was surprised by his patience, but it was obviously worth it and he was well chuffed with the outcome.
We wandered down to the river for a last look. The raft owners were not all there yet and the few that were, lazed about in the morning shadows. Local women washed clothes in the ponds and there was a general air of normalcy before the main thrust of the tourist day began. We quite happily sat and watched the river slowly come to life.
We were picked up after a last lunch and taken back to Guilin by car, and though the scenery on the way was rather nice, my heart was left on a riverboat overlooked by strange mountain peaks.
Lovely, always so amazing in desribing things. i Loved it, somtimes i felt as if i was in. Cheers. Hani, From Algeria, LSA.
Just incredible photos and great to hear of your travels x