M-whY

Most likely I could've rented a bike, gone off on my own, and had a good time. However, I know how everyone likes seeing people in my photos, so I decided to take another guide. In preparation for another day of cycling, I tucked in a hearty breakfast, then had Mr Song ring up Ms Liu to see if she was available. Today I wanted to see Yulong Bridge, a structure my guidebook had called described as 'impressive'. I could only understand maybe half of the local dialect, but gathered that she had already been booked. A guess that Mr Song confirmed, though I'd find out later there was much more to the story.

"[I can find you someone else though,]" he said, and arranged for Ms Tao to take me around.

Ms Tao, with her bubbly personality, turned out to be an even better companion. In the interest of time, she suggested we take the main road up, and then the smaller paths back. Over the roar of the trucks and buses passing by, she asked if there was any particular reason I wanted to see Yulong Bridge.

"[No special reason. I just heard it's worth seeing. Why?]"

"[It's pretty far. Not many people want to go that far. Do you want to see Fuli Bridge then too? It's just a little farther upstream.]"

"[Is it worth seeing?]"

"[If it wasn't, would I tell you about it?]"

Since she put it that way, I had to go. Some time afterwards, we turned off the main road and onto a small path. Upon reaching Fuli Bridge, Ms Tao's effervescence lost some of her fizz.

"[Oh no! What happened to the tree?!]" she lamented. One of the two guihwa trees framing the bridge had toppled over. "[It wasn't like this last time!]"

"[When was last time?]"

"[About a year ago? I told you, tourists usually don't come this far.]" She asked a nearby farmer by how and when the tree had toppled. "[He says it happened last month. A storm knocked it over. What a shame!]"

If I had only come a month earlier. It was easy to imagine how picturesque it would've been had both trees had still been standing. Nevertheless it was a good place to relax after the long ride up. Nobody else made it up, probably a result of being missed by the Lonely Planet.

"[I'm not surprised,]" said Ms Tao. "[Most guides wouldn't even know how to get here. There's a story behind these bridges too. People say, a long time ago, a master and two pupils came to this river, and decided each to build his own bridge. The master began building Guan Brige farther upstream, one of his pupils worked on Fuli Bridge, and the other, Yulong Brige, which we'll see next. As the story goes, the two pupils finished theirs first, and went to see if their master needed help. Exasperated that he had been beaten by his students, the master took off his slipper and slammed it onto his own incomplete work, collapsing it into rubble.]"

"[So you're saying, if we kept going north, there'd be what remains of Guan Bridge?]"

"[Yes, I've seen it before when I was a kid. It's not easy to get to though, it'd take us a whole day to reach it.]"

Yulong bridge was far more accessible, being located only 20 minutes downstream. Set near a village, it received far heavier traffic, from both tourists and locals alike. Though bigger, it didn't quite have the same charm as the one we came from.

"[I told you Fuli Bridge was worth seeing,]" Ms Tao said happily.

The village presence though, meant there was food to be had, and it was as good a time to eat as any. We ended up patronizing an old couple's shop, sitting at their only table, floating on the water. Munching on roasted chestnuts, we waited for the chicken to be prepared. Caught, feathered, cleaned, and prepared, I should say, as it seemed to take forever.

I don't remember exactly what brought up the topic, but we began talking about what I did yesterday.

"[You took a bamboo raft down Yulong River, right?]"

"[Right.]"

"[From here to here?]" she indicated on a map.

"[Right, how did you know? Who told you?]"

"[I guessed.]" But the way she said it, I knew there was more, and pressed the question. "[Your guide yesterday, her name was Ms Liu? Skinny, a bit taller than me?]"

"[Right. You know her?]"

"[She's from the same village as me. But she didn't tell me anything though. Tell me, why didn't you hire her again today?]"

"[Mr Song told me she was already showing someone around.]"

Ms Tao paused for a moment. "[Maybe he doesn't know either. When he called me this morning, Ms Liu hadn't even left home yet. You know, last night, there was a big meeting in our village over you. No, it's not anything you did. The man that rowed you yesterday down Yulong River? He's Ms Liu's husband. Apparently, he rowed out of turn. See, how our village works is that there's a queue. If someone rows today, he usually has to wait a day or two until everyone else has had a chance. That way it's fair. But yesterday, when Ms Liu delivered you to the river, her husband jumped the queue and took you out of turn. Right now, a lot of people are mad at them because of this.]"

As I mulled over this new information, she added, "[So when Mr Song called this morning saying he had a man that needed a guide, I immediately guessed it was you. Don't tell him I said anything though. He probably doesn't know, and it's not really any of his business.]"

It was about then that the chicken was finally ready. Again, with the head and feet noticeably sticking out of the more appetizing parts. As promised, after eating, we took the smaller bike trails back to town. Ms Tao continued her incessant commentary, describing village life and noting differences between Western and Chinese tourists, only pausing when we stopped to ask for directions. At times, the trail became so narrow that we had to walk our bikes, or risk falling into rice paddies around us.

We passed the only tourists we'd see all day, a German couple who had taken a spill and knocked up their bikes. Their brakes had broken and were beyond repair. Even though we weren't equipped to help fix it, they were glad to see us, asking if Ms Tao was a guide, and looking relieved that they were at least going the right way.

"[You'd rarely see a Chinese couple riding bikes out here,]" she remarked to me a little while later. "[It's too rough a ride, the girl would complain non stop to her boyfriend. 'Why are you taking me out on roads like this? Why didn't we take a more comfortable tour?' They usually satisfied to be just driven around to see the main attractions like the banyan tree and Moon Hill.]" Something I experienced first-hand, when I took the chinese group tour a few days ago. No disrespect intended, but sometimes I just don't understand Chinese tourists.

At a village with some nicely preserved architecture, we took another break. Once a place that produced many high ranking officials, the homes were now abandoned, save for a few poor inhabitants who had nowhere else to go. Looking around the deserted buildings was a bit eerie, especially with the ghostly mountains not too far off. And I won't even mention the elaborate graves sprinkled throughout the region.

I had worked up my appetite again by the time we reached Yangshuo. I was keen on returning to the tourist district, rather than eating at one of the local shops, where the meat might be of questionable origin.

"[Do you really eat dog meat?]" I asked, as we passed a place advertising just that.

"[Once. I didn't like it. Actually, you know, here, gou rou (dog meat) has a secondary meaning of 'friend'. Like, 'My gou rou is coming' means 'My friend is coming'. Any friend, boy or girl, it doesn't matter. For example, I can say you are my gou rou.]"

Having gou rou in all four corners of the world... Now that's what traveling is all about!

Thanks to everyone for their support and comments! Knowing people are reading keeps me motivated to continue the updates!