Scene from Impression Sanjie Liu (not my photo)

Yángshuò is known as China’s backpacker haven, but there just aren’t that many here – at least, not in nearly the same numbers as in Thailand (may have something to do with the expensive and hard to get visas, or the fact that it was 5 degrees celsius when we got here, though it’s since gotten warmer).  What there are however, are Chinese tourists. Yángshuò is probably the most popular place in China for domestic tourism. And given China’s population density and ever expanding disposable income, that’s a lot of people.

That’s why even now in the off season,  there were still hundreds of people packed into the open air theater to see Impression Sanjie Liu, Zhang Yimou’s epic nighttime spectacle with the river and lit up karst mountains as backdrop.  This show put the Vietnamese water puppet show to shame. Its scale is so big that it is only conceivable in China.

Zhang is the filmmaker (Hero, House of Flying Daggers, earlier dramas like Raise High the Red Lantern) who was also responsible for the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony. Picture that transported to a riverside in Southern China, with a cast of literally hundreds of fishermen and hundreds of young girls dressed in LED enhanced ethnic garb – plus some water buffalo and cormorants- plying the river as their stage.  It’s pretty wild.

The karsts more than held their place among the dancers, singers and assorted animals though. These are similar to the beachside mountains in Tonsai, Thailand and the bayside ones in Ha Long Bay in Vietnam.  And yet different (just as each country we’ve visited has had its own flavors despite many communalities, like horn honking, sidewalk welding and fruit vendors).  For climbing, there are more vertical faces, allowing for more technical moderate climbs (as opposed to overhanging jugfests).  And there’s somehow a tranquility to these peaks; away from the battering sea air, they are less wild and deformed.

As a retrospective guide, if the post (or paragraph) includes kvetching about public transportation and lack of infrastructure, it’s probably by Mark. If it contains flowery description, parenthetical asides, and overly long run-on sentences (there I go again), it’s probably Zoe.

- Crossing the street in Hanoi: a primer by Mark and Zoe
- Driving a motorbike with one hand while carrying a parasol: a primer by Laotian school girls
- Horn honking as a defensive (and offensive) driving mechanism: a primer by Vietnamese bus drivers
- Regional variation in Coca-Cola, including can versus glass bottle comparisons
- Sticky rice: a Laotian’s best friend
- 70 km through the mountains on a ladies’ Dutch single speed bicycle
- Thai music videos: heartbreak and cell phones
- Thai karaoke videos: pretty ladies and waterfalls and wait, is she taking her shirt off?
- Ode to potable tap water
- Any road with less than 2 lanes in each direction and no median does not deserve to be called a highway, especially if there are water buffalo on it
- Small birds in cages: good luck, except in Mark’s nightmares
- The insidious proliferation of Nescafe

There’s one photo set for Laos, including the epic Mekong River ride (though we later found out another boat had it worse when they hit bottom, sprung a leak and promptly sunk) and beautiful Luang Prabang, with its myriad temples and quaint French Colonial architecture.

There’s a new set from this week in Hanoi, about half of the shots are of food, which has been amazing. We’ve been relying heavily on the street food guide SavourAsia.com and have sampled some pretty delicious variations on noodle, broth, meat and greens/herbs.

When we first arrived in Hanoi we were suffering our first bout with stomach bugs and stuck to mild pho and a delicious, eggy, challah-like cinamon raisin bread we found at a local bakery for 50 cents a loaf. We’ve since recovered and now venture further afield, and Mark is happily well enough for the famed Vietnamese coffee (usually black and sometimes with sweetened condensed milk on the bottom).

Hanoi itself is an interesting city of colonial facades, thriving commerce, and Communist propaganda. Colorful government billboards and red and yellow banners line the streets, which light up at night with Christmas lights in hammer and sickle shape. We arrived in time for the end of the lunar new year celebration with many locals making offerings (burning incense and fake money) at temples and shrines around the city for luck, prosperity and good health in 2010.

Probably the biggest hurdle we’ve faced is that there are almost no price tags on anything, so haggling skills become essential. Typical tourist price inflation is between 200 and 500% for the initial price quote; the pineapple and banana ladies seem to be the worst but it’s everything from bottled water to shoes (it’s cold enough that Zoe finally needed sneakers) and of course, taxis.

We’re going to spend a few days in Ha Long Bay and Cat Ba island relaxing, possibly rock climbing. It’s only a two hour bus ride from Hanoi, we’ll see about that.

The 2 day slow boat from Huay Xai to Luang Prabang has been described as “a floating backpacker ghetto” (thank you Wikitravel, our new favorite source of pithy travel advice). It’s a pretty apt description for a boat crammed full of Europeans smoking constantly and drinking copious amounts of Beer Lao. There were a few Lao but I think it’s rare for villagers to travel that far and for shorter trips they take motor powered canoes.

It’s dry season and the river was low; running down some minor rapids we hit bottom pretty hard and bent the rudder. We docked near a small village to check out the damage to the boat. Curious children ventured over and went into paroxysms of glee when shown their images on a digital camera. The rudder was bent pretty bad and a second tourist boat flagged over. Just when we had all squeezed on, it was decided that there wasn’t enough daylight left to make it to Pak Beng, where we were supposed to stay the night.

Instead both boats ended up sleeping on the beach/on the boat (the boat was less comfortable but marginally warmer as it actually gets chilly overnight this far north). The children’s parents descended to give us succor in the form of ramen noodles and more beer Lao. Meanwhile the boatmen attempted to bang the rudder back straight over an open campfire (unsuccessfully, as it was far from hot enough; we got a replacement boat in the morning).

Needless to say it was epic. However, it did breed some traveller camraderie. I practiced my Spanish with some Spaniards and a Peruvian and sang some Serge Gainsbourgh with some French Belgians with a guitar. Mark drank some varnish-smelling Whiskey and Coke with an Irishman and a South African woman who disliked Americans (but not all of us). Plus, the scenery was nice, and as we discovered later on a twisty turny and bumpy overnight ride to Ventiane, buses are something you want to avoid in Laos. Except tonight we’ll be hopping on another one for the 24 hour ride to Hanoi! Let’s hope the Pho is worth it.

The king’s face is everywhere. You cannot lick stamps, because his image is on them. Similarly, it’s the height of disrespect to step on a coin or bill. Every home, shop, or restaurant has at least one large photo displayed, though often an entire wall is dedicated. On the highways, long banners hang from street lamps, and at the entrance to each town his enormous visage, 10 to 15 feet high, looks out at you from gilted frames. At the Chiang Mai flower festival, his face was arranged in flowers on floats.

Through the variety of photos, we feel that we have come to know him. With his mild countenance and wire rimmed glasses, he looks less at ease in royal regalia on the throne or in military dress with a formal sword than he does posed peering intently at an open book. These are the most common photos, but occasionally there are new ones. In a cafe in Chiang Mai there was a treasure trove of older photos including one colorized shot of the Queen in a very Jackie O outfit, and another black and white shot of a younger king looking debonair in a Western style suit perched on the front of a car. His glasses haven’t changed much over the long decades of his reign.

The drive is not far, about 40km, but the first day climbing we rented a small 110cc Honda Mio scooter and returning in the evening with traffic was more excitement than Mark could handle. The food and the comfort of the back of the sangthaew (a covered pickup truck with benches) allowed us a much better second day of climbing, which included Zoe’s first real 6a (5.10a) sport lead climb. And the prepared Thai lunches were delicious.

The rock is the same Ratburi limestone karst found throughout peninsular SE Asia, however, without the salt sea air and the sheer amount of climbing traffic (as in Phra Nang) the holds are much more positive. There is even the odd offwidth crack climb. Mark’s father’s military climbing instructor would’ve proudly admonished “jam your hand in that crack!” and we did. Probably a 6b+ (5.10c/d) rated climb named ‘Destiny’; we top roped it. Though Mark did lead a 6c+ (albeit hang dog fashion) called ‘The Tree Surgeon’ which was seriously pumpy.

We met an Australian couple at breakfast/on the crag that recognized us from Tonsai where we had stayed at the same bungalows. They are traveling the same route we are, hitting the major climbing destinations between Thailand and China, only for them this is just the first few months of an 8 month trip as they move on to France and then Africa. In another coincidence, they have also been looking up Avatar showtimes at cineplexes across southeast Asia, but like us have yet to make it to a showing in theaters (we both passed on the Russian bootleg copy they showed at the bungalow restaurant in Tonsai).

Next up for climbing and culture: Laos

Click links for the Flickr sets:

Rock climbing in Southern Thailand

Cambodia and Angkor Wat

Food!

Chiang Mai and its flower festival