Yangshuo
By Robert Westbrook

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I won't forget our first lunch at MC Blues Bar, sitting on the sidewalk at a table in the warm southern sun. The outdoor stereo speaker was blowing cool with Miles Davis as hip-looking international travelers strolled from cafe to cafe up and down Xi Jie, the main drag. I overheard two long-legged blonde girls trying to decide which English-language movie they would see that night -- certainly the heaviest decision they would be called upon to make all day, since the choice was so large.

Were we in Shangri-La? Had we died and gone to some Chinese heaven for foreigners? No, we were in the lovely Guangxi town of Yangshuo, which along with Dali in Yunnan is one of the two legendary destinations for backpackers in China. To a remarkable degree, the popularity of both Yangshuo and Dali has been created by the Lonely Planet, a guidebook which exerts enormous influence and directs the footsteps of most serious travelers in China. (I saw a T-shirt in a Yangshuo store: "in Lonely Planet We Trust.")

During the day, you can take boat rides up the Li River or rent bicycles and explore the countryside on narrow dirt roads that wind from village to village. Gail and I made one memorable overnight trip with Shelley, the co-owner of MC Blues Bar, to the Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces near Longsheng. Shelley works as a guide and we were glad for her services. I don't think we would have found our way without her help to the Yao minority village that is on top of the mountain and can only be reached on foot, a steep hour's climb on a confusing path.

The Yao dress in traditional clothing and live in wooden houses on top of the extraordinary rice terraces that they have carved in elaborate patterns all the way up and down the face of their mountain -- an astonishing sculpture that has taken centuries to create. Shelley knows many of the villagers and she was able to get us an invitation for dinner in one of the local peasant houses. An old woman cooked us dinner in a wok set over an open fire in a room whose walls were blackened with years of smoke. She gave us cups of homemade rice wine scooped out of a large pottery jug. The wine was similar to sake, but still had unfiltered grains of soft rice in it. Except for a single dim light bulb suspended in the cavernous darkness of the room, it felt as if we had traveled backwards in time a thousand years.

It was a perfect side trip. When we had enough of the primitive life, we made our way back to the languid pleasures of cafe life. Tequila and fresh squeezed orange juice, anyone? You bet! I'm not sure if Yangshuo really exists, or if i only dreamed it. But when you're an ex-pat in China, it is necessary from time to time to take a small escape.

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