climbing huangshan

Oh man. In hindsight I am viewing it as an adventure. It was fun - until it rained and left me soaked from head to toe. That, and a horrible choice of accommodation, which made everything really, really horrible. This adds to my tally why China gives me trust issues. (As a general rule, one should always be cautious in China, particularly with public transport.)

It started off a really nice day. We took a bus from the Huangshan bus terminal, and then another bus that takes you to the foot of the mountain. There you choose between two buses and your method of ascent, east or west. My aunty drew up this diagram for me to work out our path, because she knows how useless I am. And then we started the climb. Ah, it was hard!

There are cable carts up the mountain, but everything from food to linen is carried up by some very tough and very strong men. The weight load must be a minimum of twenty kilograms. And they still managed to overtake us. One day I will master my pathetic endurance.

There were many rest stops dotting the climb. Price increases were a way to mark how high you've reached.

Some of the steps were too steep for some people, so they started using all fours. (This will likely be me at Huashan if I end up going. It looks wicked.)

And then it started. Mist then fog then pouring rain. The little shelter we were able to find (stressing the little) did not do much to prevent being completely soaked. My shoes were so wet it was still a little damp when I got home two days later.

The skies cleared a while later, but there was no sunset. The part where we go to the hotel was the upsetting part. I'm still unhappy thinking back on it. My aunt's friend booked it for us, and I thought it was a four-share room at Shilin Hotel. When my aunt told me it might be dorms, I didn't think it would be a problem. It was a four star hotel, how bad could it possibly be? This was the biggest mistake of the trip. The dorms were disgusting, even more so because of how wet everyone was. Forget the four stars. For the dorms, I don't even know if it could be classified as half a star. The room was rundown, the bathroom was filthy and wet, and they crammed ten creaking bunkbeds in there with no ventilation. It was a question of no bugs or air, and people chose no bugs. I woke up at 2am pulling open the window to gasp for air. Forget showering, the bathroom was disgusting with no towels or slippers. After eight hours of climbing, I couldn't think of a worse scenario than be in. We used the foyer bathrooms, which were decent. Decent until the next morning because people are disgusting. My wet socks and shoes were still wet the next day because of the lack of ventilation in the room. I had brought a spare change of socks, but that was immediately nullified with the wet shoes.

We stayed overnight for the sunrise but there was no sunrise. If I knew the conditions of the accommodation, I would've taken the last cable cart down to Tangkou, where we could've gotten proper rooms for a fraction of the price we paid for the dorms. It was a miserable night and morning for me.

'Sunrise'.

We took the cable cart down immediately in the morning. First thing we did in Hongcun was check in and shower.

And after Huangshan visit #2, I'm still after the sunrise and sunset shots.

hongcun, anhui

"Where are you from?" the Chinese man asked my friends and I when we were climbing Huangshan. He asked because we spoke English to each other. He was not the first and not the last that day - but he was the one who replied "Impossible!" to my answer of "Australia". To most of the Chinese, only white people can be from Australia. It's a bit of an oxymoron - they demand to know why you speak English, but you can't say a Western country because you look Asian, not matter how poor your grasp of Chinese. If they weren't being rude and demanding (rare), or if I'm feeling particularly nice (it does happen), I'll tell them my mum's hometown of Huangshan, where I was born. Though I probably know and feel more comfortable in Beijing than Huangshan, where in the space of a day: a) I got ripped off when buying a bottle of water; and b) failed to grasp how to order at a restaurant my aunt recommended and have been to before (she ended up riding a bike over to order for us). But Huangshan is my hometown by Chinese definitions and three of my friends visited me for a few days while I was with family.

After a horrendous night on Huangshan, which I'll save for another entry - I'm still a little scarred - we went straight to Hongcun, a UNESCO heritage site. It's also known as where they shot a portion of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. It was my second visit to the village. I went there last year as part of those prima-facie-$99 tour aimed at ex-pats. Who goes on a tour to their hometown? Me! But I really fell in love with the place, and I suggested it to my friends when they were planning their visit.

Despite it being the middle of Summer, the time we spent in Hongcun was wet and grey. Fortunately it didn't rain until night, so we were able to take some photos. Because it was Summer, lily pads covered a portion of the pond, which was lovely. (However, Hongcun in February last year, at the end of Winter, blew me away. You also get to miss the brunt of tourists, which is fantastic.)

This was how clear the water was on an overcast day. It's really a sight to behold when there is absolutely no wind and the sky is blue.

Wearing sneakers with my qipao - no sir, I don't think I'll have a future as fashion blogger any time soon. Or any time at all. (But for all the sane and practical reasons, the only shoes I had on me were the sneakers I climbed up Huangshan in. Champion!)

Water caught in the centre of the plants...shine bright like a diamond. (Yes, that was a terrible Rihanna reference.)

Sometimes China feels too much to handle - too many people, too fast, too loud, too many assaults to the senses. Hongcun was a nice, lovely respite. Unless you are a local, you have to pay an entrance fee of around 100RMB (half price if you are concession - not really advertised, but my aunt told me and I asked the desk). This means if you spend a night inside the village, which we did, you get to enjoy and explore a slice of historical China without crowds of tourists. In a small and beautiful village like Hongcun, with very narrow alleyways, this is a blessing. There is a small convenience store and many family restaurants, and prices were all very reasonable. A lot of the hotels are converted homes, like the one we stayed in, and really charming. (And I'm trying not to say it, but I can't find another way to describe it, so yes, the homes converted to hotels are up to western standards if you make sure to book one with western-style bathrooms.)

For the cost of 6RMB (1AUD) per person, this was our breakfast. (And the corn our hostess told us they grow themselves.)

The hotel complex wasn't very big so it felt very homey. We had dinner late and the hostess left it on a table outside our rooms, next to the pond that runs through the centre of hotel. Such a nice difference to how miserable we were the previous night.

One of my friends and I woke up at five the next morning, hoping there might be a sunrise. There was no sunrise, but it was very nice and peaceful. Except for the three humping dogs that followed us around.