To the river...

Following the traumas of Guangzhou, we were most relieved to depart on the sleeper bus to Guilin, a small city further North.   According to the Lonely Planet's guide to China (which without we'd be lost ), the bus would take twelve hours.  So we were prepared for a long night on this surprisingly comfortable bus, arriving in Guilin at 8.30 the next morning - an effective way of getting us to our destination whilst saving us one nights accommodation costs!  What we were not prepared for was Lonely Planet lying to us.  The bus took seven hours, and so, at 3.30am, we were deposited, half asleep, on the side of the road in Guilin.  Thankfully a taxi was more than happy to take us to our hostel, and so we paid the extra night and crashed out.

Guilin is a much quieter city that sits on the banks of the Li River, and, though pretty, travellers tend to use it just as an access to Yangshou (as we were). But we spent a couple of nights here, the second of which we were adopted by two residents (one Chinese, the other Canadian), who took us out for an amazing meal, ordered things we would have been too scared to try and paid for it too; a total blessing when you are on the road on a budget.  They also helped us with our Mandarin pronunciation, which we are attempting, much to the amusement of the locals!

The next day we headed for Yangshou, which, although covered by the mist of winter, is as astoundingly beautiful as pictures suggest.  Surrounded by hundreds of limestone mountains, the scenery around this small tourist town is something us Brits could only begin to imagine.  (Check it out on Google - our photos do not do it justice.)

After checking into a hostel, we rented some slightly dodgy bikes and headed for the infamous Moon Hill.  It was quite a site to see, and after a steep, sweaty climb, gave us an incredible view of the surrounding landscape.  At the recommendation of some Dutch travellers, we took the scenic route back to town, which, without a doubt, made for our most enjoyable day yet.

Hong Kong seemed a world away amongst the paddy fields, farming villages and limestone peaks.  The natural beauty we had the privilege of being audience to that day was like the things dreams are made of, and no words could do it justice.  Scene after scene of farmers tending to their rich crops have encouraged my vegetable garden vision.  Life is different here, the kind of China we had expected to see, and I am in envy of its simplicity.  In the UK, we're all jumping on the Eco-friendly bandwagon, but here, that is just life, as it always has been.

What we hadn't accounted for in this picturesque little place is how cold it would be. Travelling to Yangshou has taken us considerably further North in the province, and though not experiencing the winter woes of home, we are freezing and looking forward to the warmer weather of Vietnam.

Today it is 12 degrees and we are recouping.  I am wearing both my jumpers and have my pajamas under my trousers.  Phil's toes hurt so he is rocking the ultimate socks-and-sandals tourist combo.