I wanted to write more often throughout this trip, but it turns out there are an awful lot of vegan buffets to sample in this corner of the world. Add to that an almost-inevitable case of 'the squits', which did go away, only to rear its ugly head again earlier today; and there's the increasing paranoia brought on by the police checkpoints between cities, where I am ordered off the bus and poor Zoe has to go through everything on our itinerary to persuade them to let us continue. Should I even be writing this? I'm not even sure of the rules any more.
Anyway, we're currently spending our final day in Dali, after extending our stay on a whim by two days to four. Sorry, Mr Policeman. Across the road from our hotel is a vibrant and bustling ancient city. Within its walls, a grid system of stone tile pathways and roads act as premises for countless small businesses. Many are permanent restaurants, or street food vendors, dealing in local cuisine rich in mint, fish mint (鱼腥草; “yúxīng cǎo”) and lashings of chilli, while some are gift shops, selling miniature gourds or premature plasticised sweetcorns turned into fridge magnets. Naturally, fans of bracelets will find themselves in heaven, too.
Sitting at around 2,000 metres in altitude, I naively thought it would feel cooler here, particularly in the evenings. But, no, this is China, it's summer, and the humidity and heat feels just as it does in the lower, more eastern centres. To the west of town, lies Cangshan or the Cang Mountain Range, some 1,500-2,000 metres higher again. Malong, the highest peak on the range tops out at 4,122 metres. Surely, no humidity to worry about up there?
To the east, sits Erhai, a 40km long alpine fault lake. Our hotel offered us a deal on a coach trip, with stops, around the lake, which we snapped up a few days ago. Aside from the ancient towns, crammed with market stalls, selling wet dreams to bracelet lovers, there were also a couple of highlights:
Cycling the lake front at Taoyuan Village 桃源村
First stop of the tour and we were herded off the bus and led into a small shop, crammed wall-to-wall with bikes of all shapes and sizes.
"Choose your bike," Zoe told me. "We have one hour."
I quickly settled on a mountain bike, with 'Outlook' written on the black top tube. If nothing else, this one would let me read my emails, I thought, and began to untangle it from the stack. A wrinkled man, with arms as slender as the cigarette that dangled from his lips appeared and quickly gave the seat a polish for me. Then we were off.
We followed our older tour compatriots down the road for the first 100 metres, before lifting the bikes over a gate and onto a lakeside cycleway. Then, we burnt rubber and lost them.
The hour gave us enough time to complete the flat and easy path in a northerly direction, sip a delicious coconut iced coffee from a glass shaped as a tree-trunk and explore some of the path to the south. It was a welcome burst of exercise in an otherwise lazy day.
Climbing the Ideal State
The second most exciting part of the bus tour was Climbing the Ideal State, a resort replica of Greece's Santorini, on the eastern shores of Erhai. We entered at ground level and climbed the outdoor steps up the giant concrete thing. According to Zoe, the tour guide had said it used to be blue, but Greece had complained, so it had been repainted. 'Dirty terracotta' and 'off-white' seem to be its new chosen colours.
Approximately halfway into our climb, we stepped out onto a viewing balcony. As we admired the lake, my Europeanness caught the eye of a middle-aged group and Zoe overheard one of the women saying she really wanted a photo with me. This is super-amusing to me, so of course I obliged.
Continuing the walk, we discovered cars were somehow able to get into the complex and drive around the slim and steep lanes. I'm not sure why. This put me on edge, having to walk swiftly to catch our bus, but with the added honk of a horn from behind every few minutes, out of the blue.
Next stop: somewhere else, on this magical mystery tour!
Do you have any questions?
Stay well, Dx