"Long hair" woman

Before heading to the big city of Shanghai, I figured I would get away from it all by heading for the Longji Dragon’s Backbone rice terraces. So I took a bus two hours to another world. A much poorer world populated by the Zhuang and several other minority people, some wearing traditional costumes. The women of the Zhuang grow their hair down to their feet, which they wrap around their heads in a sort of hat of hair.

The terraces were disorienting, and I couldn’t figure out where I was. There was a near village, which I thought I was going to, but the bus took me to the far village. It was lovely, with wooden houses set among the amazing terraced hills. A woman led me 30 minutes into the hills to a small village were her hotel was. It was of the flimsy plywood variety that anyone who hiked in Nepal know well. I had the whole place to myself. I had the whole village, consisting of five plywood hotels, to myself too, until a noisy group of Chinese tourists arrived. Once the karaoke died down it was a peaceful place. Until the owners started shouting at each other and slamming furniture around. Were they fighting? I don’t think so. It was just a typical Chinese conversation.

The next day I wanted to walk to the other village, which the people at the hotel couldn’t understand. Why would I want to walk when I could take a bus? So they took me to the road instead of the trail. Along the way there were good views of the terraces, but unfortunately at this time of year they are dry and brown.

Village on the dragon's backbone

I walked on the road for two hours, which wasn’t fun because of the honking busses and trucks. The scenery wasn’t good either. The valley was nice, but the new road was like an open sore cut across the hills. Eventually I flagged down a bus to the crossroads, then a car up to the village.

It was a beautiful place, but it was absolutely packed with groups of Chinese tourists. Despite the beauty, it was an artificial place, consisting entirely of plywood hotels and restaurants. As is usual in places like this, a short walk away from the main sites left me in complete solitude. During my explorations I met an American man making a documentary. He picked the wrong time of year, because his subject was brown and shrouded in haze.

It occurred to me that I didn’t have to spend the night in the city of Guilin while I waited for my train to leave the next night, so I headed back to Yangshuo for the third time, where I could eat good food, get a good Chinese massage, drink beer, and dance the night away with the Chinese tourists. It was better than sitting alone in an expensive hotel room in Guilin.

My train to Shanghai leaves tonight at 3:00 am.