Due to previous difficulties executing a successful thumbs out attempt at hitch hiking, Zaza prepared me an A4 sign explaining in Chinese that I wanted a lift to Kunming, where I would then take a train to Lijang on my way to Tiger Leaping Gorge. The sign was a great success, I barely waited 20 minutes before a nice young girl who was travelling with her partner came running up excited to give me a lift for the 9 hour journey. They hardly spoke a word of English, though with the help of our respective translator apps we managed basic conversation.
Arriving in Kunming train station I could have been forgiven for thinking I had landed on Wall St with the giant giant golden bull towering over the entrance. It's quite a confronting feeling being in a place late at night, tired and no idea what any of the travel schedules mean, especially when not even the information desk speaks English or wants to try and attempt some basic communication. Eventually I found the right ticket window where my first lesson of China train travel was delivered; tickets sell out days in advance during peak season. As there was no seats for two days and my research showed the last bus had left earlier that evening, I lugged my bags down the street and waited at the bus stop for the long distance bus station just to double check. Given it was now 10pm and I doubted the station was even open, a stroke of luck hit me when a rough conversation with some locals ended with a lady leading me down a few back streets to a sleeper bus ready to depart for Lijang! I couldn't believe my luck, although sometimes the universe has a way of balancing us out as I used a horribly disgusting toilet in a rundown hotel, where the water pipe that was holding my bag fell off the wall leaving it in a messy puddle of who knows what atrocities.
The sleeper but was fitted out to a Chinese standard, with three rows of bunk beds all short enough to ensure a taller man does not enjoy a comfortable nights sleep. I met three students travelling on university holidays who spoke reasonable English and were off to hike the gorge as well, its these random acquaintances which end up being invaluable in foreign language countries. Thanks to the help from one of my little blue sleeping pills, I only stirred when the bus randomly stopped a few hours during the middle of the night and again when a lady in a bed opposite mine answered her mobile at 3am and had absolutely no concept of inside voice (another lesson learnt, Chinese = loud). Instead of being dropped at Lijang we found ourselves at the Dali train station and my new mates explained that there were problems on the road so we would be given train tickets for the final two hour journey, still plenty of time to grab a late breakfast and make it to Lijang for the 2:30pm bus out to the gorge.
Racing over to the bus station in Lijang I was delivered more bad news, there was no afternoon bus and I would need to wait until 8am to get out and start hiking the gorge. Mauro, an Italian student who was sharing the same frustration joined me to explore the picturesque but very touristy old town in Lijang and find a hostel for the night. A couple of lads from Amsterdam tried to help us find a place without much luck, but it turned out they would be catching the same bus in the morning so we agreed to team up. The hunt continued until one hostel had a partner located just outside the old town and took our payment in exchange for a room receipt and a hotel business card. You would think a card which has the address written in Chinese and a map on the back would make the '15 minute walk' easy, well.. NO. We spent almost 3 hours(!!) walking around showing people the card as they all proceeded to point in different directions and instruct us to catch different buses. By the end we were so pissed off at having to lug our big bags all over town that we called the hostel who sent somebody out on foot to collect us.
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