Chengkan, and The Long March

Today after packing our luggage and leaving it in storage at the hotel we brought overnight bags, and  boarded a much smaller bus than those we have been travelling in, and went to yet another village.

This one, Chengkan, has been developed for tourists much more recently. We met the local official who was instrumental in this development. I regret I cannot recall a word of what he said to us. The village was set on a small lake,

and had similar narrow winding lanes to the others we visited.

The and some of our meanderings actually took us into inhabited homes. This lovely old lady graciously let us look into her kitchen.

The dog in this photo followed our group on our passage through the winding streets, to the delight of the dog lovers among us. He was lively, friendly and very quick moving.  Made me miss my chihuas something fierce.

We saw a restored Ming Dynasty home, built of wood and three stories tall (apparently one of the few of this size that has survived). It had amazing open wooden screens, most of which were original. 

Again there was bok choy all over, drying or in baskets, along with a variety of other rural vistas.

This last photo is a woman we saw seated in an open barn, using an electric spinning wheel to spin straw into sturdy rope.

After lunch we drove a winding road up into the base of the Yellow Mountains (in Chinese, called the Huangshan) . These are the tall oval peaks you see in Chinese scroll paintings. There is a cable car up to the top of the ridge,

but then we had a LOOOOONG walk, up and down endless stone stairs, to get to our hotel. It took about 2 1/2 hours, and they told us the next day it was 1500 stairs total. 

Those of us not up to the rigors of this undertaking were carried in bamboo sedan chairs, by 4 porters each, for a couple of hundred dollars. The ladies in the chairs said it was rather hair-raising. 

I have to take people's word for the beautiful nature of the scenery, because this photo shows virtually the only moment I wasn't nervously watching where I placed my feet.

In several places along the trail we saw chains loaded with "Love Locks". The guide explained that engaged couples come here with padlocks engraved with their names, close the lock on the chain and throw the key over the cliff into the canyon. The belief is that as long as the lock is locked onto the chain, their love will endure. (He also said several people every year are killed climbing over the cliff to try to get back their keys to unlock their locks....)

I nearly didn't make it to the end of the stairs, and only managed the last stretch because one of my fellow travelers (hi Helen!) kept me distracted by telling my the plots of movies she'd seen. The hotel, once we got there, was a grave disappointment. It was, for the first time, aimed primarily Chinese rather than international travelers, and turned out to be largely unheated. After all that walking up and down stairs in 35 degree weather I was frozen solid, exhausted, and dismayed to discover there were another 6 fights of stairs to get to my room. Where I discovered the windows were both wide open, the room freezing, the electric radiator unplugged. And both the headboard and the visible parts of the box spring were alarmingly filthy. 

Dinner provided yet another step down in Chinese cuisine. The bits of chicken were hacked with a cleaver, insuring each mouthful had sharp shards of bone mixed in. And we had goose toes. And cold dumplings. Blech. And all the dishes were flung onto the lazy susan by waitresses who wouldn't even answer questions asked by our guides in Chinese. The other diners, all Chinese, seemed to be yelling at each other, making the din in the windowless basement dining room unbearable. 

After dinner I went to the lobby, where there was WiFi, and tried to do email, only to have the lobby lights turned out at 8pm. As I trudged up the endless steps to my room I completely lost it. I started to sob, and probably would still be there weeping if another one of the Bryn Mawr travelers hadn't stopped and talked to me. I went to my room, still sniffling, and wrapped my feet in my down jacket, zipped up my fleece jacket, put on my cashmere hat and dived under down blanket. Despite the audible snoring from all the rooms around me, I did manage to sleep fitfully, but awoke before dawn.

Today I face a 15 minute walk up more stairs to a different cable car down the mountain. I have never dreaded a staircase so much in my life. Wish me luck.