I'm just kidding America. I love you for all your backwardness, and Chinese holidays are as deceptive as their meat dishes. For example in honor of the recent Mid-Autumn festival we were given Thursday and Friday off, buuuuut we had to make up Friday's class on Sunday, essentially only giving us one vacation day, and shifting our weekend so that the next work week was a brutal 6 days long. Weird stuff. At least I know I can count on the American congress never, ever, nevereverever, making me go to school on a Sunday. Plus, the Chinese aren't even stoked about their National holiday. The country that invented fireworks doesn't even like to use them at the seemingly most appropriate time. No one talks about the nation, or puts up flags, or shows any extra sort of patriotism. They just enjoy the time off, visit their families, and, if they're able, travel across the country. It's odd, and different, but I wasn't complaining. I joined in the lack of festivities, packed my bags, and went to the topic of today's blog: Zhangjiajie (aka where Avatar was filmed). Fair warning: I took more pictures than a preteen girl in a bathroom, so brace yourself.
Zhangjiajie is located in Hunan province, which, conveniently for me has some of the spiciest food in all of China. As an added bonus, my friend/travelling companion/classmate Paul can't handle spicy food, so I got to watch him survive a three-day hiking trip on a diet of rice, potato, and egg dishes (Paul if you're reading this, you did great buddy). The attraction of course, has nothing to do with the food, and more to do with the scenery which, in a word, is stunning. Seriously. I had only heard of Zhangjiajie because of people posting crazy pictures from it on the internet, and I was not disappointed. My sister, who takes photography a bit more seriously than me (I have an adorable 2-inch Nikon Coolpix, she has cameras and equipment worth well over $1000) could have spent weeks there. I almost felt guilty for not bringing a better camera.
Before you get to see all the pictures, a little necessary background. Zhangjiajie is a national park in China, and a UNESCO World Heritage Site, so you know it's the real deal. As I said it's in Hunan province, which is right above Guangxi province/semi-autonomous region (don't ask), but it was still a bit of a journey. We took an overnight train from Guilin to Changsha, the capital of Hunan province, which took about 9 hours, then it was a 3 or 4 hour bus ride from there to Zhangjiajie city, and finally a 40 minute cab-ride from the bus station to our hotel, which was a few miles from the park itself. Needless to say, the train beds and bus seats were designed for the average Chinese man or woman, not my tall, awkward self. This meant that they left
Day One: Walk, Take pictures, Climb Stairs, Take pictures, repeat for 12 hours or until there is no feeling in the Gluteus maximus or minimus.
We woke up at 630, got ready, ate breakfast at the hotel, hopped on a bus and arrived at the park at around 830. The tickets were 150 kuai or about $25 American for a three day pass. They give you a card that gets scanned upon entry and take your thumbprint because... well, it's China, who knows. We walked in eager to start our day's hike. We had met three Chinese girls at our hotel, and the suave devil Bryan, our groups' nearly fluent go-to white guy, latched our group on to theirs, and we used them as free tour guides. AND Bryan eventually ended up getting a number. You go Bryan. The entrance itself was cool:
And within five minutes our free tour guides/new friends had us walking along one of the many scenic paths. That's where these were taken:
These were just the warm-ups, the foreplay if you will, of the sights, and of the amount of exertion it would require to see them. Pretty soon, we had gone deeper into the park, and arrived at the bottom of set of stairs. They looked innocent enough. They went up and then wrapped around the corner and you lost sight of them. After all, I'm athletic, and it is just stairs.
Wrong. So very wrong. Those stairs that curled seductively around the corner of the mountain led to another set of stairs, and another, and another. We climbed up steep, uneven, crowded stairs for about an hour and a half straight. I was struggling after about half an hour. Chinese people amaze me though, some of these people were at least 60 or 70 years old, and they just kept on climbing. Slow and steady, one step at a time, until they reached the top. I hope to be half as active at that age. Their attire was interesting too. The Chinese don't put a lot of stock in buying different clothes for different occasions, say, hiking all day up mountains for example. While I was equipped in shorts, hiking boots, and my awesome Reptar t-shirt, I saw Chinese women wearing dresses, skirts, and even heels. The men weren't much different either. Some wore slacks, leather dress shoes, and button-down shirts (most of which came off, or were rolled up very soon into the ascent). One such man, who I assume was a middle aged businessman, had already ditched his shirt, but it wasn't enough. On one of the landings where climbers sought brief reprieves, he vomited, and boy did his friends laugh. I couldn't get a good translation, I was exhausted, they used dialects, (insert several other excuses here) but I'm pretty sure they were calling him the Chinese version of a little b*tch. They were relentless too, their hazing would make even the most depraved Fratboy think twice. Eventually, the man who vomited had to use what has to be the most ridiculous service I've ever seen: The aforementioned old men, one on each side, offer to carry you up this ridiculously steep, and ridiculously tall mountain in a litter. The thought of hiring someone to do that just blew my mind. Thankfully, for my conscience's sake, I only saw the man who had vomited, and who probably had heat exhaustion, and one clearly rich, clearly lazy woman, take them up on their offer. But still. Really?
Anyways, the hike was hard, really hard, but it was worth it, really worth it:
We had thought we had reached the top of our mountain. The stairs seemed to start their descent, and their didn't seem like there was anywhere higher to go. Wrong, again. The path took a slight downward orientation before hitting a small market with overpriced goods (or completely fairly priced if you consider that someone had to carry them all the way up there) Then we saw the sign:
In suitably broken English, and entirely clear Chinese, it taunted us. 186 steps and you were there. The landing above was called Heavenly Peak if I remember correctly. After trudging up exactly 186 steps (of course I counted) we made it:
We took our time at the top, taking in the sights, and I celebrated our success with a rapid imbibing of a weak alcoholic beverage through a perforation in the lower quadrant of the aluminum can in which it resided, assisted by the dual forces of air pressure and gravity (in layman's terms, I shotgunned a beer).
The first picture posted above, with the large pagoda in the distance, was actually our destination. We continued our hike and arrived at the 4-story pagoda/gift shop:
From there we exited through the back of the Pagoda, where Bryan and I were ambushed by two very excited, very hyper preteen Chinese girls. They asked us if they could take pictures with us, which was odd, but we agreed and just made a funny pose. You know, I never thought people would rush up to me asking to take pictures with me, but I really never thought that the reason for said rushing would be the color of my skin. Every now and then I do catch a Chinese person trying to coyly snap a picture of me, but it's a weird feeling. I didn't ask for this fame, guys.
Anyways, we left the pagoda and found a small stretch of market stalls selling the typical tchotchke. And then I saw it. The symbol of the corporation that started it all. Representing the entirety of American cultural imperialism in two, beautiful, curved, golden arches. That's right, folks, McDonalds put a restaurant on top of a f'in mountain:
'Murica. In spite of my usual impulse to eat anything that is even vaguely considered unhealthy, because it usually tastes great, I passed on the Mickey D's this time. It was the middle of the hike, and I didn't want to end up like these guys: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaS1xQvQEKg
Also at the top of the mountain are railings where you can place locks as wishes for certain things. The wish corresponds to the placement of the lock. For example there was an area for family health, romance, and old age. In typical Chinese fashion they took care of the family first:
We journeyed onward for hours, before descending a different tortuous set of stairs. My knees felt like giving out the whole time, but we made it back to the hotel, ate some dinner, got some sleep, and geared up for Day Two (coming soon to a blog near you) A few bonus pictures, because you guys are worth it:
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