Dali Delights

I was glad to be back in China. Vietnam was lovely but I much prefer being able to speak the language, however tentatively, and China is definitely safe ground for me.

In Nanning, where we waited for around 5 hours for the next train, we stumbled across a Brit playing the tuba in a park. We also walked past a shop that had tanks in the window. In one of these tanks was a baby human swimming. I had missed these random moments in Vietnam...

We are currently in Dali which is a town in Yunnan province in the South-West of China. Yunnan is famous for having many of China's ethnic minorities and indeed there are lots of them wandering around Dali in traditional dress to keep tourists happy. Dali used to be the capital of the Nanzhao empire in the 8th and 9th centuries before becoming the capital of the Kingdom of Dali for another 5 centuries before once again being conquored by the Chinese. The Nanzhao Empire extended south and west into Burma, Laos and Thailand as well as Sichuan province in the north but did not last long. Nowadays it is a collection of small towns and fishing villages around the expansive Erhai lake. What makes it interesting to me is that for the large part it is still made up of brick and stone buildings. Whilst I doubt many are very old, the new ones are nonetheless designed after a more classical style, built of blueish grey stone, sides whitewashed, with curving roofs. The streets are narrow and cobbled with streams running down the middle as well as plenty of greenery. There are plenty of shops selling silver, there is a minority around here that loves it, and marble vases and "paintings" (slabs of marble whose natural colourings and markings look like mountain scenery). Dali is famous for its marble and the Chinese for marble is Dali stone. To the west of the town loom some rather menacing Cang mountains, steep and cloaked in dark green firs. Brooding fits rather well here. To the east are much smoother hills which, from my shadowy side, look always in the sun.

It all adds up to make Dali rather pretty.

The other thing about Dali, and which surprised me about Hanoi, is the number of children running around and playing together. Obviously Hanoi has no child restrictions but Dali stays young because ethnic minorities are allowed as many children as they want, and there are many here, and Dali could almost be counted as rural, so again 2 kiddies. Plus as we are thousands of miles from Beijing, one senses that its influence becomes thinner...

The first day we were here we walked down to Erhai lake which was about 2 miles away. We walked along cobbly paths through fields and then through some winding streets before, unexpectedly, coming across the lake. The sun was shining so the water was a brilliant blue. (I should, at this point, mention Dali's climate. Due to a number of factors it gets cold at night, 3 degrees or so, and then warms up during the day to 15ish. This makes evenings very, very chilly. Particularly as they do not have heating here. Very chilly.) There was an old woman washing trainers in the lake and someone wandered over with a goat.

Over lunch we were treated to the sight of two lads chasing a chicken, which took a while, then wandering around swinging it upside down before finally putting the thing out of its misery with a sharp cleaver. The other chickens watched, huddled under a tree.

A couple of kids bounded up yelling "hello" and were delighted with our response. I then asked one of them its name, in Chinese, which met with a blank expression before the kid siddled away looking freaked out.

After plodding back up to the main town we went to visit the famous Three Pagodas and temple complex. There were three yellowish pagodas. And the temple complex went on for ever up and up the mountains behind. The boards informed us it was 1100 years old. With the caveat that it all got knocked down in the 70s and rebuilt in 1999. So more like 11 years old then. I don't really have much to say about this place, it had all the temply things of incense burning, giant gold statues and gift shops. Although when you got to the highest one, with coloured strips flying in the wind, you did get a whisper of what Tibet must be like. Indeed this place, to my Western eyes, has many things that I can see came from Western Treasure House, as its known in Chinese.

Did I say it gets cold at night? Especially when you only have one jumper because the others are in the wash? I think this is the first winter I have spent, in 20 years, where I have actually been cold. Imagine that, being cold in winter!

The next day we went horse-riding. I had been looking forward to this. The horse breed here is short and skinny. It originated from Tibet and horses were exchanged in Yunnan for tea brought from the south. Ours had padded saddles with large hoops to grab onto and were covered in bright strips of cloth. We were led at first by an equally short and skinny man who is as used to hard work as they. After riding along the road we headed up past Dali University, which is beautifully built and designed and then up into the mountains. I must say, those ponies were incredibly sure-footed. We were going up some very narrow, rocky paths that they managed very well. The man, who was walking, hung onto the ponies' tails to help him up. At the top we got off and went for a walk to a waterfall. This area is a Scenic Spot, which means it has been designed for walkers in high heels. They do like heels in China. There was a teahouse and the paths were paved. Everyone else had got there by taking a cable car.

The waterfall was dry. It started to hail. We headed back to the horses and down the impossibly steep trail. The man showed off his one English word, "hossridding" and we taught him how to say "how are you". He told Becka his life story, which she didn't completely get due to his thick accent. The one thing I picked out though, is how small his world is. He had vaguely heard of Shandong, but not Qingdao. He had no idea what Becka meant by Arabic. Outside his valley the world is in constant change and development but it all passes him by. He just has his horses and his business. Which, as none of his children have shown an interest in walking up and down mountains, the eldest has opened a shop in Dali, won't be here for much longer.

There was one moment where a truck passed by over some speedbumps and rattled which had our horses jumping around. I got mine back under control fairly quickly which allowed me to watch Becka's jogging off, with her bouncing around on top, and the man swinging from the horse's tail trying to stop it. There was another condition at work here, which I shall not mention so as not to worry my mother, which made this scenario even scarier. Bearing in mind we're a long way away from a head trauma unit. *Shiver*

That evening it began to rain. We scuttled out to a pub called Bad Monkey which, according to rumour, sold roast dinners on a Sunday. And they did. A proper huge plateful of roast potatoes, vegetables, sliced beef, stuffing and, thank you God, yorkshire pudding. It was cooked by two Brits so there was no hit and miss. It was the real deal. The first in nearly 5 months. I nearly cried. I'm sorry China. I know your food is world renowned. I know it has infinite variety. But it doesn't deserve to be even cooked in the same restaurant as a roast beef dinner...

By a bizarre coincedence we discovered our flatmate, Boram, is also in Dali. We are meeting up for yak burgers tonight.

The mountains are covered in snow (just rained here down in the valley). It is very pretty. But I wish I wasn't so cold...