Zhangjiajie 張家界 is the city that holds the best and the worst of China -- the mountains are dazzlingly beautiful to behold but the cacophonous Chinese tour groups along with their tour guides armed with microphones and little flags quite ruin the moments when you are just about to say "Oh!" Then your praise for the mountains turns into a silent curse towards the Chinese guy who just knocked you out of his way as he approaches the scenery with his professional camera.
On this semi-grand tour of China that starts from Chengdu, Sichuan 成都and continues to Zhangjiajie, Hunan, and ends in Shanghai, Zhangjiajie requires quite a lot more getting used to than any place in Sichuan. Sichuan, snuggled between the Yunnan Plateau 雲南and Tibet 西藏, boasts an array of minority influence -- the Tibetan and the Qiang are the two major minorities. But going into Hunan, which is dominated by the Han Chinese, you immediately feel a difference. There is a joke about how different the Hunanese and the Sichuanese are in the way they fight: the Sichuanese are known for being quite relaxed and lazy. They love having tea and playing mah-jong. They do not leave their house nor the tea houses unless they have run out of money. But once they have enough money, they will go straight back to the tea houses and chat with friends and play mah-jong. They are very verbal and will curse ferociously in fights, yet no matter how loud they are, they dare not raise a hand towards their opponents. On the other hand, the Hunanese are known for their stubbornness and toughness (Mao is the prime example). They work hard and often have a grand vision of what their future holds. They are capable of pinning down their opponents both verbally and physically. When they fight, they shout and punch all at the same time. If you find the Sichuanese a bit difficult to deal with, wait till you meet the Hunanese. They make the Sichuanese look very tame.
My travel companion and I flew from Chengdu to Zhangjiajie with Air China 中國航空公司. This is by far the most cautious airline I have ever flown with. My first flight with them was from London to Beijing, which was eventless. My second flight was from Taipei to Chengdu. We were about to land in Chengdu--the metal flaps on the wings were thrown up; the lights were just within us. And suddenly up the plane flew, the metal flaps were drawn in, and an hour later we were in Chongqing 重慶. The reason for this emergency change of destination was because it was raining in Chengdu. I thought that perhaps it rained hard. But the third time I flew with Air China, I discovered that this airline just simply does not take off or land when it rains. It was not even heavy rain but they waited until it stopped raining completely for us to board the plane from Chengdu to Zhangjiajie.
When we arrived in Zhangjiajie, it was about midnight. The airport looked shady. When we came out of the airport, there was a Chinese lady who herded everyone onto a free bus to the city centre. I told her that our hostel was near the airport so it would not make sense for us to go to the city centre. She told me that the taxi drivers here always overcharged. She then threw me the typical Communist Chinese look, rolled her eyes and said, "Whatever you want to do. If you don't believe me, then go ahead." We walked towards where the taxi drivers were and immediately, a whole gang of shady creatures emerged from the darkness and approached us. One offered 40 RMB; another told us our hostel was halfway up the mountains and very far away. The ten-minute ride should cost around 10 RMB or less, and the hostel was definitely not half-way up the mountains. I told them they were bullshitting and decided to take the bus to the city centre and look for a taxi there. But one of them shouted out, "Twenty!" We took the offer and got into his crappy taxi. There were metal bars between the front seat and the back seat. The hostel was crappy as well even though the price was not all that low (between 150-200 RMB per night). All through the night I could not sleep. My legs itched all over. I told myself I was just imagining things. But the next day my friend told me she also thought the hostel was full of insects.
The next morning, we went on a hostel-hunting trip. We checked out four hostels/hotels until we finally decided to stay in a three-star hotel (260 RMB per night). There is only one word to describe Zhangjiajie City and it is shady. Nothing below three-star is bearable. The whole place stinks of sweat and pee and poo and barbeque and bad meat and pork and who knows what else. Even in our three-star hotel room, things were breaking down -- the toilet often stank; the chairs looked like they were twenty years old; the air-conditioner screeched; they had no wireless connection but they did provide each room with its own computer.
While we were in Sichuan, I found this nice hostel up in the mountains but it was fully booked out until four days after we arrived in Zhangjiajie so we were just waiting it out until we could check into a nice and cheap hostel.
The first day, I took my friend to a Chinese musical set against the backdrop of the mountains. It is called The Story of the Fairy Fox and the Woodcutter. It is based on a folk story about a woodcutter who falls in love and marries a 1000-year-old fairy fox. The villagers want to kill the fox, and the fox's fiancé, the fox king, also wants to kill the fox. So the poor lovers stand on two sides of a ravine and look at each other for 10,000 years until their true love moves heaven and earth and the two cliffs move towards each other and allow them to embrace one more time. The stage is magnificent--on one side is the village and the huts; on the other is the rocky, cavernous fox's world. The villagers sing in a specifically Hunan, folklorish Chinese, and the main characters (the woodcutter and the fox) sing in proper Mandarin Chinese. The verses in Chinese, Korean, and English are projected onto large slabs of rocks to the two sides of the stage. The fox lady wears traditional, Han costume--her white dress flows in the wind, and she looks amazingly beautiful with the artificial moon as background. At the climax of the story, the whole stage lights up, and more lights beam into the cliffs and create this kitchey but awe-inspiring Romeo and Juliet moment.
Zhangjiajie National Park is divided into several regions. I still do not understand how their system works because it is so chaotic. First, there is Zhangjiajie, also called Forrest Park 森林公園. Then there are Yuanjiajie 袁家界 and Yangjiajie 揚家界. Then there is also Tianzi Mountain 天子山. But fear not, because you will feel like a fish in a stream once you go into the National Park and by this, I don't mean you will feel happy and free as a fish in a stream but as a fish which cannot swim anywhere but in a tiny stream.
We went in from Wulingyuan 武陵源 since our hostel for the next four to five days was in Yangjiajie so I picked the region that is furthest away from Yangjiajie. I had several fights with the rude Mainlanders as they cut into the line. A particular lady threw me the Communist look as I told her off for cutting in line but she was unmoved and continued to get her tickets. Then immediately came a man who butt in line and started talking to the ticket saleswoman. I told him angrily to go away and get in line. He glared at me but the ticket saleswoman dealt with my requests first. So we finally get the ticket (248 RMB, valid for three days). At the entrance, they swiped our fingerprint so we could not resell the ticket.
But lo and behold, we saw buses and buses and buses in front of us. No park, no greenery. Buses. One line went to Water Encircles Four Gates 水繞四門 (all these English translations are my own invention. They might look different on their official signposts.) Another to the cable car up Tianzi Mountain 天子山. Then two or three more bus lines. We decided to go up Tianzi Mountain to take a look at the world-famous Zhangjiajie view. But queing in line for the cable car was such a bitch. We waited in line for half an hour (even though it was not peak time) as the Chinese people jostled and squeezed past you and generally made a lot of noise. The fans blew the stink of sweat right into your nose. Finally, we got into the cable car, and the view along the way was spectacular. But once we got on the mountain, I was ready to walk. But lo and behold again, buses were waiting for us. There was nowhere nice to walk. So we were channeled through to the next destination -- He Long Park 賀龍公園.
He Long Park was a bustling mess. The scene was beautiful but their public toilets stank so much you could not breathe. Then there was the food gallery and the food stalls set up canvasses right in front of where the scene should be. Chinese tour groups milled around. They haggled over prices and ate all sorts of strange Hunan delicacies -- barbeque pigeon, stinky tofu, ge gen jelly, an assortment of barbequed things. The tour guides were the worst -- they cut in line at the ticket booth, screeched out commands into their microphones "Gather underneath that tree in ten minutes! Go down the steps and take a photo of [insert very long cool Chinese name for a scenic spot] and then come back up the steps and wait right there." As if the tourists were kindergarten children and needed to be told exactly how to behave. They even had toilet stops. The tour guide would bark out, "This is the toilet! Gather to the right of the toilet near that food stall in ten minutes!!"
He Long Park did indeed have many nice scenic spots but the tourists ruined it all. But nevertheless, I shall focus on the beauty of Zhangjiajie and overlook the rudeness of the Mainland Chinese.
So that was our second day in Zhangjiajie, and we were both so miserable we wanted to just leave this city, or even, this province. The third day we decided to take it easy and just go and find some nice food in the city and enjoy ourselves a bit. This proved to be quite difficult as well but we made the best of our day.
In the afternoon, I took my friend to a foot massage centre. Foot massages are known for being extremely painful so I warned my western friend against the pain. We sat on nice comfy sofas and were offered sweet chrysanthemum tea. Two shy Chinese girls came into the room with buckets and all sorts of tools. They washed our feet in warm, Chinese herbal water and massaged our shoulders and backs. Then they started working on our feet. It was not as painful as I expected it to be so I would not go there again (talking about masochism). But it was a very posh and clean spa centre and quite a retreat from the shady, stinky world outside. I also did a pedicure but was rather shocked by how efficient the pedicurist was. The whole process took about five minutes -- the nails were cut, the cuticles were gone. Tadah, I had clean and smooth toenails!
In the evening, we went on a food-hunting trip. We walked from our hotel which was about 15 minutes from their city centre. We poked our heads into restaurants that looked at least somewhat acceptable in terms of hygiene and food tastiness level but found none. When we became quite desperate, we thought we might as well just have KFC. We persevered and I came across one of the iced-tea stalls that Taiwan is famous for. I felt so at home and happy and ordered myself a nice ice-cold jasmine green tea (30 percent sweetness, normal level of ice, you can choose your level of sweetness and ice) and ordered a taro milk tea (purple in colour and it tastes like sweet potato) for my friend. She quite liked her exotic milk tea. We continued with our restaurant hunt and finally came across a fish restaurant that looked above-average hygienic. We asked for a spicy dish, and of course since my friend is white, she caused quite an uproar in the restaurant. Three people were fussing around and recommending us this and that. We wanted just half a big fish since we were just two people but the restaurant would have none of that. The fish were kept in tanks and no one would buy a dead fish let alone half of a dead fish. The restaurant owner asked me to come with her to pick the fish from the tank and I politely refused. In the end, we chose a very small type of fish (probably two or three fish) and picked the cooking style roasted紅繞. But what the Chinese mean by roasted is actually something between frying it and roasting it. There was a gigantic pot and the fish came with a strong, spicy sauce. Noodles were added to the sauce and cooked in the pot to soak up the spiciness. It was DELICIOUS!! One restaurant to redeem Hunan food and we found it!!
I chatted with the restaurant owner -- a middle-aged lady who recommended me snake meat. I said I am not too keen on anything out of the ordinary. She informed me of the various properties of snake meat (it makes your skin smooth) but I still refused to try it. Hunan food is quite famous/notorious for eating strange animals -- snake and dog are the two most common ones. My western friend was quite upset when she learned that dog meat was served. When I declared that I only ate lamb, beef, poultry, and fish, and that my friend ate pork on top of the above four, the Hunan people tend to look rather confused. It was as if I told them I did not eat rice.
Finally, after about four days in Zhangjiajie City 張家界市, we made our way to Yangjiajie 揚家界 to the nice hostel that I found online. The hostel used to be just a farmhouse. It was turned into a hostel in 2008. Their blog link is http://blog.sina.com.cn/zhangjiajiexiaoyin. Taking the bus from our original hotel to this hostel was quite a pain in the ass. First, we took a bus (1 RMB) to somewhere close to the bus station. Then we took the bus to Tianzi Mountain and Yangjiajie (a bus that stank and rattled, 10 RMB) -- a one-hour journey to Yangjiajie. Then we took an unofficial taxi (30 RMB) to the hostel. The hostel also picks guests up directly from the city centre but we wanted to save money.
The hostel is extremely beautiful. It is located ten minutes drive from the Yangjiajie Entrance. We used the same ticket that gave us access to Wulingyuan 武陵源 two days ago. The hostel owners are a family of the Tu minority 土家族. They have wifi access, simple but tasty Tu food, and warm and welcoming personnel. They call the hostel "The Home of Little Yin" 小印家 so it feels as if we were guests in their home. I strongly recommend everyone to stay here for a couple of days. You can see the beautiful mountains either from your room or the benches area in front of the hostel. They have also planted fruit trees and tomatoes along the road for the guests (free of charge). They also provide nice Du Zhong tea 都種茶 (a Hunan speciality) and wild Oolong tea (free of charge as well). You just need to get over the shock that they don't have western toilets were but only squatting toilets and that you take a shower right above that squatting toilet.
The first night we stayed here, we ordered Dry Pot Mountain Chicken (乾鍋山雞). Their "dry pot" is actually stir fry. Again, we tried to order half a chicken but the Big Cousin (大表哥) was again very confused. He asked us how he could kill a chicken and sell only half of it. That was when we realised the chicken was still alive when we were ordering our dinner. In the end, we decided to order a whole chicken (128 RMB per chicken). It was mighty delicious. The food they make is simple. They don't use a lot of sauces. They just use garlic and chilli and spring onion but because the food is so fresh, it tastes amazing.
On the second evening, we went to a roasted whole goat banquet. The goat was roasted in a gigantic oven run by a turning water wheel. Beside the goat, there were also many traditional Tu Minority dishes stirred fried in their gigantic wok over burning fire.
The goat banquet was held in a little village outside of the national park. The buildings were built in the traditional Tu Minority style.
The insects here tend to be rather big. In the middle of the night, after everyone else went to bed (they are mountain people so they tend to go to bed early), my friend and I sat around outside on the benches chatting. The moths kept on bombarding me and since they had so much mass, I could feel their head butts quite keenly. They also have this giant red ant queen with wings that is the size of a dragonfly. It looks seriously ferocious and poisonous so I kept a cautious distance from it as I drank my morning tea.
If you want to just enjoy the mountains over a cup of Chinese tea with nothing bothering you except giant insects and the chirping of birds and crickets and frogs, you should stay at this hostel for a couple days or even a week.
The second day, we decided to just hang out on the terrace of the hostel for the whole day without going anywhere. The hostel family were a bit bemused that we came all the way into the mountains and were too lazy to actually go anywhere. But this was the reason we came to the mountains -- to look at the beautiful, spectacular mountains and to enjoy a cup of tea and some nice homemade, farmhouse food.
On the evening of the second day, we participated in a roasted whole goat feast. It was held in another Tu Minority village with wooden cottages that looked almost like the fake ones we saw on stage at the fairy fox performance. They had a huge oven that could fit a whole goat. The goat was not as big as I imagined a goat would be and they fixed the goat onto a turning rack powered by a water wheel. We visited their kitchen, which had a gigantic wok with a burning fire underneath it. Most Chinese dishes are prepared within five minutes so before an hour had passed, there were about ten dishes ready. We sat in small chairs around tables and everyone dug in. We shared the dishes with a family from Guangdong but I was rather concerned about everyone digging into the dishes with their own chopsticks. Before everyone's saliva got mixed into the dishes, I scooped a bit of each dish into my own bowl. The roasted goat was amazing. It was very well roasted and still tender with a lot of sophisticated spices. The goat's intestines and liver and heart were put in a pot and placed above a stove in the middle of the table. After dinner, they raised a bonfire in the middle of the square while one of the Tu ladies tried desperately but in vain to get the tourists to dance the traditional Tu dance.
On the third day, we decided to finally go hiking. One thing I confirmed on my trip to China was that the Chinese don't hike. Their "hiking routes" tend to be paved or planked and it is very difficult for you to actually find a route on which your feet can touch the actual ground without some piece of wood or stone in between. The Chinese also tend to hike down mountains. So they take a cable car or a bus up the mountains and then walk down the mountain route. We decided to hike western style -- up the mountains. It was one a half hours of walking up steps after steps after steps. The scene along the route was amazing. We were finally in the wild and quiet and away from the Chinese cacophony but it did not last long. About halfway through the hike we heard the Chinese tourists shouting from the mountaintop and the Tu Minority singers demonstrating their mountain love songs with their unique shrill voice. There went our tranquility. The route up Oolong Village 烏龍寨, an ancient mountain bandit village, was soon packed full of Chinese tourists milling around, Chinese vendors selling tea and food at twice to four times the normal prices, Chinese men with bamboo chairs offering tourists who could not hike a lift up the steps, and of course tour guides with megaphones shouting instructions at the top of their voices. From there on, it was a short walk to the top of the mountains (and also the top of the Oolong Village).
From the resting spot (you will not miss it, the dirtiest, noisiest place with lots of food vendors is the one), on one side is the Oolong Village and on the other side is the route to One Step towards the Heavens 一步登天. When we came down the Oolong Village, we went on the three hour hike (return trip) to One Step towards the Heavens. But this name is misleading since it was more like a thousand steps. But since this was too much hiking for the average Chinese, there were very few people on the route. In the end, we decided to go to Corridor in the Sky 空中走廊 instead. It was a ten to fifteen minute hike from One Step but at the end of the Corridor, we got to see the whole of the valleys and farmland and mountains. We perched on the cliff and just took in the scenery as we chatted about life.
That evening, I ordered fish soup with rice noodles. The fish was humongous but I only got the head. The fish came in a huge bowl and I was highly impressed by how big it was. The fish was fresh, as if it was wriggling about half an hour ago (it might have been, considering how every dish in the mountains tends to be from freshly killed animals).
By the time we were about to leave, I felt as if I had built up some kind of friendship with the hostel people -- a lovely family of the Tu Minority. I thanked them and asked them for their address so I can send them a postcard from the UK. For 150 RMB, they took us straight from the hostel to the airport (a one and a half hour ride). We took off around 7 PM as the sun was setting. The mountains ranges were layered, misty, and blue. The farmhouses just about turned on their evening lights. The van cruised along the road at shocking speed for that type of road but by now, I had got used to how Chinese drivers enjoy honking at every living and nonliving thing on the road and how they love surpassing other vehicles.
This was a memorable trip despite the stinky toilet which I battled everyday with perfume and constant flushing, my running stomach which probably came from unhygienic food, a duvet that smelled of mildew, giant insects that rammed their whole bodies into me, and noisy Chinese people in general. This was where I could sit and have a cup of tea and enjoy the mountains (when the Chinese were out) and think about my future. When I looked at the mountains, I could finally understand why they thought foxes could turn into fairies in the shapes of beautiful girls dressed in white Han costume and fall in love with a poor but pure-hearted woodcutter.
