Leshan

The rivers - the Min River, the Qingyi River and the Dadu River - crash against the cliff. Against Buddha's giant feet. Buddha's unperturbed smile angers the Sea Dragon King even more. The rain lashes against the cliff. Against Buddha's smiling face.

We'll see who has the last laugh. How dare the people carve a giant statue of Buddha to placate the waters of the three rivers, each vying to bring the cliff down and earn the Sea Dragon King's favour. Nothing can withstand the power of water. Even rocks crumble into sand under the force of water. We'll see who laughs last.

Wuhou Ci Heng Jie

Tibetan quarter.

Jinli Ancient Street

Green Ram Monastery

A bronze bell resonates through the courtyard from the Hall of Three Purities. A young boy prostrates himself before the idol. The bell resonates again. Louder this time within the hall. A zither can be heard through the slight drizzle. A Taoist monk is practising in the Hall of Patriarch Lu Dongbin.

Chengdu

The hostel he's staying at, the Loft, was once a printing factory in the 1970s. A group of artists spent seven months working on it, transforming it into the hostel that it is today. It's very hard to describe it. It's very simple. Yet kinda hip and groovy.

It absolutely poured early this morning. He awakes to the thundering sound of the rain on the roof. Hopefully the haze - which seems to be endemic in all major Chinese cities - clears up after this.

Here in Sichuan, everything is spicy. He's always having to tell the waitress not to put any chili into his food. He just can't understand their obsession with it.

He's been rushing ever since he left England. Got to catch the first bus. The first train. He's been rushing ever since. And it's beginning to show: the calluses on his feet, his early nights, his lethargy, his being easily disappointed and irritated nature, his constant thought of giving up. He's got to take it slow again and where better to start than the laidback and relaxed city of Chengdu?

Mao's Statue

One of the largest in China apparently.

Wenshu Yuan

The grounds are empty. Quiet. Except for the twittering of birds in the gardens just beyond the halls. The day is almost at its end. The monks perform their last duties of the day. They sweep the grounds clean, clean the incense urns of ashes, light the joss sticks for the night. They prepare dinner and make ready the dining hall. A monk sits in his room and studies by the window. The day is almost at its end.

Tianfu Square

Mao Museum

緣份

(10 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)
He walks down the shopping pedestrian street. It seems to be the latest fad in all Chinese cities. The train attendant once told him on the train to Guilin: if there's anything China has that's too many, it's people. Go to any shopping street at night and you'll see it's true. Head to any train or bus station during the day and you'll see it's true.

緣份. He can't stop thinking about it. 緣份. The two men. The four brothers. 緣份. And all of a sudden, it comes to him. 緣份. They understand it. The two men. The four brothers. And now, he finally understands it too.

緣份...

Bodhisattva Manjusri

(9 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)
There's an inexplicable affinity between him and the youngest one. The youngest one spoons out rice from the rice bowl for him and gives him food from the dishes every now and then. After dinner, they head to the city square where the brothers have a go at balloons with BB guns. He now understands the point of these games.

Tomorrow, the brothers leave by bus to Chongqing for the next part of their holiday. He tries to pay the middle one for dinner but this time the middle one adamantly refuses. The middle one says it again: 緣份. The brothers decide to play Counterstrike at a nearby cybercafe. He thanks them profusely and tells them to take good care of themselves, 好好保重.

Bei Shan II

(8 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)
They are generally smaller in scale but no less detailed. Many of the statues have been eroded by time beyond recognition. Their faces mere outcroppings of the stone wall. Some appear to have been defaced. Their limbs mere stumps. Those that survive the test of time however, stand proud and tall, graceful and elegant: a testament to the glory that belongs to the Tang.

Bei Shan

(7 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)
The Bei Shan caves are quiet. Empty. Except for the odd tourist. It's a good change from the packed Baoding Shan caves. The walk to Bei Shan was uneventful with many people willing to point him in the right direction.

He's completely misread them. Despite their crude and rude exterior, which is the first thing one encounters, they've got a very kind and friendly interior. He wonders if it's because of their language being sharp and harsh or their innate distrust for other people unless they know them or simply because they prefer to do business quickly. They're actually quite clean people in terms of personal hygiene although their civic-mindedness is something to be desired.

He still hasn't gotten over the fact that he never got to thank the two men who helped him find a suitable accommodation from the Chongqing Bei train station.

Parental Devotion

(6 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)
The middle one is the leader of the pack. He is bold and brash whilst the elder twins are gentle and soft-spoken. The middle one pays for the short buggy ride from the bus stop to the cave entrance, says it's 緣份. He hesistantly agrees since it's only a few yuan anyway. The middle one buys him lunch, says it's 緣份. He strongly objects this time but his smattering Mandarin isn't of much help. The middle one refuses his money at first but finally accepts it unwillingly when he forces the note into his hand. Upon reaching back at Dazu, the brothers decide to stay at the same hotel he's staying in.

Sakyamuni Buddha

(5 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)

Thousand-Arm Avalokitesvara

(4 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)

1007 hands. This is the real deal.

Cave of Full Enlightenment

(3 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)
They look majestic in their flowing robes and elaborate ornaments. Graceful and elegant in their poise. Solemn in the silence of the cave. Deep in meditation on the dharma, they command a sense of respect and reverence. And within the silence itself, the dharma takes form and comes to life. The walls of the cave reverberate with the voice of the dharma, propounding it to the statues who listen attentively on their way to nirvana. The sunlight enters the mouth of the cave and casts dark shadows around. As dark and deep as the minds of the statues to which they belong to.

Baoding Shan

(2 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)

The youngest boy approaches him and looks, without subtlety, at his guidebook. The boy says he can't read it. He tells him it's in English. The boy asks him where he comes from and he replies that he's from England. The boy calls his three elder brothers to him and they strike up a conversation between them on the bus to Baoding Shan. Despite learning English in school, they converse in Mandarin.

They - the two eldest twins at 16, the middle one at 14 and the youngest at 13 - are travelling together to Buddhist Grottoes of Dazu. Coming from the town of Long Shan, they're currently having their summer break which ends in September. Upon arriving at their destination, he decides to follow them.

Dazu

(1 of 10 of Dazu Buddhist Grottoes)
If Chongqing was bad enough, Dazu is even worse. In this no-man's-land, not only do people not speak English, but their Mandarin has a completely different pronunciation compared to the one he's been learning. Whereas Chongqing had English street signs, there's not a single word of English to be seen within miles of this county. This has certainly become a surreal experience, if not adventure. He half expects to wake up from this dream anytime soon. He still can't believe he decided to venture out into no-man's-land.

Chao Tian Men

The Yangtze River flows mightily on his right, evident from the turbulent waves it makes against the boats moored along its bank. A ferry is immediately swept downstream sideways as soon as it leaves its pier. The Jialing River, a tributary of the Yangtze, flows lazily on his left, evident from the many people swimming along its bank. Peddlers take the opportunity to sell swimwear and floats as well as food and water.


The Yangtze is brown from the fertile silt it brings from its upper regions. The Jialing is a beautiful shade of clear green. Where the two rivers meet, their waters mix in whirlpools of brown and green. Like double-flavoured ice-cream. Or Belgian chocolate. Or snails. Up ahead, an impressive bridge is being constructed: a testament to Man's intuition and desire to tame Mother Nature.

People's Liberation Monument

Chongqing is just like any other major Chinese city. There's no surprise as to why it's the youngest municipality. It reminds him of Hong Kong's Mid-Levels and Shanghai's Nanjing Road. With just one exception however: not a single soul here speaks English. He wonders how backpackers who can't speak Chinese survive out here.

Great Hall of the People

Three Gorges Museum

Guilin - Chongqing (Train)

The view outside the window remains almost the same. He gets bored quickly. Climbs up to the top bunk and smiles with satisfaction at his own personal space. He takes out his trusty notepad, fumbles around for his pen in his bag and starts writing:

Breakfast. The stallkeeper prepares a bowl of rice noodles for him. Next to him, people add condiments and spices to their noodles before adding the soup. Two little children sit face to face on low wooden stools at a low wooden table, arguing heatedly about something over their empty bowls.

A baby cries loudly from the grocery store across the alley. The lady tending to the baby must be the shopkeeper. As soon as the stallkeeper serves him his noodles, she runs immediately across the alley to comfort the baby. She must be its mother.

He orders two pairs of yao tiao from the stallkeeper's helper. It's called yao char kwai in Malaysia. Mother once said it symbolizes a couple's strong and true love for each other, both willing to be boiled alive together in oil. She never told him why they had been condemned to death. Maybe they were both men, he smiles to himself.

This story does not have an end. He's still got another month of travelling to go. He gets lazy. Tired. He thinks he should start taking it slow. He thinks he's getting old.

Fuli

They whiz down the highway at tremendous speed. He's going so fast that the steering handles shudder under his tight grip and the wind howls in his ears. The seaforest follows him close behind.


The same scenery passes them by with slight variation. Small towns. A decrepit abandoned factory. A dark tunnel. Before long, they reach their destination of Fuli Town and ask the locals for directions to the Li River.


Lady Luck smiles down upon them. The market of Fuli - held once every three days - is being held. The market sells anything to everything. Live chickens are hung and weighed out under the big old white ugly structure of a market. Cheap rubber slippers are lined up on the ground in an amazing array of colours.


A few more lanes deeper into town and they stumble upon the old village with simple single storey houses of brick, clay or wood. Once again, people sit behind their wooden doors entertaining themselves with whatever means possible. Their arrival sparks up some interest especially since the seaforest's Caucasian. The children run out of their houses and greet them to which they reply politely.


More twists and turns along narrow alleys and they reach the makeshift village pier. Crossing a simple cement bridge, they reach a mound of an island where three boys swim close by. Another man tries his luck at fishing on the bridge. The seaforest thinks of going for a swim. He encourages the seaforest to jump from the bridge. The seaforest thinks it's a very good idea.


The water's perfect. Apparently. And the floor's rocky. The seaforest tempts him to join in for a swim. He's tempted but starts thinking about parasitic worm larvae that penetrate the skin. Courtesy of Pathology. This far downriver can't possibly be any good for swimming. Besides, he wants to write. But, it's very tempting.

[Swim]

Minutes later, they get out of the river and sit on the grass to dry. They get to know one another better. A herder leads his herd of oxen to the island via the bridge. Some of them enter the river and begin to bathe in it. It's perfectly tranquil. Peaceful. Serene.


Time becomes meaningless. So too, does existence. Do you know what I mean? No. Of course you don't. How can you?

They're late. Chatted for too long. Lost track of time. They cycle as fast as they can along the highway which darkens by the moment. The seaforest needs to catch a bus to Guangzhou while he needs to catch the bus back to Guilin.


Goodbye was simple. Quick. Brief. He catches up with the seaforest and cycles alongside him. He says, 'This is it.' And pulls ahead of the seaforest. Simple. Quick. Brief. And a perfect ending to an unforgettable experience in Yangshuo.

Jade Dragon Bridge

The sun's barely rising and he chooses to be adventurous. Instead of cycling on the highway, he chooses to follow the path along the river. A 20 minute bike ride turns into a four hour ride as he tries to avoid potholes filled with mud.


But it's all worth it. The path takes him right to the feet of the karst hills. Only here can you appreciate how tall these motherfuckers are. Not from their peaks. Maybe from climbing them. But from their feet.


Snuggled between them are untouched villages. It puts things scarily into perspective however. People sit outside their doors - mere wooden planks - on benches in the shade. They sit with their neighbours and friends, playing cards. They sit alone twiddling their thumbs, watching people go by. Watching the world go by. They - everyone: fathers, mothers, children - sit and wait. And wait. It's scary.


Other places, the men tend to their fields while their wives look after their children. Within their houses, not a proper piece of furniture can be seen. Only low wooden stools and an equally low wooden table. At most, they have a television set.


Halfway through, he meets a small group of local tourists cycling along the same path. With them is a British boy only two years younger than he is. A beautiful friendship blossoms and before long, the journey is cut short with conversation and laughter. Within a short time, they reach their destination: Jade Dragon Bridge. It's all very scenic but nothing compared to being able to share it with a friend.

Moon Hill II

He has angered Mother Nature. The sky turns immediately. The moon, so bright and pure just moments ago, becomes dark with fury. The clouds blot out the sun as he runs recklessly down the moss-covered steps with the water-lady. She tells him to be careful. '小心路滑!' But he heeds her not. The wind blows so hard that the bamboo leaves rustle up a storm. He's not even sure if it's already raining. The foliage is this thick.

As they both risk their lives, she recounts her life to him. The life of a poor peasant woman. Of a poor family of farmers. So poor that she had to forgo her education. So poor that she can't even travel around her own country. So poor that even the most sought after thing in a peasant girl's life, marriage, becomes a mere bond to another family.

As they approach the foot of the hill, the foliage clears and they're both drenched within seconds. At the bottom, he glances back at the lady who's clambering down the last few couple of steps. He runs for the nearest shelter and when he looks back, she's already disappeared in the veil of the rain. Thus, does his guardian angel protect him.

His shelter turns out to be the kitchen of the already closed outdoor cafe. There, he gets to know a local girl who works part-time for her aunt, the owner of the cafe. She speaks fluent English after eight years of learning it in school. Fresh out of high school, she now awaits her parents' decision on her tertiary education: either a 2+2 in Vietnam or bribe the Chancellor of Guangxi University. She wants to major in Japanese and tells him that she's being discriminated for admiring the Japanese.

The rain stops within an hour and he hops once more on to his mountain bike. He grips the handles like a racing bike and cycles recklessly back. He overtakes two motorcycles. Tempts Fate who's already had two chances today. One of the motorcycles overtakes him back but he pushes himself even harder and overtakes it again. His shoes drip with mud and water although his shorts are already dry. His body aches but he's loving every bit of it. This is how his forefathers took over the world. If they could do it, so can he. The adrenaline pumps through his head, making him slightly delirious as he approaches West Street and the place where he has to return the bike.

Moon Hill

He drinks a mouthful of water from his bottle. Takes off his shirt as the sun peeks through the clouds. Hops on to his mountain bike which he hired for the day at ten yuan. And sets off for the countryside.


He gets confused by the general direction of vehicles. Gets lost a couple of times before finding the right road. Instead of the left. Within minutes, the tacky town of Yangshuo is replaced by small villages bordered by paddy fields, nestled within valleys of karst hills. Other cyclists pass him by, smile and greet him with a wave or shout.


After more than an hour, he finally reaches his destination: Moon Hill. So called because of the large moon-shaped arch under its peak. Rivers of sweat run down his entire body as he climbs up to the top. The heat is stifling and the humidity almost unbearable as the bamboo trees encompass and fall in on him.


The view at the top just beneath the moon is spellbinding to say the least. The moon shines and gleams in the light of the sun, reflecting the breathtaking view below. A local water-lady shows him a path which leads to the very peak itself. There is no proper path. Only a trail, muddy from the earlier rain.


He hikes upwards. Undaunted. He almost slips a couple of times but does not fall. He no longer sees anything except the trail, watching his step for fear of falling. Halfway up, the trail becomes a climb of rocks. He tests every foothold properly before placing his entire weight on it. Mother Nature is testing him and he will pass her test.


At the top of the moon, there is a seat of stone. A throne. For the greatest king. Crowned with the blessings of Mother Nature. Tried, trialed and tested. Where he now sits, he is king of both the world and the moon. This must have been the very seat of God when He created the world.


He can imagine it. Before him, the karst hills erupt from the ground and thunder upwards to the sky. The rivers snake their way to the wide oceans. Green trees spring forth and clothe the entire land. With the coming of man, houses appear like Monopoly houses with their boxes of paddy fields, cars but the size of toy cars. Smaller. Here, he causes the clouds to part. Here, he causes the sun to beat down upon the paradise he has created. Here, he beckons the Immortals to dwell.

Guilin - Yangshuo (Boat)

A scholar's most feared enemy is a broken pen. How can his words flow smooth like the graceful Li River on which he sails downstream? How can he express the beauty of the innumerable karst hills populating the landscape when the very instrument with which he conveys his thoughts and emotions betray him?

Karst hills dot the entire area, rising sharply as cliffs from the very banks of the river, its sheer walls and deep caves carved out ages ago by the river. Karst hills further inland sport weather-beaten rocks that tease his mind and flirt with his imagination. Breaks within the hills give way to ensconced wooden houses sporting curved eaves. An elaborate ancestral hall or temple peeks through the trees. Enticing. Beckoning.

The Tang writer Han Yu wrote of the river:

The river forms a green gauze belt, the mountains are like blue jade hairpins.

He thinks the river is like a jade green snake slithering its way through a forest of karst hills resembling young emerald bamboo shoots.

Overhead, a flock of cormorants fly in formation against the cloudy sky of Guangxi Province. A karst hill rises sheer and steep by the banks, reminiscent of Tolkien's Argonath. Tall and ominous. Foreboding. Forbidding.