Day 12 Kayaking on the Li River

Day 12 01 February Kayaking on the Li River (DEA)

We wake this morning at dawn and breakfast well. Elizabeth has oatmeal with bananas and a large coffee : I am a more moderate fellow and settle for a medium coffee with just a few sides : two eggs, two toast, two strips of bacon and too many French fries. Elizabeth helps me choke down my freshly squeezed orange juice and we are ready to face the morning, or at least that portion of the day which features the Li River.

Our driver arrives promptly at nine and we spend the next thirty minutes carrining about town collecting coadventurers for our epic voyage. Two French bankers and am Egyptian engineer later we arrive at the Li where a bamboo raft carrying five little kayaks, a bunch of paddles and assorted pfds chugs into view. Thus equipped we are launched onto the Li.

This part of the river is devoid of the larger craft that carry tourists and local travellers between Guilin and Yangshuo and all points between. Nor does it have the armada of bamboo rafts we were amongst just two days ago . Rather, the river seems to be not very populated with local traffic. There are fish traps or farms composed of net tubes running parallel to the shore in the shallows, all marked with water bottles as buoys. There are small family owned docks with moored rafts and playing children. Men and women can be seen on the shoreline washing, fishing, or just throwing stones into the water and laughing at the splashes. The sky is blue, clouds fluffy white, wind gentle and temperature warm. I am smiling like a maniac; Elizabeth seems happy too, and I smile even more.

The Engineer, whose name is Mia, is quite inexperienced with water craft so I tell her to listen to Elizabeth and follow her advice in case of uncertainty. The French bankers are experienced water rats and completely comfortable with their new boats. The company guide putts ahead on his raft, seemingly relaxed but in fact keeping a careful but unobtrusive eye on us all.

So we paddle into the middle of the day. There is some fast water to our left which Elizabeth tackles with joy. I take a more leisurely approach, first reminding Mia to continue paddling regularly and steer into the open tops of the V shapes. Of course I get drenched, but hey, that's what water is for!

I turn back upstream to watch Mia and also to get a sense of the current. At this point I have to make a major effort to stay stationary relative to the shore. Perhaps Elizabeth could make some headway here, but not me!

At this time of year the water is low and there are sandbars. Close to the shore is shallow and in some places quite weedy
The French legation has taken to standing on their boats and seem to be doing quite well with this approach.

We pass a little village where there are apparently n natives in bright local costumes ready to dance and sell us lunch, but we stay on the water. This is too much fun to stop, even briefly. Elizabeth takes a stab at stand up Kayaking and manages brilliantly.

Some more quick water and the landscape is slightly different - somehow almost like the Gatineau hills just south of Ottawa along the river. Of course, there are some minor differences including karst mountains off to the side, huge stands of enormous bamboo, the ubiquitous Chinese rafts, and a gentle whiff of gunpowder on the breeze.

I am getting tired but still making reasonable progress when quite suddenly a large bridge drifts into view and we are at the end of our excursion. I have the wobbles getting out of the boat - 4 hours cross legged can do that to me - - and am feeling parts of my arms that I didn't know I own, but still wholly overjoyed by the trip. Elizabeth remarks that this may be the highlight of our vacation :she may well be right.

At 1:30 we pile back into the van and are returned to our hotel. I am quite wet, including my shoes, but we dry off quickly and head downstairs to lunch.

We are both quite in need of carbohydrates so Elizabeth orders some sort of macaroni dish and I opt for the Sheppards pie. It is tasty but not my favourite incarnation of this dish. Elizabeth has a large coffee and I order a second beer

Afterwards we head upstairs but are distracted by Alf, one of the hotel owners. He is an Australian of Spanish descent who trained as an electrician before travelling much of the world as a bartender and tour guide. He and his wife (a local girl) have owned this place for seven years. They have two children and business seems to be working for them. He is apparently a devoted walker so Elizabeth and I agree to meet him tomorrow morning for a ramble around the neighbourhood.

Finally upstairs I decide that my image has suffered quite enough. In addition to trying to walk in new and unfamiliar mule sandals, I am still shaky from the last two days activities: these, combined with the remainder of my beer clenched firmly in hand convey a strong image of the indolent foreigner who is drunk by noon. So enough! I take the blow drier to my poor abused shoes and spend a few moments organizing my laundry. This turns out to be a good idea because we have new neighbours. In fact, lots of new neighbours. The hotel is filling up. All good., as Lucy might say.

We spend the balance of the daylight on the balcony or on the room doing small tasks, writing, or looking at email. I send a note to Janet giving her or return to Canada schedule, and we start talking about when we will eat again.

Downstairs once more, this time for a simple garlic pizza which we consume with gusto on the terrace in front of the hotel. Every room is booked tonight and the staff are working to fill capacity, with smiles all around. Alf is quite excited by all the action and the simple villagers of Yangshuo are burning enough gunpowder to inspire envy in the most cacophilic artillery brigade. Hooray

We retire upstairs weary and content.