Day 257: Look out!

The alarm woke me at 4.30am this morning – Zoe had offered to set it for 5.30am for me so that I could get up to watch the sun rise over the rice terraces but then forgot to turn off yesterday's alarm. I didn't realise that it was so early and got up, got dressed, grabbed the camera (all in the pitch dark) and went outside, but as it was still raining, I went back inside and back to bed (and was woken again at 5.30am).

After breakfast, we headed for the second of the three lookouts over the terraces. As is so often the case, the signposting was pretty poor and when we were almost there (which we only discovered with the benefit of hindsight), Kate stopped to ask for directions. The helpful gentleman she asked sent us up some stairs that took us on a roundabout meander between buildings, up stairs, along paths, down stairs and through some truly gag-worthy smells but seemingly no closer to the lookout. We were ready to give up and go home when I looked down the hillside and spotted what looked like a likely path. Sure enough, when we figured out how to get on it, it was short walk to the lookout. As we looked out, it started to rain a little, so we retreated to the little hut that had been provided, where we were soon joined by three young Europeans – two Frenchmen and a German guy who were there on a day-trip. The rain got steadily heavier while we talked until it was properly pouring but eventually it eased off enough for us to walk back to the hotel. 

We lunched in the hotel – the food there was pretty good and reasonably cheap and there weren't many other options. Our hotel was one of three in a little cluster on the edge of a small village on a hillside above the terraces. One of the dishes the restaurant did particularly well was a simple vegetable stir fry and I was intrigued as to how they made it taste so good, so today I went into the kitchen to watch them make it (I think the secret is the addition of large quantities of salt).

The rain continued through and after lunch, and as the girls were all a bit tired from yesterday's and this morning's exertions, I set out for the number three lookout on my own. This was the farthest away of the three – roughly an hour's walk, and was also the disembarkation point for a cable car that takes you up from the car park down in Dazhai village, and which opened a few years ago. Early in the walk, I passed a young Chinese couple, the guy in a bright green t-shirt (more of them later). When I got to what I thought was the turn-off to the lookout, the sign said 'Farmer's path', which placed a large seed of doubt in my mind. I was still pretty sure it was the right one, but walked on a bit further to check and got confirmation from a local guide resting with his charges beside the path.

As I headed up the new path, I met the European guys from earlier and they confirmed that I was on the right path, but not long after I said goodbye to them, I came across an un-signposted junction. I took what looked like the more established of the two options, but after I had been walking for a while, I peered down through a break in the trees and saw several people walking thorough some terraces in the direction I knew I should really be going – including the green t-shirt couple. I couldn't help asking myself why the Chinese always seemed to know the way and we Westerners were forever getting lost. Anyway, I turned around and backtracked and finally caught up to them as we passed through another village below the lookout. Just as I did, I spotted another path going off to the left out of corner of my eye – and this one had a sign pointing to the number three lookout. The other two continued on down so I assumed they must be on their way down to the car park.

Some steep hill climbs later, I finally made it up to the lookout, where I pottered about taking photos of the terraces below. Walking a bit further around, I reached the disembarkation point for the cable car and couldn't help laughing. Although the cable car opened in 2012, the area where passengers get off still looks like a building site. Along with the piles of rubbish and random bits of building material and so n scattered about the place, the only indication that this was a major tourist site was the presence of a few desultory stalls selling souvenir tat. The focus was obviously only on getting the cable car finished so that they could start charging people to use it and they had made absolutely no effort to tidy up afterwards or develop the site in a worthwhile way.

On the way back, two figures appeared on the path ahead of me – the green t-shirt couple and the picture of bedraggled, exhausted misery. The poor things clearly hadn't been heading for the car park but had simply missed the turn that I had so fortuitously spotted and walked who knows how far down the mountain before realising their mistake. I sympathised.

Back in the room, we marvelled at someone who clearly had no shame about getting porters to carrying stuff for him - arriving at our little hotel cluster in a sedan chair being carried by four young men (not elderly Yao women, thankfully).