Base camp for the last couple of days has been the stunning village of Lijiang, still in the Yunnan province but nearing the border with Tibet. Like Dali, the old town centre is almost perfectly preserved - a labrinth of cobblestone streets and gurgling canals, teeming with exotic stalls and appetising aromas. Asia really gets going after dark (apart from Mei who's packed it in already) - once the sun sets the red latterns blaze into life and the cheery glow of noodle shops beckon invitingly at every corner.
But enough of the feel good pleasantries. The real action today was the taming of the mighty Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. For once the Chinese affection for rather grandiose names proved warranted and then some (although, one might point out, Mei's surname Zhu - literally 'pig' - also delivers in that respect :). The Dragon is a mighty pinnacle of foreboding stone and ice that towers a collosal 5500m above the Lijiang valley. The first section of the ascent is a stomach churning 2km gondola ride (not helped by the sickly watery syrup that the cafe at the bottom optimistically hailed as a genuine 'america mocha'). The gondola tops out at 4506m, and from there the push to the top viewing platform is on foot along an icy pathway. It's only 200m vertically. "Only 200m. No problem. Too easy. They want to sell ME oxygen bottles!? With my superior physique!? Screw that!!" Such were Rock's lofty claims as he strode purposefully from the gondola. That's when the first icy blast of driving snow hits. " It's gonna take more than a bit of a breeze to stop me!" That's when the air suddenly doesn't seem to want to fill the lungs. That's when the legs start to wobble. That's when head seems to float away from the body and a wave of dizziness hits. That's when Rock's rhetoric steps up another notch. "Pah, altitude sickness is for noobs! It will pass in a few minutes" Alas words are cheap. Heck even Mei 'I'm on a diet' Zhu can afford them. The mighty Jade Dragon doesn't roll over without a fight. The vicious assualt of icy wind is unrelenting; the strain on oxygen sapped muscles is unforgiving; the humiliation as 80 year old, chain smoking Chinese men casually stroll past whilst whisting light mountaineering songs is the last straw. Thus over an hour later the Long March comes to a triumphant end with the obligatory photo shoot at the tacky summit marker. Of course, the descent is much faster with the knowledge that chili egg plant awaits at the bottom...
Regards,
Rochester Cahan
--------------------------
Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment