China Part 5: Trash Shan



A quick Mandarin lesson: "Shan" means mountain. And "Trash" means a filthy pile of discarded Snickers wrappers, bubble tea cups, and Thousand Year Old Egg shells littering what should be a pristine trail to the top of a sacred mountain. Put them together and what do you have? Emei Shan National Park. Unfortunately, if Jiuzhaigou and Huanglong are glowing advertisements for the burgeoning environmental awakening of a nation, then Emei Shan is a throwback to the bad old spit-anywhere days of Five Year Plans and Cultural (or lack thereof) Revolutions. But more on that later.

 

First impressions aren't too bad. Bamboo-cloaked mountains fleetingly emerge from tendrils of mist that writhe between the peaks like the dragons of old.

Crouching Tiger Hidden Mountains. Unfortunately, mediocre attempts at poetry notwithstanding, the mist is problematic for mountain climbing. With darkness closing in and the mist unrelenting, Team J00ster seeks refuge half way up the mountain in wind-lashed half-way house, a fragile refuge from the howling fury of nature.

 

Ok, so it's not exactly a rudimentary mountain hut. In fact, this old world Chinese farmer's house has been converted into one of the most atmospheric B&B you'll ever come across. The simple rooms open onto a classic hutong-style courtyard, complete with perfectly positioned bonsai.

 The best way to solve the in-law problem is to make sure they speak a different language.

 

It may look peaceful, but in the hands of Jade Fox this is a deadly weapon.

Tough work this mountaineering.

Ancient Chinese proverb: He who moves mountains shall eat hot pot. Alas, it doesn't seem to be moving.

Welcome, dear friends. Now which one of you is trying to steal Green Destiny? Don't make me fly onto the roof to the lavish cello strains of Yo-Yo Ma.

Since summiting has been ruled out today, there's time to explore the neighborhood. Which turns out to be a working time capsule. Old farmhouses have been converted into upmarket holiday rentals and B&Bs that peek out from behind curtains of bamboo.

Since the mahjong tables are occupied, a pack of cards is the next best thing. An epic cross-generational battle ends with the old guard going on a stunning 11-0 run to claim the Hubei Cup.

As dawn breaks the next day time has run out. It's the summit or bust. The rain continues to pound down, but there's nothing like a hearty bowl of steaming noodles to fortify the soul for the long march ahead.

If that doesn't power you to the top, nothing will. Well, other than the annoying new cable car they've built.

No sign of a break in the mist as the gates to perdition loom large through the fog.

So, who's feeling like some mountain climbing? Evidently no one but Rock.

The only good thing about the mist is that it obscures the infuriating trash that is piled up on the side of the path. It's hard to comprehend how someone walking through a lush cloud forest could so casually defile the very thing they came to see.

Which is a darn shame, because this place could be so spectacular, mist or no mist.

Cherish monkeys? What about the grass, and the trees, and the flowers? It's not that hard folks. In fact, there's a trash can every 100 meters, so it beggars belief that people can't be bothered hanging on to their garbage for the extra couple of steps required to make it to a receptacle.

Enough ranting though, it's only a matter of time before the stellar example set by Jiuzhaigou and Huanglong filters down to the rest of the parks. In the meantime, at least one can set an example by picking up as much trash as possible on the way up the mountain.

There's something a little spooky about an ancient Buddhist temple suddenly rising from the mist, almost floating above the ghostly outline of the forest.

Fortunately the lonely trail is periodically broken by small refreshment stands selling everything from steaming hot noodles to bubble tea. Not the mention the ubiquitous Thousand Year Old Eggs.

Looks like a good spot to perfect one's crane move.

The good news about the mist is it means Mei can't see how far it really is to the top...

Speaking of the crane, here's the textbook stance, brought to you by Mei of the Wudang Clan.

And suddenly, out of the mist it emerges. Another big pile of rubbish? No, hang on, maybe not. A closer inspection reveals a giant golden Buddha perched on the back of four mighty elephants. Just in case there's any doubt that you've made the summit.

A momentary lapse in the swirling mist reveals the true majesty of Emei Shan. It also reveals another Snickers wrapper. Sigh.

Unfortunately, in addition to their prolific littering, the domestic tourists have taken to feeding the monkeys rather than cherishing them, as the UNESCO sign implores in three languages. The net result is packs of incredibly aggressive monkeys that leap from the trees and grab anything and everything not securely stowed in a backpack.

 

Oh look, they've learned to mimic the locals: gulp down a drink and then chuck the bottle over your shoulder. If you're going to evolve, can I suggest a different evolutionary path than homo sapiens.

Typical, as soon as we reach the bottom the mist starts to clear. Who's up for another two hour hike back to the top?

Nope, didn't think so. With no takers for his return expedition, Rock admits defeat and sets course for the bustling metropolis of Chengdu, the hub of the whole Sichuan province. After a week in the rugged mountains of the Tibetan plateau, civilization never looked so good. Especially when represented by the Buddhist Zen Hotel.

A bed fit for an Emperor, with room left over for a concubine or three.

Lanterns lighting up can only mean one thing. It's time to check out Chengdu's legendary food scene.

As the capital of the blazing hot Sichuan cuisine, Chengdu takes its food seriously. You can see why when you enter one of their restaurants. This one is as big as an airport wing. Yes, that's right, as far as you can see down that corridor is all part of the same restaurant. Kitchens have to be situated at strategic intervals lest the food get cold traveling a quarter of a kilometer to the diners.

Faster dude, faster. Earn that hot pot.

As one of China's largest provincial centers, Chengdu is bustling at all hours. Even better, every second street seems to be a so-called eating street. If the name didn't give the game away, that's a street lined with food stalls where you go to... wait for it... eat.

The Buddha Zen Hotel, one of the top spots Team J00ster has stayed in all their travels. If it's good enough for Buddha, it's good enough for you.