Mud fest!

Our last day in Yangshuo was like Glasto '98 all over again! We took to the roads on our rented (decrepid) bikes to explore the surrounding region. Maybe climb a couple of hills. Go rafting. We just fancied a bit of adventure - this being the reason I decided to take Tim off on a scenic detour down some dirt tracks off the main road, through some paddy fields, along the Yulong river and into the middle of nowhere.




That was about half an hour before the rains came. And when they came, they made quite an entrance. The clay track we were cycling on soon turned to one giant red river and without a raincoat, there was hardly any point sheltering under a bare bamboo plant. So we just carrired on. Eventually Tim found a little ledge to cower under while I made an appearance at a local farm house, where I was laughed at by two very giggly local women. At this point, we had no idea how far the nearest highway was in the direction we were headed, so we figured it would be sensible to head back the way we had come. Tim remembered we had checked out earlier that morning and had planned to get straight on the bus to Macau that evening, so we had no access to a shower. He turned from fun loving adventure mountain biker to madly angry charging water buffalo, and proceeded to set the pace at about 74mph back through the deepening river/road back to Yangshuo, worsening the effect of our less than adequate mud-guards.

By the time we made it back to the village, our clothes were sodden and we were stared at as we walked back to our hostel. We had to negotiate a half price room for the rest of the day so we could clean up - they could hardly say no seeing as it was their staff that persuaded us to hire bikes in the first place!

Unfortunately the photos don't show the worst of it - tim was wearing a jacket that was more muddy than anything else - needless to say that came off as soon as we entered the hostel...