The Southwest Voice

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On a boat tour on the Li River, we saw some of the most scenic places in all of China –– crystal blue water bordered by interesting, rocky peaks covered in green. But one of the more memorable events on the riverboat was what was served for lunch: deep-fried crabs and crawfish.

The crabs were a little smaller than silver dollars and were served whole.  At first hesitant, we looked to our guides for direction. They advised us that the locals eat the entire crustacean, claws, shell and all! 

Some of the more adventurous travelers tried them with mixed reviews on the taste — I didn’t care for the pieces of shell which stuck between my teeth and there was almost no flavor except for the oil in which they were cooked.

The crawfish were also served whole, with their little eyes appearing to look back at us. We did have a few people who claimed to enjoy the “delicacy,” but I found their flavor to be entirely too fishy. 

Luckily, our guides had advised us to eat well at breakfast and to take an extra muffin or two for the excursion. Despite the strange fare which upset some of our fellow travelers, I classified the meal as just one more of our many adventures.

Although we did not have time to take full advantage of all Guilin had to offer, we were told that the surrounding area is beautiful for a backpacking or cross-country bicycling trip. 

A local guide would be necessary, however, to consult for the correct time of year and paths to travel. The rainy season is from May to June, but precipitation is no stranger to the green countryside. Summer has temperatures in the 90s, accompanied by high humidity which brings an abundance of insects, especially mosquitoes. Winter temperatures are usually mild, but occasionally it does snow. 

Though this area is known to have vipers in the surrounding foothills and bats in the caves, most back-to-nature types are not dissuaded by these drawbacks when they see the unmatched glory that is Guilin.

We then disembarked the boat at Yangshuo (pronounced Yan-shor).  Vendors lined the streets selling everything from silks to beaded bags to trinkets. Tourists can be overwhelmed when their attention is constantly being sought by the shop’s proprietors. Some of the more persistent sellers follow potential patrons down the street, offering their “best price” which seems to lower the farther they both walk.

We turned from the street along the river and walked a couple of blocks inland. The locals rode down the streets on bicycles while holding their umbrellas — an unusual site for most Americans. Then we saw a most interesting garment: a hooded rain poncho that covers a driver and his motorcycle.  

Since trucks are quite expensive, the next best thing is a bicycle toting a 2-by-3-foot trailer. Loads of firewood, scrap cardboard, bamboo, building materials, wares for the stores, or crates of ducks or birds headed for market were heaped onto the trailers.

These bicyclists trudged down the road with their one-speed bikes and payloads more than five feet high and six feet wide — strong legs are a must for these poor people. Then in a clash of old and new, they pulled out their cell phones! 

Besides the wonderful sites in Guilin, there were two other very important reasons for it being a favorite: the beds and the food.

Our first night in China had been one of exhaustion — we could not wait till we could plop down in a cozy bed to go to sleep. I can still remember the sound of my husband tossing himself down on the bed when we walked into our hotel room: “thud!”

The beds are the equivalent of a sheet over table top, the absolute hardest ones I have ever experienced. Yes, they have springs, but there is no give in them. These rock-hard beds were the same all over in China, in every five-star hotel we stayed, except in Guilin. 

The city has my undying thanks for providing us with the only three good nights’ sleep we had in the country.

In the Chinese restaurants where went, chicken, pork and fish dishes were served with the bone left in, but not in the way that most Americans are used to. The cooks took cleavers and chopped through chicken legs and thighs to form one-inch strips, leaving splintered shards of bone projecting from the pieces of meat. Pork was chopped into small irregular sizes with bone surprises in almost every bite and the fish was served gutted, but whole.

These dishes were troublesome since we had plates as small as saucers and only the use of either chopsticks or forks with which to eat. Without a knife, removing the bones was a tedious and time consuming task. 

For some reason, the chefs in Guilin took the time to remove the bones from their meat dishes. It was wonderful to eat not fearing being stabbed in the mouth or throat with a stray bone, which was just one more reason why Guilin proved to be the best all-around vacation destination in China.

E-mail Margie at: E-mail her at: custer@ix.netcom.com   

Look for more of “The China Chronicles” in following issues of The Voice. Margie Custer is a Southwest resident and writer.