We were looking for an off the beaten track adventure and decided to leave most of our baggage behind at the guesthouse to head off for a few days to walk the Dragon’s Backbone Rice Terraces.

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We left the guesthouse in Guilin by a private “taxi” with a few other travellers to take the 2 hour drive to Ping’an. A pretty but very touristy village about 1000m up in the hills that are dotted with other villages occupied by the Red Yao people. Our room for the night had a stunning view over the valley and the rice terraces which date back around 600 years. Whilst a little over our budget, it was the best room we saw and the view was fabulous.

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We ate in a nearby guesthouse with Shaun, a young lone traveller from Chepstow of all places. He had been teaching English in Japan and was on his way home to the UK for Christmas. He was doing it the hard way, overland via the Mongolia and Russia railway. Our host for dinner was Mei, a really friendly lady who spent her “not working” time buried in a self teach English book. Whilst we ate and chatted she was busily reading out loud to herself the usual garbage these books teach you. “I can wait for an appointment but my toothache won’t”! We had a lot of banter with her including explaining the meaning of “urgent” by Neil pretending he was desperate for a wee…she soon got the meaning.

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Next morning we had the best breakfast yet with Mei whilst explaining a few more things from her book. Then it was off to take the 5 hour hike through the hills to our next destination Dazhai. We headed off up the steep track towards the terraces. The scenery was everything it was cracked up to be. The only slight disappointment being the fact that just a couple of weeks earlier most of the rice had been harvested. Our pictures couldn’t capture the natural beauty of the countryside or the amazing engineering feat of the terracing….truly spectacular.

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We met a number of people along the way many of whom had been ‘weak’ and given in to the constant hassle from the locals wanting to act as guides. Whilst the route isn’t particularly well signed it didn’t take much working out for anyone with an ounce of grey matter. One small group in particular, from Philadelphia, had hired two guides to get them to the terraces and then another local guide to navigate the terraces themselves. They were amazed that we were doing this alone, “Do you speak Mandarin?” “Not a word” said Neil. “How do you get by?” “With signs, pointing and lots of laughs!” said Cheryl, “and when it goes wrong you have a great story to tell”. They were gobsmacked at our relaxed attitude.

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The rice terraces area is the home of the Red Yao People. They are a minority people occupying a very small part of China. Apart from the brightly coloured traditional dress worn by the ladies they have one other claim to fame….they sport amazingly long hair and in the case of our host to be in Dazhai village, all the way down to her ankles! It is worn wrapped elaborately around their heads and often topped off with a black felt hat.

Once in Dazhai we set about finding a bed for the night. After about 3 or 4 attempts we settled on a room in the ‘Jinkeng Mountain Hamlet’ a traditional wooden hotel. Our host didn’t speak a word of English but with “sign and pointing” plus the aid of a calculator display we agreed a price of 50 Yuan, a little less than £5, and our cheapest room yet, and with the added value of a western toilet! The season is coming to an end here and the guesthouse was going through some improvement and all the chaos brought Fawlty Towers to mind. Her husband, “Basil”, was busy making a huge din with a circular saw in one of the adjoining rooms making our viewing of the room and the subsequent negotiations something of a challenge. “Sybil” shouted at him in Yao with something along the lines of “shut the f**k up” but it didn’t work and she turned back to us with a nice Sybil smile, as though nothing was going on, and encouraged us back downstairs to complete the formalities (parting with money).

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We had dinner, probably our best yet, in another guesthouse followed by a walk through the village, just in time to see our first whole cooked dog being prepared for the table. Just next door we bought some local bottled hooch after the proprietor had attempted to sell us his own various brews from large glass demijohns. Whilst the room and bed were very comfortable our sleep was not good. Our guesthouse had a number of animals freely wandering around, both inside and outside, pig, chickens and ducks. The cockerel had quite clearly not been given a watch by his owner as he spent all night roosting in a tree outside our window desperately trying to impress us with his “cock a doodle doo” (noisy little bastard)!

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Travelling independently does not always guarantee success, and we do get the occasional dud. Breakfast from our host was just one of those duds. Pancakes and eggs floating in oil, not at all appetizing but after a few mouthfuls it was amazing how quickly our appetites were satisfied.

After our “un-petit dejeuner” we caught a number of local buses to get us to The Chengyang Wind and Rain Bridge and the village of Ma’an. Yet another dud! Whilst both the bridge and the village were quaint , neither were worth the arse numbing hours spent on the buses getting there plus the steep £6 admission fee.

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However, it was not a complete dud as we did have some local “cabaret” after dinner. Just after we arrived in the village we met a couple who had been staying in the guesthouse in Guilin. We thought we might have bumped into them for dinner somewhere in the tiny village. It didn’t happen but on return to our accommodation we found them inside having their meal. They had been “adopted” by two local guys who had been drinking heavily.

The Dong people have a reputation for fun and these two guys were no exception. There was a total language barrier but with lots of laughing, singing and quaffing, we seemed to communicate and have fun. The highlight of the cabaret was the “gentle slow motion comedy falling” off his seat of one of the locals. Everyone burst out laughing as he went, taking everything off the table with him, including our bottle of local spirit. Check out the pics but no surprises for guessing who fell off his seat. The lady of the house didn’t bat an eyelid. She got off her chair and swept up the debris before providing more beers from the fridge. Cheryl shot off to buy more supplies of very expensive 32% proof…….for 60p!

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Next day was notably cooler so we decided to return to Guilin to catch up on mail and plan the next couple of weeks…..busy, busy, busy!

We know that at least two of our readers have done some very extreme travelling more than 20 years ago so to them this probably sounds all very tame. However, for us, just like the guys from Philadelphia, it’s good to get out of your comfort zone and take a few risks. Going “off piste” can be challenging to various degrees depending on your experience so we really enjoyed the last few days and It has encouraged us to do more.