Spring Break: Day Five

Day five saw us getting back on the dreaded bus, yet again.  Things started out very well, mostly because we appeared to be making good time.  I didn't even mind when we stopped at a market that specialized in yak jerky.

Know what these are?  Wrong, they're yak shoulders and hooves.  Get your head out of the gutter.

There were about a hundred different kinds of jerky.  I would know, I tasted them all.

 After that, we drove until lunch, when we stopped for possibly the worst lunch I've ever eaten.  In addition to the terrible food, the place was freezing cold.  I didn't much care though, because we were still making good time.

You know you're not in Kansas anymore when you see a yak tied to construction equipment.

Perhaps I should have kept that kind of thinking to a minimum, because about an hour later, we ran into a small problem.  I knew were in trouble when we suddenly stopped in traffic.  They kept us on the bus for over an hour before they revealed that there had been another "disaster" (read: landslide).  I should have known the trip was going too smoothly...

I climbed a hill next to the bus to get an idea how long the traffic jam was.  Somewhere around the mountain was the "disaster"

Even in these desperate times the Chinese tourists still wanted a picture with the foreigners. 

Hear you can see the size of the rock slide that precipitated our stop.  I shouldn't complain about waiting when I could be sitting under all that rubble.

To add insult to injury, our four hour wait for the landslide to be cleared was followed by only a mile of driving before we stopped.  Like the "places of interest" that we visited on the way up to the park, this location had a distinct lack of interest.  It was intended to be an authentic minority village, but it was clearly built in the last decade or two, and was decorated with what looked like Navajo cave paintings.  Needless to say, we were the only ones that doubted its authenticity.  At one point we asked our Chinese friend, Luzheng, who was buying into the whole thing, to ask the guide when this place was built.  Her reply was, "It's older than me."  Great, except she was maybe nineteen years old.

With that over, we drive straight back to Chengdu, not even stopping to eat dinner.  Of course, once we arrived at 8:30 that night, we had to flag down two taxis in the rain.  Good times.  All was forgotten, however, once we reached our hotel, and then headed to the nearest McDonald's.  After three days of yak meat and sour roots, I was prepared to eat anything that vaguely resembled American cuisine.  So I settled into a booth with two Big Macs, two fries, and two drinks.  Somewhere they're is a picture of me with this monstrosity, but I have chosen to bury it forever, as it could only be used against me if I ever ran for public office.  Oh, but it was delicious...