Hiking Tiger Leaping Gorge: A Complete Guide For The Average-ly Fit

I'm not one of those people that uses the term hiking indiscriminately.

If it involves paved paths, city streets or even flat trails, the appropriate term is 'walking'.  Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with walking- it's my favorite travel activity and mode of transportation.  Me encanta caminar!

But to refer to something as hiking should involve a bit more exertion and I feel qualified to differentiate between the two, having walked over 2000 miles during our travels across Europe as well as hiking Mount Vitosha in Sofia, Bulgaria, Vintgar Gorge near Lake Bled, Slovenia and Cadair Idris near Dolgellau, Wales.  All were strenuous, involved elevation and were mostly off-road.

In comparing those experiences to Tiger Leaping Gorge, however, it seems inadequate to call it a hike.  After spending 30 hours on the trail, it might qualify as borderline mountaineering!  

Rugged section of the upper trail near Halfway Guesthouse

Whatever you call it, preparation is key, but I assure you that if this mid-40's woman in average physical condition can do it, you can, too.  Here is what you need to know.

Get Ready

We arrived in Lijiang three days before our hike to acclimate, as the city sits at nearly 8,000 feet above sea level.  I didn't know much about high altitude hiking before Tiger Leaping Gorge, but when I showed up to our guesthouse breathing heavily after a relatively benign two mile walk from the bus stop, I suspected a few rest days was a good decision.

View of Jade Dragon Snow Mountains from Black Dragon Pool, Lijiang 

In between walks around old town Lijiang, I read up on the geographical basics of Tiger Leaping Gorge.  Located in Yunnan province, TLG is a canyon on the Jinsha River, a tributary of the Yangtze that passes under the Jade Snow Mountain range.  According to Wikipedia:  At a maximum depth of approximately 3,790 meters (12,434 feet) from river to mountain peak, Tiger Leaping Gorge is one of the deepest and most spectacular river canyons in the world.....the scenic upper trail is 14 miles long. 

Interestingly, I was swept away by the superlatives and sort of missed the whole elevation thing.

By reading several blogs, I gathered the following information:

• Most hikers spend two days/one night on the trail, sleeping at Halfway Guesthouse which is not actually half way, but only 2 hours from the end
• It takes about 9-10 hours to hike the entire upper trail from Qiaotou to Tina's/Walnut Garden, and another 4-5 hours to walk to the bottom of the gorge (and back) from Tina's 
• The entrance fee is 65 yuan (approx. $9.50, collected by the tourist office) for the upper trail and an additional 10 yuan (approx. $1.50, collected by locals) to walk to the the bottom of the canyon
• The guesthouses with the best food are Naxi & Tibet, and the nicest rooms are at Tea Horse & Come Inn 
• It is a strenuous hike, especially the notorious 28 Bends, a section of nearly vertical switchbacks that start at 6,500 feet and climb to 8,500 feet

Feeling adequately informed, I moved on to packing.

Walk this way

Get Set

Knowing that I would regret lugging any extra weight, I left most of my toiletries and all of my makeup (and vanity) behind.  In addition to the pants, tank, long sleeved wool top, puffer vest and sturdy Nike Zoom walking shoes I wore the morning we set off, I had the following tucked away in a packing cube inside my day pack.

• Toothbrush/Toothpaste
• Deodorant
• Dry shampoo
• Face wash
• Moisturizer
• Sunscreen
• Lip balm
• Wet wipes
• Toilet paper
• Underwear
• Socks
• Pajama bottoms
• Cotton tank top
• Patagonia long-sleeved thermal
• Flip-flops (for the shower)
• Fleece (cheapie I picked up in Lijiang)
• Windbreaker
• Scarf
• Snacks (cookies, candy, fruit, nuts)
• Water

In terms of gear, my only regret is that I did not have sturdier hiking pants and gloves for the trek.  It was a rugged trail and being March, a tad on the chilly side.   The pants I did wear, my Lucy 'Get Going' were thrown out immediately after the hike (they were pilly and looked terrible after only two months on the road) and replaced with a pair of Arc'teryx Gamma hiking pants which would have been perfect for the TLG.  I bought them with our Mongolia trek in mind, but surprisingly, have proven worthy as a city trouser!

We left our big packs (for free) at our guesthouse in Lijiang, the lovely Zen Garden Hotel, as we had one more night booked upon our return.  

Planning completed, we were ready to hit the trail.

Buddhist prayer flags on the trail.  The five colors are arranged in specific order and represent the five elements.

Day One:  Morning

We had planned on taking the public bus to Qiaotou for 24 yuan each, but our guesthouse, Zen Garden Hotel recommended the shuttle departing nearby for 40 yuan each.  The extra 32 yuan ($5) was worth not having to make a special trip to the bus station the day before to buy tickets.

Shuttle at the trailhead in Qiaotou

At 7:00 am, we were escorted to the shuttle stop by Zen Garden Hotel's friendly owner, who offered Perry a cigarette (he graciously declined) while complimenting his Mandarin with 'You are Chinese Number One!'  The bus departed at 7:30 am, and after a pleasant two hour ride (with a stop at the 1.5 hour mark for a bathroom break and chance to buy water/snacks), we arrived in Qiaotou.  An attendant from the tourist office came aboard the bus to sell tickets, and there were several options:

• Take the bus to the bottom of the gorge and then back up to Tina's Guesthouse for the 3:30 pm return to Lijiang (I was eavesdropping on the older couple in front of us, so not 100% sure)
• Take the bus to Tina's Guesthouse, at the end of the high trail, hike to the bottom of the canyon and back up to Tina's for the 3:30 pm return to Lijiang.  Our next door neighbor from the hotel, Joe, did this.
• Get off the bus in Qiaotou and begin hiking the upper trail, which is what we did.  Cost:  65 yuan each (and as is the case for most of China's tourist attractions), cash only

Ticket in hand, the bus continued a short distance before stopping at the trail head.  Despite being nearly full, we were one of only three couples that got off the bus.

GO!

Knowing my location and how long things might take was extremely helpful in maintaining a positive mindset while struggling through the tough parts.  I recommend taking a photo of the trailhead map which contains rough distances between landmarks, as we referred to it often.

The first two hours on the trail there was a steady rise in elevation.  After a chilly start, it had turned into a warm, sunny day and we quickly removed layers as we moved through the scrubby hills.  Between the various levels of altitude, exertion and weather, the removing and replacing of layers was a regular activity over the next day and a half.

While the views behind us were lovely, we were surprised to be sharing our experience with an enormous (and noisy) mining operation just across the Jinsha River.

Don't mind us as we carve into this scenic area...

While we started at the same time as Laurens and Aimee, a young Dutch couple, they quickly overtook my pace.  It was comforting to see them up ahead, as there were times we questioned if we were on the right track.  Luckily, signs are everywhere on the upper trail, so I promise you won't get lost.  If all else fails, follow the discarded candy wrappers and water bottles.  Yes, there is plenty of garbage on the trail and while it can be upsetting, keep going, because the higher you climb, the less there is.

After an hour and a half, we experienced our first major visual reward.  Over the hill, just past the mining site was a small village in a gorgeous valley and a better view of the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain range- an indication of the amazing scenery that was to come.  We joked that we had found Hidden Valley Ranch.

It took 30 minutes to make our way into the village (turn left at the T in road, FYI), and the super friendly Naxi Guesthouse for lunch.  Laurens and Aimee were just finishing their meal, but stuck around to visit as we ordered two bowls of fried rice, two plates of stir fried veggies and a hot butter yak tea (for Perry), all for 70 yuan ($10).  Even though we were starving and the food was delicious, the portions were huge and we couldn't finish it.  

Note!  As is the case in most of China, bring wet wipes and your own toilet paper for a bathroom break and washing up.  There was no soap, sink or loo roll in the squatty potties.

Sufficiently rested, we were ready to tackle the most difficult section of the trail.  While the first two hours involved moderately strenuous effort, the next three would test my physical fitness limits.  

It was time for the 28 Bends.

Day One:  Afternoon

Immediately after lunch, the trail difficulty was similar to the first couple of hours, moderately hilly with a few flat breaks.  Then, we took one last look behind us as and said goodbye to Hidden Valley Ranch and pleasant hiking.  In front of us was a lady with a donkey, who asked if we wanted a ride up the 28 Bends.

Say goodbye to the easy part

This donkey is hoping I don't want a ride

We said no, as it's scary enough being on the edge of a cliff on my own feet, much less clinging for dear life on top of some poor, overworked creature.

For the next section, I will give you the advice I wish I had had.  Don't be too hard on yourself. Take it slow and stop a lot.  Stop as often as you like.  This isn't a race and no one is clocking your time.  I spent a lot of energy frustrated in my inability to take a full breath and berating myself for having to stop after each bend (and sometimes halfway between them, too).

How many more of these??

Afterwards, I read more about high altitude hiking and discovered that it probably had something to do with how badly it sucked.  I was short on breath much of the time because at that elevation, you only take in 3/4 the oxygen that you would at sea level.

At nearly 9,000 feet, this is why the 28 Bends seem to go on forever.  The one good thing I can say about them is that the sound of mining disappeared and I savored the silence.  Fine, silence punctuated by the sound of my heavy breathing.  Whatever.

Eventually, after about an hour, they do stop and your reward for the effort is a view that will make you forget the last hour of cursing.

This was my favorite part of the hike.  For the next two hours, there was very little climbing and it was easy to relax and enjoy the scenery.  We had fun looking down at the crowds and tour busses below, while up high, it felt like we had the whole world to ourselves.

Three hours after we left Naxi and right 'on time' according to the map, we arrived at Tea Horse Guesthouse at 4 pm for a well-deserved coffee break.  To our surprise, Laurens and Aimee appeared with beer and chips and we sat together while rehashing the afternoon climb.  They had booked a room for the night and in the middle of such fun conversation, we debated if we should do the same.  

Most people do the hike on a two day/one night timetable.  In retrospect, I wish we had spent two nights on the trail, stopping at Tea Horse and then again at the end of the high trail at Tina's or Tibet Guesthouse in Walnut Garden before attempting to hike to the bottom of Middle Tiger Leaping Gorge.

As we wanted to start the day closer to Tina's so we had more time for the canyon hike, we decided against staying at Tea Horse and were on the trail again at 5 pm.

In sharp contrast to our warm and sunny start, the last two hours of the day were windy, misty and cold.  The scenery matched the atmosphere- rocky and rugged with very little foliage.

Two hours later, just after 7 pm, we arrived at Come Inn and for 150 yuan ($22.50) happily removed our packs for the night.  Outside our window, was this view.

The trail continues around the mountain on the left

Quickly washing up, we made our way to the dining room, which is just a hotel room with one long table and two benches.  Sitting there were two young Chinese women on vacation, friends from their university days, who had not hiked the trail, but were driven there via a long-winding rural road by shuttle van.  We were the only four guests that night and so we dined together, asking each other questions in English (me) and Chinese (Perry).  They helped him with a couple of new words (shower, interestingly something we desperately needed) and encouraged us to check out the beauty of southwestern Hunan province, home of the rock formations made famous in the movie 'Avatar'.

After dinner and a luxurious hot shower (not guaranteed in these parts) we hunkered down for the night.  As was the case for every place we stayed in Yunnan (apartments, guesthouses and hotels), our room had no heat.  The temperature had already plummeted to 32F/0C, so I cranked the dial on the electric mattress pad and was just getting cozy when we discovered that despite being the only guests (with ten available rooms), the ladies were directly above us and having a loud and boisterous catch up.  I was too exhausted to be irritated and fell asleep to the sound of giggles.

Up in the clouds at Come Inn

Day Two:  Morning

I awoke to a room that was so cold I half expected to find snow on the covers.  We dressed hurriedly and set off at 8 am without breakfast, as I was paranoid about having enough time to hike to the bottom of the gorge before the bus left for Lijiang at 3:30 pm.  With few snacks remaining, we each ate a Snickers, not the most nutritious choice, but I imagined it was practically the same thing as a granola bar.  

I felt tired without my morning coffee, but the crisp air and cloud covered scenery slapped me to life.  We followed a goat herder and his flock (check out this short video) around sharp bends and an unbelievable waterfall in the middle of the trail.  

The sweeping views continued as we made our way down the mountain towards Tina's.  

Two hours after we started, we arrived.

Tickets for the bus were purchased (55 yuan/$8 each) and after quickly scarfing down coffee and a veggie omelette, we set off for the bottom of the gorge at 10:30 am.

On the road heading to Walnut Garden

We crossed a bridge and started down the street towards Woody's (near the trail head), but after five minutes were distracted by signs advertising trails to Middle Leaping Gorge.  We paid the young lady 10 yuan each and started down the path only to realize it wasn't on the map or referenced by any of the blogs I had read.  After much debate, we doubled-back and continued towards the village of Walnut Garden.  Passing Tibet and Sean's Guesthouses (about 45 minutes), we finally reached Woody's and turned right onto a street that goes down and in the direction of the gorge.

I will be completely honest.  This section of trail seemed strange as it was less defined than the upper trail and I'm not 100% convinced we took the path described in the blogs we had read. Maybe the trail closer to Tina's was the best way to go?!  Anyway, if you go, just follow the yellow signs for Sean's Guesthouse (pointing in the direction you just came from), and you will get there. 

We quickly forgot about right and wrong because we were too busy taking in views like this:

With stunning scenery and downhill walking, this part passed far too quickly.  Down, down, down we went, until we reached the post where a local asks for a 10 yuan payment (for trail maintenance) to continue to the bottom.  We paid, and while the next section of the trail seemed a bit treacherous to be considered 'maintained', we pressed on to the mythical spot where the tiger leaped.

Could a tiger really leap across here?

Revel in this moment because now comes the ugly truth.  You must climb straight up to get out.

Day Two:  Afternoon

Just when you thought the 28 Bends were steep, hiking out of this canyon proved to be the real killer.  The bridge in the photo below is near Tina's Guesthouse, which we crossed on our way to Walnut Garden.  

That was our destination.

Where is a cable car when you need one?

It took nearly two and a half hours to get to that bridge, but only because I was hurrying so I could have lunch before catching the bus.  The difficulty was something I was unprepared for, as none of the blogs I read referenced it, just vague mentions of an hour down and a couple hours back.  Again, maybe we didn't choose the best/easiest path, but after being down there, I don't see how it could be any other way?!

We had heard about a ladder that you could take straight up the canyon wall to Tina's, and we did see the signs advertising it, but decided it sounded way too dangerous.  So we climbed switchback after switchback for two hours until finally, we stepped onto a parking lot.  Relief and joy flooded over me.  Though grit, determination and sheer will, I had made it.

Wait.  This isn't Tina's?

We surveyed the area and determined that we were on the main road, but quite a ways downhill from our end destination. 

I could feel tears of disappointment welling, but shook them off and began trudging up the highway.  After dodging several logging trucks, we spotted what appeared to be a trail on the hill that was steep, but more direct.  As we scaled it, I slipped on some loose gravel and fell, scraping my hands while trying to steady myself.  That was it, there was no holding it back.

The culmination of frustration and physical exhaustion, I began to cry.  Not stoic tears, but a quick burst of ugly sobbing followed by twenty minutes of snuffling, until Tina's finally came into view.

In the bathroom, I hastily splashed water on my face, embarrassed by this emotional episode.  Over lunch (stir fried noodles and veggies), we shared the experience with Laurens and Aimee, who expressed relief that they had enjoyed a leisurely morning on the trail and didn't try to attempt the gorge hike.  

On the bus ride back, I thought I might sleep, but adventure decided it wasn't done with me yet, and I spent much of the trip cringing in horror while the bus hugged curves on the edges of cliffs with no barriers and straight drops.  Parts of the road have been washed away by floods and rockslides, forcing the two way traffic of tourist busses and logging trucks to engage in a horrifying game of chicken.

See for yourself in this video.  And this one.

Conclusion

Despite the difficulties, hiking Tiger Leaping Gorge ranks near the top of most memorable things I've ever done.  Even though many tourists (and their trash) have passed through here before you, it still feels incredibly special and very off-the-beaten-path.  The views are beyond the superlatives in my vocabulary, but suffice it to say they deserve every last accolade.

However, while it's not Everest, you do need to be prepared mentally and physically.  

• The terrain is rugged and without a lot of the safety measures (guard rails, etc.) that we are accustomed to in the West
• The weather is unpredictable and you need to wear appropriate clothing
• You don't need to be a super athlete, but the trail is strenuous and you should have a decent level of physical fitness
• The elevation is not insignificant and its effect on people varies

Tiger Leaping Gorge is absolutely worth your time and effort.  It exceeded my expectations for natural beauty and wild adventure and now that you know what you are in for,  I'm certain you won't be disappointed!

Our Timetable: 2 Days/1 Night

Day One

7.30:  Depart Lijiang

9.30:  Arrive Qiaotou

9.50:  Start Trail

12.15:  Arrive Naxi Guesthouse  (lunch)

13.00:  Depart Naxi Guesthouse

16.00:  Arrive Tea Horse Guesthouse (coffee)

17.00:  Depart Tea Horse Guesthouse

19.00:  Arrive Come Inn (dinner and overnight)

Day Two

8.00:  Depart Come Inn 

10.00:  Arrive Tina's Guesthouse (breakfast/purchase tickets for 15.30 bus to Lijiang)

10.30:  Depart Tina's Guesthouse (walk through village of Walnut Garden to trailhead)

11.15:  Enter trailhead near Woody's Guesthouse

12.45:  Arrive bottom of canyon/Middle Leaping Gorge/Begin climb back up

14.30:  Arrive at Tina's Guesthouse (lunch)

15.30:  Bus to Lijiang

Thanks for reading!

Next time on Gobsmacked:  Off the Beaten Path:  Yunnan

Long-Term Travel & Relationships: The Peaks & Perils of 24/7 Togetherness

Exactly one year ago, on April 6th, 2016 Perry and I hit the road for parts unknown, with a rough itinerary and open-ended return date.

The planning had been in the works for nearly a year and in preparation for departure we had checked off a long list of tasks, from saving money to selling our stuff to getting our teeth cleaned.  We even had fun 'chores' such as researching destinations and poring over maps. We felt prepared, but in between trips to Goodwill and dentist visits, we missed a crucial topic.  

How we would deal with 24/7 togetherness?  And selfies?  But mostly, how much time together is too much time together?

Seafront in Gijon, Spain.  October, 2016

I read a few blogs written from the perspective of traveling couples, so had an inkling that it would come up at some point.  I remember one pair suggested booking weekend trips apart if the togetherness became too much.  We joked about our impending extreme cohesion, but after twelve years together (including living nearly three years in the UK), didn't think too much of it, and besides, until you live it, it's tough to prepare for it.

It hasn't come to separate weekends yet, but I can confidently say that long term travel adds a strange and sometimes taxing stress to a relationship.  No matter how many hours you think you spend together, you most certainly get a break from time to time.  Maybe you head off to separate jobs in the morning.  Or partake in different activities in your off-hours.  You probably have at least one happy-hour friend that doesn't overlap with your beloved.

Christmas Market in Munich, Germany.  December, 2017

Out in the vast world, we have nowhere to hide from each other.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking for sympathy.  Sure, there have been a few tense moments, but I'm pleasantly surprised at how much travel has enhanced and strengthened our relationship.  

Nebet hill in Plovdiv, Bulgaria.  July, 2016

Travel Togetherness:  The Bad

Because I know you really read this for the dirt, I'll start with the unsightly (and obvious) side of being in the company of your lover every hour of the day.   Lack of privacy.  

When you share the space of small apartments and tiny rooms in guesthouses, let's just say you become extremely familiar with each other's intimate habits and maintenance activities.  From bathroom schedules and favorite toilet time diversions (Fun Fact: I'm a fan of DuoLingo) to full view of personal upkeep (such as plucking that one hair on my chin), there are no secrets on the road.  

Douro Valley cruise near Porto, Portugal.  October, 2016

Idiosyncrasies.  Traits.  Peculiarities. Eccentricities.

Whatever you call them, get ready, because your beloved's quirks are about to become your constant travel companions.  Hate when he leaves whiskers in the sink after shaving?  Irritated over her habit of leaving food open on the counter?  Suck it up because there's no room to carry nitpicking in your backpack.  

Eagles Nest near Salzburg, Austria.  May, 2016

I'm lucky, because Perry is extremely conscientious, but even that became the source of an argument, once.

It's the inevitable downside of 24/7 togetherness:  an occasional confrontation is going to happen.  Since both of us tend be conflict avoiders, we are not big argument people, but do have them from time to time.  

I'll admit it.  I'm definitely the more difficult person in this long-term travel relationship.  I require regular caffeination, at least one hot meal per day and a decent bed the majority of the time.  I'm prone to crankiness and impatience and have been known to be just a teensy bit on the sensitive side.  

While some squabbles are solely my fault (such as the cringeworthy 'you're too conscientious' episode) most are centered around two mutually frustration-inducing subjects:  food and directions.  

Lake Bled, Slovenia.  June, 2016

Food has been the source of several disagreements because it's nearly impossible to be in the same 'food space' with another person all day, every day.  We all need to eat, but there are three decision making variables where things can go wrong.

• WHEN to eat
• WHERE to eat
• WHAT to eat

Stari Most bridge in Mostar, Bosnia & Herzegovina.  July, 2016

Perry prefers to snack instead of eating 'regular meals'.  In fact, it bothers him if he eats the traditional way too often.  I need something substantial like eggs for breakfast, whereas he's good to go with a banana, some cookies and a handful of peanuts.  Where I need some meat and veg from time to time, he occasionally considers carrots and chocolate milk a reasonable dinner.  A foodie he is not, and at home I had grown used to it.  But on the road, since we always eat together, it has been a constant friction point.

Also, hunger is an obvious source for quarrels while you are having difficulty ordering in restaurants without English translations or trying to put a meal together from items in a strange supermarket only to discover you have inadequate kitchen facilities to cook it.  I perpetually feel like one of those Snickers 'You're Not You When You're Hungry' commercials.  

Directions is the other primary argument starter and our biggest spat on the road happened in Sofia, Bulgaria. 

Cruise from Stockholm to Helsinki.  April, 2016

In our travels, I'm the chief navigator mainly because I enjoy it.  OK, fine, because I like to be in control.  Perry admittedly has a poor sense of direction but isn't too bothered or stressed out about getting lost or not taking the 'optimal' route.  I spend a lot of time studying maps (city streets, metro lines, walking trails) and I'm in charge of directions most of the time, so when I'm wrong, I take it personally.  

One day in Sofia, we decided to walk to the city center.  It was a long walk and the day turned out to be fairly hot.  The goal was to start at the the other end of Vitosha Boulevard, a pedestrian shopping street, as we had explored the opposite end the day before.  We planned to have a drink and get out of the heat for a bit before walking the length.

After an hour in the sweltering sun, I realized we were not in the spot I had planned and expressed my frustration.  What started as a volley of snippy comments escalated into a shouting match.  There we were, in the middle of a busy sidewalk, yelling at each other in English to the bemusement of the Bulgarians passing us.  Tired from our outburst, we walked home in silence.

We patched things up later, but I learned my lesson.  Double check directions, especially when walking in hot weather, and keep my pissy comments to myself.  Wait, did I really say directions were mutually frustration inducing?  

Zlatni Rat Beach on Brac Island near Split, Croatia.  July, 2016

Travel Togetherness:  The Good

Late night carrots at a ruin bar in Budapest, Hungary.  June, 2016

I'll try and avoid descending into Hallmark card territory here, but even this mush-averse gal has been won over by the relationship-building aspects of long-term travel.  

First, we discovered that we have the same favorite travel activities.  We are both hard core city walkers with a penchant for cat cafes and above all else, love spending hours in foreign supermarkets gleefully examining the strange and novel.

But as corny as it sounds, it's the shared experiences that have driven the deeper connection.  The ever-changing scenery, plus constant exposure to the new and exotic has provided countless 'did-you-see that' moments.  There are few days on autopilot and more fodder for inside jokes.  

Diverbo group outing in La Alberca, Spain.  November, 2016

Another perk has been seeing a whole new side of Perry.  Over the years, he has cultivated a variety of artistic talents and has never been afraid to stand out as unique and different, but since we've been living on the road, this impulse has expanded in a way that leaves me in awe.  During this time away from traditional life, he has really embraced his creativity by dabbling in photography (perryja.com) and nurturing various entrepreneurial ideas, including his plan to try every chocolate milk in the world and document it in his website (afoolzerrand.com).  

Being around someone who is excited about what they are doing is incredibly inspiring and helps make our days together more happy than not. 

Innsbruck, Austria.  November, 2016

Finally, our differences have created a travel compatibility that brings out our respective strengths.  When it comes to planning and motivating, I'm the COO and Head of Marketing.  I've got the more adventurous spirit and outgoing personality, and that coupled with inquisitiveness has helped build a bold itinerary (Hiking Tiger Leaping Gorge, Trekking Mongolia) to push us outside our comfort zone and experience new things.

Perry is our CFO and Head of Talent Management.  In addition to being our budget wizard, he balances my excitable personality with an unflappable calm and serene patience.  He also has super-smarts and a supernatural ability to read people and smooth over potentially rough situations.  

Together, our life stays interesting, yet runs fairly smoothly.

What I've Learned

Biarritz, France.  October, 2016

It takes a leap of faith to walk away from everything and everyone you know to travel the world with one person.

There are going to be moments of discomfort and uncertainty that can disrupt even a strong partnership.  You're going to encounter every mood and moment with that person which will test the bounds of privacy and intimacy.    

But the camaraderie you build with your partner while experiencing unforgettable and life-defining moments together is like relationship steroids.  Without the roid rage, infertility and ban from sports.

It helps to be extra conscientious (even if it might occasionally make me crabby) and to say thank you often.  Recognizing the contributions of the other person, whether it's his/her skill in keeping you on the road, making things comfortable or making you laugh keeps pent up animosity and grudge nurturing at bay.   It's easy to take each other for granted and since we fall into natural roles, it is sometimes hard to appreciate those efforts, but make it a point to do it anyway.

When diplomacy fails, mini-breaks really do help.  Sometimes, I visit a museum by myself or Perry will find a gym on the other side of the city so it takes longer.  If we have more than one room in our apartment, we work in them separately.  Occasionally sleeping in twin beds makes a difference, too.

I want to publicly thank Perry for taking this journey with me.  You have made the experience more beautiful than I could have imagined.  

Mush, blech!

Chiang Mai, Thailand.  February, 2017

Thanks for reading!

Next time on Gobsmacked:  Hiking Tiger Leaping Gorge:  A Complete Guide for the Average-ly Fit

Things I'm Getting Used To: Eating in China Edition

Greetings from the land of pandas and spicy food:  Chengdu, Sichuan, China!

We have been in China for three weeks, starting in Yunnan (toured Kunming, Dali and Lijiang), and all the Chinese we met raved about the food in Sichuan, especially how spicy it is.  Being a moderate heat kinda gal, I was a little worried, especially after the trouble I had in Thailand.

At a cooking class in Bangkok, I received some advice on how to interpret spiciness on an Asian menu, courtesy of the wonderfully cheeky, Chef Jay.

• One chili = spicy for the mouth
• Two chili = spicy for the belly
• Three chili = spicy for the a$$

Despite my attempts to avoid super hot food (which was actually quite tolerable going down), all the meals I've eaten in Chengdu have been a three chili situation.

What goes in must come out, but luckily, we haven't had any emergencies only to be stymied by this signage.

Apologies in advance for any grossness, but today's installment is all eating related, one end or the other.

Idiots Abroad

Thanks to Perry's Chinese, we successfully ordered Cross Bridge Noodle Soup

One thing we've been doing poorly fairly regularly is managing at restaurants.  We want to try all these new and exciting foods, but sometimes there is a trick to it that we miss completely.  You would think that someone with an aversion to looking like a dumbass would not choose the traveler lifestyle.  Yet, I plunge head-first into one embarrassing food-related episode after another. 

One of the first was in Thailand where we tried a Korean BBQ joint in Chiang Mai.  Why eat Korean in Thailand when we are going to Korea later?  Exactly, but we passed this place every day for a week and it smelled so good, I couldn't stand it anymore.  

At a Korean BBQ, you select raw food to cook at your table on a dome-shaped grill surrounded by a moat filled with boiling water.  While your meat cooks on the grill, the juice runs down to flavor the water where your vegetables are boiling.  I think this is how it's supposed to work, but at the time, we had no idea what we were doing.

First, there is the matter of deciding what to grill.  There was a buffet filled with meat, vegetables and condiments, which doesn't sound too intimidating unless you realize you've never seen half the stuff before.  We selected a variety of items and sat down in front of our grill. 

I'm kind of a food safety fanatic and was horrified to learn we had one set of chopsticks each.  Realizing you are supposed to place the raw meat on the grill with the same chopsticks that you put in your mouth, I chased down a server and procured several sets of chopsticks for various purposes- one set for raw meat, one set for vegetables and two sets for eating.  

I'll have an affair and a side of pizza.

Cross-contamination avoided, we began to cook, but the embarrassment was only just starting.

Far from easy or enjoyable, we couldn't figure out how long to cook many of our items.  Also, I didn't realize most of the meat was frozen, so when I popped a nicely golden piece (chicken? pork?) into my mouth, it was raw and cold on the inside.  I tried to discreetly pluck it from my gob and luckily, had the cover of darkness to hide my spitting.

Yes, adding to the awkwardness, the power had gone out (not just at the restaurant, but the entire street).  The grills ran on gas, but there was no air-conditioning or lights.  So there we were, sitting over a steaming hot grill in 90 degree heat with sweat dripping down our faces.  Candlelight did not magically transform this into a romantic moment.  I felt like a caveman.

On it went, trying to figure out how long to cook something on the grill or in the water.  I couldn't get the hang of it- it was one extreme or the other.  Either I ate the meat raw or charred to a crisp.  The vegetables were either rock hard or boiled into mushy oblivion.  

Maybe we'll figure it out by the time we arrive in Korea.

The embarrassment has continued here in China while trying Hot Pot for the first time.  We had been walking by Hot Pot restaurants for well over a week and I kept asking Perry if he would like to try it.  His wise observation was that it looked a bit 'involved.'

Finally, in Dali, I insisted we try it and he relented.  With his Mandarin speaking skills, I guess I was feeling cocky and needed to be taken down a peg.  

Drying chili peppers on the sidewalk in Dali

Well, ordering Hot Pot isn't a feature of Pimsleur's Chinese I-V.   If he needs to inquire on the status of a Chinese-German joint venture, he's solid, but asking for another pair of chopsticks or other truly helpful restaurant phrases remain elusively out of reach.  

When ordering Hot Pot, you first need to decide which vat of boiling oil to choose.  We stared at the few hand-written English translations on the menu, saw a surprising variety of selections featuring offal, but settled on the familiar sounding 'pork spare ribs.'

Then, we needed to order the bits to cook in the pot.  Sounds easy, but when half the ingredients aren't translated into English and you don't know how much to order for two people, it's not.  After pointing at a few items, we looked up at the waitress with questioning faces, trying to solicit any reassurance that our order wasn't completely inappropriate, but she remained poker-faced.  We tried to order noodles, not seeing them on the limited English menu, but this only confused her, so we dropped the request after several unsuccessful rounds of charades and Google Translate-fueled phone show and tell.

The items arrived and we faced the same problem as the Korean BBQ.  How long to cook?  As the restaurant got busier and more lively, there was a slight paranoia that every bit of banter and laughter in the room was a result of our ineptitude.  After much trial and error, we were just getting in the groove when a man appeared before our table.  

'Do you want noodles?'  He asked it in a way that I couldn't determine if he was asking sincerely or incredulously, like 'Don't you morons know you don't eat noodles with Hot Pot?'  Forgive me, this actually happened once in India, and it scarred me.

Am I doing this right?

We confirmed yes, we did want noodles (30 minutes ago, and still), but asked whether or not it was normal.  He laughed and assured us it was.  We ate our noodles and left quietly, relieved it was over.

Slightly gun shy by our experience, we ate dumplings for dinner the next four days.

Easy to order and delicious:  dumplings!

Bizarre Foods

Rabbit heads in chili anyone?

Isn't it really why we visit China?  To try strange and gag-reflex inducing delights? 

I have to confess, my first two weeks of eating weren't super adventurous and the odd things I've eaten have been by accident, like the small bit of beef stomach in my Cross Bridge Noodle Soup in Kunming and a piece of goat intestine in a local Naxi soup in Lijiang.  Perry has been a bit more daring, trying hot yak milk and yak butter tea, which he says tasted like burnt popcorn butter.  Mmm.

Our cautiousness ended last night, however.

We met up with Bob and Johanna, the Swedes we first met in Dali, who invited us on a local food tour sponsored by their hostel.  

The lovely young lady that led our tour took us down back alleys where every stall is a 'shits about to get real' situation.  First, there were the carcasses being butchered just inches from the pedestrians trying to avoid being run over by aggressive motorbikes.  Once cut, every part of the animal is displayed- feet, head, nose, stomach, heart, liver, intestines- it's like a free veterinary anatomy class!

Hello, Mr. Duck & Friends

Bob tried a rabbit head, and having eaten rabbit before (not a head) I can attest that it does taste a lot like chicken, but watching him nibble on cheeks and rip open mouths to eat the tongue was a bit too much for me.  Taking a break from the carnage, we walked for a bit, watching vendors make fresh noodles and fry up dumplings as customers shouted, gestured and haggled over them.  I was almost back to normal when we came the stall with the Century Egg. 

Bob ponders eating around the teeth of a rabbit

The Century Egg (or 1000 year old egg) is an infamous Chinese culinary delight.  An egg is buried in the ground with something caustic (usually baking soda) and two months later is dug up to be 'savored.'  The yolk turns a very dark green/black color and the white converts into a brown jelly.

See for yourself in this video.   

We capped off the night with a super spicy Hot Pot dinner which was quite fun since our Chinese guide did the ordering.  We have officially recovered from the shame of our last Hot Pot experience.  

Veggie Tales

In mundane-related food news, Perry and I are both big vegetable eaters and were looking forward to China suspecting there would be plenty of interesting new options.  This was confirmed during one of our walks around Dali, where we marveled at the quantity and variety of lush greens at the fresh produce market.

But there was no such luck when eating at restaurants.  I scoured the picture menu looking for vegetables and found precious few, just a few bell peppers and green onions for garnish.  I even pulled up a photo of broccoli on my phone which elicited zero results.

It was like being in a Chinese restaurant in the US, except the food isn't fried to a golden brown.

In Lijiang, we passed a fast casual Chinese restaurant and something caught my eye in the window.  Lo and behold, there were photos of dishes featuring broccoli.  Score!  We sat down confident that greens were in our future.  

Nope.

The dish placed in front of me was conspicuously absent of green veg.  Perry used his Mandarin skills to question our server, while I smiled and pointed at the placard featuring broccoli on the table.  With a confused look, she barked and gestured at us for several minutes until she stomped off to the kitchen and returned with four small sprigs of broccoli.  

After ten days of hostels and guest houses, we finally arrived in Chengdu to an apartment with a kitchen.  That night, I steamed a head of broccoli and ate the whole thing.

Thanks for reading!

Next time on Gobsmacked:  I Quit My Job to Travel:  One Year Later