Picture Postcard

Day 41: Yangshuo. A little out of breath after ascending the 1,251 stairs of the natural stone staircase leading to the top of Moon Hill, Karen and I fell silent. From our high vantage point, we were intoxicated by the dreamlike scenery that lay before us. In every direction - as far as the eye could see. All we could do was stand and stare.

The karst topography around Yangshuo is world famous, and such is it's beauty, it has become iconic with images of China. Soaring limestone peaks, rice fields, lazy rivers and tiny villages – the true face of rural China. The weather; cold and misty, somehow seemed to add to the atmosphere of this place and for the first time in days Karen and I forgot about our desires to head to warmer climes – right now, this is where we wanted to be.

Determined to see as much of Yangshuo's outlying countryside, Karen and I took to cycling, along country lanes and farm tracks, every bend in the road gave us a new picture postcard view, a new perspective to enjoy. So addictive was the scenery, so compulsive was the desire to 'let's just see what's down here' that we covered over 30km before our backsides started to complain about the levels of comfort offered by the rather narrow saddles of our rental bikes!

Inspired by the change of scenery, Karen bravely decided it was time for a change of hairstyle. Now, when I had my hair trimmed back in Beijing; getting over the language barrier was quite straightforward: I just pointed to the clippers and spaced a 3 millimetre gap with my fingers. But for Karen, it was a little more complicated. Clutching a piece of paper with some rudimentary Chinese phrases, meaning “Nothing off length, but layers” she sat down in the salon across from the hotel and thumbed through the pictures of a magazine looking for suitable Chinese hairs-styles. By this time she was causing quite a stir and a small crowd of local people gathered around as the stylist lobbed half her hair off with an implement resembling a machete. “It looks OK”, I said encouragingly as she emerged 1 hour later and £2 lighter. “I'm not sure about the back”, she replied hesitantly. “Perhaps I'll wait until we get home before I have it cut again!”