While Xian was fascinating and we had enjoyed a wonderful day there the previous day:
…it was, in truth, a very polluted city indeed back then. The morning fog, which we experienced in several places we visited and which was especially bad in Xian, was, we soon realised, industrial smog.
I honoured Xian, with my metallic-tasting tongue firmly in my cheek:
The Friends Of The Earth Fresh Air Award
Indeed, the smog was/could be so bad, that our morning flight from Xian to Guilin was rescheduled to the early hours of the morning so it could get out of the city before the morning smog descended.
25 Nov – Xian->Guilin. 4.30 wake up call to get us out of Xian before pollution smog grounds us. Plane left on time – only 45 minutes late!). Arrived Guilin – went to hotel and then out to lunch.
The delay for this flight occurred after we had all boarded the small China Northwest Airline plane. It was a “technical problem” which, those of us who were sitting near the relevant wing, witnessed being resolved, whether we wanted to witness it or not. Resolution was achieved by virtue of a couple of men with hammers climbing up ladders onto the wing and then bashing away at something rather vigorously.
The flight also received my:
Claustrophobics Anonymous Award For Comfort
Remember the name: China Northwest Airlines – which just a few months after our visit suffered the worst fatal air crash in Chinese history to date. Actually it has long-since mercifully merged into a bigger, hopefully better, safer airline.
We felt quite lucky just to have got to Guilin in one piece. But Janie also felt quite icky by the time we got to Guilin.
Free afternoon. Janie didn’t feel well. I went for a walk through streets – shops/market/park etc.
I had massage, then out to dinner followed by cormorant fishermen…
You cannot go to Guilin without seeing the cormorant fishermen.
This is a traditional symbiotic fishing method on the lake, whereby the fishermen tame the birds and take them out on fishing expeditions with rings around their necks, preventing them from swallowing the fish. The fishermen help the birds to find the fish, the birds gather the fish and the fishermen let the birds eat the smaller fish.
Is that fair exchange between humans and birds? Who knows. Neither the fishermen nor the cormorants looked particularly happy, but then neither did they look particularly unhappy.
…and then snake feast in local restaurant for eight brave souls and several spectators.
Now here’s a story.
Janie and I were particularly keen to taste snake when we got to Guilin – we had been told that it was a local delicacy.
Our Kuoni guides, Chris and Sally, told us ahead of time that they thought it unlikely that we would be able to try snake. They were only allowed to take us to designated tourist restaurants in those days and such places did not serve such local delicacies as snake. They said that they would ask the local guide when we got to Guilin.
The local guide, Nina, seemed reluctant at first. She explained that the group would have to eat at a designated tourist restaurant, so any visit to a local restaurant would be extra, not part of the tour and therefore not really her (or Kuoni’s) responsibility. She also explained that it would be extremely expensive as snake is a delicacy and we would have to buy the whole snake. Nina mentioned the princely sum of FEC200, which was less than £25. I said that I was happy to underwrite that, even if no-one else wanted to eat or pay for snake.
As it turned out, once the idea had emerged as an “it could be done – is anyone else interested?” idea, there were several other people who were willing to join us and offered to pay for their share of the snake. Further, there were several more people – let’s call them anguine voyeurs – who didn’t want to eat snake but wanted to watch.
We ended up with a group of 15 to 20 people interested in one way or another, so it was agreed that one of the coaches would “snake off to a local eatery” after the cormorant fishermen visit, while the other would coil back to the hotel.
As soon as we entered the restaurant, Nina started barking orders at the staff and they started running around swabbing the floors and boiling up water in order to sanitize the cutlery and crockery for us.
For some reason, I was seen as the ringleader of the snake gang, so I was asked to step forward and choose the snake we wanted from a tank full of snakes.
Quick as a flash, like a University Challenge captain stumped by a question but who senses that a member of the team can answer, I said, “I nominate Nina”. Nina chose the above snake.
Next there was the delicate matter of the snake blood, which, to the locals, is the most prized and most valuable part of the snake. It is said to be re-invigorating and life-lengthening. Frankly, after that early morning start, the smog and the scary journey from Xian, I think all of us could have done with a bit of that.
I was the ringleader, so this honour was initially offered to me. But, frankly, I couldn’t stomach the thought of drinking blood and nor could anyone else in our group. I noticed a little old man sitting on a low stool and guessed that he was the patriarch of the family that owned and ran the restaurant. Nina confirmed to me that my guess was correct. I asked Nina to offer the prized blood as a gift to that gentleman, which apparently was seen as a very generous gift and within the bounds of local etiquette.
In those days China was still a non-tipping culture, but a tangible gift of this kind – well – that was different and very gratefully accepted. The little fella looked as though he needed re-invigorating and life-enhancing more than anyone else around, to be frank.
Then the snake arrived, stewed in a medicinal-style broth of ginger and other roots.
Janie, a little predictably, said that the snake tasted like chicken. I didn’t really think it did. Like all reptile, it tastes like light-flavoured white meat, but not really (to my taste) like chicken.
One more time now, let’s give it up for that magnificent snake.
All the photos we took on that day – by which I mean all 29 photos – can be seen in raw form in the Flickr album below:
