Saddling up in Songpan
Amy and I flew out of the Chengdu airport on a tiny plane arriving just under an hour later in the tiny Jiuzhaigou airport. We left Tim behind to take the 10 hour bumpy bus ride to Songpan where he would horseback ride for a day or two before meeting up with us again after our 3 day horse trekking experience.
When we first arrived in Jiuzhaigou we had to charter a taxi to Songpan. I don't remember how long the ride was. All I remember was the feeling of the tiny car rattling us around inside as it hugged the mountains on the right and avoided the cliffs on the left. The other notable part was how friendly everyone seemed to be to each other. At one point our driver even stopped when a man on the street waved him down. All he was looking for was a cigarette. I have no idea whether or not they even knew each other. People waved on the street, smiled out the window, and just had a general air of cooperation and understanding. It was refreshing, actually.
Our cabbie actually switched us off. He stopped at one point, told us to get out of the car, and handed us off to another guy saying the ride would be easier in his vehicle. Not needing to pay anything extra and without any real alternative or ability to question the situation, we got in the other car and continued our journey all the way into Songpan.
Songpan is quaint. It consists of one street. The street is long and divided by a couple of stone arches, but it's just one street all the same.
Amy and I had a delectable breakfast at Emma's Kitchen consisting of warm milk with honey and chocolate crepes for me and a yak burger for Amy, who is unable to handle traditional Western breakfast foods. All of the food was freshly cooked or prepared by Emma, the extraordinary owner of the restaurant. When Amy ordered "fresh orange juice" we actually watched Emma go next door to the fruit stand, buy oranges, and squeeze them into the most refreshing and satisfying orange juice I've ever had. Not only does Emma make crepes to rival the Burlington, VT crepe stands and even some of the ones straight off the street in Paris, but she also speaks English, which she learned herself from traveling tourists who pass by her restaurant. She also gives excellent traveling advice and will even book you a long distance cab or help you plan the next part of your trip.
After we met our angel in disguise, we decided to wander the town. This was not our original plan, but as the horse trekking guide with whom we'd confirmed our plans forgot to tell the guy in charge, the 3 day horse trekkers left right under our noses while we were devouring breakfast. It was annoying, but we had no choice but to cope with it. So, Amy and I started off on the one and only Songpan road, looking for gifts and other treasures.
Every shop seemed the same on the outside--scarves, dried yak meat, jewelry, and other Tibetan treasures and trinkets--but if you're looking for special finds you have to be patient and go digging through the merchandise. Don't be afraid to haggle, either. With some good haggling we ended up with some beautiful scarves and jewelry to take home as loot. Our bags a little heavier, we walked bag around lunch time and had another Emma's specialty before heading off on our horse trek.
The first hour of the trek was filled with "ooh"s and "aah"s. I was wide eyed and opened mouthed as we headed up into the mountains. As I looked behind me I found that the mountains parted perfectly to give us a view of the quaint town below. We headed through paths of golden yellow trees electrified by the sun. Even the slightest increase in speed on my horse made me let go of a crinkled eyed giggle.
We rode on for about 3 hours, finally descending into a valley village where we would spend the night. As it was just Amy and myself rather than a large crowd of tourists, our guide had could take advantage of his hospitable friends and family along the route. This first evening we slept in his friends house. We were welcomed inside and scooted towards the back where we spent the next two hours or so sipping tea--zhuan cha, a delicious Tibetan specialty--and talking with our guide. When actually sitting face to face with him, Amy and I noticed how open and light hearted he was. He would often crack a smile, letting off an innocent glow. He was also pretty funny and blunt. We covered serious topics, such as Chinese economy and culture and the effect of one on the other, and lighter topics, such as some girl who he thought was really ugly (and he had no problem bluntly pointing out all of her flaws, either), the tourists who he enjoys riding with, and the tourists who he and his co-workers hate the most.
To be honest, the tea and fruit Amy broke out during our pre-dinner chat were more appetizing to me than the meal they proceeded. I didn't love the over-garlic-y soup we had, which is odd because I love garlic. In fact, this over-garlic-ed soup seemed to follow me all along this horse trek. From house to house, dinner to the following breakfast, it always seemed to rear its smelly, over-potent head. My savior, however, was the phenomenal bread that everyone made. Lightly flavored and full of air, this bread rolled hot off the stove and perfectly into our bellies, with several sweet chews in between.
Then, around 8:30, it was time for bed. We piled under four thick blankets--still fully dressed in our many, many, many layers of clothes, our hats, mittens, and several pairs of socks, and dozed off.
When we first arrived in Jiuzhaigou we had to charter a taxi to Songpan. I don't remember how long the ride was. All I remember was the feeling of the tiny car rattling us around inside as it hugged the mountains on the right and avoided the cliffs on the left. The other notable part was how friendly everyone seemed to be to each other. At one point our driver even stopped when a man on the street waved him down. All he was looking for was a cigarette. I have no idea whether or not they even knew each other. People waved on the street, smiled out the window, and just had a general air of cooperation and understanding. It was refreshing, actually.
Our cabbie actually switched us off. He stopped at one point, told us to get out of the car, and handed us off to another guy saying the ride would be easier in his vehicle. Not needing to pay anything extra and without any real alternative or ability to question the situation, we got in the other car and continued our journey all the way into Songpan.
Songpan is quaint. It consists of one street. The street is long and divided by a couple of stone arches, but it's just one street all the same.
Amy and I had a delectable breakfast at Emma's Kitchen consisting of warm milk with honey and chocolate crepes for me and a yak burger for Amy, who is unable to handle traditional Western breakfast foods. All of the food was freshly cooked or prepared by Emma, the extraordinary owner of the restaurant. When Amy ordered "fresh orange juice" we actually watched Emma go next door to the fruit stand, buy oranges, and squeeze them into the most refreshing and satisfying orange juice I've ever had. Not only does Emma make crepes to rival the Burlington, VT crepe stands and even some of the ones straight off the street in Paris, but she also speaks English, which she learned herself from traveling tourists who pass by her restaurant. She also gives excellent traveling advice and will even book you a long distance cab or help you plan the next part of your trip.
After we met our angel in disguise, we decided to wander the town. This was not our original plan, but as the horse trekking guide with whom we'd confirmed our plans forgot to tell the guy in charge, the 3 day horse trekkers left right under our noses while we were devouring breakfast. It was annoying, but we had no choice but to cope with it. So, Amy and I started off on the one and only Songpan road, looking for gifts and other treasures.
Every shop seemed the same on the outside--scarves, dried yak meat, jewelry, and other Tibetan treasures and trinkets--but if you're looking for special finds you have to be patient and go digging through the merchandise. Don't be afraid to haggle, either. With some good haggling we ended up with some beautiful scarves and jewelry to take home as loot. Our bags a little heavier, we walked bag around lunch time and had another Emma's specialty before heading off on our horse trek.
The first hour of the trek was filled with "ooh"s and "aah"s. I was wide eyed and opened mouthed as we headed up into the mountains. As I looked behind me I found that the mountains parted perfectly to give us a view of the quaint town below. We headed through paths of golden yellow trees electrified by the sun. Even the slightest increase in speed on my horse made me let go of a crinkled eyed giggle.
We rode on for about 3 hours, finally descending into a valley village where we would spend the night. As it was just Amy and myself rather than a large crowd of tourists, our guide had could take advantage of his hospitable friends and family along the route. This first evening we slept in his friends house. We were welcomed inside and scooted towards the back where we spent the next two hours or so sipping tea--zhuan cha, a delicious Tibetan specialty--and talking with our guide. When actually sitting face to face with him, Amy and I noticed how open and light hearted he was. He would often crack a smile, letting off an innocent glow. He was also pretty funny and blunt. We covered serious topics, such as Chinese economy and culture and the effect of one on the other, and lighter topics, such as some girl who he thought was really ugly (and he had no problem bluntly pointing out all of her flaws, either), the tourists who he enjoys riding with, and the tourists who he and his co-workers hate the most.
To be honest, the tea and fruit Amy broke out during our pre-dinner chat were more appetizing to me than the meal they proceeded. I didn't love the over-garlic-y soup we had, which is odd because I love garlic. In fact, this over-garlic-ed soup seemed to follow me all along this horse trek. From house to house, dinner to the following breakfast, it always seemed to rear its smelly, over-potent head. My savior, however, was the phenomenal bread that everyone made. Lightly flavored and full of air, this bread rolled hot off the stove and perfectly into our bellies, with several sweet chews in between.
Then, around 8:30, it was time for bed. We piled under four thick blankets--still fully dressed in our many, many, many layers of clothes, our hats, mittens, and several pairs of socks, and dozed off.
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