Day two started off early. Very early. The plan is was to hike the rest of the way up the mountain to get to the clearest view at the top to watch the sunrise. Personally, I think that China has a lot of beauty to offer, including the mystical bamboo forests, West Lake sparkling in the afternoon sun, and colorful city-scapes seen from atop rolling mountains. However, if you’re looking for a breathtaking Chinese sunrise, you’ve come about 150 years and thousands of tons of air pollution too late.
This is not to say that the view wasn’t aesthetically pleasing, its just that after an hour or so of waiting in vain for the sun to peek its head out from behind the fading mountains to paint the sky yellow and crimson, we decided to walk back down to our “campground”. At this point, about 2 hours after my original wake-up call, the sun appeared as if out of now where as an illuminated disk too feeble to announce itself in paint, but finally strong enough to at least light up the sky.
Not too long after we decided it was better to beat the worst of the day’s heat rather than wait around, so we descended the mountain. It is considerably easier to descend in daylight than it is to ascend in darkness. Lesson learned. The light also made it possible to observe the mountain on which we had just camped and the interesting workers lingering at the bottom.
Apparently we didn’t get our fill of Buddhist temples by sleeping at one the night before, so we headed off to tour one of Taizhou’s largest and nicest Buddhist temples where we went “ooh” and “aah” over their fabulous ability to landscape, fill a fountain pond with wriggling goldfish, and air-dry millions of grains of rice on mats under the beating sun.
Of course the tour (led by one of our roommates friends, who just happens to live in the area and practice Buddhism at that very temple) did include other things that had to do with religion, but I couldn’t help but seeing this magnificent building more for its art and beauty than its religion and history. Even when surrounded by hundreds of golden gods the feeling was more aesthetic awe than spiritual surrender.
The Buddhist religion calls for a vegetarian life (among other requirements), so we decided to load up on veggies and tofu at the dining hall. Unlike ordinary sub-par dining halls in which you take your tray like an inmate to the food counter to pick up your grub, this place was almost like a restaurant. We were seated in a room (with air conditioning! Which cannot be under-appreciated on such a brutally hot day) where we waited for our dishes to be served to us on the rotating platter that all Chinese restaurants have and which puts our American restaurant-style of eating to shame. As the meal was a set order we didn’t have to ponder over which dishes to bring. Instead, we waited patiently for dish by dish to come out, not knowing what the next ones would be. However, in my opinion, whomever overcharged us so extravagantly in such a religious place really ought to be ashamed of himself. Our tofu and veggie meals absolutely could not be worth such an outrageous price. Nevertheless, we were relaxed, fed, and ready to take on our next adventure, the reason for our whole trip: The Waterfalls.
The bus ride alone was an adventure. One large bus on one very, very tiny road winding up the mountain. This was a Disney ride in real life, only with no seat belts and the looming possibility that, on a road that looked as though only the Knight Bus from Harry Potter could squeeze through unharmed if there ever were two vehicles on the same portion of road at once, just one overly-cocky car coming from the other way would mean us tumbling down a very large, steep cliff. Thankfully, we all made it in one piece.
Hiking was significantly easier as we had dropped our backpacks off with a friend of a roommate’s. Although we were all exhausted, the rushing water and beautiful scenery seemed to give us good reason to continue to lift one foot after another. Finally, we saw the waterfall. Not a little, dinky side-of-the-road waterfall where we soaked our feet, but a giant, multi-layered beauty that poured right into a perfect swimming-sized hole, complete with natural water slide. This was our goal, and it was worth the trip. No one had on bathing suits, though. At this point, one guy threw caution—and his shirt—to the wind and hopped right in. I followed him. Pretty soon nearly everyone was in the water. I was wary at first of sliding down a large bolder into unknown waters, but watching everyone else doing it and listening to a few encouraging words from friends I decided to have a go. Awesome.
Fully refreshed by the water, we carried on our way, proud of having accomplished our mission and eager to see what lay ahead. We passed more waterfalls, natural wildlife, and even a horse drinking from the stream while he waited to do his master’s bidding. Exhausted but happy we went back to the town of Taizhou where we stayed in a roommate’s apartment for the night before heading home.
This is not to say that the view wasn’t aesthetically pleasing, its just that after an hour or so of waiting in vain for the sun to peek its head out from behind the fading mountains to paint the sky yellow and crimson, we decided to walk back down to our “campground”. At this point, about 2 hours after my original wake-up call, the sun appeared as if out of now where as an illuminated disk too feeble to announce itself in paint, but finally strong enough to at least light up the sky.
Not too long after we decided it was better to beat the worst of the day’s heat rather than wait around, so we descended the mountain. It is considerably easier to descend in daylight than it is to ascend in darkness. Lesson learned. The light also made it possible to observe the mountain on which we had just camped and the interesting workers lingering at the bottom.
Apparently we didn’t get our fill of Buddhist temples by sleeping at one the night before, so we headed off to tour one of Taizhou’s largest and nicest Buddhist temples where we went “ooh” and “aah” over their fabulous ability to landscape, fill a fountain pond with wriggling goldfish, and air-dry millions of grains of rice on mats under the beating sun.
Of course the tour (led by one of our roommates friends, who just happens to live in the area and practice Buddhism at that very temple) did include other things that had to do with religion, but I couldn’t help but seeing this magnificent building more for its art and beauty than its religion and history. Even when surrounded by hundreds of golden gods the feeling was more aesthetic awe than spiritual surrender.
The Buddhist religion calls for a vegetarian life (among other requirements), so we decided to load up on veggies and tofu at the dining hall. Unlike ordinary sub-par dining halls in which you take your tray like an inmate to the food counter to pick up your grub, this place was almost like a restaurant. We were seated in a room (with air conditioning! Which cannot be under-appreciated on such a brutally hot day) where we waited for our dishes to be served to us on the rotating platter that all Chinese restaurants have and which puts our American restaurant-style of eating to shame. As the meal was a set order we didn’t have to ponder over which dishes to bring. Instead, we waited patiently for dish by dish to come out, not knowing what the next ones would be. However, in my opinion, whomever overcharged us so extravagantly in such a religious place really ought to be ashamed of himself. Our tofu and veggie meals absolutely could not be worth such an outrageous price. Nevertheless, we were relaxed, fed, and ready to take on our next adventure, the reason for our whole trip: The Waterfalls.
The bus ride alone was an adventure. One large bus on one very, very tiny road winding up the mountain. This was a Disney ride in real life, only with no seat belts and the looming possibility that, on a road that looked as though only the Knight Bus from Harry Potter could squeeze through unharmed if there ever were two vehicles on the same portion of road at once, just one overly-cocky car coming from the other way would mean us tumbling down a very large, steep cliff. Thankfully, we all made it in one piece.
Hiking was significantly easier as we had dropped our backpacks off with a friend of a roommate’s. Although we were all exhausted, the rushing water and beautiful scenery seemed to give us good reason to continue to lift one foot after another. Finally, we saw the waterfall. Not a little, dinky side-of-the-road waterfall where we soaked our feet, but a giant, multi-layered beauty that poured right into a perfect swimming-sized hole, complete with natural water slide. This was our goal, and it was worth the trip. No one had on bathing suits, though. At this point, one guy threw caution—and his shirt—to the wind and hopped right in. I followed him. Pretty soon nearly everyone was in the water. I was wary at first of sliding down a large bolder into unknown waters, but watching everyone else doing it and listening to a few encouraging words from friends I decided to have a go. Awesome.
Fully refreshed by the water, we carried on our way, proud of having accomplished our mission and eager to see what lay ahead. We passed more waterfalls, natural wildlife, and even a horse drinking from the stream while he waited to do his master’s bidding. Exhausted but happy we went back to the town of Taizhou where we stayed in a roommate’s apartment for the night before heading home.
