The same day we finished our hike of “Yellow Dragon” we continued on to a place called 九寨沟 (jiu zhai gou), a place that literally means “Nine Village Valley”. Can you guess? It has nine villages. Well, Amy was set on doing a home stay at one of the villages, so we just needed to find a place to sleep for the night outside the park where we could also dump some of our stuff for a day while we hiked.
The driver that Emma had set us up with, though, had some kind of family conflict that he wanted to go back for, so he got another driver to take us. He took some of the money we’d given him and paid the new driver, so there was no drawback for us. Plus, the car was comfier and warmer. At this point, this wasn’t even weird. We’d been transferred off to someone else before.
Finally, when we got to the Jiu Zhai Gou area we woke Amy up—having waited to the last possible moment to wake the beast from her slumber—because she had the hotel information. Now, this part is a little fuzzy. Amy was newly awake, Tim was most likely relatively clueless, and I was pretty out of it, too. Amy had booked a hostel for the night, but the driver told us that it was fairly far in the other direction and that he’d help us find a hotel in whatever our price range was. Again, not weird. Chinese people can be fairly helpful. Stuff like this had happened a million times.
So, we drove to a hotel, he went in for us, and told us that there were no more rooms left, so he took us to another place. He took us to another place and told us to wait in the car again while he checked it out for us. THIS was suspicious. A little too nice, ya know? Why was this guy going overboard for us? Amy, an insane, skeptical, paranoid New Yorker, was convinced that this guy was going to try to kill us, sell us, or do some other horrifying thing. Tim was convinced he was just a really nice guy. I was a little suspicious, but I was also assuaged by my past, positive experiences in China.
However, the guy did tell us to go up and see the room to see if it was ok with us. Excited by the sight of the air conditioner on the wall (which Chinese people use to heat their rooms) and therefore the prospect of a warm night, we accepted.
The driver then took us to a Tibetan dinner that Tim had wanted to go to. He arranged that, too. We again wondered why he was being so nice.
Dinner was more of a performance than anything. The food was excellent. They had roast potatoes the size of small eggs, incredible meat that just fell off the bone, and the sweetest tasting alcohol I’ve ever had, which they just kept refilling.
The dinner hosts stood in the middle of the elaborately painted room and sang, danced, and mocked a few of the dinner guests. It was all good fun. They even took us outside after dinner to teach us a few dances around the fire pit.
And when we were done? Our driver was there to pick us up. He brought us back to the hotel (which we paid for this time) and then left for good. We got a decent sleep in our heated hotel room and woke up the next morning for what would be one of the most beautiful hikes I’ve ever experienced.
The driver that Emma had set us up with, though, had some kind of family conflict that he wanted to go back for, so he got another driver to take us. He took some of the money we’d given him and paid the new driver, so there was no drawback for us. Plus, the car was comfier and warmer. At this point, this wasn’t even weird. We’d been transferred off to someone else before.
Finally, when we got to the Jiu Zhai Gou area we woke Amy up—having waited to the last possible moment to wake the beast from her slumber—because she had the hotel information. Now, this part is a little fuzzy. Amy was newly awake, Tim was most likely relatively clueless, and I was pretty out of it, too. Amy had booked a hostel for the night, but the driver told us that it was fairly far in the other direction and that he’d help us find a hotel in whatever our price range was. Again, not weird. Chinese people can be fairly helpful. Stuff like this had happened a million times.
So, we drove to a hotel, he went in for us, and told us that there were no more rooms left, so he took us to another place. He took us to another place and told us to wait in the car again while he checked it out for us. THIS was suspicious. A little too nice, ya know? Why was this guy going overboard for us? Amy, an insane, skeptical, paranoid New Yorker, was convinced that this guy was going to try to kill us, sell us, or do some other horrifying thing. Tim was convinced he was just a really nice guy. I was a little suspicious, but I was also assuaged by my past, positive experiences in China.
However, the guy did tell us to go up and see the room to see if it was ok with us. Excited by the sight of the air conditioner on the wall (which Chinese people use to heat their rooms) and therefore the prospect of a warm night, we accepted.
The driver then took us to a Tibetan dinner that Tim had wanted to go to. He arranged that, too. We again wondered why he was being so nice.
Dinner was more of a performance than anything. The food was excellent. They had roast potatoes the size of small eggs, incredible meat that just fell off the bone, and the sweetest tasting alcohol I’ve ever had, which they just kept refilling.
The dinner hosts stood in the middle of the elaborately painted room and sang, danced, and mocked a few of the dinner guests. It was all good fun. They even took us outside after dinner to teach us a few dances around the fire pit.
And when we were done? Our driver was there to pick us up. He brought us back to the hotel (which we paid for this time) and then left for good. We got a decent sleep in our heated hotel room and woke up the next morning for what would be one of the most beautiful hikes I’ve ever experienced.