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A Series of Ups and DownsCyclist Edward Genochio continues his odyssey, making the acquaintance of the 214 and its infernal cobblestones

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he map calls it the 214, but then modern cartographers lack the romantic instincts of their ‘Here be dragons’ forebears. Locals call it Dian-Zang Lu, the Yunnan-Tibet Highway (‘Dian’ being an ancient name for Yunnan, and ‘Zang’ the Mandarin for Tibet).

But Dian-Zang Lu has an alternative meaning in Chinese: something along the lines of ‘stomach-churning’ or ‘gut-wrenching’ road. And that is exactly what it is, a couple of thousand kilometres of stomach-churning, gut-wrenching, buttock-abusing track that hauls its way from tropical forests on the Laotian border up into the high mountains of the Tibetan plateau.

Far south , the 214 runs through Xishuangbanna, home of the 12th-century Dai kingdom of Mengle and now one of 21st-century China’s hottest tourist draws. In spite of the crowds and the kitsch, there are still good times to be had.

Jinghong, the site of the Mengle kingdom’s capital, remains the region’s hub today. Growth and development have squeezed out most of its remaining charm though, replacing it with a cable-car ride to a monkey park across the Mekong.

The Mekong, known in China as the Lancang Jiang, is the world’s 12th-longest river and the 214 shadows it for much of its course up to its source on the eastern Tibetan plateau (an area which also gives rise to three other great rivers, the Salween, Yellow and Yangtze).

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SHADY PRACTICE: (right) An umbrella parade in Dai Garden,

Menghan – an ethno-tourist curiosity that precedes a contrived, though nevertheless fun, water-splashing

festival (below)

“A colourful song-and-dance routine is followed by an umbrella parade led by tattooed men in gloriously camp pink-trimmed hotpants, and an ersatz water-splashing festival.”

In Xishuangbanna, the Mekong flows thick with silt, the result of replacing natural forest cover with vast plantations of sugarcane, banana, pineapple and rubber trees, which cannot hold the topsoil against the pounding monsoon rains. Twenty minutes by bus, or a couple of easy hours on a bike, downriver from Jinghong is Menghan, known also as Ganlanba. Here, you’ll find the Dai Garden, a curious mix of quiet Dai villages still lived in, worked and farmed, and raucous, Chinese ethno-tourism at its tackiest, plastic-wrapped best. A colourful song-and-dance routine is followed by an umbrella parade led by tattooed men in gloriously camp pink-trimmed hotpants, and an ersatz water-splashing festival. Suspend your cynicism and join in the fun – there is no better way to cool down as the afternoon heats up. Children will love it too.

Once the excitement has died down and you have posed for a photograph with a seriously pissed-off python (his business end wrapped shut with sellotape), you can retire for the night to a traditional Dai-style stilt house. Be warned that a Dai bed amounts to a mattress on the floor: it is basic, but clean and reasonably comfortable. If you feel the need for a little blood sport, take a stroll around the villages in the evening and chances are you’ll find a circle of locals huddled around a pair of fighting cocks.

Next morning, catch a ferry across the Mekong to its right bank, where a couple of hours’ exploration on foot will uncover

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a handful of Dai temples, similar in style to Thai wats. Inside some are cartoon-style murals of epic mythical stories; captions are in Dai script, but the images are graphic enough to follow. The heroes frequently get into trouble with some sadistic demon, ogre or generally bad-as-they-come bad guy, and the illustrators spare no detail in depicting the various gory tortures meted out. Having a hole drilled in your forehead as a prelude to being stuck in a thorn tree, there to be eaten alive by vultures and dogs, was my particular favourite, but there are plenty to choose from.

Back on the road, the 214 heads west and traffic-free up the steep gorge of the Liusha He, the River of Flowing Sands, to Menghai, where the asphalt runs out. Thereafter, cobblestones are the order of the day – and the next day, and the day after that. It had previously been my impression that cobbled roads were a peculiarly Belgian vice, but it appears that the Yunnanese are also under the illusion that a heap of rough, uneven, fist-sized rocks makes a pretty neat surface on which to get about.

And so I vibrated my way north, climbing from rubber tree lowlands to tea bush

highlands, sharing the road with cows, sheep and the occasional heaving, straining, rattling-itself-to-pieces Dongfeng truck, and then making my way down again to Manwan where the 214 crosses back to the east of the slow, broad and milky blue Mekong.

And then I repeated the formula: up and over and down again, perhaps three or four times more – farming villages on impossibly-carved mountain terraces at the tops, market towns holding the valleys – until by some

WISE PURCHASE: (above) Inside a Dai temple, across the Mekong

from Menghan. Like their Thai neighbours, Dai are broadly Theravada Buddhist; A Dai

woman at Wase market on Lake Erhai’s eastern shores

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miracle the asphalt returned and I glimpsed Erhai below, a jewel on the 214’s long thread, the lake on whose shores Yi Mou Sun, king of Nanzhao, established his capital in 779 AD. The Nanzhao kingdom didn’t survive the Mongol hordes, but the city was rebuilt and stands today as Dali, mountains to the west, lake to the east – you shan, you shui, a place where water and mountains meet.

Truth be told, Dali itself is not the gem it once was, as tourist hordes begin to repeat the feats of Kublai Khan’s lot. But no matter, the area has dozens of charming small towns and villages which remain remarkably quiet despite sharing Dali’s scenic blessings.

Dali is still the best place to establish your base camp for forays around Erhai. Dose up on deliciously moist banana bread at the Asia Star Hotel’s sumptuous breakfast buffet, and you’ll be well fuelled to attempt the ‘Erhai Challenge’, a beautiful, one-day, 120-kilometre round-the-lake ride. The road is flat, there’s not a cobblestone in sight and, if you offer the right sacrifices to the right gods at temples along the way, you might just get a tailwind all the way around.

Erhai is not just a velodrome, though, and most visitors will want to make a more leisurely circuit, combining walking, cycling, bussing, horsecarting and boating. Basic accommodation is available in many villages around the lake, making overnight or even multi-day expeditions a possibility.

Going clockwise from Dali, your first stop is Xizhou, with a made-for-strolling street-market lined with well-preserved Bai stone courtyard homes. Across a strip of vegetable plots, the lakeshore village of Shacun has perhaps even finer houses, and down along the jetty you will find Erhai fishermen mending nets in their green family-sized canoes. Here, as in most Erhai villages, you can bargain with the boatmen for short-haul rides; their boats are big enough to accommodate a bike or two.

At the northwestern end of the lake, Zhoucheng, Shangguan and Shaping are worth a look, but Erhai’s eastern shore is the real treat. Here a quiet road hugs the shoreline, in places cutting into the crumbling rocky hillside and looking down on fishing villages with the sparkling blue waters of Erhai beyond. When the opposite shore fades into the noonday haze and a herd of bell-tinkling goats trot past on the road, it is not difficult to imagine yourself transported to the Mediterranean. Only the olive trees are missing.

Halfway down the coast, Wase’s narrow streets bulge and heave on market day with the babble of Bai women, babies in back-slung baskets, banana bargaining and a whole alphabet of everything else besides. But come prepared to push and shove if you want to get from the agricultural implements section to the embroidered handbags. The local grannies show no mercy with their elbows and seem to expect none in return.

If you make it through the noodles and out past the root vegetables you will come to a wharf, where motorboats will chug you across the lake back to Dali; or you can keep going, passing little pebble beaches

AT EASE: (from top) A lakeside fishing village on Erhai’s eastern shore; A Dai nipper, transfixed by a foreigner in Wase market; An elderly lady who’s seen it all before; (opposite page) Edward’s trusty two-wheeled companion taking a break from the bumps

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to Haidong, set in a broad bay, and on round the southern tip to complete your Erhai circumnavigation.

But for the 214, Dali is not the end, nor is it the beginning of the end – though it might, I suppose, be the end of the beginning. From here, the real stomach churning begins, on rough roads through the chasms of the upper Yangtze and over 5,000-metre snowbound passes into the high mountains of Tibet.

Staying just another few days in Dali is beginning to seem rather attractive.

NEXT STAGEAssuming he manages to drag himself away from the banana bread, Edward will be reporting next month from somewhere very cold up on the Tibetan plateau. He’s heading for Golmud, a potash-mining town stuck out in the middle of the Qinghai wilderness, and is determined to seek out its hidden charms. Stay tuned.

Around ErhaiSimple lodging is available in most villages around the lake. On the eastern shore, a few kilometres south of Haidong, the Golden Bay Hotel (Jinhaiwan Dajiudian) has some nice lake-view rooms (+86 (0)872 247 6166)

EAT AT…In Menghan, XishuangbannaYour Dai homestay will cook up authentic Dai-style meals for you. In DaliYou’ll find interesting street snacks in the market towns and villages around Erhai. Dali itself is full of foreigner-oriented eateries. Try the Buddha’s Abode vegetarian restaurant (51 Renmin Lu; +86 (0)872 266 0032).

PLAY AT…The Asia Star Hotel rents out decent bikes that will take you around the lake and can also arrange less strenuous forms of transportation for those not inclined to pedal.

GO IN…Xishuangbanna has pleasant temperatures and dry weather from November to March. Monsoon rainfall peaks in July and August. Dali has comfortable temperatures all year round. Dai New Year and the accompanying (genuine) water-splashing festival falls this year on April 13-16.

PS…Trains, planes and most buses to ‘Dali’ will actually deposit you in Xiaguan, aka Dali City, a not-entirely-charming place 15 kilometres from where you want to be. Regular minibuses shuttle between Xiaguan and Dali Old Town (gucheng).

GO BY…To XishuangbannaShanghai Airlines flies directly between Shanghai and Jinghong, Xishuangbanna. Other flights go via Kunming. There are at least two flights per day from Kunming to Jinghong, with China Eastern, China Southern, Sichuan Airlines, and Shanghai Airlines all making the trip. To DaliSeveral flights daily connect Dali with Kunming on China Eastern and China Southern Airlines. Overnight sleeper trains cover the same route (from RMB 64/131 (hard/soft sleeper) one way). Between Dali and XishuangbannaThere are daily direct flights on this route too, but flying the 214 doesn’t count. Sleeper buses do the 214 properly (18 hours, RMB 220), or you can bike it in about 10 days – accommodation is available in villages en route.

STAY AT…In Menghan, XishuangbannaYu Le Dai Homestay ResidenceThere are dozens of these to choose from; wander and ye shall find. ‘Beds’ cost RMB 20-30 per person.(25 Manga village, Dai Garden, Menghan; +86 (0)691 250 4066)

In Dali Asia Star Hotel Your best base for the Dali/Erhai area, combining luxury with stunning views of lake and mountain, and it has a brand new spa centre opening this month.(+86 (0)872 267 9999; www.asiastarhotel.net; doubles from USD 108)

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