So, abandoning our preferred mode of transport, we flew from Lhasa to Chengdu. You fly over mountains almost all the way, but they drop off, like a wall, just before Chengdu. The flight was a little turbulent, I guess as a result of all the updrafts. On the way from the airport you're already spotting that there are pandas everywhere...

We slightly misplanned this section of the journey. In hindsight, it would have been good to spend a bit longer in Lhasa, chilling, sorting the photos, getting the laundry done, and so on. As it was, we arrived in Chengdu with all this to accomplish. And, as we'd planned a side-trip to Langzhong, we also had to obtain tickets for that.

Before we get on to the ticket debacle, I'll answer the question "why Langzhong?". Last year I saw an article on Sichuan's old towns, and was keen to incorporate at least one into our itinerary. It seemed a good idea to see more of Sichuan than just Chengdu, and Langzhong, as one of the "four greatest ancient towns in China" (sharing the distinction with Pingyao, Lijiang, and Huizhou), seemed a worthy target. It also appeared sensible to avoid the weekend. Hence the rush-rush-rush, and the division of our Chengdu stay (which I'll post about next) into an introductory day-and-evening and a follow-up three-and-a-half days.

All the travel advice we read seemed to point to the necessity of taking the bus to Langzhong, on the grounds that the nearest railway station was a long way from the city. Bus travel is a pain, as it's much harder to get bus tickets in China than train tickets. There is a site in English, which claims to allow foreigners to buy bus tickets online, but it didn't work for us. The hotel concierge could also do train tickets -- but not bus tickets.

So, for lack of any other option, we hoofed over to Bei Men bus station (our nearest) the day before departure, bought our tickets (using my carefully prepared script), and hoofed back again. We were able to buy only singles, so the script would have to be trundled out again on arriving in Langzhong.

Come the glorious day, we found our seats were in different rows. I had Mr Spready-Man next to me, and was constantly pushing back against encroachment. Nigel had Ms Curtain-Closer next to him, so saw nothing of the pretty Sichuan countryside (wooded hills, terraced fields, pleasant rivers) that we were passing through. It was also periodically hot as.

And by this time, I was also worrying about the tooth I'd broken on the peanut cookie I'd been unwise enough to tackle en route to the station...

Not so good already....

But then, when we arrived at Langzhong's bus station, we found no place to buy tickets back to Chengdu.

What to do? Roll up at the bus station, and assail every departing bus until we found one with spaces? Or find another way?

That evening, in a local bar, we did some more research, and discovered that last year a new train station had opened up, not at all far from the town (just 13 yuan by taxi, in fact). So we booked train tickets back to Chengdu, and were thoroughly sorry we'd messed about taking the bus in the first place.

It's really a case of China's infrastructure expanding faster than communications can keep up with it.

The train took 2.75 hours (as opposed to the bus's 3.5). So there wasn't much in it from the point of view of time. But the train was much more comfortable, and -- as noted -- much easier to book.



Anyway, all this mundane stuff aside, Langzhong turned out to be a really pretty and interesting place.

Its river, the Jialing, is lovely for strolling, and rainy weather turns it into a highly romantic channel of mist.











The old town offers beautiful vistas of tiled roofs (again, even prettier in the rain), as well as shops selling the city's trademark cured meats and vinegar, and a surprising abundance of reflexology parlours.

It's not all about tourists, mercifully, and many picturesque little lanes still shelter ordinary people going about their business.















At night the authorities have enthusiastically promoted illumination. The tops of the hills are lit up, as are the pagodas that surmount them. The tree trunks are wound round with strings of lights, and the branches are strewn with lanterns.









Zhang Fei is the person of note here. In the third century of the common era, he guarded the settlement, and promoted its well-being. He subsequently became an object of the townspeople's worship, and the temple dedicated to his memory is well worth a visit, not only for its historical value but also for its serenity and greenness.











Zhang Fei has given his name to a type of beer (excellent) and a type of cured beef (also pretty good, at least to judge by what we had on top of the pizza that accompanied our first night's ZF beer, and the souvenir chilli-coated version we bought at the train station).



So, we've had a very pleasant couple of days -- despite our bad planning.