Yangtze River Cruise
OU CAN’T GO TO CHINA WITHOUT SPENDING
time on its longest, most famous river. And our
upcoming China Tour (May 2016) includes a fiveday chance to do just that – with Victoria
Cruises, safe, experienced, American-managed,
the perfect choice for Mad Kiwi Midlifers. Here’s another
excerpt from John’s China travel-diary:
THE YANGTZE – ALSO CALLED CHANG JIANG
(Long River) – leaves mountains in the southwest and drifts eastward for 6000 kilometres,
before emptying out into the Yellow Sea. Untold Chinese
are born, live, work and die along its muddy banks. And
construction on the world’s largest hydro dam was
completed here in 2012, swallowing up homes and farms
and ancient sites, and requiring countless people to move
into modern towns and apartments above the new highwater mark.
The famous Three Gorges (after which the dam is
named) lure visitors from all
over. And as our cruise-ship
manoeuvred through surging
currents and swirling eddies and
narrow canyons, sheer cliffs
soaring above and the sky
almost shut out … I could easily
understand why.
We glided past a hive-ofactivity port, cranes crowding
the skyline … then a village with
a pagoda … then a rural stretch,
with lonely figures wielding
hoes, and green crops clinging
to steep slopes … then a cluster
of huts, a sampan pulled up on
the beach, a man plucking ducks
at the water’s edge, giggling kids
using a water-buffalo as a diving
-platform, and a tiny woman
pounding her laundry
against rocks.
ONE OF OUR DAILY SHORE-EXCURSIONS SAW
us bouncing up twisty mountain roads in a
minibus … clambering down 400 steps to the
gushing Shennong Stream … donning orange life-jackets …
sitting in rows aboard long wooden ‘pea-pod’ boats … and
enjoying two hours of traditional Chinese river-rafting:
sparkling rapids, deep green pools, breath-taking scenery,
plus the odd monkey in the trees, while a pretty young
Chinese girl serenaded us with a haunting melody.
When we finally climbed out to return to our
floating hotel, the stripped-down-and-barefoot oarsmen
slung ropes over their shoulders and, chanting some
ancient song, began hauling their ‘pea-pods’ back
upstream. For us, it was all-aboard our cruise-ship. The
gangplank was raised. The crew cast-off. The captain gave a
shattering blast on the ship’s foghorn. And as we pushed
out into the current, the children of the Yangtze ran along
the embankment, waving their little arms off and calling,
“Zaijian!” Goodbye …