China 2007

We were free from the trouble of visiting three monasteries in a day, but we still had just one left. The Lin Yin Temple was "one of the most famous" in China. I wondered when they would stop saying that about everything. It was certainly one of the more scenic ones, however.

The weather was over 35 °C, and humid, so the air was filled with bugs. Over 300 Buddhist figures were carved into the rocky faces of the mountains in which the temple was nestled. We walked through a small cave, under a hill, and over a bridge under which a mellow stream passed. An elaborate pagoda served as a tomb for an early Indian monk. Our guide led us into an even more secure area, where the massive temple structures rose up, their golden roofs blinding us. The first hall was pretty standard - four gigantic protectors, a great statue behind candles, incense, and anxious pilgrims. We moved on to an even bigger one, then even bigger. The last was big enough to get lost in. It was a giant maze, shaped in a clockwise-pointing swastika. Thousands of statues lined the path, all commemorating actual disciples of the past. The faces, size and all were supposed to be correct.

Our guide explained the meaning of one of the statues on the face of the mountain: a big Buddha with a big belly. The big belly means he has laughed a lot in life, a good thing.

We climbed to an even bigger hall, where only a few unimposing statues lined the walls. In the center, a 13-meter high solid gold Buddha sat - the largest sitting Buddha in China. I can't believe they have records for that kind of thing.

We had half an hour to explore, and Mrs. James pointed out several footpaths scaling the mountain we had passed earlier. I went alone, passing a few local tourists, as the steps went up and up across the mountain. It seemed like it never ended, but after twenty minutes I reached a viewpoint where I could see the city of buildings that was the temple below.

Mosquitoes swarmed my body dripping with sweat; I had to close my eyes and cover my nose and mouth to save myself from being eaten alive. So I ran down as fast as I could to the bus.

After lunch we headed off to a tea plantation. We got out in the sweltering sun, among row after row of tea bush. Our guide picked the smallest and most narrow leaves, telling us that these young, tender things would be the most valuable. Tea bushes could be harvested about 30 times a season, and they will last for 25 years. Once that time is up, they can be revived two more times before replanting is needed. Considering each pinch of tea can make several cups, that's a lot of tea.

We observed the process of drying the tea leaves, in which a man swirls tea leaves around in a deep, heated bowl.

We were taken next to a frigid room where the master tea packer of the plantation, a lady, distributed samples of the finest kind of tea available - the early spring harvest. It had a nickname: emporer's tea, because in ancient times the commoners were not allowed such fine quality. Also, this kind of tea is never exported out of China.

We continued through the complex after a relaxing teatime, and encountered many more tea products. The biggest hit for our group was tea candy - it tasted like a Butterfinger, slightly more grainy, and perfectly healthy aside from some honey to sweeten the small bar. We wound our way through the huge store, seemingly bigger than the fields of tea outside. A mob of tourists, we had no choice but to follow the winding path and ocassionally pick up a tasting sample.

On the bus to our West Lake cruise, Joy told us of the moon festival celebrated in Hanzhou. It was said that thirty-three moons could be visible: 5 from each pagoda, of which there are three, 15 more from their reflections, one real moon and its reflection, and "one in your heart".

The boat cruise was calm and cool, a break from the outside humidity and hassle. We drifted past the three pagodas, around the tiny island in the middle, and got a good glimpse of the city's skyline.

Although the sun was getting lower in the sky, our day wasn't hardly over. Our next stop was a beautiful tea museum. Every imaginable piece of knowledge about tea was contained in two small floors, with just a few artifacts and displays scattered around. The grounds were far more extensive than the building, however, and almost gave Hanzhou its name as "paradise on Earth".

Our last stop with the group, our final group activity in mainland China, was a pagoda that I didn't choose to climb. Harmony tower, with an original purpose to "control the tides of the river" and prevent floods (don't ask me how, something to do with pleasing the gods, though, probably), was 13 stories high on the outside and six or seven on the inside. I didn't choose to climb it, however; I was thoroughly baked and absolutely drenched in sweat - by just standing there.

After a few hours of recooperation at the hotel, we set off to our final group dinner on the mainland. Hong Kong is a Special Administrative Region, but everybody treats it as an international flight. After dinner a few of the group found themselves at the waterfront watching a "musical water show". I had 17 yuan with me, and a Dairy Queen Oreo Vanilla Blizzard cost 15 - so I set off to find the DQ. After walking the wrong way for an hour, I realized my mistake and turned around. Not having enough money to take a taxi, I walked for another hour and five minutes more, to the Dairy Queen I was so familiar with. I knew how to get back to the hotel from there, so I returned to suck up all the extra sleep I could get. Tomorrow we would fly to the big city, civilization - Hong Kong.