Off The Grid, Again

Off the Grid, Again
Today I'm in Dali; another medium sized city, part smoggy industrial
center, part rural farmland, part recently manufactured tourist
attraction. The city is split into "Old" and "New" sections; the
"New" being the standard ugly offices and manufacturing centers; the
"Old" being guesthouses, handicraft shops, and elaborate gates, all
built in the traditional Chinese style sometime within the last couple
of years. The impression the "Old Dali" gives is one of manufactured
charm, which is not to say it's unpleasant. The city surrounded by
rolling hills and sits on the edge of a massive lake, which my Spanish
and Canadian companions (with whom I have remained loosely affiliated
since our meeting on the bus to Kunming) and I spent the day observing
from the seats of rented bicycles.

When we returned to town "Gabriel" and I went for a bite to eat at a
local restaurant. While we were going through the familiar but
nonetheless arduous ritual of placing our order with gestures, we
heard Mandarin being spoken and turned around to find a couple of
white girls, one of whom was, against all odds, fluent in Mandarin.
We immediately asked her for a little help, which she gave happily,
and invited them to join us for lunch. While we ate, we received a
peculiar travel suggestion, which as Mr. Vonnegut tells us, is a
dancing lesson from god. The girls (Americans who I am all but
certain are a lesbian couple) were going off the beaten track, taking
local buses then renting a van to get to the spectacular geography of
Southwest China, planning to seek shelter in some small villages and
do some trekking in places that do not appear on my Lonely Planet map.
They said we were welcome to join them and share costs. I asked them
if they were serious. They said that they were. I told them that if
they were serious, I was in. We're leaving tomorrow. Gabriel has to
ask his traveling companion, "Emilio" and get back to us. I'll be off
the grid for a week at least.