Xidi (and some rain)

Leaving Huang Shan in the pouring rain, we sloshed along half flooded roads towards Xidi. Arriving in the pouring rain, the bus was quickly besieged by umbrella and poncho sellers. Kitted out in a fetching knee-length yellow polythene number, I waded into this charming Unesco heritage site. It really was quite amazing, though I had to keep reminding myself to look up from the rapidly moving four-inch-deep water that flowed down the gently sloping stone paved alleys. Away from the tourist-shops of the main road (alley), the village became even more fascinating. Open doorways offered glimpses into homes where a family dealt with baskets of corn cobs or an old man tinkered with some parts of something vaguely mechanical. On a tiny street, in which I couldn't have spread my arms full width, I noticed a rack of wooden racks - curious, I looked more closely. Fat white caterpillars crawled or at least wiggled a little. I struck up one of my better sign language conversations with the old lady inside, miming the caterpillar spinning a thread to make clothes. She nodded with a delighted smile - yes, they were silk worms. Gursh was still in sight so I called him to have a look and commissioned him to take some photos (my camera was left on the bus as it can't swim). Then we noticed that the other half of the floor was covered with silk worms on a bed of leaves, as an old man appeared through a small hole near the floor, presumably from an adjoining room. I love it when I stumble upon this sort of thing - one of the real delights of travel. We continued a silent but smiling conversation for some time, able only to utter our thanks in Mandarin, which we did many times as we left.

We carried on to Shanghai, though none of us (guide included) knew why, as it would have been closer and easier to go straight to tomorrow's destination. It was another five or six hours on the bus, but we passed a large chunk of the time playing a Chinese card game with Li as our teacher. It all got a bit complicated with four of us playing in teams of two, but only one person knowing whose team they are on. I won't even try to explain.

Arrived in Shanghai to find that my bag had spent most of the journey underwater. Not a happy camper. I spread every piece of clothing, battery chargers, shoes and books over every surface, including the floor, and surveyed the damage despondently. Began to think that what with the Bank of China swallowing my ATM card on day one, a snoring room-mate and now not a dry bra to be found, this trip was maybe not my luckiest ever. But as I flicked through the pages of my Lonely Planet with a hairdryer, I couldn't but think that these were minor irritations in the great scheme of things. And so to the roof-top terrace of the Youth Hostel down the road for a much-needed pint and a view across the river to the gleaming sky-scrapers of Shanghai.