The bus journey to Wuzhou was definitely an adventure, filled with interest but certainly not luxurious. Like most bus travel in China at that time, it was multi-purpose — passengers inside with freight, sometimes live ducks sitting on the roof. We departed from Yangshuo at 7 am, just as the sun started penetrating the mist enshrouding the town’s symbolic hills. Trundling across the Li River bridge and passing Fuli, the bus started heading south. Farmers, waving for it to stop, boarded with sacks of grain or baskets of chickens suspended from bamboo poles.

I watched with fascination as we passed countless villages, whose names I would never know. People sat outside small shops as large pigs were guided from their sties to wallow in mud holes. Bicycles were commonly used to transport goods to and from the roadside bus stops. Women washed clothes at wells or sat on stools as they sorted through piles of onions. Boys gathered around outdoor pool tables. Road construction was starting to open up the area — older roads were inadequate for the many conflicting users, including cows, wandering about. Modern-day maps show expressways now following the route.