Shimenxian: Chinese Adventure Tourism
Liuzhou is home to an aunt of Jia’s, who took care of her for a few years when she was small and her parents were starting a life in America. We’re staying in that same apartment, an eighth floor walkup above a kindergarten. It’s Monday, so the cousins are at work we get to spend the day with Jia’s aunt. She has decided to take us for an adventure.
A friend? Cousin? Picks us up and we drive for a couple of hours toward the mountains. Most of the drive is very rural: rice paddies are being tilled by musk ox and hand plows. Some areas are smoky from slash and burn fires. Piles of sugar cane lay bundled between small banana plantations and the road.
Eventually, we pull off the mountain road and into a parking lot. It’s an official tourist area, AAAA rated! There’s a huge gate-building for ticket sales.
It’s a Monday in the off-season, so although the tourist area is fully staffed, we are the only tourists here.
Back when we were planning this trip, I was looking at different activities we might try, and stumbled across this “skywalk” phenomenon. A video that went around the internet a while ago showed a big glass promontory off of a cliff, and various Chinese tourists succumbing to deep, primal fear, crawling, clutching at rails, suspended above the ravine.
Well, that’s where we are! There’s a glass suspension bridge that leads to a skinny glass walkway (don’t worry, there are rails!) along a cliff and above a several-hundred-meter drop.
Jia wasn’t into the idea when I floated it a few weeks ago, but she’s not protesting now. You walk up past a carved wooden rest pavilion and onto a platform, and five or six workers stop you and pass you little blue shoe covers– the view would be a lot less impressive if the glass got scratched up.
It feels very touristy. But it is fun to defy instinct and look straight down at river, sharp rocks, the opening of a cave. Jia and I cross. Jia’s aunt and friend take some pictures sitting at the beginning of the bridge, but then Jia’s aunt decides she’s not into it and turns around. She’s going to take the long way, down into the valley and back up to meet us at the other end.
The friend sticks with it, torn between nerves and the desire to document the experience. It is really cool! The view down to the lush valley is stunning from every angle. The walkway clings to the cliff face, leading us to a hole in the mountain– according to a sign, the only entrance between this side and that, and important to a war long ago.
As we approach the end of the sky walk, recordings of chants flow over the air from a Buddhist temple, nestled below the arch.
There’s a loud “crack!” sound, suddenly where Jia is walking in front of me. LED spiderwebs of cracks appear on the glass around her feet. There are pressure sensors and little speakers– cheesy but a nice touch as we reach the end. We take a rest and wait for our group to re-cohere.
Now I’m sitting with Jia at a little table on what the sign says is a holy mirror. It’s a mirrored platform with a big moon sculpture that overlooks the valley on the far side of the mountain. It’s a peaceful overlook of jutting white hills and flat cropland in the valley basin.
Jia’s aunt arrives, flushed from the many stairs. up the valley. I turn to see her and catch her friend taking selfies with a leg up in the moon sculpture. She chats amiably with the dozen-ish vendors who are clustered here; they all have opinions to share about her climb.
At the mouth of the cave, above the Buddhist temple, there’s a cluster of vendors selling adventure experiences, with a video soundtracked “Friday night, turn the radio on…” They really want us to try it– a suspension bridge, hand-over-hand along cables on the cliff wall. My trail-running shoes are used as proof that I’m the right person to love it. But we’re going climbing later this trip; we’re already set to spend more exciting times on cliffs.
Down at the Buddhist temple, red candles are burning on the altar. I order a bubble tea at the vendor stand there before we continue down along the prescribed path.
Next stop: paddle boating on a river through a cave.Jia’s aunt is already haggling with the boat guy, and pretty soon Jia and I are at the pedals, heading into the cave’s dark mouth. It’s a cathedral of a cave, down to the multistory steeple shape. Bats squeak above, though I can’t see them. Out the other side, a kid goat bleats from the hillside.
We reach a rope across the river, then paddle back. There’s just one more stop on this compressed-adventure loop, and it’s another spectacular river cave.
The cave is completely illuminated with rainbow lights. I’ve seen pictures of this, but never seen it myself. I’m not sure how I feel– it’s so hue-saturated, it feels fake. But the cave itself, the bulging stalactites, the reflections on the river– it’s real! And because of the lights, you can see it all. We walk the railed cement path through the tunnel of stone, emerging where a waterfall flows in through the cave’s mouth. Stone tables and stools are set here, just inside the cave’s mouth, ready for a game of highly aesthetic chess.
Emerging from the tourist site, we’re funneled through a rest pavilion lined with printed pictures– they took our photos on the Skywalk, and you can buy a print of yourself, roller coaster style. We decline and head out to find lunch.
