I need a ferry, sure and true

Sarah here again. Once the happiness had subsided the next morning, we set out from Sean's around 1pm, understanding that it would take us about 4 hours to get to the next town - a walk, a ferry, an overnight stay in the town of Daju and eventually a bus back to Lijiang the next day. We had to walk along the paved road, the one that is upsetting Sean so much, because it means that busloads of Chinese tourists can be brought in and out with ease (on the first year the road was paved for the May holiday there was a massive traffic jam, which forced tourists to walk their own way - gasp! - in order to see the middle gorge).


Traffic wasn't an issue today. With not a single car in sight we walked, and walked and walked, expecting to find the path down to the ferry around the next bend. Once the path started steeply upward and we'd already been walking for 3 hours (and according to all guidebooks and maps we'd picked up along the way, the ferry stopped at 5pm) we figured we must have missed the path and we decided to backtrack to a dirt road we'd seen earlier.


After walking around on the grassy bluff for 40 minutes, seeing neither hide nor hair of the ferry, we gave up and decided to walk back to a guest house we'd seen on the way. About 5 mins from the guest house (5:15pm at this time - no hope for a boat) we flagged down one of the first vehicles we'd seen all day and asked the driver if he could take us to Daju. He insisted the ferry ran till 6, so we jumped in and raced past where we'd turned back, through an abandoned village and down a bumpy road until he announced we're here. He pointed us in the direction of the ferry path down, insisted again it runs until 6 (which a passerby confirmed) and we skeptically started our descent.

It takes at least 15 mins to get down the windy path and low and behold we arrive at the ferry, both of which are on the other side of the rushing river, completely abandoned. This doesn't stop Mike from yelling across a few "OI's!", acknowledged by no one but a herd of goats way up the opposing bank. We collapse, exhausted, defeated, pissed at being deceived, and I start examining the rocky bank trying to decide which ones will be least uncomfortable to sleep on.

Out of nowhere we see two men on horseback wave to us from the other side and begin to make their way down to the boats. We can't believe it but we're already speculating on the increased price of our ferry tickets. They were wonderful though, charged us the correct price and smiled the whole way.

On the opposite bank we set out for Daju, where we knew there was a nice hostel. On the way we declined the offer to stay at "best hotel in Daju" made by the owners creepy open shirted brother, because we knew that despite their claims, we weren't in Daju itself, but in the village before it. We finally made it to the real Daju, found the hostel, enjoyed a meal and cold beer before crashing out 6 hours after leaving Seans.