As the weather warmed up a bit from the unusual cold of yesterday, Beth and I rented bikes from the old folks by our hotel, I scribbled out some very vague directions from a local website, and out we went into the countryside.
The area around Yangshuo is crisscrossed with narrow roads and dirt trails. Because the rice has been brought in for the season, water buffalo are given free range of the fields.
But sometimes they still have places to go.
After a month of living in cities (although the Chinese would probably call New Zealand's largest city of Auckland a village at best), it feels pretty awesome to get on the saddle again.
Even if you've never heard the name Yangshuo, you're still familiar with the landscape - these impossibly contoured mountains have been guiding the brushes of painters and poets since the invention of paper. Probably.
Beth rocks her new scarf with a decidedly Asian pose.
Although the rice paddies lay dormant, the appropriately-named mandarin oranges are coming in nicely.
These mandarin oranges are still being harvested using the traditional technique passed down through hundreds of generations of Chinese farmers - making a big pile of them on a blanket and leaving them by the shed.
A Chinese saying goes, "桂林山水甲天下, 阳朔堪称甲桂林," or, "Guilin (Yangshuo's neighboring city) has the best scenery on earth, but Yangshuo's is better."
Bamboo rafts like these are traditionally used by fishermen to get out into the middle of Yangshuo's shallow rivers. From there, they release specially-trained cormorants whose necks have been tied off, preventing them from swallowing their catch. As Yangshuo's industry has shifted from fishing and agriculture to tourism, these guys have converted their rafts to catch more lucrative game. (That's us).
Indeed, even amongst Yangshuo's majestic peaks there's progress to be made.
But we were happy just to have our picture taken.