UPDATE: The mystery goo in the last entry has been identified. We went to a supermarket and it was right on the shelf: instant lotus-root starch, available in plain and rose flavors.

Greg and I spent most of our time over the past few days simply moving, feeding and resting ourselves: bus stations, ticket booths, misunderstandings, scams, and long, uncomfortable rides were the defining feature of Yunnan for us. This should not reflect poorly on Yunnan, as all of our hassles were of our own making. Simply by deciding to visit a less-touristed area, we sentenced ourselves to the hard labor of navigating unfamiliar systems and dealing with the consequences.

Traveling in an area where you don't speak the language is an exercise in trust, and the farther you get from the systematic workings of the city - metros with automated ticket stations, trains with timetables - the more true that becomes. You are at the mercy of your guidebook, any English-speakers that happen along, and whatever number the ticket-seller writes down. It is wonderful that almost all the time, people are patient and honest - they put up with your terrible attempts at communication with a smile and don't charge you extra for their bother. And it only takes one asshole to fill you with gratitude for those masses of goodhearted people, and truly appreciate each positive encounter.

This is not to say that transportation completely distracted us from traveling. We may not have done as much sightseeing as we could have, but we fully enjoyed getting to know both Kunming and Yuanyang. I've heard Kunming refered to as "the Seattle of China," and while we only spent one night there, the comparison seems apt. Almost everywhere we went in Kunming felt like a good place to relax with a cup of tea. And so we did. The local specialty is pu'er, a (usually) fermented broad leaf tea. I am far from a tea connoisseur, but I plunked down for a respectible cup from a nice tea shop, and found it to be pleasantly mild and earthy.

Kunming is known for "crossing-the-bridge" noodles, which we tried at a well-loved local chain called Brothers Jiang. The dish came in about 40 different plates and bowls: hot broth, meats, vegetables, egg, pickles, chili, tofu, noodles, and seasonings. I'm still not sure what everything was, but I dumped it all into my broth and it was delicious.

Chicken stews with herbs and hotpots are everywhere in Kunming, and the ones that we tried were solid but unsurprising. One regional dish with an unexpected twist is thin pieces of fried cheese, sprinkled with sugar. It wasn't bad - in fact, the cheese itself was excellent, with a strong cow's milk flavor - but I can't say I'll be trying to recreate it at home. We also tried a fried fermented tofu, which was good the same way a strong cheese is - very rich and stinky, too much so to eat an entire plate.

From Kunming we took an overnight bus to Yuanyang, a smaller city to the south. Yuanyang county is known for its beautiful rice terraces and its relatively large population of ethnic minority peoples. Unfortunately, a thick bank of fog moved in for most of our stay in Yuanyang, and we spent half our time trying to figure out how the buses to the Vietnamese border worked anyways.

Luckily, there is one thing that the language barrier has never stopped me from figuring out, and that is noodle soup and roadside stands. Pointing to order is easy when the food is being made in front of you, and there is no better way to express your thanks than to visibly enjoy the meal. Here's a stall where we had some exemplary noodle soup, full of herbs and bubbling hot: