Three young men, a fake map, and no language skills whatsoever £­ what could possibly go wrong?

   So Frank asked me to meet him at the L'Amour café in Dongshankou.  He was waiting and visibly excited when I arrived.  "How was the traffic?" he asked anxiously. I could see that Frank had a rolled-up yellow piece of paper in his hand.  He asked me if I knew what it was and then unraveled the knot and laid the paper out on the table.  My eyes widened when I realized what Frank had just set before me.  "Is this the map to...?"  Frank nodded before I could even finish my sentence. 
   He had in his possession an ¡®authentic' map outlining, in great detail, the whereabouts of the ancient lost city of Yangshuo, previously thought to have been ransacked and razed in some religious attack many centuries ago. I sat back and sipped my campari, adding: "You understand we're going to need a third man for this?"  Frank smiled and carefully rolled-up the map again. Yes, we were going to Yangshuo. 
   The third man, my brother Jack, arrived the night before on the redeye from North America.  We hugged at the airport and were back at my apartment, cracking jokes with one another all night.  The next morning we would be leaving for Yangshuo in Frank's old Ford sedan. Entering the countryside with only an old map and an unsafe sense of adventure, we soon found ourselves in unfamiliar territory, meeting intriguing people and experiencing some delightful situations around every turn and bend.  
   Two hours into the long journey, Jack petitioned that we stop to purchase some Oriental green tea he had been reading about but then, upon parking our Ford, we were accosted by a local woman selling oranges and speaking with a unique and rare Putong dialect.  Rather than try in vain to communicate with her, we decided it would be best if we carried on in search for our lost city without lunch. 
   The landscape soon became dry and barren, with golden rice fields spaced out among the towering limestone cliffs. We wove our way through village after village, and were greeted there with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.  After all, the map read thus:
    "Upon reaching the outskirts of the city, the traveler shalt meet a wise olde man who shalt ask him a question to test his merit. If he doth pass, he shalt be granted access therein to the lost city." 
   It wasn't long before we came across a strange contraption impeding our path.  We halted before a long bamboo pole and, to our right, saw a man sitting in a hut in the middle of the road.  The prophecy of the map had come true! We waited in hushed suspense for the man to ask his question - it came with an air of mystery and enchantment: "Qiao fei wu quai, xie xie."  
   Naturally, we had no method at all of deciphering this old 'ancient' code, so Frank offered the gatekeeper his watch in the hope it would suffice. Sure enough, our gift worked and the gates receded to thunderous applause.  We had gained access to a place few dared to dream of. We had finally reached the lost city of Yangshuo. 
   Ah, but then came the sudden dawn of reality. With our harrowing journey now complete, we quickly sensed that this was not a setting for one of Kipling's novels or the latest Indiana Jones movie. It was, in fact, a fully functioning tourist town heavily frequented by travelers looking for an escape and a touch of fun.
   Our dream was over . . .
   What we didn't count on, however, was the drastic drop in temperature at sundown.  This didn't dampen our thirst for excitement, mind. We decided to start our first night with a sumptuous dinner of beer fish and fresh peas.  After dinner we headed out over to Bar 98, a local "Yangers" hangout where we could mix and mingle with some real Yangshuo people.  Another great advantage to Bar 98 is the two large wood fireplaces keeping patrons warm into the night.  Whether you're in Guangzhou or Guangxi, no night out would be complete without a trip to a makeshift BBQ, and Yangshuo certainly has no shortage of these. 
   As you can tell, we planned this trip on the spur of the moment and did not book ahead for a room, yet we found a pleasant traditional guesthouse (Guang Yue Hotel, 70-80RMB per night in low season) just off West Street, away from the noise.  There's nothing mystic and enchanting about Yangshuo, which is just eight hours from Guangzhou, but it does offer a wonderful change of pace and a chance to make your own adventure within a very different set of circumstances.  After all, as an expat living in China, everyday becomes a different kind of adventure . . .

How to get there:
You don't need an ancient map. By road, take the Guang Chao Highway to Chao Qing, then Wu Zhou-He Zhou-Pin Le-Li Pu-Yangshuo-Guilin (650kms all told). The bridge toll is 386RMB return.
  
Where to stay:
Guang Yue Hotel 7, Xianqian St, Yangshuo, Guilin (0773-881 3365), 70RMB per night. The hotel has traditional Chinese decor with dark wood furnishings throughout. The staff is non-English speaking but very friendly. The rooms are spacious, with hot showers.