It was still raining the next morning, so while meeting over pancakes at the Teddy Bear Cafe we decided to go with Plan B. The helpful Mr. Zhang (it is actually mentioned in LP that if you go to the Teddy Bear Cafe you can bump into Zhang Guangyui, a local English teacher) had organised taxies for us, so we had one more crazy drive up to Wannian Busstation driving through a lush green landscape that was almost a bit "rainforesty". From the busstation we took the cable car to the top, and from there we went on the short walk to the Wannian Monastery. 

At Emeishan little of the original temple-work is left. The original temple structures date back as far as the advent of Buddhism itself in China. By the 14th century, the estimated 100 holy structures were home to several thousand monks. At present there are 20 active temples, following a Cultural Revolution hiatus, and they bear only traces of their original splendour. The Wannian Monastery is the oldest surviving Emei Monastery, it was reconstructed in the 9th century. It is a large and beautiful temple area in the middle of this steep, beautiful forest mountain landscape. The monastery is dedicated to Bodhisattva Puxian, the protector of the mountain. One building was dedicated to him, a domed brick building painted in a light colour and decorated a bit like Tibetan or Nepalese temples (on the roof they actually had what looked like statues of two reindeers). Inside was a huge copper and bronze elephant (62000kg!), with a large gold lotus on its back. Inside this lotus was the great protector with a gold crown on his head. The room itself was white, with small Buddha statues on the wall in niches. I touched the elephant on a place smooth and shiny from the touch of thousands of hands. This was supposed to bring good luck. Maybe we will see some sunshine tomorrow?

After a while we walked on. First for about an hour before we reached Qyinguin Pavilion, we didn’t stop there because we will be coming back the same way tomorrow (besides the stair was very steep….). So we kept on walking to Hon Chun Ping Monastery where we would stay for the night. It was a tiring walk, but not as bad as I had been afraid of. Only the last half hour was a really steep walk, on the last stairs going up to the temple. Fortunately the heavy rain stopped, at the end we even had an almost clear sky. I was soaking wet, partly from rain, partly from sweat and partly from clamminess from my rain poncho and the humid climate.

On our way we met a lot of old and young Chinese. The younger ones were typical tourists. Most of them seemed to be visiting the lower temples, and feed the monkeys in the valley. Some didn’t even walk for themselves, but was carried by two men in the palanquins one could rent. There were however also a lot of old people, and they were pilgrims. They made their way up to the temples in their Mao-suits, canes in their hands, some had heavy burdens. Wrinkled faces and long grey braids. Many of them looked fragile, but they are obviously very though.

Regularly one would come to a ledge where they would sell water etc. On one of this places where some of us took a rest together with Mr. Zhang, he translated for us so we could have a sort of a conversation with the old lady working there. She told us that she was 76 years old and lived up there about 200 days a year. This to make her life easier, she would have very little money if she only stayed down in her house in the valley. So she was working there, this sweet little lady in her Mao-suit, wrinkled face and smiling mouth, living in a little shed at the ledge and carrying all her own goods up there.

When we got to the monastery (at 1120 metres) we were shown to our rooms. I had been looking forward to a romantic four-poster bed with a mosquito net around it, but they were ”sold out” on those when I got there (I didn’t exactly drag myself to the top of that mountain as the first person). So I shared a simpler room with Kath. This is an old wooden building, the floor in our room is slanting (red wooden floor, beige walls, windows with cracks and covered with a green sheet, pink duvets, washbowl). There are communal showers (I didn’t shower,  I couldn’t bear to be stared at by those pilgrim ladies as some of the others had been) and communal toilets. The toilets are awful, but at least they have windows with a great view… We have the luxury rooms, the Chinese sleep in dormitories. 

Then there was nothing to do for the rest of the day except relaxing. Mr. Zhang gave a demonstration of Tai Chi, and also a lesson. Other than that the group played cards, red etc. I couldn’t seem to get warm. We had a kind of an external hallway outside of our rooms, where we could sit and enjoy the view over the green mountains, mystical in the mist.

At 6 p.m. we went to dinner. There are two places to eat just a few steps down the mountain. The first one is called Seven-Eleven, and we will be having breakfast there tomorrow. At the other restaurant we had a very nice banquet style dinner. We could see the kitchen, and the food being made. Chickens were running between our feet. The view was fabulous, I was looking straight at it from where I was sitting on a red painted wooden bench at the long table we had put together. When there was no more beer the wife went on cooking while the husband took a basket on his back and ran down the stairs to get some more, god only knows from where.