It wasn't an accident, just a sudden recalculation of priorities. And based on everything I knew at the time, it should have worked out just fine.

En route to the bus station in Chengdu, where I intended to buy a ticket on the next bus to Emei Shan, I began to fear that the expedition could balloon way past the three days I was planning for. It might have been another six days before I left on the boat for the Three Gorges. At that pace, I might have to skip Huangshan, the Yellow Mountain, recipient of gushing reviews from other travelers and reputed to be one of the most scenic spots in China. Whereas my trusty Lonely Planet guide said that the new highway made the bus trip to Chongqing, point of depature for the Three Gorges, down to a brief two hours. The boat leaves at 6:00 pm every evening, so if I caught a bus at noon, I'd have four hours to buy my boat ticket, poke around Chongqing a bit, and hop aboard to head down the river.

The actual purchase of the bus ticket was surprisingly easy. I said, "Chongqing," and shoved some yuan towards the ticket seller. She handed me a ticket and change, no questions asked. Nor were there answers given, such as when the bus left, or where to catch it. When I mimed to the woman at the "Information" desk that I wanted to know what time the bus left, she helpfully said, "Mei you," which means "There isn't any." So I showed my ticket to a series of other people at the bus station, who gradually pointed me out the door and onto a bus, which left shortly afterwards at 12:20 upon filling up with people.

I don't know whether the Lonely Planet writer who reported the two-hour trip did the trip in an Aston-Martin or a Maserati, but they certainly didn't do it in my rumbling old bus, because that bus does the trip in six hours. My suspicions were aroused when, about an hour and a half into the journey, we passed a sign saying that Chongqing was still about 140km away. The scenery was actually quite nice as we climbed into the mountains in which Chongqing is wedged. I even saw a Chinese fighter jet circle overhead and pass less than 100 meters above the bus as it came down to land (probably ferrying Lonely Planet writers from Chengdu). But as the hours rolled by, it became clear that I would have to spend the night in Chongqing.

When it comes to hotels, Chongqing is not particularly backpacker friendly. There's one budget hostel somewhere, but I decided to splurge on the three-star Chungking Hotel. It may not be the Four Seasons, compared to the places I've been staying, it's the lap of luxury. There's a real bathroom with a real shower and toilet. (For the blissfully ignorant, a Chinese toilet essentially consists of a hole in the ground over which you squat to relieve yourself.) There's a bed with a real mattress. (The Chinese seem to think that a thin pad over brick or wood makes for an ideal bed.) After checking in and admiring the splenor in which I would pass the night, I cleaned up and headed out to check out the city.

The guide books don't do Chongqing justice. The city is splattered across the junction of the Yangzi River (known in Chinese as the Chang Jiang) and one of its tributaries, with the city center occupying the hilly penninsula between the rivers. The city has a great urban feel which reminds me of Hong Kong. The small size of the penninsula puts most of the city within easy walking distance of my hotel. There's not a lot in the way of tourist attractions here, but I think I'll enjoy a day of wandering the city tomorrow before (hopefully) leaving for the Three Gorges in the evening.

The Three Gorges trip takes about three days. After that, I've got to take four different buses to get to Huangshan, which should take two days. Hopefully, I'll find a computer somewhere along the way, but it could be a while before I get to post again. In the meantime, I'm going back to enjoy my expensive hotel bed.