On 17th July, my priority was to sort out my onward travel. To have any chance of going to Tibet as an independent traveller, I needed to get myself to the western city of Chengdu. The permits for Tibet are only issued there, and in person – if they are issued at all.

There was nothing to stop me trying to get to Chengdu by train or plane, by going to the train office or airline office, but everyone agreed that this was a really bad idea. You could spend hours queuing and then find that the official behind the glass window had no ability, or desire, to provide you with the ticket you needed, let alone make any allowance for language difficulties and that you had no “plan B”.

A common answer from officials in China is “méiyŏu” meaning “there isn’t any” or “I don’t have what you want” or maybe “you’re a foreigner therefore not a real human, therefore you had no reason to spend 2 hours queueing at my window in the first place”.

Fortunately, in the areas of China most frequented by independent foreign travellers, there is “Mr Fix It” who speaks English and, for a premium, takes the headache out of the “méiyŏu syndrome”. So after a late start, I went to find the Yangshuo “Mr Fix It”, who had already appeared multiple times at the eating venues, offering his services. This time I handed over some money, for him to buy me a ticket on the flight that evening from Guilin to Chengdu, along with a bus ticket to Guilin.

The day was cloudless, and I took a few typical street scenes of Yangshuo.

On the way back to the hotel I heard some loud bangs and saw a curious procession coming towards me. It became clear that it was a funeral procession. The people at the front were walking backwards towards me, with sticks that they were using to “sweep” the road.

Behind them (or ahead of them in the procession) people were throwing firecrackers to the side of the road. After the sweepers came the pall-bearers with the coffin, which was large and cheerfully decorated. It was later explained that the firecrackers were to scare the evil spirits and the sweeping was to clean the path that the deceased person was going to follow.

I caught up on some letter writing then checked out of the hotel, before a final lunch at Paris Café. A few newcomers had arrived – some Danes and Americans, and I felt like an old hand as I issued advice about what to see and do. Then at the appointed time, Mr Fix It came and gave me my plane ticket and bus ticket.

I killed some time in the park and then went to pick up my backpack from the hotel. At the bus station there was some kind of problem – something of a méiyŏu moment – that required me to a be insistent that I had a valid ticket, and that I really was going on that bus.

I was duly allowed on, and a couple of bumpy hours later reached the city of Guilin. First stop was the CAAC office (the Chinese airline office) where I was able to leave my backpack – they also spoke a bit of English and confirmed that my ticket was good.

Then I went for a stroll and got talking to some more Danes with whom I then had some food in a restaurant. They tried to overcharge us, but we politely insisted that we knew what their little game was.

Nearby was what looked at first glance like a pet shop, but turned out to be another restaurant. The caged animals were very much on the menu.

Presumably the animals were supposed to attract customers into the restaurant by saying effectively “please eat me!”.

A friendly bus took me from the CAAC office to Guilin airport. There was a lot of queueing, during which I got chatting to a couple from Brisbane. Eventually I found myself sitting in an ordinary-looking 737, which soon took off for Chengdu.

The flight itself was uneventful, and during the final approach I was congratulating myself on the fact that air travel in China is just like anywhere else. However, this happy thought lasted until exactly 2 seconds after the wheels hit the runway, at which point, with the Boeing still going at nearly 300 km/h (180 mph) and the pilot just starting to apply reverse thrust, all the passengers jumped out of their seats and started hauling their luggage out of the overhead lockers!

The bus into town didn’t leave for half an hour after I sat down in it, and by the time it reached the centre it was gone 11pm. The Brisbane couple had booked in a large “foreigner-friendly” hotel, and I figured I’d go with them. Due to the hour they had a hard job persuading the guards on the gate that they were guests with a reservation, wanting to check in. In the end the Australians were given a room with 4 beds and said I was welcome to share, so I did.

On 18th July I spent a frustrating 2 hours going round different tour agencies, being told that “no”, there was no possibility of travelling independently to Tibet after all. A couple of other travellers who I met confirmed that this is just how things are right now, and that there has been no evidence that anyone has figured out a way round it.

Back at the hotel I had a late and rather despondent breakfast with the Brisbane couple, and read my Lonely Planet book again to see what else I could do. After much deliberation I hit on the idea of going to Lanzhou in the northwestern province of Gansu. South of Lanzhou is an area that used to be Tibet before the Chinese invasion and annexation of the country, and there is still a certain amount of Tibetan culture and monasteries in the surrounding area.

I went to the CITS office (Chinese travel service for foreigners) and they were unhelpful, saying that I couldn’t get a train ticket because it was too late to get a ticket for 19th and 20th, and too early to get one for 21st. I asked about flights, and was told it was too late to get a ticket for 21st.

However, I had been told about a café called Lee’s Café, and that the owner Mr Lee is the “Mr Fix It” of Chengdu.

A visit to Mr Lee got me into better spirits. He seemed confident that he could get me a ticket for the following night’s train to Lanzhou. I paid him a deposit, stuck around having some food, and then some beers with a few European backpackers who wandered in later, before I eventually headed back to the hotel.