After three wonderful days in Shanghai, Pat and I flew southwest to Guilin, about 950 miles away in a region bordering Vietnam.

The Guilin area is a major tourist destination because of its natural beauty. The city is surrounded by karst peaks, which resemble jagged, triangular mini-mountains. Within a few hours drive are the famous Dragon’s Backbone Rice Terraces, layered rice fields planted on steep hillsides. In photos I’ve seen, they look like stacks of curved plates. We’ll get to see them in person tomorrow.

After Pat and I checked into our hotel, our guide Johnny took us to a scenic area in the heart of the city. Along with a landscaped garden containing a sculpted plant peacock, we saw a large banyan tree decorated with colored paper lanterns, a 2,200-pound iron pot that Buddhist monks once used for cooking, and a cardboard cutout of Santa riding in a dragon boat.

We then walked through a cave under Fubo Hill, which is named for a famous Chinese general. Johnny told us that it started out as a small natural cave, but was expanded during World War II so local residents could use it as a shelter from Japanese bombs. Today, it houses a few small gift shops selling scarves, necklaces and miniature karst peaks. (While I don’t begrudge anyone making a living, it does seem that no place in China is off-limits to souvenir sales.)

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At the base of the peak is the Sword Testing Rock, a stalactite stone column that hangs just above the ground. According to legend, General Fubo cut off the bottom of the rock with his sword to impress the locals. In reality, the opening was created by erosion from the Li River that runs through town.

We started climbing up the 700-foot hill, but got caught in a downpour and stopped at the halfway point. The hazy conditions spoiled what is usually a gorgeous view, so we decided to come back later.

Our next stop was a natural health center, where we listened to a lecture on traditional Chinese medicine and received an intense foot massage. A diagram on the wall described feet as our “second heart,’’ meaning that each part of our lower extremity is connected to a vital body function. The tips of our toes, for instance, are related to our sinuses and our heels are tied to sciatica and hemorrhoids. Therefore, massaging different parts of the feet is supposed to improve specific areas of health.

Pat tried to find out which part of the foot affects common sense so that my treatment could stop me from jumping out of airplanes, bungee jumping from bridges, swinging over canyons and climbing mountains in the dark. Unfortunately, they haven’t discovered that connection yet.

The foot massage was similar to the ones I’ve gotten in Zhengzhou. First they soak your feet in a pail of scalding water. (Usually it’s so hot that I need to ask the masseuse to add some cold water.) Next comes the dry rubbing, which is done with such force that it can be painful. Finally, they smother your feet with cream for another round of massage before rinsing you with another pail of water.

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Walking on our reinvigorated feet, we strolled around a pedestrian mall near our hotel before stopping for dinner at the Left Bank restaurant. Despite the name, I couldn’t detect any French influence with the possible exception of a young female diner dressed in tights and an extremely short skirt.

However, I did get a jolt of Americana when they played “My Old Kentucky Home’’ over the sound system as I ate a plate of catfish cooked in beer. All that was missing was the post parade and a trip to the $2 window.