Standing in front of a 5 pagoda bridge in southwestern China on a rainy day.  I knew nothing of this fertile rice growing valley before biking into it.  Everyone was dressed in black and were not speaking Chinese.  The covered bridges were made without the use of screws or nails and also served as a community meeting place for the village in this rice growing region of the south. 

There were no hotels in the village so I had to sleep inside one of the towers on one of the smaller bridges.  I was offered a plate of rice as the sun went down from one of the villagers, then left alone for the evening. In the morning he returned with hot water and some weird rice wafers for breakfast.  It had not stopped raining over the night, so I pedaled off into the falling rain and within a few kilometers, these spectacular bridges disappeared.  I never saw anything like them again in the rest of China.