Getting Warmer...

So, our visit to Kunming has been short and sweet. Yesterday the beautiful sunshine brought the teeniest bit of warmth, which added to the general relaxed aura of the city. Not much to report from the city really; we settled into the vibe and just took it easy, with a cheeky bit of Christmas shopping.
   A few odd sights dotted around the pedestrian shopping area...a line of Chinese people in doctor-esque white coats lining the pavements, giving not-so-relaxing massages to tired shoppers. We saw one man literally hoisted off his feet, back-to-back with the 'doctor' and yelping a little in relief/pain/who knows. Another sight was one that will stay with me a little longer...a peacefully sleeping little boy laid out on a fold out bed beside the pavement, tubes coming out from his stomach into a clear bag. His mother was sitting besides him, looking worried sick, with a hat for shopper contributions in front of them. Now, we're used to beggars regularly coming up to us, but this was something else altogether...I won't forget that in a hurry.
   So, tomorrow morning we leave for Jinhong on a 10 hour bus ride (short by our standards!), the capital of the Xishuangbanna region. Before I sign off, just wanted to post an article I discovered today that is brilliantly written and has pretty much read my thoughts...Pico Iyer's 'Why We Travel'. The part about how big American chains can seem unfamiliar and exotic is particularly relevant for China; every city has dozens of KFCs and McDonalds, but they still have a distinct Chinese flavour that is alien to me. I'll end on a quotation from the article by a Spanish philosopher called Santayana that encompassed why Patrick and I travel: “There is wisdom in turning as often as possible from the familiar to the unfamiliar; it keeps the mind nimble; it kills prejudice, and it fosters humor.”

The Most Fiery Food Yet, And A Ride We Won't Forget...

Well, the last few days in Chengdu and Chongquing have certainly awakened our senses! Our tastebuds tingled after the fiery 'hotpots', our hearts raced wearing our heavy backpacks on the back of motorbikes...
   But before I delve into that, let me talk about our visit to see one of China's greatest treasures- the PANDA BEAR (for some reason, we keep saying this in an American Deep South drawl). For once, we chose not to brave the Chinese public transport and instead took a hostel tour of Chengdu Panda Breeding Base. This turned out to be a great decision, as our driver got there early, and seemed to know all the best panda spotting places. The first hour was the best- it seemed like we were the only ones in the whole park. Pandas really are adorable- they potter out in their peculiar way, like both of their back legs are broken, then slump down on their backs, grab the nearest bamboo stem (or just steal their friend's), and chow down for hours. They seem completely oblivious to our gawping stares and incessant picture-taking. As Patrick pointed out, their laid-back postures are so akin to a human guy lounging on a sofa that it's hard to believe that they're not just men in bear suits! We've probably just fallen for another big-scale scam- we're pretty good at that, after all...(I'm only joking, those pandas are very real...I think...)

   Anyway, we also had the privilege to see some red pandas (the love child of a raccoon and a fox), and some bubba pandas, 5 months old, all laid on their backs in a square yellow cot like human babies (I'm not continuing with my theme, I'm sure they're not real babies...). From an educational film, we learned extensively (ahem) about panda breeding processes, including a 'massage and electrical stimulation method' to extract semen, and that mama panda bears tend to slap their baby around the floor as soon as they've given birth, as though suspicious of this pink thing that's one thousandth of the mama's size, and screaming like a banshee!
    Pandas were the main draw to Chengdu, but it would be rude not to try the local fiery Sichuan cuisine. To spice up our lives, we headed to a restaurant that specialized in 'hotpots'. Probably our favourite Chinese dish to date, the hotpot, or 'huoguo', is a VERY spicy broth, dotted with chillies and mouth-numbing (literally) peppercorns that acts as a king of meat-and-veg fondue. There's a possibility of a 'yuanyang' version, a milder broth alongside the spicy one, that the non-English speaking staff assumed our lame Western taste-buds would need. Little did they know that they were dealing with Patrick Martz, King of the Spice (but they did anticipate Jenny Smith, Queen of the Mild). Anyway, we were shown to the kitchen to choose our meat and veg (because we couldn't read the Chinese menu) and took it back to out hotpot, already bubbling away atop an alight stove set into the table. Predictably, I let my veg soak in the mild broth first, before precariously dipping it in the spicy hotpot and quickly placing it in the 'cooling' peanut, soy and garlic sauce bowl in front of us. However, proud that I could handle this much spice well, I turned cocky and took a veg directly from the spicy side, straight into my mouth...I was fine at first, then of course you always are. The closest thing I can liken it to is a tiny, manageable fire suddenly being doused with gasoline. My throat felt like it was closing, I was motioning for Patrick to do the Heimlich maneuver (which thankfully he didn't; we were already a laughing stock...) My flapping motions even alarmed a poor Chinese man outside. Eventually I calmed down, took a piece of veg from the mild side, dipped it quickly into the spice, and vowed to leave the hardcore stuff to the King of Spice.
   We put ourselves through that ordeal (of the very tasty kind) a further two times, once more in Chengdu and another in Chongquing. The latter was particularly memorable for the intimate, 'local restaurant' feel: the sweet restaurant owner who accidentally took pictures of her face instead of us, the fish's head that kept bobbing ominously in the broth as though conveying a sinister omen, the suspicious meat that may, or may not, have been spiced snail.
   Speaking of suspicious meat, I have to mention out discovery along a diverted path, as we got lost in Chengdu in post-hotpot delirium. We found ourselves walking through a random market when, opposite the pick-n-mix sweet stall, was a stall with pig's faces- and snouts- hanging from the metal beams. A little disquieting, I have to admit- I'm still in the semi-vegetarian camp where I find it difficult to eat a meat when I see its head!

   Unfortunately, we didn't leave with the best impression of Chongquing, but the sweet hostel girls contributed to us having one of the most thrilling rides of our lives! 'Tina's Hostel' was a bit iffy at first: difficult to find, down a back alley, writing on the walls (to which I added various unfunny limericks), but those girls really helped us when we needed it. Needing to get to the train station, we'd tried to hail a taxi from the busy road outside- very difficult when its rush hour and you're non-Chinese, as we quickly discovered when a racist bigot of a driver refused to take us. Getting desperate for time, we ran back to the hostel and asked if they'd help us. Bless them, the girls jumped up, ran outside, and separated down the road to help find us a taxi. But there was just nothing; I couldn't help feeling how hopeless this was. Then, the girl that stood with us suddenly said 'If there's no taxi, it will have to be motorbikes'. 'Ummm...' I stuttered, but before I had a chance to comprehend what she'd said, the other girl came running down the road, with two motorcyclists pulling up beside us. 'Two bikes for you!' she said triumphantly, and before we could question or thank the girls, we were being hurried onto the back of each bike- with our 15kg bags and small bags in tow- and were VROOMING down the highway.
    I've never felt such a whirlwind of fear and excitement as I did on that 10 minute ride to the train station. Fear that Patrick would crash, fear that I would crash, fear that my small bag, swinging from my elbow, would fling onto the highway, fear my heavy backpack would fling ME onto the highway, hope that we were actually going to the train station, and not being kidnapped...but most of all, EXHILARATION, with the wind blowing in my face and the lights of the Chongquing night skyline racing past me. At one point, my motorbike was level with Patrick; I shared a crazed smile with him, one cheek stuck to my driver's helmet, before my driver zoomed off again. He told me later at the station, when we incredulously reflected about how the hell we'd just got there, that the smile I'd given had conveyed all those emotions I'd felt...and more...Taxi service with a difference, eh? Can't see that taking off as a form of public transport in either of our home countries!
     So, from the length of this blog post, you can probably tell that we're on another epic train ride- 25 hours- this time to Kunming in the Yunnan province. Highs and lows of the journey so far: Pat deciding that he will 'never poop again' after a lady guard interrupted him by barging into the toilet- twice- when the train was stopping (maybe TMI?....) Also, meeting a very sweet Chinese guy in the dining cart who was very enthusiastic about learning English; after excitedly looking through my Lonely Planet guide, he asked his English-speaking friend what 'deep-vein-thrombosis' was, and was eying up the very useful phrase 'Can I breastfeed here?'. 

   So, see you in Kunming- hopefully in the WARMTH! Bye bye, coat- see you in Vancouver next March!

Farmers Find an Ancient Terracotta Army...We Find a New Kind of Soup...

We arrived into Xian at the painfully early hour of 5am. And what better place to go at a time when you’re confused and exhausted from the loudest snorer ever? McDonalds, of course. No Bacon and Egg McMuffins here though, to my grouchy disappointment- only noodles and meat plates! Serves me right really for craving greasy Western food in China, but my hot milk was nowhere near as satisfying as a strawberry milkshake would’ve been!

    Anyway, we walked around in a daze for a while until we found our hostel- the first place we’ve been to in a long time that resembles the Australian type of hostel. Free welcome coffee, free beer, English menu, with Chinese dishes in the International section (what country were we in again?). The funny thing is, it was nice that everything was easier than it has been…but where was the challenge? Like the sick individuals we are, we prefer it when everything isn’t in English, and everything isn’t so catered to making us feel at home.

     Sorry about that, that’s my very minor moans out of the way…now onto the main Xian event….the  Army of Terracotta Warriors! A little bit of context about this amazing archeological discovery. In 1974, some local peasants were drilling for a well, when they came across some curious pottery remains. These turned out to be one of the most important finds of modern times: the remnants of terracotta soldiers that Qin Shi Huang, China’s first emperor, ordered to be built to protect his tomb.

    Our transportation there was a LOT more straightforward than it was to the Great Wall- just one public bus. Although we did have a similar situation where a Chinese guy picked us out of the crowd and seemed to know exactly where we wanted to go, and we did react with equal skepticism….

    So, we started with the smallest Pit and the last to be discovered, Pit 3. Due to the large number of high ranking officials, it is thought that here this site was the ‘headquarters’ of the Terracotta Army. Here, you could appreciate for the first time one of the most astounding aspects of these warriors: every single one is unique, from the expression on their face to their uniform’s detail. Pit 2, the next biggest and the ‘protection army’ for the Terracotta cavalry in Pit 1, was interesting for a different reason. Much of it has yet to be excavated, and is still covered over. They’ve x-rayed under the roofs though, and they estimate that around 1,000 cavalrymen and chariots are waiting to be found under there. They have managed to excavate 5 terracotta figures though, and these are available to be examined up close in glass boxes. To see them that closely was really extraordinary; the level of detail was mind-blowing. After over-hearing a tour guide, I learned that you could tell both what part of China, and what rank the soldiers were, just from the shape of their chin and their height. One soldier had a sloping chin and was medium-height, so was a middle-ranking officer from South China. Another was very tall, and had a square chin, so was a high-ranking general from North China. And to think there are 1,000 of these individual figures, horses too, just waiting to be found!

     However, it was Pit 1 that truly blew you away. As you walk in the doors, 2,000 solders stare back at you, almost sinister in their vast numbers. Their faces are so lifelike, it’s like they were real people turned into stone (morbid, supernatural thought:  maybe they were?... ) Behind them lay the remnants of soldiers and chariots newly discovered, yet to be mended. A cavalryman’s head here, a horse’s torso there..it was a war zone out there.... And then, walking a little further, the most fascinating part of all: you got to glimpse archeologists excavating and mending right in front of you! We saw one solider almost completely pieced together as we wandered past- all that was missing was the head. A stark reminder that this is a fairly recent archeological find, and that there’s still a lot of work to be done...also of the intricate and seemingly impossible work they've done in the last 36 years! Well worth the visit, and I even managed to resist the temptation of the obligatory photo opportunity of 'becoming' a Terracotta Warrior with your head poking out above the armour like those sea-side cardboard cut-outs) on the way out. I would have made such a good soldier as well, if Patrick hadn't dragged me past it...It was OK though, the cookies from the nearby Subway made me feel much better...

    Before I conclude and move on to our next destination, Chengdu, I have to mention our visit to Xian's oldest restaurant, where we went especially to try the city's culinary specialty, the 'yangrou paomo'. Our waitress was on the verge of tyrannical, telling us exactly what we were ordering. When she said 'tea?', we said, 'no, beer please...', then she pretty much forced us to order teas anyway! It's quite the process...first, you're given two round bread-cakes that you break into tiny pieces into a bowl (I was told off by the waitress because my broken-off pieces were too big). Then, your hard work is taken away, and a thick beef and mutton noodle broth is added to it, with pickled garlic cloves and coriander (cilantro) on a side plate. The result was delicious...even if there was more bread than broth! We constantly amazed at how quickly Chinese people can eat...we were still struggling half way with ours when the tables that had received their broth at the same time had finished, paid-up and left! 

    Now we're in Chengdu, after another overnight train (only a medium-volume snorer this time, I'm happy to report!). Patrick's excited about the province's specialty, the exceedingly spicy hotpot; poor boy has been suffering from China’s lack of spice. Only here for one night, then on to Chonquing for more hotpot fun!

You Wouldn't Pay 800 Yuan for All The Tea in China...

...or apparently you would! Before I delve into the more exciting parts of Beijing- the DELICIOUS Peking duck, the majestic Forbidden City, the mystical Great Wall- I must, with a heavy heart, admit to you all a moment when we were both buffoons.
   It all began when we were in Tian'namen Square, one of the world's largest city squares. Mistake #1: we stopped to look at a map. Mistake #2: we let ourselves be dragged into a conversation by three girls, all Chinese 'English' students. They seemed very sweet, so when they asked if we wanted to go for a coffee, I thought 'why not?'. Mistake #3: we let them decide where we were going for coffee. They took us to a cute, authentic-looking little tea-house, and then into a box-like room with no windows, and tea laid out on a table. The tea ceremony then began; we tried six different tea types in thimble-sized cups, before enjoying a small (emphasis on the 'small') pot of our favourite at the end. I actually really enjoyed the whole experience; it was interesting to learn about the different teas, and additionally to chat to the three girls and learn more about how strictly the Chinese 'one-child' policy is enforced. When I tried to take photos, we were told we were not allowed; the tea-house owner was a Buddhist who believed photos brought bad spirits. Warning bells should've started ringing at this point...and then the bill came. So, the grand total for our share was...800 Yuan! That's right, 800 Yuan! £80, or $130 CAD! For ONE POT OF TEA! I thought this was an obscene amount at the time, but for fear of offending, I stupidly did not dispute it and paid up without questioning. As soon as we'd left the girls, we realized that we'd been well and truly SCAMMED! When we looked it up on the internet the next day and read very similar stories from many other travelers, we realized that it happened pretty regularly around these parts- and that there was a chance we could get our money back. Feeling that lethal combination of humiliation and anger, we stomped back to the tea-house the next day to DEMAND a refund! 'We know this is a scam', we said, 'give us our money or we'll go to the police!' Trouble was, finding a police officer that spoke English was going to be tricky. In the end, we went back and demanded 500 Yuan, which the tea-house staff humbly gave us. They kept trying to give me less, citing 'poor profit, poor profit'...yeah RIGHT you get a poor profit! You still got £30 from me for one pot of tea! It's OK, we're at the stage when we can joke about it now...just...hence the title of the blog...

Girls that scammed us.

Tea shop that scammed us.

   ANYWAY! That's the bad part over with...now I can tell you about the fun parts of Beijing! First off: the Forbidden City. We went there straight after our tea-house refund, feeling giddy with relief and jubilation, and to top-it-all-off, it was beautifully sunny! Once we'd managed to resist the many panda-hat vendors, we wandered through the monumental gate (sandwiched between two Chinese tour groups in fetching colourful caps, and the odd panda-hat), and were greeted by the impressive Hall of Supreme Harmony,  sparkling in front of us. For some reason, I was expecting humble, crumbling alleyways and a sense of grandeur lost, but as we walked across the vast courtyards, and peered into the former living quarters of past Chinese emperors, the city still felt very much vibrant and alive. We chose to visit at sunset too, with the silhouettes of the characteristic Chinese roofs making me feel like I was truly in the presence of a history and majesty greater than my humble self.

    Now to one of my personal highlights- the PEKING DUCK! Beijing is famous for its cuisine, especially its duck pancakes, and when I heard that Patrick had never tried these amazing treats, I had to rectify the situation immediately! We went to a unintentionally plush restaurant, where the chef actually rolls the duck (on a rolling table, not on the floor! Don't want a duck with carpet hairs!) to your table and carves it in front of you. First, you try a bit (with sugar, surprisingly!), then you tuck in until you finish every last piece!
   After this incredible meal, we decided to walk down the famous Wangfunjing Snack Street just down the road- and you probably couldn't get a more contrasting experience! The delicacies ranged from tiny wriggling scorpions and starfish on kebab sticks, to huge steaming pots of delicious-looking dim sum. It was a feast for the eyes as well as potentially for the stomach, with zealous vendors vying for your attention ('scorpion?' 'squid?') and fairy lights strewn over the narrow alleyway. I know what you want to know, and no, we didn't try scorpion- we would've, it's just that we were too full of duck. Maybe next time?

   Quick note about the dumplings I tried here, too- the BEST dumplings I've ever had! You can't really go wrong with fillings of roast duck and lamb-and-onion; seeing the dumplings being made in the tiny, see-through kitchen, and not being able to understand a word of the Mandarin-only menu just added to the experience!
   After spending five days in Beijing and not having seen the Great Wall yet, we decided it was about bloody time to see one of the seven wonders of the world, seeing as it was only down the road. Or so we thought. We took the cost-effective route of traveling to the wall by ourselves, and we thought it was going to be relatively simple: bus to Miyun, then mini-bus to the wall itself. So, the first part was pretty easy- except for us acting skeptical of a woman who was trying to help us at Beijing bus station (needless to say, we're pretty mistrusting now). Then, when we were approaching our intended middle destination, Miyun, we were told by a chubby Chinese guy in a leather jacket that we had to get off at a certain stop, in the middle of the busy street. We quickly got off, and were surprised to see that he held a 'Jinshunling Great Wall' brochure in his hand, and seemed to know how we wanted to get there. 'Minibus?' he said. 'Yes!' we said eagerly, looking around but only seeing a car, 'do you know where the minibus is?'. 'Here,' he replied, sweeping his hand towards the car as though unveiling it, 'mini-mini bus.' Patrick and I looked at each other, not sure if he was joking, then at the Chinese guy, who'd never looked more serious. 'But we were expecting a bus, not a car...' we tried to explain, but the language barrier struck again, and we ended up debating both the price and legitimacy of the whole thing for about 45 minutes. Unable to stand the cold anymore, and trusting our gut instincts that these guys were OK, we haggled down the price and got into the car, hoping that we would get to the Great Wall in one piece. It turns out that our driver was actually a really decent guy; he dropped us right at the wall, gave us 3 hours for a walk, then picked us up and dropped us right at the bus stop for Beijing afterwards. In hindsight, they actually made the whole process much easier; the whole thing was initially just a bit...strange.
   So! Enough of the transport...the Wall itself. I'm not going to lie, it was bloody cold up there, but I was actually glad for it. For the most part, it was just the two of us walking along the wall, with the odd hawker making an appearance claiming to be a Mongolian farmer then trying to sell us souvenirs. If neither of us talked or walked, there was complete and utter silence. The views from the wall were breathtaking, with the mist surrounding the undulating hills adding to the intimate, eerie atmosphere. As you stood for a second and looked into the distance at the silhouettes of continuing wall, it honestly felt like it was going on forever and ever. They have certainly managed to restore the wall well, but our favourite parts were the older, crumbling tower that have been untouched. By one tower, there was a striking image of a man just sitting in front of it, as still and full of mystery as the tower itself, looking out onto the mountains. I wonder what he was thinking?...

   So, Beijing...a city with as many ups-and-downs as the Chinese acrobatics show we went to see (show in summary: flexible Chinese performers flinging themselves in the air and getting into unnatural positions!) We've certainly learned a lot, that's for sure...about traveler scams, forbidden cities, the fact that its legal to eat scorpions on sticks...or maybe it isn't, who knows? We're in Xi'an right now, after sharing a train with the loudest snorer in China, if not the planet...Terracotta Warriors tomorrow! Until then- and remember, if three Chinese girls want to take you to a tea-house,. just say no...

Lost in Translation...and at the Train Station...

I’m pleased to say that our first Chinese sleeper bus did indeed have wipers. We’re clearly going up in the world. Initially, it was all still a little surreal, as we were urgently ushered by an angry Chinese lady into what seemed like a random 8-seater minibus. After about an hour of confusion and slight worry we’d been kidnapped, we were dropped off at our sleeper coach, and all was right again.

So, we arrived in Xiamen around 5am, in the pitch black, with that oh-so-familiar question hanging over us: ‘What do we do now?’ We were also faced with something very UNfamiliar- no hoards of taxi hasslers! After a quick consultation of good old Lonely Planet (which apparently can be confiscated at immigration, so we were lucky!), we headed to the ferry terminal, to catch a boat over to the pretty island of Guluang-Yu.

It was at this ferry terminal that we’d have our first of many ‘language barrier’ encounters in Xiamen. By the time we reached there, we were both literally on the verge of wetting ourselves (TMI, probably), so asked a random Chinese guy reading a newspaper. ‘Toilet?’ Blank look.  Getting desperate, I tried whooshing hand motions between my leg to get the point across; he still looked blank (should’ve guessed that, really!) We had to whip out the Mandarin dictionary, show the right Chinese characters for ‘toilet’, until he pointed to the men’s toilets 100m from us. Actually getting hot flushes from pee-desperation, I ran to the women’s; they were shut. This was more than I could take. I sprinted to the men’s and started a whole new mime show with the guy in the gents, my legs doing some sort of Irish jig. It took the original guy stepping into the toilets to explain what I needed before I was allowed in, and by this time I didn’t even need the toilet that much anymore. Travelling India without extensive knowledge of Hindi was possible, but it became clear that we would have to brush up on our Mandarin pretty sharp-ish…

Anyway, we boarded the free ferry to Guluang-Lu, which seemed like a ghost town in the early morning mist. We began the accommodation search- everywhere was full, full and full again! By the time we reached the fourth place, they were full too, but we couldn’t lift our weary selves from their squidgy sofas. After half an hour of vowing to move but failing, the owner eventually took pity on us and brought us a pot of green tea- on the house! We were so touched by this kindness that we decided to stay for breakfast, which happened to be the best blooming decision ever- BACON! This certainly pepped us up again, and it was time to explore this tranquil island.

All the peace of the early morning had been replaced with literally dozens of Chinese tour groups, 50 man strong, all led by flag-carrying, enthusiastic young Chinese folk wearing head-microphones and talking into them CONSTANTLY and LOUDLY. I guess that’s their job, but we were nearly deafened a few times! The twisting alleyways made it easy to find a few moments of peace, as well as a few unusual sights…

Down one alley, we found a plethora of seafood restaurants. I’m quickly learning that the term ‘fresh seafood’ is taken to a whole new level in China, after spying fish and lobster tanks within restaurants in Shezhen. In Guluang-Yu, different types of seafood were all plonked, alive of course, into shallow red buckets at the front of the restaurant- crabs, eels, lobsters, and all sorts of fish were swimming around and occasionally jumping to freedom! Wandering down another alley into the main square, we saw about 10 groups of old Chinese people, almost symmetrically placed, all playing mysterious card games.

Seriously impressed with the breakfast bacon, we went back to that same hotel for lunch, and got a recommendation for a hotel that they were sure had availability. What this suggested hotel did NOT have, however, was an easy-to-find location. This was not helped by the single most annoying road-naming system I have ever come across. All the roads in one specific area have the same name. Straight ahead? Fuxing Lu. First road on the left? Fuxing Lu. Second road on the right? BLOODY FUXING LU! The question was, which Fuxing Lu were you on the map? After going round and round the same church for about an hour, we eventually decided to take some stairs up to the spot where the map claimed the hotel should be, despite no hotel sign (that we could read).

We were greeted by a wild, sprawling garden with the odd splash of vivid reds and yellows; I felt like I was Mary entering the Secret Garden for the first time! Behind these tangled weeds stood a grey, two storey house that looked too homely to be a hotel, with its washing lines and peeling paint. Having come this far, we kept on walking into the house, but couldn’t find anybody. Eventually, a little smiley Chinese lady came up to us and asked something in Mandarin. Cue ‘language barrier’ encounter number two…

For about 10 minutes, we had a useless system whereby we’d try to ask ‘How much are your rooms?’ in Mandarin, she wouldn’t understand us, we’d show her the Chinese characters in the dictionary, she’d understand, then write the answer in Chinese characters that we didn’t understand. After a while, an old man came to the rescue of both of us; he spoke no English, but wrote down the essential numbers that we needed to know. With great relief, we accepted, saying ‘sorry’ over and over for being so ignorant in Mandarin.  She was such a sweet lady; all of us were in good humour about the whole thing, and even seemed proud that we’d somehow managed to communicate! It was especially hilarious filling in the check-in form, with us guessing what each heading meant, and the lady not understanding anything we’d written anyway!

Our hunch that it was more like a home than a hotel was correct! We saw the Chinese lady’s 6-year old son being scolded for not concentrating on his homework, and as we tried to get to sleep, we heard the Chinese lady having a domestic with her husband! I actually enjoyed the challenge of escaping the typical foreigner’s hotels, and being forced to use the country’s language to communicate. That’s what traveling is all about, right? This house has the potential to sparkle and shine like it did in its glory days- but then it would lose the raw, undiscovered quality that makes it so charming.

So, with a minor debacle of getting train tickets out of Xiamen aside (‘language barrier’ encounter number three), that evening and the following day were pretty relaxed. We even ended up at the beach at one point, chilling with a few bottles of TsingTao’s (the local beer) and watching the fully-clothed Chinese tourists taking photos of themselves in sexy poses, and of a man waving a rattling paper rainbow snake. Good times. Speaking of photos, there seemed to be a 2 day bridal photoshoot going on, with the most beautiful Chinese girls trying on stunning dresses in the middle of the lanes. We tried to sneak in a few shots, but I’m not sure that we were beautiful enough (well, Patrick isn’t anyway…JOKING!)

On that note, guess where I am as I write this? On a 34 HOUR train to Beijing (now you know why this blog post is so long, ha!) It was the only place we could get to from Xiamen, so we thought, why not? Clinically clean, quilted blankets, air-con, continual food carts passing through (with beer too!)…we’re impressed with Chinese trains so far, especially compared to India’s dark, dingy efforts (although we are missing the calls of ‘garam chai!’) Maybe not so impressed with the Chinese pop music that’s occasionally piped through, or the crazy Chinese lady that keeps staring at us…See you in Beijing- 18 hours down, only 16 to go!

Pastures Anew...and Losing My Shoe

So, here we are, sat in a random cafe in mainland China, sipping red bean and soya milkshakes (surprisingly good, despite the suspicious yellow beans lurking at the bottom). What better time to update my blog? I finished this entry about an hour ago- but when I went to to post, the censoring-mad Chinese server blocked me!! But, thanks to Patrick's ingenuity, we've found a sneaky little path back on- and Facebook too! Take that, China- you won't take away our right to freedom of speech and Facebook stalking!
   Ahem!...anyway, For the last four days, we've been living the dazzling, frazzling Hong Kong dream. As soon as we stepped into HK airport, we knew we were in for a different traveling experience; the cleanliness and efficiency of the transport system was a little overwhelming after the last 3 months of confusion and lack of hygiene!
   I'm not one to usually enjoy the anonymity of cities, but after India's intense stares it was somewhat refreshing to by lost amongst the thousands in the wide streets. Both of us didn't know which way to look first; the bursts of neon every which way bedazzled us and has us completely spellbound! This was especially true when we got the tram up to the Peak Tower, and the entire city, usually smoggy and noisy during the day, looked peacefully classy and mesmerizing when dolled up in lights. It reminded me of when a usually scruffy looking man makes a bit impression when he's all suited and booted (hint, hint Patrick! only kidding- ish...)
   Our first tasters of Chinese food were impressive. There were oodles and oodles of noodle restaurants to choose from- my favourite noodle restaurant gave you a card to circle your choice of noodles- kind of like bingo! When Patrick circled 'medium/very spicy', the waitress looked a little dubious, and we soon found out why! We'll certainly remember in the future that 'medium/very spicy' actually means 'OH MY GOD THERE'S A FIRE IN MY MOUTH SOMEONE CALL EMERGENCY SERVICES!' kind of spicy! There were a few delicacies that we saw on the menu, but didn't get to try- barbecued pig's tongue and roasted pigeon might have to be sampled at some point!
   It's fair to say that a part of me will stay with Hong Kong forever...literally. Whilst stepping onto a train, I managed the almost impossible task of losing one of my flip-flops down the gap between the train and the platform- hilariously baffling! I think it would be difficult to recreate, even if I tried! Hong Kong is a very livable city, as seen by the number of expats you see dotted about...it would take much longer than four days to get a true taste of everything this city has to offer!
   Sleeper bus to Xiamen tonight, organised within ten minutes of our arrival on the mainland by a super-efficient Chinese guy with a cigarette dancing around in his mouth. Memories of our first sleeper bus in India are flooding back- wonder if this one will have wipers?...

The Best of Kathmandu and Sad Goodbyes...

When we arrived in Kathmandu, on that first night in Nepal, we were too concerned with the forthcoming trek to pay any attention to the city itself. So it was nice to be able to chill out in the colourful, crazy, cramped Thamel area with its confusing, circular lanes- a true sensual labyrinth. For those who know it, it reminded me of what the UK's Brighton would be like if they tried to cram more and more in. Just one stroll down a Thamel lane, and you're guaranteed at least 5 trekking shops, 10 hotels, 15 cyber cafes, a man trying to sell you a mini ornately carved violin, and a nudge from a hash-dealer. Look to your left and right, and you'll see little backstreets leading to local restaurants exclusively for those in the know in Kathmandu.
   Luckily, we happen to know two such people in Suyra and Sao, and so we were taken to allegedly the BEST momo place in town. The buff momos were OK,  but it was the spicy 'aloo' (potatoes) served on cocktail sticks that I really enjoyed! We were then taken to the 'Tom and Jerry' pub (Kate and Jon, Suyra said you guys went there too?) where we played some pool, and I got chatting to one of Suyra's childhood friends, a journalist who said I could maybe write a feature for his Nepalese mag! Now that would be surreal...This was his first night trying beer as well, bless him! It was also funny trying to teach Suyra the meaning of the words 'cheeky' and 'flirty'- I think he got the idea when we just kept pointing to him!
   We spent most of the next day wandering down Thamel's streets, soaking up the daytime atmosphere with a cheeky haggle for a purse along the way. But the evening brought the true highlight- dinner with Sao's family at his family home. It's fair to say I fell in love a little bit with all his family- his beautiful, chatty 18 year old sister Surakshya, his smiley inquisitive mother, his tiny father, almost hidden under his baseball cap, his grandmother, sitting up enthusiastically in her lounge-situated bed, and his adorable 5 year old cousin, who they referred to as 'Babbo'. It was a real treat to be allowed into their lovely, three-story home- and to experience his mother's dal bhat, officially the best I've tried in Nepal! I had seconds of most of the dal bhat's dishes, and even thirds of some! They were even sweet enough to give us gifts, I got two red bracelets, and we both for brooches of the 'khuriki', the bejeweled, curved gorkha sword (Sao told us to shush in front of his family when Patrick and I, at separate times, said 'Like the Khukiri rum'?) Unfortunately, the visit was to be short and sweet- Patrick and I had to head to the airport for our Hong Kong flight, luckily only 10 minutes away from Sao's home (the airport, not Hong Kong! haha!) So we said our sad goodbyes to the family, with the grandmother giving me a huge hug! Then at the airport, there were even sadder goodbyes, to Suyra and Sao- in keeping with Suyra's obsession with 'one dollar!', we gave them each one dollar before heading to the check-in desk. Only joking! We gave them what they deserved for their kindness and patience during the trekking- I honestly couldn't have reached it to Thorong-La without the calm influence of those guys.
   There's so much we have to go back to Nepal for. We have to do another trek with Suyra and Sao (maybe Everest?)- once in the majestic Himalayas is not enough. That crisp mountain air, those snowy peaks, the challenge of those rugged mountains, the post-trekking fun- its all too addictive to just forget! Surakshya said she'd teach me how to cook dal-bhat and how to put on a sari. And, most importantly of all, we have to spend time with Suyra and Sao, who have become very close friends over the past few weeks. So it's goodbye for now, Nepal- but don't worry, we'll be back...