No Moss on my Stone

Macau

2007-10-03T14:52:00.000-07:00

The Hotel Lisboa is one of Macau's most famous landmarks. It's a hotel/casino and was once considered the height of luxury, Macau style. Now, the Sands, the Venetian, and many other casinos are starting to outdo it, but it's still amazing. My standard room had a king-sized bed, sitting area, free minibar, and all of the perks of a good hotel. I'd forgotten that such things were possible. After going out and exploring the casinos, I jumped into my complimentary robe, used my complimentary toiletries and ordered room service while watching Notes from a Scandal on the free movie channel. Luxury.

That night and the next morning, I was lured by the Macau Tower which was clearly visible from my 17th floor room. I felt a strange urge to jump off of it. ;) AJ Hackett Adventure Co runs an entertainment center on the top of the tower. One has the option of climbing to the very tip of the tower, walking around the outside observation deck, bungy jumping, or doing the world's highest SkyJump. Bungy jumping doesn't really appeal to me because I'm nervous of the whiplash at the bottom, but the idea of jumping off a 61 story tower is quite appealing. So, I booked a SkyJump. This is a harnessed jump that is freefall for most of the 233 meters, but then is a controlled descent for the last 50 meters or so.

It was amazing! I was barely given a chance to feel terrified. Just as I was looking over the edge, wondering how this whole thing worked, the guy said, Jump! and I jumped. Wheeeeeeee!!! I screamed and then screamed with laughter all the way down. When I reached the bottom, I knew that I had to do it again. The 2nd time, you can jump backward! I highly recommend getting high in Macau (that's their ad campaign).

I'd brought my pack with me, and now headed over to Coloane Island for my 2nd night on Macau. I'd spent one night on the peninsula with the casinos. Now, I wanted to see the more downbeat Macau. We passed through Taipa Island, and I saw the new Venetian. It's bigger than the one in Vegas. Taipa is actually quite developed now, and construction in Macau is moving at an incredible rate. Coloane is the part of Macau that is still relatively undeveloped and naturally beautiful.

I checked into the Pousada de Coloane (remember, Macau was once Portuguese) and had a siesta from the heat before going down to Cheoc Van white sand beach for a swim. There, I met two women who'd been living in Macau with their families for 2 years each. We had a great talk about the expat community in Macau and I was convinced to really consider moving to Macau. Crazy! I sat on their blanket with them, watching their children playing, drinking white wine and eating chips while the sun was slowly going down. It was idyllic.

That evening, I took the bus into Macau peninsula to see the casinos one last time. The next morning, I went out to the black sand beach at Hac Sa and then into the village of Coloane for some egg tarts. Wonderful. After one last swim, it was time to get the ferry to Hong Kong and then get out to Lantau Island to catch my flight.

I met a fabulous woman on the ferry, who lives in Singapore with her husband. She convinced me that really, maybe Singapore is where I should be looking for a job. Did you know that a regular 2 bedroom apartment in Hong Kong costs between $8-10,000 US? Per month? Absolutely unreal. In Singapore, it's only $6-7000 US. Back in Kowloon, it was time to figure out how I was getting to Lantau Island and the airport. I wanted to see the Tsing Ma Bridge, the world's 6th largest suspension bridge and then stop off at the world's largest outdoor brass Buddha before getting to the airport. I had momentum. I just needed to figure out whether to take a bus or a ferry and from where. Then, I stalled. I just kept thinking of the oh-so-convenient Airport express train. From the ferry building, there was a free shuttle that would take me to Kowloon Station. There, I could check my baggage for the flight before boarding the train to the airport. Oh, the temptation to be free of my backpack. I gave in to temptation and got on the airport train. It was fabulous. So fast, so air conditioned. Unfortunately, this meant that by the time I got to the airport it was a quarter to 5 - where did the day go? The Monastery with the Buddha stopped letting people in at 5:30 and it takes 45 minutes to get there from the airport. It wasn't going to work. I was crushed. I had failed at the last. I didn't get to see the brass Buddha. :(

I did get to see the Hong Kong Airport. It's like a whole town under one roof. There are shops, and restaurants, and beauty salons, and vehicles to rent to drive you around. It's pretty impressive. Finally, at 8:05pm, I boarded my flight to...San Francisco! Yup, that's right. I'd been on the road for 6 weeks and it was time to go home. I felt as if I'd just left San Francisco a couple of days before, but I can look back over my blog and my pictures and see how much I've done and everywhere I've been.

I had a short layover in Taipei, Taiwan, and then a direct flight from there to SFO. I actually arrived at 7pm of the same day that I left, gaining an hour. Strange. That's what happens with a 15 hour time difference. I'm still adjusting to being awake when my internal clock is telling me that it's 2am and going to sleep when for me it's the middle of the day, but it's good to be home.

I hope that you enjoyed the stories of my travels and feel free to ask questions. There's so much that I learned and experienced that didn't make it into the blog. Thanks for reading!

To see the pictures, try http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/HongKongMacau

Hong Kong

2007-10-03T13:59:00.000-07:00

My time in Hong Kong got off to an exciting start. After I finally got on a plane in Sanya, I headed back to Guangzhou. I had just bought a return ticket to Guangzhou, planning to get a bus from there to Kowloon. I had no idea how that was going to work, I just knew that it could be done.

At the Guangzhou airport, I had a bit of a scare when all of the luggage had been spit out and my pack was nowhere to be seen. It turned out that my bag had got on an earlier flight from Sanya and had been awaiting my arrival in a corner of the baggage claim. Odd. After sorting that out, I went out to the airport shuttle area. There are actually a number of shuttles at the Guangzhou airport. I spoke with a lovely woman who told me that to get to Kowloon, I should take the #5 shuttle to the China Hotel and then catch a bus to Kowloon. OK. Step one. I should mention that at this point, the stress of figuring out how to get from point A to point B was starting to get to me and I had brief flashes of, "maybe I'll just live at this airport for the rest of my life."

At the China Hotel, I eventually discovered that the bus stop had been temporarily moved to the Convention Center across the street. I went over there and bought a ticket at the kiosk. Then, I settled in to wait. While waiting, I had a nice conversation about Chinese property values with a gentleman who was excited to see my Sanya tags, because he had just bought a condo there. The housing market in China is apparently booming.

I spent about an hour and a half on the bus before hitting the Chinese border with the Hong Kong Special Economic Zone. We all got off of the bus, went through Chinese Customs and Immigration, and got back on a new bus that took us 10 minutes to the HK Customs and Immigration station. After getting our visas (most people get a free 90 day tourist visa upon entry to HK), we got back on yet another bus to Hong Kong. This let me off at near the start of Nathan Road in Kowloon. Wow! Nathan Road is called the Golden Mile for a reason. I've never seen more neon in my life. While trying to get a good picture of it, I was nearly hit by a bus, so, sorry but there's no pic of my first sight of Kowloon. I took the metro to Tsim Sha Tsui 'cause it was too far to walk. Really good metro by the way.

All of this took about 6 hours. I didn't actually get to Chungking Mansions until 11:30pm, after being in transit since 1pm. Exhausting. Back in Chengdu, when I made all of my travel reservations, I ignored the advice of many people who had been to Hong Kong, including one who had lived there, and booked a single room in Li's Guesthouse, Block A, Chungking Mansions. I wanted to experience firsthand the overwhelming mass of humanity that is there. I knew that it was filthy, dangerous, stinking, and crowded and I wanted to immerse myself in it. It was only for one night after all.

When I made my online reservation, I had to specify a time of arrival. I had no idea, so I just plugged in 4pm. When I arrived at 11:30pm, I was told, by Li, that because I was late, he was going to charge me double the price. WHAT??? For 2/3 of the time using the room, I would need to pay double the price? x=y and 2/3x=2y. Does that make sense mathematically? What the hell is x? He hadn't lost any money by me having a hellish time getting to Hong Kong. Nor was he inconvenienced in any way. We argued for awhile and he seemed happy to tell me to shove off if I didn't want to pay the higher price. I couldn't understand his attitude since as far as I knew, the place was probably 1/2 empty and the building was full of other guesthouses that would be happy to take my money. I told him that this was "fucking unbelievable". That's when he lost it. Apparently, "fucking" is his trigger word. He screamed, "FUCK??? NO, FUCK YOU, Fuck YOU!!!!" Then he started advancing on me while still screaming FUCK YOU, Fuck YOU!!! I quickly retreated from the scary little man. I ran into a guy in the hallway who told me that Li is crazy and everyone in the building knows that he's crazy, and that I might want to make my escape. Wow.

Well, that was on the third floor of Block A. There were 14 more floors to this tower and 4 other towers. I had no doubt that I'd find another, better place to lay my head. I started up the stairs to floor 4. Full. There were 3 guesthouses there, with 25 beds apiece, and they were all full. How very odd. I continued up to floor 5. Full. 6. Full. Oh shit. I also started taking a look inside each guesthouse. Disgusting. The stairwell was bad enough with a big pile of garbage at each landing. The hotels were awful. The place was packed with immigrants from every part of the Southeastern part of the world, all come to Hong Kong to find work. If you are at all xenophobic, this is not the place for you. The smell was overwhelming. It was midnight and easily 90 degrees inside the building. The mattresses looked about 20 years old. By the time I reached the 12th floor, I was hoping to hear that each room was full. I was longing for an excuse to spend more money and sleep somewhere better. On the 15th floor, I finally found someone to tell me why all of these places were full. It was the Mid-Autumn Festival Eve! Crap. I'd been seeing the moon cakes for weeks and knew that it was coming up soon, but I'd had no idea when the holiday actually was. Everyone and his brother had come out to see the full moon over Victoria Harbor. There was not a bed to be had. I happily gave up on Chungking Mansions and headed back out to Nathan Road.

After a quick stop to check my Lonely Planet, I decided to try the YMCA. Score! For $250 HK, I got a bed in a carpeted, air conditioned, spotlessly clean dorm room in a gorgeous hotel, which I shared with one middle-aged Irish woman from Galway, who I didn't even run into until 3am. The lunatic at Chungking Mansions wanted me to pay $360 to sleep in his flophouse. After dumping my bag, I went out to explore the area and celebrate the holiday.

There were so many people out. It was one in the morning by the time I hit the Avenue of the Stars, yet entire families were wandering around or settled in on blankets watching the moon and eating snacks. It was amazing. The weather was perfect. Warm and balmy without being too hot. Everyone had some sort of glow stick or glow necklace. Hong Kong was right across the harbor and I had one of those moments. That WOW feeling when it's unbelievable that you are where and when you are. I was in Hong Kong for the Mid-Autumn Festival. So cool.

The next day, I took the ferry over to Hong Kong Central and rode the tram up to Victoria Peak. At the top, there was a nice, short hike up to the top of the peak. It felt great to get a little exercise and Hong Kong is amazing from the peak. It's a fabulous place to see, but I'm positive that it's an even better place to work, or at least to come on a business trip. I found the city to be even more impressive than Manhattan. It has all of the features of a giant Western-style metropolis, with the exotic flair of it being in China. Amazing.

After wandering around Kowloon for a bit, and getting another foot massage, I picked up my pack and took the ferry to Macau. My experience in Chungking Mansions was the last straw for me. I couldn't face one more filthy hostel. I checked myself into Hotel Lisboa on the Macau Peninsula to experience the casino district.

To see my photos, please visit http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/HongKongMacau?authkey=N_G8EMmBdJQ

The Hawaii of China

2007-09-30T03:59:00.000-07:00

I was absolutely determined that at some point in my travels, I would wind up on a beautiful white sand beach. After reading Lonely Planet, and checking some travel forums, I settled on Hainan Island, and more specifically, on the beaches of Sanya, the resort destination of China.

I flew in on a Saturday morning from Guangzhou. I had reserved a room at Lama International hostel because they advertised free airport pickup. They had not responded to my email giving my flight details, but I was still hopeful that I'd be met at the airport. Nope. No one there for me. I took the shuttle into the Dadong Bay area of Sanya and managed with a little trial and error to find the hostel. Ick. It was a dump of a building in a residential neighborhood blocks from the beach, devoid of charm or other tourists. Not exactly what I was hoping for. I was tired from searching out the hostel, so I decided to stay one night, and find something better for the next two nights. I told the guy, who was completely unapologetic about failing to get me at the airport, that I'd like to only pay for one night. This is when he piled on the last straw. I had already paid a 30 yuan deposit on my room. He said that he would only apply 10 per night, so I would lose out on the other 20 if I didn't stay there for the entire reservation. That's when I told him to piss off and that I would be arranging other accommodations.

I set off with backpack in place in search of Blue Sky International Hostel, LP's number one pick for Sanya. I had wanted to avoid it, 'cause the #1 pick for LP is typically also the number one party spot in a town. I wanted to veg on the beach, not be up all night drinking. I found the hostel, a block from the beach, in another unappealing building, but right in the center of things with loads of other tourists in residence. I booked myself a single room with ensuite bathroom and a balcony and counted my blessings. My 30y deposit over at the other hostel was well lost. I have definitely learned my lesson about booking through hostelworld.com in China. Don't do it. Call and book your room over the phone. Every hostel gives free local calls, so calling is never a problem. If you go through hostel world, 1/2 the places will inflate their prices so that your deposit turns into a booking fee, and the other 1/2 are not places you would choose to stay in after getting a look at the facilities. Either way, the money from your deposit is a loss.

After doing a quick unpacking job, I threw on my bathing suit and raced off to the beach. Pure luxury. Floating peacefully on my back looking up at the sky, listening to the sound of happy people. It was heaven. All of the stress washed off into the ocean. I did get a jolt when a Russian lady ran into me when we were both floating on our backs. We screamed simultaneously, then I started laughing and apologized, though she ran into me. No response. I had a nice refresher course in Russian etiquette. By laughing and smiling, I revealed my imbecilic tendencies and social inferiority. I need to work back up to my blanket glare of disdain with which to greet strangers.

I swam in the lovely turquoise water and walked along the beach. Then, after a shower and dinner at the hostel, I went shopping. Pearls are incredibly cheap in Southeast Asia, and I felt an urge to buy some. Then, it was cat toys, then snacks at the Food Festival market, then ice cream made on the street from fresh fruit. Replete, I headed back to my room, flipped on the air conditioner and drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, before breakfast, I went down to the beach for a swim. That is the life. Being able to stumble out of bed, into a bathing suit, and into the water on a tropical beach - priceless. After breakfast, I had an early siesta with a book, then set out on my rented bicycle to explore a bit of the island. After riding for 3 minutes, I realized that the gears on the bike were not going to shift. The derailer or some other part of the bike was broken and so the gear was stuck on the smallest front sprocket, meaning that with me pedaling as fast as I could, I was going maybe two mph. Great. I went back to the hostel and one of the workers manually moved the chain up to a larger sprocket. OK. There are no real hills, so as long as I was in a good cruising gear, a one-speed bike was fine. Then, about 15 minutes away from the hostel, the chain slipped backed to the smaller sprocket. Argh! It took me 25 minutes to get back to the hostel, where I requested, and received a refund. Very annoying.

Luckily, something to assuage my irritation was coming up next. Scuba diving! Yes, I've told many people that I had no desire to dive, that my shark phobia was too intense and that I could live without diving. Well, there are shark nets up in Sanya. There were many other people out in the water at the same time, making the chances of me being chosen as a snack exceedingly slim. So, I decided, why not?

At the diving center, I found out that this would be an assisted dive. After I got into my wetsuit, I was told that: 1) OK sign means I'm fine; 2) thumb down means I want to go deeper; 3) thumb up means I want to go up; 4) pointing to my ear means that my ears hurt; and 5) pointing to my stomach means that my stomach hurts. That was it. I've seen beginner diving classes before, and they were much more intense, and boring than that. What the hell, it's China, and I had a basic idea of what I would need to do. The guy strapped my tanks on, led me into the water and then floated me out to a coral bed. Then, we dove.

We went down about 6 feet to start with. We swam around a bit, looking at coral and fish while I got my bearings and got used to breathing through my regulator. I also needed to learn how to equalize the pressure in my ears. Finally, I was comfortable, and we decended to a little over 10 feet under water. It was amazing. Looking up to see the surface so far away. The water was absolutely clear and I was able to see the color of the reef and the fish and the anemones and the sea bed. Unfortunately, the guy with me kept trying to guide my hand to touch the coral. Not good. In Sanya, they try to increase the demand for scuba diving by advertising that you are allowed to touch the coral. This kills the coral and is not something that divers are ever supposed to do. I finally got through to him that I did not want to touch the coral, but did agree to touch a sea anemone and was enthusiastic about trying to catch a fish. After 5 minutes or so, I was swimming around on my own, and swam right into a school of yellow and black zebra striped fish, each about 5" long and 4" high. It was one of the most amazing moments of my life. I definitely want to do that again, as soon as I get over my shark fear.

Finally, my 45 minutes was up, and we headed back in. It was so cool, the guy actually towed me in to shore. However, I noticed that all of the Chinese women were brought to the lowest step, where all of their gear was removed. I was left to clamber up to the top of the stairs and actually had to call out to get my guy to come take my tanks. Of course, those same ladies spent their time in the water effectively snorkeling, rather than diving. They were on the surface the whole time. I'm not sure why they didn't just snorkel, but we all had fun doing what we felt comfortable with, so that's what matters.

I was so jazzed up after having finally dived for the first time that I decided to rent a scooter when I got back to the hostel and head out around the island. I should have known by the way that the bicycle had (not) been maintained that this was not the best idea. The hostel has two scooters. One was broken and not available, the second was brought out and the hostel guy took it on a little test drive to make sure that it was working OK. Well, there was a problem. A half an hour later, I was no longer waiting patiently. I asked if there was anywhere else that I could rent a motorbike or scooter. Nope! I sincerely doubt that this was true, but was so fed up that I decided to toss the plan and go to the hot springs instead.

Nantian Hot Springs is the must-do spot on Hainan. It's a huge complex of hot springs at a resort on the south side of the island. Tickets cost around 180 y and cover entrance to the springs, a locker, towels, and sandals. There are numerous pools of different temperature in different settings, as well as a children's play center, pools of various liquids (milk, coffee, etc.), an infinity pool with a basketball hoop and a fish therapy pond. The fish therapy pond is definitely the highlight. It is so so amazing. Tiny silvery fish come and eat your softened dead skin. It's a little disturbing when you see dozens flock to you, and it made me recommit to a better exfoliation program, but it's an amazing feeling to be nibbled alive. Mostly, it just tickles, and it's hard to stay still. The bigger fish though seem to actually have teeth, and they hurt a tiny bit, just like a very delicate pin prick. They are fairly easy to shoo away. I can see why they call it therapy. I found it to be extremely relaxing.

After the hot springs, I took a cab back to Dadonghai and splurged on the fancy Italian restaurant, Roma. What a fantastic decision that was. Roma's restaurant is in a rooftop rotunda with candlelight and fainting couches with silk pillows. I had a 3 course meal while lounging at my leisure. It was fantastic. The best food I'd had since the Wenshu monastery in Chengdu. I paid Western prices, but since it was as good as or better than Italian food that I can get in San Francisco, I considered it to be well worth the price.

That night, Typhoon Francisco hit Hainan. I woke up to pouring rain. So much for my plan of a morning on the beach and an afternoon on a motorbike. I hung around the hostel with the other housebound travelers until there was a break in the rain around 2. Then, I caught the double decker bus out to Yalong Bay to see how the other half live. Sanya is divided into three sections: the city, Dadong beach, and Yalong beach. Dadonghai, where I stayed is the more economical and had more tourist services at lower prices. It has supermarkets, shops, restaurants, vendors, etc. It also has filth, burning garbage, rabid rats (a guy at the hostel a month before I got there was bitten and needed rabies shots), bugs and lizards. Yalong Bay has the same gorgeous beach, but no shops or restaurants other than the ones provided inside the Hilton, Sheraton, etc., and it is spotlessly, beautifully clean. In the future, I'd go in the off season when they give deep discounts and I'd stay in Yalong Bay.

Walking along the beach in the wind from the typhoon was exhilarating. There is not much in the way of waves in Hainan, but this was as big as I'd seen them. The wind tugged my hair and blew in my eyes. There were very few other people, and those that were out looked just as happy as I felt. I had to turn back when I hit a restricted military zone, but kept walking in the other direction. Finally, I'd had enough and decided to catch the bus in the other direction and head up to Tianya-Haijiao Tourist Zone, also known as the end of the earth. This is a park complex that is the southernmost part of China. I was expecting a cliff, and instead found an extensive topiary park complex surrounding a nice stretch of beach, charging a 65 y admission price. It was nice, but not quite what I was hoping for. After walking around for a bit, the wind had really started to pick up. I headed back out to the carpark to catch a bus. This started one of my odder interactions during my trip.

I checked a few buses and none were going to Dadonghai (hai means bay by the way). I stood around at a loss for a second until I noticed someone watching me. On the beach at Yalong, I'd exchanged grins with a fellow surf watcher who was clearly enjoying the typhoon as much as I was. Then I left to get the bus, and only vaguely noticed when he got on the bus, too. It seemed normal that he was also going to the end of the earth. After all, it is one of the few things to do in Sanya. However, I did notice that he didn't go inside when we arrived. I thought it was a little odd, but supposed that like me, he was disappointed by what it was, and unlike me, was too wise to waste his money on it. Then, he was waiting when I came out of the exit. Hmm. I started to wonder if it was possible that he'd followed me. Surely not. Then, it started to sprinkle. He brought me an umbrella. He didn't try to chat me up, just insisted that I use his umbrella and stood quietly about 3 feet from me, far enough to be outside of my personal space. Interesting. After a minute, he asked where I was going. I told him. After another minute, I asked where he was going. He laughed and after a pause, said that he also was going to Dadonghai. Then, he proceeded to find us a bus. He took care of all of the travel arrangements and still didn't try to interact with me. He seemed content to just be near me. Then we got to Dadonhai. I said thanks, and that this was my stop. He said that he was going further and goodbye. That was it. He didn't try to go for a drink or even ask my name. A very very strange incident.

That night, the typhoon really hit. The door to my balcony banged and whistled and whined all night. I slept with earplugs not to drown out the sounds of the storm. In the morning, it was still going strong. I was a little concerned for my flight. It was at 2pm, and I wasn't sure if I was nervous that it wouldn't take off and my plans would be delayed, or that it would take off and we would crash and die. Conundrum.

Either way, I packed up, checked out, and recovered my deposit, with difficulty. Keeping deposits seems to be a sideline for the hostel. A woman checking out after me not only didn't receive her deposit back, but was being charged an additional 100 yuan for a stained sheet. I'm not sure how much dry cleaning costs in Sanya, but I doubt that it is 150 yuan.

Well, I lucked out. The storm blew itself out by 11pm and my 2 o'clock flight was only slightly delayed. We actually left by 3:30, which was amazing considering the pandemonium at the airport. Some morning flights weren't rescheduled to leave for 7-8 hours and the airport was packed with angry, frustrated travellers. Not quite the end most people want for their vacation in paradise. Personally, I strapped in, declined my snack of dried shredded squid and settled back with my book for the flight back to Guangzhou. I had a lovely time in Sanya and would love to go back to stay at an actual hotel, with actual amenities. I was reaching the end of my hostelling limit. Read my next post to find out when and why I do get to the end of my tether regarding filth and discomfort.

To see the photos from this part of my trip, see: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/christine7world/Sanya

Guangzhou, or Canton that was

2007-09-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

When I was still in Chengdu, I had a dilemma. I had reached the end of my definite itinerary. I knew that I wanted to go to Hainan (island in the South China Sea) at some point, but my time until then was unaccounted for. I wanted to do the horse trek to Songpan, but it was pouring rain and I'm not thrilled by the idea of riding a horse in the rain. Chafing. I thought about taking a 3 Gorges cruise. However, my experience on the train from Moscow to Beijing showed me that I am not temperamentally well suited to sitting in place for days on end watching beautiful scenery go past. Maybe it'd be fun with a friend, but by myself, I foresaw much boredom and gnashing of teeth. I could hop over to Shanghai for a few days, but it was all the way across the country, and thus not a very efficient route from Chengdu to Hainan.

I sat up poring over Lonely Planet, looking for anything that sounded interesting. That's when I read about Guangzhou; Canton, as it was called for hundreds of years of British domination. Founding site of a wonderful culinary tradition, and location of infamous market in puppies and kitties for the pot. It sounded perfect! Nice colonial background to provide some interesting architecture. Some good temples, and the infamous Qingping market. I decided to spend 3 nights there and was curious as to why no other backpackers seemed to be mentioning Guangzhou in their itineraries.

Let me tell you something about Lonely Planet. The number one backpacker complaint about LP is that they are enthusiastic about everything. They will never come out and say, "the place is a dud, skip it." The dustiest small town will be described with only a fraction less enthusiasm than the Great Wall of China. I fell victim to this phenomena despite being on the watch for it.

Guangzhou is a city. It's a fairly standard city with no major tourist sites. It does have Shamian Island, granted as a permanent foreigner enclave/trading post following the First Opium War. The island is full of beautiful European style buildings that are decaying in a visually appealing way. It is also the number one location for American couples adopting Chinese babies, due to the presence of a US Consulate specializing in adoption. That was not mentioned in LP.

When I arrived and found out just what Guangzhou has to offer, I was a little doubtful as to the wisdom of my choice of destination. However, after a little thought, I realized that I was all touristed out, and wouldn't mind some downtime. Also, I'm an urban dweller. I actually like cities. I like watching people in cities. I like to wander around and find out how things work. Guangzhou might be more of a transit hub than a tourist destination, but it worked for me.

I spent most of my time on Shamian Island. My hostel was on Baietan Bar Street right across the Pearl River from Shamian. There was a ferry practically right outside my door that for 50 mao (1/2 a yuan), would drop me off on the corner of the island. I went over in the morning for coffee and a muffin and would stay for a few hours or all day, depending on my whim. Shamian Island is also home to the world's only atmospheric Starbucks. Occupying a colonial building with a large courtyard garden, the interior has 2 large rooms, one with a fireplace, and huge windows. It is absolutely lovely. Amazing. I thought that it was a branding requirement that all Starbucks be ugly.

After coffee, I would use the free internet over at Blenz coffee house, and wander the streets watching the people and looking for photo ops. The entire island has 3 east-west streets and 4 north-south roads. It is tiny. It consists of large hotels with their population of American families, old buildings subdivided into numerous tiny studio apartments, and the odd restaurant, shops selling tourist crap geared to appeal to new parents eager to spend money, and number of people who've come to the island for photo shoots, whether professional fashion shoots or private wedding pictures. The bridal photo thing seems to have caught on here.

I really enjoyed watching the adoptive parents. They all seemed to be American. Most were older, and seemed a little unsure of how to handle their new child. I saw a lot of awkward moments that were very sweet. I also saw one lesbian couple with a new daughter. That was surprising because I was under the impression that China wouldn't allow gay couples to adopt. This preconception was probably formed by a Simpsons episode though.

I'm torn on the whole Chinese adoption subject. Of course, my opinion of the process is entirely beside the point and meaningless to any of the principals involved. It just seems horrific on the one hand that China is selling its daughters to Americans, yet it makes everyone involved so happy that it's hard to argue against the practice. Seeing those chortling little girls with new adoring parents, knowing that they will have good lives makes it difficult to think that it's an abhorrent policy. I can argue both sides, without being able to commit fully to either position. I did see one couple that had gotten a baby boy. This was astonishing until I learned that in addition to his visible cleft palate, he also had a number of other ailments that had kept him hospitalized for all of the previous year - he was 2. The new parents weren't told of his health issues until after the papers were signed. They said, and I believed them, that they would have taken him regardless, but it would've been nice to have been told in advance. Question: should there be lemon laws for adoption agencies?

There was so much to see and ponder on the island that I spent a day and a half there without feeling any urge to leave. Just the prevalence of old shade trees made it one of my favorite spots in China. For a people so obsessed with white skin, it hasn't seemed to occur to the Chinese that shade trees might be of assistance. I did get a massage on Day 2 at a Chinese medical health center. The foot massage was absolutely incredible. It included a shoulder massage and foot bath as well as a chiropractic spinal adjustment. Fabulous. I felt invigorated and ready for almost anything. Then, I got the body massage. OUCH. If you have a very high pain threshold, you might enjoy that massage. If you enjoy having someone stick his fingers in your ears and rub his sweaty hands all over your face, you will love it! I did not particularly enjoy it and will stick to foot massage from here on.

After a couple of days luxuriating in real coffee (I am truly sick of drinking Nescafe), and beauty, I did finally get a bite from the tourist bug and wandered over to see the Chen Family Ancestral Confucian Academy. It's being used as a folk art museum and it well worth a look. Gorgeous building and some nice art pieces on display. Then, I went over to the Five Celestials Shrine. This is a Taoist Shrine dedicated to the 5 "fairies" who rode down from heaven on goats with ears of rice in their mouths during the reign of King Yi of the Zhou Dynasty - I have no clue what that works out to on the Gregorian calendar. They gave rice to the local people who were in the midst of a rather severe famine, and blessed all of their future crops. The immortals then rose into the sky and their goats turned into statues. Guangzhou was founded on the spot of their landfall and was called Yangcheng (City of Goats) and Suicheng (City of Rice Ears). The shrine was a bit lacklustre as a site, but anecdotally is a must-do. They rode goats!!!

Just to hit Confucian, Taoist, and Buddhist sites all in one day, I continued on to the Temple of the 6 Banyan Trees. This temple contains the Flowery Pagoda which has 17 levels, as well as quite a few trees and a few different shrines. The representations of the Buddha seemed slightly more influenced by India than others that I've seen in China. It was originally built in 537 and has had a variety of names during that time span. It finally settled into the Temple of the Six Banyan Trees during the Song Dynasty (960-1279 CE) when a visiting author was invited to rename it. He said that he had come to the temple suffering from depression, but while he was there, there were 6 particular banyan trees that had made him feel so happy to perceive that his depression had lifted. Thus, the Temple of the Six Banyan Trees.

Honestly, the temple was nice, but what sticks out about my visit there is what happened outside of the temple. I had stepped aside out of the way of a monk leading a group of pilgrims, and was trying to decide if I had enough chutzpa to take a couple photos of them (I didn't), when I was surrounded by a group of beggers. They all were missing hands. I don't know how many there were. One second, I was looking at my camera, the next, my field of vision was filled with wrist stumps being waved in my face. There were between 4 and 6 of them, I think. A couple were double amputees, and the rest were only missing one hand each. They were all smiling broadly. I'm ashamed to say that I didn't give any of them any money. When they appeared, I just wanted to get away and so I entered the temple complex. While inside, I decided to give each person 20 yuan when I left. However, they were gone by the time that I exited the temple. The whole thing was unsettling. I asked a couple of people (hostel workers, locals on Shamian) if there was a reason why there were so many amputees around the temple, but the people I asked either didn't know or wouldn't say. I have since learned that Guangzhou is one of the locations where Falun Gong is most harshly suppressed. There is a "rehab center" in the city that serves as a reeducation center. I have no idea if their allegations of severe torture are true, but I can say from personal experience that there are a lot of people missing limbs in Guangzhou.

I also tried to visit the Qingping market, fully prepared to be horrified and sickened by the sight of dogs and cats being sold as meat. Foiled! I don't know where people go now to buy their nice haunch of golden retriever, but there was nary a puppy to be found at Qingping. I saw snakes, lizards, sea horses, beetles and roaches - all for human consumption. I didn't see any edible housepets. I felt a little cheated, and a little relieved. Only a little relieved because I doubt that Cantonese cuisine no longer serves fried cat, just the market location seems to have shifted.

I had a lovely, relaxing time in Guangzhou. The city was a relief after Yangshuo; the Pearl River was lovely, especially at night by boat - though the river meant mosquitos; Shamian Island is fantastic; and the number one best thing about Guangzhou is the emphasis on fitness. I love it. I got up early two days in a row to go out and watch the people exercising on the riverfront. It was amazing. My favorite was an old man who was a tai chi master. He was teaching a student and I watched them practice for almost half an hour. During the entire time, the master never lost his balance or focus. It was amazing. Not huge bursts of effort, rather a sustained intensity of small, slow movement.

My time in Guangzhou drew to a close. Next up was the island of Hainan and some lounging at the beach in Sanya. Yay!

You can see my pictures at http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Guangzhou

Yangshuo, the port of excretion

2007-09-21T18:17:00.000-07:00

On my third day in Yangshuo, I rose early, thrilled to bits to be going kayaking. I love kayaking. Being on the water, going at my own pace and in the direction of my choice. It sounded heavenly. I was also looking forward to some good exercise.

I arrived at the tour office at 9am, as scheduled. There, I only had a short wait before my guide showed up. That's when the first blip occurred. Instead of a nice minibus to take us out to the launch site, there was a motorbike. OK, I was wearing my flipflops, but I'm an adventurous sort. I hopped on behind the driver and tried not to sit too close. Then, I noticed that there was only one motorbike. Odd. How was the guide getting around. Oh, I hadn't realized that three adults could all fit on one motorbike. OK.

We left town and headed out into what Lonely Planet raves about as "some traveler's best experience in China", the countryside around Yangshuo. We went through small villages and fields, seeing many an unspoiled vista and charismatic farmer. Lovely. Of course, it was a little hard to appreciate the scenery while racing past on the extremely rocky dirt road, sandwiched between two strange men. Quite an experience.

Finally, we arrived at another village where the guide stored his kayaks. There, the second blip came up. While I was occupied photographing a water pump, he pulled out...an inflatable canoe. Ah, no. I wanted a kayak. He explained to me that it was very very difficult to transport a kayak back from Puyi - that he would be forced to rent a tractor. He went on and on and on. Finally, I agreed to try it. We went down to the river. This is where I discovered that I'd be on my own on the river. No other tourists had been interested in kayacking and boyo would meet me in Yuli. After a pause, I realized that I actually would prefer a little time alone, so that was fine. Then, I asked how I would know that I had reached the meeting point. He said, "At Puyi," and looked at me as if I was crazy for needing to ask.

I said, "Yes, well, I've never been to Puyi. How will I know that I've arrived?" He responded that I shouldn't worry, he would take the responsibility of finding me, that it was very easy." I said OK. As I started paddling, he called out, as a last minute thought, "At the fork, go right, and at the island, go left!" Great, right then left. Or, was it the other way around?

After about 2 minutes of paddling, I realized that a) the inflatable canoe was extremely unsteady and eager to dump me in the river; b) sitting in the front of a 2-person boat meant that when I paddled, it was very hard to steer a straight course because vigorous paddling spun me from side to side; c) an inflatable canoe moves like a barge. Far from zipping hither and yon in my kayak, I was barely able to move faster than the current, and if I paddled too hard, I went wildly off course; d) the paddle that I'd been given was basically a child's toy, far to spindly to work well. This was not going to work. I managed to get to the bank, and climbed back up to demand the kayak that I had reserved. I had paid to go kayaking, not to float down the river in this ridiculous thing. The motorbike was gone. I banged on the door of the storage facility and got no response. This was it. I was stuck with the stupid raft. I was stranded with no way to get back to Yangshuo except going downriver and meeting the jerk who guilted me into this raft.

With anger in my heart, I climbed back in the floating hell. After 2 hours of paddling in less and less scenic environs, this anger had increased to hatred. I hated that tour company. I hated the guy who tricked me into accepting this ridiculous boat. I hated the motorbike driver for taking off so quickly. I hated the fishermen and bamboo cutters for staring at me as I floated past them in my ridiculous puffy blue boat. I loathed the tourists going past me in their air conditioned motor boats. I was streaming sweat, broiling in the sun despite my hat, and incredibly frustrated by trying to get that raft to move. I did discover that the Li river is a great place for primal yells and for singing at the top of your lungs. It was a way to pass the time. I discovered a hitherto unknown talent for songwriting. Oddly, all of the songs seemed to be quite insulting about the physical, mental and spiritual attributes of the jerk who put me in the instrument of torture.

Then, I reached Puyi. Of course, I didn't know it was Puyi. From the river, there are a couple of buildings and a big floating factory barge, emitting black smoke. I didn't see my guy. I paddled over to the left bank where I saw a woman with a baby. When I asked, "Puyi?" she pointed downriver. I thanked her and continued on. After about a 20 minutes, I had doubts and asked some fishermen where Puyi was. They pointed back the way that I'd come. Great. While floating downriver, the current had seemed negligible, barely helpful at all. When fighting against it, suddenly that current was a lot stronger. I　ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ　ｔｏ　ｇｅｔ　ｏｕｔ　ａｎｄ　ｗａｌｋ　ｏｎ　ｔｈｅ　ｒｉｖｅｒ　ｂａｎｋ　ｆｏｒ　ａｗｈｉｌｅ，　ｐｕｌｌｉｎｇ　ｍｙ　ｃａｎｏｅ．　Ｔｈｉｓ　ａｌｌｏｗｅｄ　ｍｅ　ｔｏ　ｂｅｃｏｍｅ　ｓｏａｋｅｄ　ｆｒｏｍ　ｔｈｅ　ｗａｉｓｔ　ｄｏｗｎ　ｉｎ　ａｄｄｉｔｉｏｎ　ｔｏ　ｓｗｅａｔｙ，　ｈｏｔ，　ａｎｄ　ｐｉｓｓｅｄ　ｏｆｆ．　Ｉ　ｗａｌｋｅｄ　ａｓ　ｆａｒ　ａｓ　Ｉ　ｃｏｕｌｄ，　ｂｕｔ　ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌｌｙ　ｈａｄ　ｎｏ　ｃｈｏｉｃｅ　ｂｕｔ　ｔｏ　ｃｌａｍｂｅｒ　ｂａｃｋ　ｉｎ　ａｎｄ　ｐａｄｄｌｅ．　Ｉwas on the wrong side of the river, you see. As soon as Iｓｔａｒｔｅｄ　ａｃｒｏｓｓ　ｔｈｅ　ｒｉｖｅｒ，　ｆｉｇｈｔｉｎｇ　ｔｈｅ　ｃｕｒｒｅｎｔ，　ｍｙ　ｔｒｕｓｔｙ　ｇｕｉｄｅ　ａｐｐｅａｒｅｄ，　ｊｕｍｐｉｎｇ　ｕｐ　ａｎｄ　ｄｏｗｎ　ａｎｄ　ｗａｖｉｎｇ　ｈｉｓ　ａｒｍｓ，　ｗｅａｒｉｎｇ　ａ　ｂｒｉｇｈｔ　ｏｒａｎｇｅ　ｓｈｉｒｔ　ｔｈａｔ　ｗａｓ　ｉｍｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ　ｔｏ　ｍｉｓｓ．　Ｇｒｅａｔ．　Ｉｆ　ｏｎｌｙ　ｈｅ＇ｄ　ｂｅｅｎ　ｔｈｅｒｅ　４５　ｍｉｎｕｔｅｓ　ａｇｏ．　He continued waving, apparently convinced that I was frantically paddling upstream in his direction by merest fluke and that without his assistance, I would...let's see, continue past? I flipped him off and kept paddling.

Finally, I reached the other bank and had the opportunity to tell the guy exactly what I thought of his "kayak trip". He said, "I don't understand. Many Chinese people have taken this canoe and are very happy. I knew that I had no chance of getting my money back, so I at least tried to make him feel like a jerk. It didn't do much good. Tour operators in Yangshuo have thick skins from dealing with a constant stream of angry, cheated customers.

We trudged into Puyi's one main street where I discovered that my mode of transit back to Yangshuo was the local bus. The bus that didn't leave for another 40 minutes. I got to sit around, in wet things for 40 minutes waiting to board the local bus. In Yangshuo, they'd actually tried to charge me 50 yuan extra for my transit back to Yangshuo. This was particularly funny when I saw what the transit was - a 1.50 rattletrap minibus. When I mentioned how poorly organized this entire thing was, I was told, "It's OK, you just didn't like the boat."

After all of that, I arrived back in Yangshuo in a pisser of a mood. I decided to have some down time and after a much needed shower, I set off on an epic quest for edible food. My quest was unsuccessful, but as a side bennie, I did try 3 new restaurants. Then, it was time to get changed and head over to the highlight of my trip, the performance of 'Impression of the 3rd Liu Sister' on the Li River. This is an entire theatrical event involving 600 performers, multiple costume and lighting changes, all on the Li river with the karst peaks as a backdrop. Absolutely brilliant! The directors are geniuses. Since they are the ones in charge of choreographing the
Beijing Olympics opening ceremonies, I might actually watch. It should be fabulous.

I arrived back at my guesthouse in a much improved state of mind, thinking that Yangshuo really was a wonderful place. I was tired, happy, and ready to go to bed. Then, I saw them. They were everywhere - baby cockroaches. My bedside table was absolutely covered in them. I saw at least 30. I am not well equipped to deal with cockroaches. I am lucky enough to not have extensive experience with them. They seemed especially excited by my box of nescafe packets, which was covered in them. I have no clue why cockroaches want to be caffeinated, but apparently they do.

I raced back downstairs and announced my problem. A girl came back upstairs with me, carrying a rag. Together, we threw out nearly everything on that table. I didn't care that these were things I'd carried around for a month. They'd been contaminated and needed to be removed. For example, my dental floss had cockroaches on it. Would you use cockroach floss? Neither would I. At my insistence, she wiped down the area with bleach before leaving. OK. In this room, I had already dealt with 2 black jumping spiders, now cockroaches. That was it. My opinion of Yangshuo calcified. The place is a pit. Stay in Guilin, visit Yangshuo. Unless you enjoy living in filth while being hounded and ripped off at every opportunity - it takes all kinds.

The next day was my last in Yangshuo. I needed to be on a bus to Guilin by 4pm, to catch my 6:40 train to Guanzhou. I spent the morning repacking my bag, trying very hard to ensure that I would not be the unwitting transporter of sightseeing cockroaches. Then, I had a (bad) lunch and hung out in an internet cafe until it was time to catch my bus.

Once I'd boarded the bus, I felt much better. I think that Yangshuo, like Xi'an was just unlucky for me. I should have worn more red (red is considered a lucky color in China). I'm sure that over the years to come, I will forget about the cockroaches and pushy vendors, and remember the beautiful scenery and placid water buffalo. I'm glad that I had the opportunity to go, and boy, was I glad to get away!

In Guilin, I was actually dropped off at the train station. I had plenty of time to shop for snacks before boarding the train. Once the train had arrived and we had all shoved our way aboard, I happily settled in to my soft sleeper compartment. Well worth the extra money. I had a lovely bed in a four bunk room. I was sharing with an elderly man who was traveling with his two daughters. The daughters were actually in the next compartment, but they kept running over every few minutes to make sure that Baba was OK and didn't need anything. It was so sweet. The 'girls' must have been in their 50s and they were devoted to their father. Every time he would settle down for a rest, one or both of them would come in to make sure that he had tea, slippers, food, a pillow, etc. Finally, they decided to switch, so that one of the daughters could watch him. So, I ended up sharing with the younger daughter while Baba went next door with his elder daughter.

That was it. My time in Guangxi province was at an end, and I was on to new environs. Did my luck improve in Guangzhou? That would be telling! ;)

Update: I've just met a Dutch couple who stayed at a place called The Giggling Tree. It is 5 km outside of Yangshuo, on the river, fabulous food, a lovely courtyard and private rooms for 100 yuan, all spotlessly clean. It provided bikes, motorbikes, tours and tickets. They had a wonderful time and were incredulous when I told them of the cockroaches. Just an fyi, in case anyone is planning on going there.

For pictures, please see http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/GuilinYangshuo

Yangshuo the Magnificent

2007-09-20T02:27:00.000-07:00

The karst topography around Yangshuo and Guilin make it the number one scenic destination in Guangxi province, and debatably in all of China. The distinctive sharp peaks, caves, natural bridges and streams were all formed by groundwater working on limestone over the course of a few thousand years. While stunning, this area is fragile and easily damaged by the everpresent pollution. I had my first look at the region in Guilin, and loved it. Then, I took the obligatory Li River cruise. This was 4 hours on a cruise ship floating down the river past peak after peak after spectacular peak - all the way downriver to Yangshuo town. Most of the peaks have a Chinese name that was settled on it hundreds of years ago. These are names suggested by the shape of the hill. Think of laying in the grass looking for shapes in the clouds. Instead, people laid on bamboo rafts and looked for shapes in the hills. We have elephant trunk hill, demon hill, weeping woman hill, etc. etc. Most require a great deal of imagination to see, and honestly it's a lot more fun to discover your own shapes in the hills. Not a bad way to spend a couple of hours.

So, I spent my 4 hours on the boat, watching the hills slowly pass, and comparing the sight to the documentaries on China that I've seen in the past. It was a little anticlimactic. I always thought that it would be so amazing to go down the Li River surrounded by that dramatic scenery. It was nice, but I think that I'd reached saturation point. One can only be stunned and awed so many times before becoming a little blase. I really needed to rest and build up a new store of globetrotterism. I would certainly recommend the trip, but think it'd be better if you don't expect too much.

Lunch began my food purgatory for the next 4 days. The vegetarian option was soup of celery and potato, a dish of fried celery, a dish of fried cucumber, rice (mine had bugs in it), and sweet tofu skin which was pretty much pure fat rather than protein. I was to become extremely tired of cucumber and celery. There must have been a bumper crop of it just recently, 'cause all "mixed vegetable" dishes are cucumber, celery, and a couple slivers of carrot. I really don't like cooked cucumber.

We docked in Yangshuo at around 1:30. I declined the opportunity to take the supplementary tour that would give me, for 200 yuan, a set of watered down, accessible experiences that I could have on my own for 65 yuan and much more personal satisfaction. I found my hostel, the Waterbuffalo Guesthouse inside the Buffalo Bar right off of West Street (the main pedestrian street in Yangshuo). I was disturbed to realize that this was definitely not a hostel, it was a few nice rooms above a bar. There would be no meeting of other travellers in a common room. As a trade off, I got a private sitting room, bathroom, and bedroom with air conditioning and a television. Hmmm. I was won over by the private bathroom, a by now unthought of luxury.

That first afternoon, I mostly spent searching for edible food and exploring my environs and my options. The available activities were: cormorant fishing, hot air ballooning, full day tour to the dragon back rice terraces, the Impressions show on the river, cycling, the water cave, rock climbing, white water rafting, kayaking, bamboo rafting, hiking, etc. etc. This place was fully kitted out with a myriad of tourism options as well as a large expat community that mostly consisted of American and British 22 year olds who didn't want to teach English, but didn't want to go home either. They worked in restaurants, led tour groups, and mostly just got drunk every night, adding to the atmosphere of Yangshuo.

On the food front, the town was covered with pizza and ice cream. The pizza was uniformly awful. The ice cream was quite yummy. I also tried 3 versions of a veggie burger. The best was just a slice of firm tofu in a bun with tomato, lettuce, and cucumber. Simple and tasty. The worst was the breaded, deep fried soft tofu. I came to a decision that I would no longer force myself to eat the disgusting food I was served. I would still pay for it, but if it was inedible, I would no longer fool myself that the few bites I managed to choke down was a meal. Instead, I'd go to a different restaurant and try again. This wasted a lot of money, but succeeded in stopping my weight loss. I don't know if I've regained any weight, but at least I am no longer wasting away. My personal favorite on the inedible food front is the 'vegetarian burrito'. I was quite excited to see that on a menu. Until, that is, I inquired as to the ingredients, "Oh, it is very good. It is full of bamboo shoots, celery..." at this point, I thanked the girl and continued walking. Yangshuo is definitely an adventurous place for the vegetarian diner.

The main tourist area confined by the river, New West Street, West Street and Diecui Street was filled with hotels, hostels, bars, restaurants, bike rental shops, kitch t-shirt shops, shops selling all of the accoutrements of the international backpacking set (i.e. headscarves, flowing cotton skirts, cheap jewelry and indian print tank tops), old ladies selling postcards (quite enthusiastically), old ladies collecting recyclables (often before you've finished your water/coke/etc.), one annoying old man with his wood flute, on which he knows only one song - haunting the first time you hear it, but extremely annoying the 50th time, tour agents, bank machines, ice cream stands, etc. etc. The approximately 6 blocks of tourist area is absolutely crammed full of every possible thing that the residents could come up with as a mode of separating foreign devils from their currency.

As a tourist, I can not be so hypocritical as to deride the commercialization of this small town, considering that I contributed to the problem. I bought silk scarves, ice cream, tours, and bad food along with everyone else. However, I believe that I was one of the few Westerners not charmed by the veneer of Western sybarism over the rural beauty spot. After you've been to a few backpacker hotspots, watching 20 year olds get wildly drunk in the streets to the blaring of outdated Western music loses a bit of its charm.

On Day 2, I took the requisite bike ride into the rice paddies. I rode out to Moon Hill, and the Water Cave (but did not actually go in for a mud bath), then past them on a side road. What I got was an intense sunburn, a lungful of fertilizer and air pollution, and the sight of poor farmers performing the same functions that poor farmers do throughout the entire world. The crop might be rice instead of beans, but the basic premise is the same. A great deal of hard labor under intense sun, interspersed with periods of extreme boredom. The small village settlements were quagmires of stagnant humanity. The rural Chinese are not allowed by the government to move to the city. They are condemned to continue living the same lifestyle enjoyed by their great grandparents. Yes, it's quaint to watch an old man hand till a field with the aid of a water buffalo, but would you want to do it? It's charming that children are running around half naked in the dirt, but is that what you'd want for your own children? Sorry, but while actually riding my bike in the countryside, the heat, bugs and odors made me feel intensely sorry for the people who are fated to live this way. It was a shocking reminder that being born in the United States (or, even better, in Scandinavia) is equivalent to being a SuperLotto winner every day.

Then, I went up above the stink and the filth, and took a hot air balloon ride. Wow! The whole thing takes on another perspective from the air. Suddenly, the backbreaking labor takes on the appearance of manicured waves of green fields. The odor is gone. The bugs can't touch us. Everywhere I look is beauty. The fields, the river, the people so far below performing their miniature tasks. I watched a woman spray her fields with insecticide and found it marvelous. I spied on bamboo rafts floating down the river and was filled with wonder. From above, Yangshuo was a place of mystical beauty. The karst peaks are reaching for the sky and casting long shadows on the toy villages beneath.

I loved it. I was up for an hour, and I wanted to go on forever. Actually, I only paid for a half an hour, because when the tour guide tried to tell me that there was only a trip for an hour, costing 600 yuan, that there wasn't a 480 quai 1/2 hour trip that day, I said, "Fine. Never mind then." The tour purveyors invariably try to pull fast ones on you. I wasn't buying that there was no 1/2 hour trip, and felt vindicated when suddenly, a 1/2 hour trip was available. Funny. It turned out that there really was only an hour trip available. The girl who picked me up asked me to please tell the other two tourists that I paid 750 yuan for one hour, just in case they happened to ask. Yes, I felt a little bad that those two had been ripped off, but mostly, I was happy to have actually gotten a good deal in Yangshuo.

After the hot air balloon ride, I raced over to another tour outfit to go cormorant fishing. I'll admit, I mostly wanted to go on this trip because I saw Anthony Bourdain do it on his "No Reservations" show and it looked fun. It was amazing! I enjoyed it much more than he seemed to. How it worked was, it was night, very dark. About 20 tourists were loaded onto a long barge with a put-put motor. We put-putted along the Li River until we saw a light. We drew closer and came upon a bamboo raft, poled by the fisherman, with a lamp overhanging the water in front to illuminate the actions of a crew of eight cormorants. We drew alongside and that's when I realized that I had the absolute best seat in the boat. I was in front, behind the driver, next to an open window, on the same side that the raft was on. Other people were crowded in trying to see bits and pieces while I had the best view in the house.

The birds entertained us by racing along before the raft, occasionally diving and swimming underwater. For a good 10 minutes, that was the whole show. Then, we hit fish. Suddenly, every 30 seconds, a bird was emerging from the water with a struggling fish in its mouth. The cormorant would tilt back its head and swallow the prize whole. However, the fisherman had a string tied around each bird's neck. This string constricted the bird's throat so that the fish did not go all the way to the digestive tract. Instead, the fish(es) would stay put in the man-made crop until the fisherman pulled the birds in one by one by the string and forced them to regurgitate the fish. The birds were not damaged by this operation and didn't even seem too bothered by it. They all appeared healthy and happy and well fed. Each bird costs $100 US, so the fisherman has incentive to keep them in good health.

After watching the fishing for another 20 minutes or so, we pulled onto a sandbar and were able to take turns holding one of the birds. They have green eyes - green with a hint of blue. They are heavy with webbed feet and a strong grip. The cormorants also entertained us by sneaking up to the basket containing the evening's catch and trying to steal back a fish or two. While the fisherman was forcing one bird to cough up (literally) its illicit gains, another bird would sneak around to nab a fish. Very amusing. I absolutely loved it.

That concludes Days 1 and 2 in Yangshuo. The next entry will cover kayaking, the Impressions light show, and the small incident of the baby cockroaches in the night.

For pics, please see http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/GuilinYangshuo

Guilin - the scorned and maligned

2007-09-19T19:27:00.000-07:00

Lonely Planet China is quite scathing about Guilin. Their summary of the city is, 'get yourself to Yangshuo as quickly as possible, 'cause Guilin sucks'. This is of course my paraphrase, but it accurately sums up LP's description of the city on the Li River. It's interesting because Guilin and Yangshuo share the same beautiful karst topography. Guilin is actually closer to the famous Longsheng Rice Terraces (no, I didn't go see them - I'm covered with shame). They are both on the beautiful Li river. The difference is that Yangshuo is rural(ish), while Guilin is undeniably a city.

I arrived in Guilin with this preformed opinion, courtesy of the backpacker's Bible. Thus, I was pleasantly surprised by what I found. First, the airport shuttle was a dream. It dropped us off near the train station, from whence I was easily able to catch a cab to my hostel. I only had to try 2 cabbies before getting one to go by the meter instead of trying to set an inflated price in advance, and he only took a couple of minor detours on the way there to boost the metered price, equaling maybe an extra quai. That's the best experience I've had with cabs in China.

At my hostel, I was checked in to a charming dorm room for my one night in Guilin. There, I discovered one of the interesting power saving ideas in China. All hostels that I've been to in the south issue a magnetic key card to get into your room. This key card must then be inserted into a slot by the door (inside the room) before the lights will activate. This effectively prevents people from leaving lights and air conditioners activated when they've gone out for the day. That, or they have to leave their key behind. Great idea.

I dumped my bag and then headed out to find sustenance. I was in search of Rosemary's Cafe, supplier of the city's finest Western food, according to LP. Well, the authors of LP might believe that the pinnacle of Western culinary art was reached with the invention of the frozen pizza, but I'd have to disagree. I finished my soggy mess of a "pizza" and then went wandering around a bit. There was a charming covered market area quite near to my hostel that was very entertaining, and then I stumbled on a massage storefront. I decided that I did have some time to spare for a quick 90 minute foot and shoulder massage.

Oh my. That was my first real foot massage and I am an addict. It was incredible. The shoulder massage was OK, but the foot massage!!! Wow. First, I had a foot bath with mineral salts. Then, each foot was in turn rubbed with warming lotion firmly (almost painfully) massaged, with special attention to the main pressure points that supposedly connect to my kidneys, etc. I could feel my arches perking up. After so much walking, quite often while carrying a 30 pound pack, it was heaven. Then, when I thought we were done, she applied a foot and calf mud mask! Crazy. I must admit that when it came off, my feet were very soft. :)

After my little interlude at the foot spa, I went down to the Li river. There, I watched people swimming, fishing, and bathing. It was so hot that I was quite tempted to grab my swim suit and join in. Then, I took a closer look at the film of scum and detritus floating on the water, and decided to vicariously enjoy the river. I crossed a bridge to the other bank and continued on to Qixing Gongyuan (Seven Star park), one of Guilin's nicest spots. The park is named after the seven peaks it contains which form a pattern resembling the big dipper. It is 297 acres of parkland containing streams, bridges, pagodas, caves, a zoo, and numerous scenic areas. I really really loved it. My favorite was the peak that looks like a dromedary camel from one side and a bactrian camel from the other. Amazing! Best of all, on the bactrian side, there's a huge plaque saying that Bill Clinton gave a speech at that site. As a loyal Clintonite, I got a big kick out of that.

After a lovely time wandering the paths, taking photos, and saying "hello, hello" to children who were prompted to talk to the nice foreign lady by parents and grandparents proud of their progeny's English skill, I decided to watch the sunset from one of the peaks. Logically, I chose to follow the sign that said scenic lookout pagoda. Sounds good. I huffed and puffed up the steep path, surprising a millipede around one turn - they are really disgusting in person by the way. I finally reached the top to find that the pagoda was surrounded by foliage. There was not a chance of seeing the sunset from there. Drat! I climbed back down and only then did I notice the perfect viewing platform at the top of the next peak. Nope. I decided that there would be other sunsets and that I could enjoy this one from the Flower Bridge instead.

I left the park and wandered out into a city seething with rush hour traffic. I will never get over the fact that in China, rush hour means bicycles. Huge hordes of bicycles backed up for city blocks. Amazing. There are plenty of cars and trucks as well, but most people get around on two wheeled devices - some motorized, some not. I fought my way back to the bridge over the Li River and spent a little time playing with a Hui baby and buying chestnut candy from her father. Interesting. Then, it was back to the market for dinner and an internet cafe, then to the hostel for sleep. I had to be up and ready to go at 8am for my Li River cruise, so it was early to bed for me.

I only had that one day and night in Guilin, but it was lovely. Maybe I just did all that there is to do in the city and thus would have been bored to tears by another day or two there, but honestly, I wouldn't have minded staying. There still seemed to be lots to do there, not least a trip to the rice terraces. Best of all, it was close to good food; there were no cockroaches; and people weren't constantly trying to cheat me. Oops, I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Read my next entry to find my opinion of the great tourist Mecca of Yangshuo.

For the pics, see http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/GuilinYangshuo

The Leshan Buddha and some Weighty News

2007-09-15T03:19:00.000-07:00

Dafo, the great stone Buddha at the convergence of the Min, Qingyi, and Dadu rivers in Leshan is largest remaining Buddha statue in the world, now that the Taliban destroyed Afghanistan's giant Buddhas. He stands 71 meters high, and has shoulders as wide as a basketball court. The statue was begun in 713, and work ended in 803 CE. This 90 year long project included a highly sophisticated drainage system that has allowed Dafo to remain in such excellent condition for 1200 years. The statue was built in the hope that the Buddha would calm the river and prevent fatal boating accidents. Oddly enough, it worked, though only because the rubble from the massive carving filled in the river bed, slowing the course of the rivers near Leshan. The project was initiated by a monk called Hai Tong who reportedly gouged out an eye rather than surrender the funds he'd raised to pay for the Buddha to government officials.

I began my path toward enlightenment at 9am at the hostel. There, I, along with Maria (Budapest); Tim (Australia); Marisa (Netherlands); and Claudia (Florida)boarded a hostel minibus out to Leshan. The drive took 3 hours and passed in painfully cramped positions due to the true mini-sized-bus' lack of leg room. We arrived at the site at noon and arranged to meet our driver at 3:30pm for the ride back to town.

First, we took the boat ride past the Buddha. Supposedly, it's possible to get a local fisherman to take you there for 1 yuan and an enhanced experience. When we got there, there was a dearth of fishermen and a queue to buy 50 y tickets for the cruise ship. We joined the queue and made the most of our position at the railing to see the Buddha. The best views are from the river, and he really is an amazing feat. Speaking of feet, I love his toes!!! They are humongous, as tall as a Westerner. So adorable!

After the boat, we decided that we really had to still make the climb down and around and up the other side of the statue. A trip to Leshan wouldn't be complete without that experience. First though, we stopped in one of the temples and took oodles of pictures and continued our quest for enlightenment. I took a step along the path right off of one of the temple steps when a Chinese man shoved me off the stair in his effort to pass me. I must say that though I know he is only an illusion, that illusion has pretty solid elbows, and the illusion of the bruise on my knee reminds me of him every day.

From there, we went toward the set of stone steps carved into the cliff. Oops, I guess that we shouldn't have spent so long in the temple, the line was enormous. We were there at peak time. We got in line at 1:30, and finally got down to the Buddha's feet at 3 o'clock. The intervening time was spent fighting not to be passed by the pushing mass of people behind us. Chinese people in general are very nice. One odd quirk is their disinclination to wait in line. Instead, those who can do it push to the front of the line. They don't give up either. I spent the entire hour and a half fighting the constant shoving of one particular woman. Her favorite trick was to press the entire front of her body against me. Ick! Finally, Marisa came up with the idea of keeping our umbrellas open regardless of whether it was raining or not. These served as effective shields, and we were delivered from queue jumpers.

Eventually, we'd climbed down all of the stairs and were standing between the legs of the Buddha. It was worth it. Barely, but worth it. The wait, the struggle, they were all just bumps along the 8-fold path.

After all of that striving, once we achieved the Buddha, the only thing left was to climb back up the cliff and rendezvous with our driver. It was a little past 3:30, closer to 4, and none of us had eaten since breakfast. We'd been too busy, and then there wasn't anything to eat. We unanimously asked the driver to please stop at a restaurant. He vetoed us. I'm not quite sure why. We returned to the hostel at 6pm without having eaten since 8am. We were ravenous.

Tim declined to join us (he wanted a massage instead), but the rest of us headed out in search of food. When I'd visited the Wenshu monastery the previous day, I'd seen a sign that said the restaurant was open 'til 7:30pm. Lonely Planet disagreed, but I was going with the sign. We got there, found the open side gate with a monk to take our 5 yuan entrance fee. We even found a helpful nun from the nearby Buddhist convent who verified that the restaurant was open. What we didn't find was an open restaurant. They'd closed early that night. I've no clue why, but they did. We spent another hour fruitlessly roaming the district, finding only fancy tourist restaurants specializing in frog legs and pig's feet, or grotty looking noodle shops that none of us felt like patronizing. Eventually, we lucked onto another vegetarian restaurant. Amazing. Of course, the food there was not nearly as delicious as the monastery food, since they were serving just tourists, not a combination of holy monks and tourists. It was still good. We tried a wide variety of dishes and enjoyed about 30% of them. The rest were 'interesting'.

After dinner, on our way out of the restaurant, we encountered a scale. Just for the hell of it, I stepped on. People who've commented that I look thinner in my photos are quite perspicacious. I've lost 15 pounds. Crap! I knew that my clothes were loose, but I had no idea how much weight I'd lost. I've found the perfect weight loss diet. First, ride the TransMongolian train as a vegetarian. Second, hike all day, barely eating anything for weeks on end. Third, regularly eat food that you don't particularly like so that you don't eat very much of it.

I now have permission to eat as much ice cream as I want!

That night, Marisa and I spent some time hanging out, then I needed to pack my bag to be ready for my flight to Guilin. Jasper and Pauline (the people who'd booked the airport shuttle) were booked on the same flight out, so we planned to share a cab in the morning. Funny traveller coinky dink. I had a wonderful time in Chengdu, despite rain and starvation. I recommend it highly if you find yourself in this part of the world. Thank you, Mix Hostel!

You can find my Chengdu/Leshan photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/PandasOhAndTheWorldSLargestBuddha and a special addition panda album at http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/PandaFlipbook

Changing my luck through the power of the Panda

2007-09-15T02:03:00.000-07:00

My flight to Chengdu was uneventful. Though I still would have preferred to have taken the train and seen the scenery, I have to admit that it is pleasant to board a plane, and cover in a little over one hour what it would have taken me 16 hours to traverse by train. I even had no problem claiming my window seat! Best of all, after I'd picked up my bag, I literally ran into a man holding a sign that said Mix Hostel. I had been planning to take the airport shuttle and then have the joy of trying to get a cab driver to understand my mangled Chinese to get me to the hostel. Instead, I took advantage of the foresight of Jasper and Pauline, who had actually arranged for airport pickup, and hitched a 20y ride in the hostel minibus. Perfect! Clearly, all that was required by fate was that I leave Xi'an.

At the hostel, I booked my Panda Breeding Center tour, showered, did laundry, ate a huge mound of vegetable fried rice, watched a couple of minutes of Shrek III in English with (I kid you not) Chinglish subtitles, and luxuriated in my first private room of the trip. Ahh, blessed privacy. Silence, security, the ability to sleep knowing that no one is watching me drool. All in all, it was one of the best afternoons of my trip. It's funny how after a month of traveling, what I appreciate the most has shifted from seeing some fabulous UNESCO World Heritage site to washing my clothes in a real washing machine. Priorities.

After a rare 8 hours of sleep, I got up at 6:30am to prepare for our 7:30 trip out to see the pandas. Feeding time is at 9am, and as it is the only point in the day when the pandas will move at all, we didn't want to miss it. Somehow, the rain in Xi'an had followed me to Chengdu, but with the purchase of a 10 yuan umbrella and the attitude of an intrepid explorer, the kind not bothered by a little damp (or drench as the case may be), I set off to see some panda bears.

Fortunately, pandas are far too lazy to be all that bothered by a little rain. An animal that is too lazy to breed really doesn't worry too much about sleeping in a puddle. In all, including the newborns, I saw 11 pandas during my time at the breeding center. This included two newborns (the "season of love" aka artificial insemination was in May), 2 kindergartners, 1 cub, 3 subadults, and 3 adults. After watching these huge cuddly sweethearts, I have to agree with the Chinese government that the giant panda really is the "National Treasure". I went away from the center with an ear to ear grin despite the rain and the lack of photo op for the day. Normally, one can pay about $60 to get a picture taken with an adult giant panda. The day before I went, it was canceled because the pandas had just had shots and were agitated; and the day that I was there, it was canceled due to the rain. So, I can't speak from personal experience as to the viability of the panda photo, but I have seen other people's photos, so I know that it can be done!

We got back from seeing the cuddly creatures at 11. I also really appreciated that they didn't drag it out into a full day tour, like the terracotta tour in Xi'an. Though, where would they have taken us for the factory section? A genetics lab?

After getting dropped at the hostel, I set straight off for the Wenshu monastery (one of the top four zen monasteries) and its Buddhist vegetarian restaurant. Oh my buddha! It was amazing. Hundreds of choices. I wanted to try them all but settled for three wonderful dishes and a glass of gooseberry juice that blended the flavors perfectly and had herbs to aid digestion. Mostly, eating Chinese food day in and day out has reminded me of why I usually only eat Chinese once a month or so. I don't really like it. This meal made me realize that Chinese cuisine really is amazing, the fact is that most fine chefs don't waste their true abilities on tourists. I'm sticking to the monasteries from now on!

After the best meal that I've had in China, I ambled home via the grocery store and then along the river. I love shopping in China. Things are so odd. For example, the grocery store is called TrustMart and is pretty much a Walmart. It's in a 3-story building and in no way resembles a grocery store. At street level, all you see are jewelry and shoe booths inside the building. However, if you penetrate further into the building, you'll find a second entrance in to the grocery section. The fruit is abundant, though I walked quickly past the durian. The bread is a blessing. Western travellers are unanimous in missing bread the most. I miss real whole grain bread. Even the wheat bread here has the texture of white bread at home. Seeing the food that a people buys is as valid a sightseeing adventure as is seeing a monument made 2000 years ago. Even more fun was heading upstairs to the dry goods area. I regretfully decided that the shipping on that duvet cover was going to be too much, looked over the really nice electronics section, and headed back for toiletries. There, I learned that all Chinese face creams seem to have bleach in them - white is in - yet it's very hard to find a day cream with sun screen. Strange. Odder yet is the complete lack of availability of an antiperspirant. There are deoderants. Roll-on liquid deoderants. Ones with the scent of roses, oranges, or mango. Somehow, I've never imagined myself with mango scented underarms. I settled for "fresh scent" and rued the stick deoderant that I'd left at home.

Shopping done, I headed by the Bank of China to find that my ATM card still wasn't working. Then, I settled into my private room to enjoy Diana Wynne Jones' sequel to Howl's Moving Castle which I'd found in the hostel book exchange. Do you know how hard to find that book is??? I swear, hostel book exchanges have the best books. Mostly 'cause they've been left to sit for years on end. No one will ever throw one out, in the hope that someday, some crazy foreigner will buy the shredded up book. This practice also preserves some real gems.

After finishing my book, I watched some Chinese soap opera with two fellow single female travellers, and booked my ride out to the Leshan Buddha for the next day. The soap was set during the revolutionary war. It was interesting to see what's considered romantic in China.

Then, Christine was tucked all snug in her beds (I had 2 twin beds in my room) while visions of panda bears danced in her head.

You can find my Chengdu/Leshan photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/PandasOhAndTheWorldSLargestBuddha and a special addition panda album at http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/PandaFlipbook

Hua Shan and the Great Disaster

2007-09-14T05:54:00.000-07:00

Hua Shan is one of China's five holy Taoist mountains. It is made up of North, South, East, West and Central peaks of varying heights - all around 2,000m. It's about a 2-hour drive outside of Xi'an. Sounds good right?

Well, I followed the Bible's advice (backpackers refer to the Lonely Planet guide as the Bible) and went to the train station to catch a minibus to the mountain. I succeeded in finding the right bus, with the right characters in the window, and an English boy loitering nearby. Great! Then, the English boy told me that he had been there for an hour and a half. At one point, there had been 10 people assembled who all wanted to go to Hua Shan. The driver wouldn't go without 20 people. Period. It didn't seem to bother him in the slightest that this meant it was likely that he wouldn't make any money that day. He was happy sitting in the shade of his van, smoking cigarettes. After waiting for an hour, everyone but the Brit boy left, yelling at the driver as they decamped.

I'd been there for about 15 minutes when a group of 3 more tourists showed up. We were now: Christine (30, US); Michael (18, UK); Barbara (27, US); Kristof (21, Germany); and Alon (21, Israel). Kristof had been in China for a year studying the language and after some group discussion and 20 minutes of fruitless waiting, he went off to research: trains, taxis, and private minibuses. In the end, he found a minibus that would hold 7 and cost 350. Now, we needed 2 more people. Kristof went into the bus and came out with a young Chinese couple who also were tired of waiting for the world's laziest bus driver. By then, there were 11 people waiting to go to Hua Shan, but the driver didn't seem bothered in the slightest to be losing another set of customers. I did feel bad for the 4 people left waiting to be joined by 16 others.

The drive was fine, passed in general discussion. I think that most young backpackers get a huge kick out of being able to be a temporary expert on their country. The information exchanged in these chats is suspect, but it's still fun to hear someone else's worldview. At the site, we were dropped off at the Western entrance, to climb the mountain. First though, the Chinese couple invited us to lunch. Hah! Another life goal crossed off of the list. I have been invited out to eat in China. There was loads of food and tea. Many vegetarian options. I also learned that it's considered rude to stick your chopsticks in a bowl of rice. Who knew?

With heavy bellies, we set off to be holy seekers after wisdom. The first hour or two was a nice, gentle, easy ascent on a paved road on the side of a stream that became a gorge. There were plenty of shops/cafes along the way, each of which had its own dog or cat. There were also temples, caves, and other points of interest. Then, we slowed down. Barbara is quite petite (short legs) and a smoker, so she did not move very fast. The delay at the station and then our banquet had pushed us back so that we'd only started at 4. There was no question, we'd be hiking at night. Not to worry though, many locals prefer to walk at night, starting at around 11pm and arriving in time for the sunrise.

The path became steeper. Stairs and stairs and temples and more stairs. We made it to the north peak. It was around 8 and fully dark and we decided that we all (Barbara voted with the group) felt like continuing on. We made for the Central Peak as the closest hostel site. After 2 and a half hours in which we went up stairs so steep and treacherous that we had to use all four limbs to ascend them, and many smoke breaks for B, we arrived at the hostel to find it no longer operating as a place of rest. It was 10:30 and we were no longer feeling quite so perky. We trudge off to the East Peak, hitting even steeper stairs along the way. Luckily, all of the stairs had chain railings to hold onto during the climb.

We finally made the peak. Of course, we'd been aiming for a hostel, not the peak. Obeying the "no jumping" sign at the top, we all collapsed and waited for Kristof to go find the hostel and report back. He really got a huge kick out of being the go-to guy. He wouldn't allow anyone except our Chinese friend to accompany him. Anyway, they found the temple/hostel and we arrived, had dried noodles, and were all asleep by one o'clock.

This was quite late considering that the main thing that one climbs a Taoist mountain to do is watch the sunrise. Sunrise was at 6am in early to mid-September. We got up at 5:30, had a wet wipe bath or not as each individual preferred, and headed back to the peak.

There are 4 factories grouped around Hua Shan. This results in a permanent haze around the base of the mountain. This made for a slightly disappointing sunrise. It was beautiful - I was thrilled to be there experiencing that moment, but man, as sunrises go, that one was a dud. I did get some great cloud pictures though, so all was not lost.

After the main event, we settled in for a breakfast of crackers, mooncakes, and dried kiwi. The discussion turned to a blanket condemnation of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) and Michael started raving about political prisoners. Yes, you're supposed to be passionate when you're 18. No, you're not expected to be precisely well-informed. It was still incredibly boring to listen to at 30. I've had those discussions. They were about the Middle East, but same difference. I found that I had no desire to engage and instead, I bid adieu to my chums of the climb. I was heading back early anyway to catch my 8pm train from Xi'an. They planned to stay all day, hiking and possibly staying another night, so we would have separated soon in any case.

Within 10 minutes, I'd found a toilet and a cup of coffee, decision affirmed. I made it down to the north peak, and lingered there, climbing the whale at the top of the peak and posing for pictures. I really wonder what people are going to do with all of those pictures of me. Then, I took the cable car back down the mountain, arriving at the eastern entrance. From there, I got the shuttle bus to the visitor's center, took a taxi to the Xi'an bus location, caught the bus going to Xi'an and snoozed for an hour and a half while being stared at by a local farmer who found my every breath fascinating. The other bus riders were much more polite about staring, and snuck peeks when they thought I wasn't looking.

The bus let us off somewhere in the north of Xi'an. As far as I know, it was nowhere near the train station, my only landmark. I wandered. I tried my bank card, to find that my account was still frozen (questionable activity). I found a woman who spoke English who found a bus for me that went to the South Gate which was where my hostel was located (oh yeah, central Xi'an has city walls, with cardinal gates and streets).

My afternoon was a bit trying, especially on such a limited amount of sleep. OK, back at the hostel, I showered, talked to Greg, went online to make sure that the world hadn't ended, and then, at 4 o'clock, went to pick up my train ticket. I'd booked through the hostel and they hadn't received the ticket until the night before. Since I was hiking the mountain, they held it for me along with my pack. When I asked for my ticket, the girl at the counter located it, looked at it, asked me what time I was supposed to be going, and then started screaming in Chinese to her associates. Finally, she turned to me as said, "I think you'd better hurry!"

"Why, what time is the ticket for?"

"2:30!"

"Umm, then there's no point in my hurrying, is there?"

"Oh."

"What do you suggest that I do? I booked an 8pm soft sleeper, here's my receipt."

It turned out that there were no sleeper train tickets to be had for the next three days. The girl tried to convince me to buy a hard seat ticket and upgrade on the train. Hah! No one can upgrade on the train. It's a myth created to get annoying tourists out of travel agent's hair. I've spoken to quite a number of travelers who've been told to upgrade on the train only to spend 20 hours sitting in a seat in a carriage filled with Chinese people staring at the crazy foreigner who doesn't know enough to get a sleeper ticket. I declined the hard seat and asked what my options were, emphasizing that this was their fault.

In the end, I got a plane ticket for the morning, using my deposit for the train ticket toward that, and a comped dorm bed for the night. I tried for a single, but the best that I could do was a dorm. I quietly stated, repeatedly I'm afraid, "I am not happy." That was my experience with Shuyuan Hostel. I'm afraid that I absolutely would not recommend it to anyone. Crappy rooms, awful tours, and inept travel booking services.

I slept, felt a little better in the morning, had a big breakfast, and set off to reboard the airport shuttle and head off to Chengdu. Hopefully, a change of scenery will change my luck.

For my pics of Xi'an, please visit http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/XiAn

Xi'an - The Terracotta Army, the Muslim Quarter & the Big Wild Goose Pagoda

2007-09-11T05:32:00.000-07:00

The terracotta army in Xi'an. A 2000 year old collection of over 8000 warriors protecting China's first true Emperor. I can't tell you how many classes I've taken that have referenced this 8th wonder of the world. The terracotta army has to be right up there with Egypt's pyramids as the most elaborate necropolis ever. The sheer wealth of the emperor, to be able to force his subjects to create on such a grand scale. Amazing.
http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/XiAn

So, there was no question about whether or not I'd be going to Xi'an. Some locations are maybes, some are nos, Xi'an was an unquestioned yes. I flew in, collected my bag (first off the plane), and jumped on the shuttle bus. There, a funny thing happened. Some girl tried to elbow me aside to get a ticket for the bus - there are always more people than tickets for the shuttle bus, so elbowing is required - and I said, "Hey! no shoving me aside!" She spoke a little English and thought that this was hysterical, so she saved me a prime seat at the front of the bus. We talked during the hour long ride into Xi'an's center. Assertiveness really is a positive trait in China.

I was dropped off at the end of the shuttle line in front of the Melody Hotel. I had an address and directions to Shuyuan Hostel, but no clue as to the distance involved and it was sprinkling, so I tried to get a cab. No luck in getting a cabbie to understand where I wanted to go. I swear, I was pronouncing everything correctly. I think that cab drivers just can't understand anything coming from a Westerner. They're distracted by our strange colored hair. So, I set off on foot. This was actually quite nice. I was walking along South Street on a Friday night. There was lots of neon, loads of people and amazing things to look at.

I found my hostel, and it was a lovely 3 story 3 courtyard complex. Beautiful. Before even dumping my bag, I got myself booked onto a Terracotta tour for the next day. Priorities. :) Then, the trouble started. I went down to my $3/night dorm room. Down, because the room was in the basement level. That's fine, I'm only sleeping in my room, I don't really need natural light. However, walking down the stairs, I was met by overpowering varnish fumes. They were remodeling the hostel and the fumes were intense. OK. I can handle it. I open the door to find two sets of bunk beds, a desk and a concrete floor covered in a 2-5 mm thick layer of sediment and old cigarette butts. Yuck. OK, I'm still dealing. I settle in to go to sleep. That's when the swarm of mosquitos struck. Crap. I was too tired to deal with changing rooms that night, so I suffered through it, arising at 8:30 for my tour with relief. I vowed not to spend another night there. This was reinforced by my need to climb upstairs and down a courtyard to use the toilet in the middle of the night. Horrid.

The horrendous night behind me with only 2 mosquito bites to show for it (thank you citronella), I set off with singing spirit for the Terracotta Army. The tour left at 9:40am and I couldn't believe that I was really going to be there in person. Well, I wouldn't actually get there for another few hours. This was a tour in the classic sense of the word. This wasn't transit to the site with a guide once we were there, this was an actual tour. For those who are fortunate enough not to have taken a tour, these fabulous itineraries always include 4 things: 1) the major draw, the thing that people book the tour to see; 2) a lesser draw, something kind of interesting but that you wouldn't go to see if it wasn't included in the tour; 3) a factory/folk art site, the place where people still practice traditional craft relating to the major draw; 4) the restaurant, someone's cousin's place that offers an incentive to the tour company to bring in the tourists.

This tour started out visiting the lesser site, Ban Po village. It's an Neolithic archaeological site near Xi'an that is vaguely interesting. Some nice old pottery, local farmer's art and strange depressions in the ground that we were told were actually the location of houses and ceremonial sites. There were also some graves containing skeletons from 4000 BCE. Cool. That was relatively painless. Our guide, Jia Jia was also a complete sweetie and made the whole thing almost fun.

Next was the Terracotta factory, where modern day Chinese workers churn out Terracotta warriors for people's shelves and gardens. They range from a couple of inches high to larger than life sized. This was slightly interesting. We were taught how the original figures were made, molds for the body, air drying of the Li mountain clay, kiln firing, hand smoothing and painting, and then the insertion of the separate head. The heads were made individually because each was unique, whereas the bodies are only in 4 types: officer, soldier, archer, horseman. All of this was good background info, but we were ready to go see the real thing. Then came the hard sell. We were led into the warehouse of warriors and lacquered furniture and let loose to hopefully be tempted into buying a keepsake at their inflated prices. They misjudged their targets. We are BACKPACKERS! We're cheap. Not one of us was likely to drop $2,000 US on a lacquered table, or $10,000 US on a larger-than-life-sized terracotta general.

Next on the agenda was lunch. This was when the revolt happened. Led by a likely fella from London, we collectively declined to go to lunch and requested immediate relocation to the Terracotta Army. Flushed with victory, we were quite happy during the one hour drive to the location. Until...we pulled into a hotel parking lot. Hmm, I could have sworn that the tour site didn't have a hotel. It turns out that 2 of our number had quietly indicated that they were hungry, and those 2 outvoted the remaining 8. That was a pitiful revolt. Most of us settled into our nice buffet like proper tourists. The Londoner and a man from Malta were hold-outs, eating their crisps in the lobby until we were done.

Finally, at 2pm, after hours and hours of being driven around and being force-fed both knowledge and lunch, we arrived at the site.

Wow! The army is certainly not up there with the Wall in terms of staggering works of mankind, but I think that #8 in the list is just about right. First, we watched a movie shown in a 9 screen 360 degree cinema. This was a full historical, costume adventure story of the first emperor of the Qin dynasty and his creation of the terracotta army. We were told that the reason he was so cruel was that he ate mercury to extend his life. Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect along with the impairment of his mental faculties. Having been insane and cruel, possibly necessary qualities in a man who would conquer and unite the 6 states that became China, Qin Shihuang decided that he would need some back-up in the afterlife. Thus, the Army. It is unbelievable.

The figures were partially ruined and thoroughly smashed only 2 years after the emperor's death when General Xiang Yu led/participated in a peasant uprising that took out part of its aggression on the funerary arrangements of the emperor. It's interesting that Qin Shihuang had his people so terrorized that it took them 2 years to recover enough spirit to wreck his clay army. It's interesting that I never knew the army was found in pieces. All of what we see today has been painstakingly assembled by the shattered remains left behind after the rioters had finished. Also, originally the figures were painted. There is enough chemical residue to know that the faces were pink, the clothes blue and green and the arms were brown, but no visible paint survived the passing millenia. So cool!!!

I could enthuse some more, but I'm sure you get the point. It was quite nice. :)

After getting back (5ish), I agreed to meet Julie and Andrew (from Dublin) in the hostel lobby at 8 to go see the water and light show at the Big Wild Goose Pagoda. Even after showering and changing, that still left loads of time. I made the most of it by heading off to the Muslim Quarter. There's an area of Xi'an that has had a Chinese Muslim (Hui) population since the late 8th century. It contains a great mosque and numerous street food vendors. Seeing ethnic Chinese women wearing head scarves is very odd. Nothing wrong with it, just odd.

The street food was primarily meaty. I did have a delicious sticky rice hemisphere on a stick with fruit syrup, and then had to head back to the hostel to meet my Irish friends. We took the bus out to the Big Goose Pagoda; yes, there is in fact also a Little Wild Goose Pagoda, but not a medium-sized one. There, we dawdled, trying to get a picture of the pagoda at night. Tricky. I had to use my kids & pets setting with no flash and even then, it blurred. Suddenly, the show was starting and the pavilion was packed. We'd left it too late and without a display of incredibly adept shoving, there was no way we'd get the spot we'd intended to watch the show from. Instead, we went around the side.

Imagine a football field. Now divide it into sections. Each section is about 20' long and runs the width of the field. These areas are divided by a 4' wide strip on which people are crowded. Each section is filled with water jets, at the base of which are multicolored lights. At one end of the field, there is a massive main fountain area which is an extra 20 feet wide on either side. There are huge loudspeakers playing instrumental music, and looking over the whole extravaganza is a seven-story Buddhist temple dating to 652 CE and anecdotally linked to the religious merits of vegetarianism. Sidetrack: the story goes that a group of Buddhist monks ate meat regularly. Then, one day they couldn't find meat and so a monk said, "I hope the merciful Bodhisattva will give us some meat." At that moment, a wild goose flying by broke his wings and fell at the monk's feet. Now, a Christian would have taken that to be an answer to prayer and cooked that goose quicker than a wink. This group of monks instead decided that Bodhisattva was ordering them to be more pious. They started building a pagoda where the goose fell and they all stopped eating meat.

All in all, this was an event made to appeal to me. After hanging by the sidelines for a bit, I noticed that the center pedestrian strips were emptying out. Apparently, the locals didn't feel like getting splashed by the fountains. This was a Saturday night and everyone in the city seemed to be here, so finding that empty spot was miraculous. The three of us headed out and watched the remainder of the show from the midst of it. People, especially children and teenagers were daring each other to run through the fountains, trying to time it to avoid getting splashed. It was a giant party.

The party eventually ended and then I was off to Pizza Hut for dinner. Yes, I know. Pitiful. By now, though, it's a tradition. I visit a Pizza Hut in every country that I spend more than a few days in. It's my comfort food. It's the one thing I can count on to taste the same no matter where I happen to be. Also, I hadn't eaten since my forced buffet experience and was starving!

After gulping down my pizza, I went back home to change rooms (my new room was right above the bar, but I have earplugs), go to sleep and get ready for climbing one of China's five Taoist mountains, Hua Shan.

Best of Beijing

2007-09-10T19:27:00.001-07:00

Fitness Oriented Populace:
Everywhere I went, there were people exercises, playing physical games, dancing etc. I saw:
Cricket, croquet, tennis, dancing, hacky sack, tai chi, cycling, jogging, kung fu practice, handstands, and just people walking.

Many methods of Cycling:
My fave were the people riding pillion on bicycles. You'd see young couples out for a date on one bike with the girl riding sidesaddle on the back of the bike. Parents ride with children in back, people transport all manner of goods using their bikes. They wear slickers in the rain and visors in the sun. There are crowds of bicycles everywhere you go. It's wonderful.

Driving:
Cars, bicycles and pedestrians all share the streets. There are many dedicated bike lanes but crossing the street is a bit difficult. Cars will start turning despite the pedestrians and bikes still crossing. The cars and trucks will just slowly edge their way through the crowd. Cars don't stay in lanes either. Lanes are just suggestions. Whoever is biggest gets the right of way. Buses are faster than cabs because they just bully their way through traffic. Drivers just assume that other cars will get out of their way.

Accent:
The Beijing accent is wonderful. Everyone sounds slightly cartoonish, as if they are tightening their vocal cords while speaking. The arrrrr sound is particularrrly distinctive. It's actually very pleasant to hear.

My rock star status:
Tall and blond, I am an object of interest to people. On the street and on the bus, people take pictures of me with their cell phones. On the wall, they'd request photos with me. I'm not sure what they will do with those photos, but I've been immortalized. Nice.

The Summer Gardens, Kung Fu & Massage

2007-09-10T18:58:00.000-07:00

On Thursday, I spent a lazy morning online, then had Indian food (delicious) with Fergus before the two of us headed off the the Summer Palace and Gardens. Fergus is the rugged sort of backpacker, so there was no question but that we'd take the bus, or buses as the case actually was. We caught the first bus, under my admirable leadership, with no problem. Then Fergus took the reins firmly in hand, decided that the directions given at the hostel were inadequate and proudly used his 20 words of Chinese to find a different bus than we were told to take that would get us to the palace. Great work! Or, it would have been if he hadn't landed us on the local bus that took an indirect route to the Palace rather than the express bus that we were told to take. ARGH! I had been enjoying the experience of not being the one to research and figure things out and deal with talking to people, but this was a good reminder that when I screw up, I'm only mad at myself. When someone else screws up, it's much more aggravating.

We finally got to the gardens at 3:30. We needed to be on a bus back to the hostel at 5 for me to catch my kung fu show, so we did a whirlwind run up the Hill of Longevity. The Gardens are a huge complex of wilderness and lakes with pagodas and palaces scattered throughout the grounds, hidden from each other. Each spot seems isolated from the world, though there were also wonderful views of modern Beijing in the distance.

Fergus and I wandered as much as we could and then started back. We'd taken photos, run into two more people from the train - I'd also run into some at the Wall, my hostel, and the Forbidden City. Really, it's like each train and plane disperses a horde of insectoid tourists who all follow the scent markers that previous tourists left along the trail. We all go to the same places, generally in the same order.

Anyway, we started back toward the bus. Fergus still stopped to take pictures, though we were in a hurry. This prompted my photo composition of Fergus taking a photo of a pagoda as two points of a triangle, with a giant rock making up the third point. A stinging commentary on his stubborness. :) We eventually got back to the hostel, an hour late for my kung fu show. Fergus had been a decided hindrance the entire way. I was supposed to be there at 6, instead arriving at 5 to 7. When I ran into the hostel, and pantingly asked if I was too late, the girl at the desk laughed and said yes, it was too late. I asked what time the show started. She replied that it started at 7:30. I asked how long it took to get there. She said 45 minutes. I said, great, I don't mind being late. That was that.

I actually arrived 5 minutes before the show started and was so glad to have gone! The kung fu show was really almost operatic. It was the story of "The Pure One", his boyhood, young manhood, descent into temptation, repentance and ascension to the position of abbott of the temple. It was amazing!!! These guys are all much better acrobats than the acrobats. I absolutely loved it. If you're in Beijing, it's at the Red Theater and is truly amazing. Skip the acrobatic show and go straight for the kung fu.

The next day, I was even lazier and spent the whole morning lounging before going to the spa for my $12 80 minute massage and $5 best pedicure of my life. It was so great. I want to have $12 massages at home. Why can't we? Let's issue work permits for more masseuses rather than for computer scientists.

At 4, I needed to leave to get to the airport. I had waited too long to book my train ticket to Xi'an, and all that was left was standing tickets. That was not going to happen. 1st class is the soft sleeper; 2nd is the hard sleeper, still good; then comes the never category of hard seat (just a chair crammed in with the locals) and standing (what it sounds like - if you're lucky, you can try to sleep on the floor). I decided to fly.

The airport is fabulous. Everything is in English and Chinese, and most personnel speak English. I saw lots of monks, including one with a head tattoo talking on a cell phone. I also met a business man from Houston who'd been to 3 cities already that day and was on his way to inspect a 4th steel mill. He told me about the pleasure of eating cockroach and live eel soup. He said that between banquets, he always stopped at McDonalds or KFC.

Beijing airport shuttles passengers out to the tarmac. I loitered, watching the planes, and was one of the last ones to board. I got back to row 24, only to find my precious window seat occupied by a middle-aged Australian woman. I double checked my ticket and said, "Hi, I think that's my seat." Pause, no response. Triple check the ticket. "Yes, 24A, that's my seat." Pause, husband in the center seat glares, woman scowls, "Yeah, but I can still sit here. Right????" This said very pugnaciously as if by sheer force of personality she could quash me into the aisle seat. "Yes, except, that's my seat and I like to sit by the window." Victory. It was funny, she and her husband both acted as if I was entirely rude and unreasonable to want to sit in my own assigned seat that I'd been smart enough to request in advance. Loons.

That victory under my belt, I watched the surprisingly dim lights of Beijing fade into the distance and made my way to Xi'an.

http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Beijing

The (insert superlative here) Wall of China

2007-09-10T18:30:00.000-07:00

The Great Wall of China is just that, GREAT! It was unbelievable. I booked a trip to hike the wall from Jinshanlin to Simatai. It was definitely the best way to see the wall. The old-style way for tourists to see the wall is to go to Badaling which is closer to central Beijing. From people I've spoken to, that is a little disappointing. The hike was more than I'd hoped for, so I'd really recommend the hike.

At 7am, I caught a shuttle bus with the other 15 people booked on the tour. I was the last one on the bus, so got the "undesirable" seat in the back of the bus, in the aisle, sandwiched in with three guys. There was nothing to stop me from flying through the windshield in the case of an accident - no seatbelts or seats in front of me. However, I did have an hour to chat up my seatmates and made friends to hike with. Bonus! It would have been awful to have no one to share my raptures over the wall with. The boys were: Motohiro "Hiro", a controller for a French company in Tokyo; Fergus, a PhD candidate in theoretical astrophysics - also a mountain climber in his spare time; and James a solicitor in London.

At the wall, we discovered that we'd arrived on the day of the Great Wall Marathon! So cool. There were runners doing loops back and forth along the wall. It was amazing. For any marathoners reading this blog, try it! It's the marathon I'm doing if I ever go insane and decide to run a marathon. You just need strong ankles to get you over the rough bits on the wall.

First, my little cadre encountered a problem when we arrived last at the wall to find our group gone and two directions to go in with nothing to indicate which was correct. The map that we were shown before leaving the bus seemed to say go right, while Hiro was sure that we were told to turn left at the wall. Eventually, we ran into other people who all agreed that Simatai was to the left. Just to be contrary, we still hiked right to a tower with a great view of the path we were not taking, then turned around and went toward Simatai. Every time we passed a marathoner, we'd stop to clap and whistle and say, "come on, you can do it!!"

We hiked 6 kilometers of the wall, passing 30 towers. Some bits were restored to smoothness and ease, other patches were a little rougher and even dangerous. One woman had an intense fear of heights and had problems with that. What the entire stretch had in common was breath stopping beauty. Every step was the view of a lifetime. It was unbelievable. I still have to give Petra the top spot for my favorite place ever, but the wall is firmly ensconced in the number two spot. I might be influenced by the endorphin release of the hike and the adrenaline bursts when traversing a tricky descent from a tower, but it was truly amazing. The best bit was, all 4 of us agreed that this was a moment that would never come again, and so we took our time, stopping for photos or just a quiet moment whenever we wanted with no one getting impatient at the stop.

At the end of it all was the zip line down to the car park. AWESOME! It actually didn't go very fast, but the views of the wall and the river were amazing. At the bottom, we caught a boat to take us across the river to the car park to get back on the bus back to Beijing. We were the last to arrive and unapologetic for it.

In Beijing, we all took much needed showers and then went out to an Asian Fusion restaurant for a huge spread of food. Everything was delicious. The asparagus with white water lily buds and carrots there is amazing. We also experienced baiju for the first time. Baiju is the local hard alcohol. At 56% alcohol, it's akin to drinking paint thinner. I took one whiff and declined to partake. The men (after climbing the great wall, a male is allowed to call himself a man according to Chairman Mao) all tried a sip and then Fergus kept the bottle to try washing his shoes with.

Over dinner, we chatted about this that and the other, but kept circling back to the wall. Most things, you can learn about from home. You can visit museums, do interactive tours of the Louvre online, etc. Hiking the Great Wall of China is one of those things that you really need to actually go do. It is an experience that I don't think would be possible to regret.

http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Beijing

China!!! At last!!! Beijing

2007-09-10T06:22:00.000-07:00

Blessed, blessed release. When we finally pulled into Beijing, I was one of the first off of the train. I'd already said my goodbyes and collected email addresses. There was no final lingering on the platform, bidding fond adieus. Nope, I was for a shower, food, and laundry.

The first obstacle to these worthy goals was getting a cab to my hostel. I had taken the precaution of learning to say my street name in Chinese, writing out the address in characters, and circling the location on a map of Beijing. Despite these elaborate preparations, I could not get one single metered cab to admit that he knew where Nan Luo Gu Xiang was. I tried between 10 & 15 before finally giving in and going through a tout. Thus, my entry to Beijing was marked by my needing to pay 70 quai (local for yuan - translates as buck) for my 26 quai ride. I was not pleased, but was so desperate for food and a shower that I didn't mind too horribly.

At my hostel, I was shown to my lovely 8 person dorm. There, I monopolized the bathroom for a good 1/2 hour. I scoured myself. I washed my hair twice. It was heaven. Hot water. Wow.

Then, I packed up almost all of my clothes and dropped them off to be washed. This left me in my pyjama pants, but hey! it's China. Loads of people were wearing pyjama pants. I had no qualms in walking next door to the cafe and getting a huge salad and mozzarella sticks, which for some reason seemed like the perfect meal.

These important tasks completed, I booked my Great Wall hike from Jinshanling to Simatai for Thursday (this was Tuesday), an acrobatics show for Wednesday night and a kung fu show for Friday night. That completed the duty portion of my day. I was now free to goof off online and then hit the hay.

Funny, I actually had a hard time getting my land legs. I kept feeling like I was still in motion and I had a horrible time sleeping. I missed the rocking motion of the train. Isn't that pathetic? All those days on the train longing for a bed, and then, I couldn't sleep.

I still got up at 8:30am to get a start on my day. First stop was the Bank of China to pull some currency out of the ATM. That was no problem. Next was find the Forbidden City. Easy enough. It is absolutely enormous after all. Nope. My sense of direction is completely skewed in Beijing. I walked in the opposite direction. For those who've never been to Beijing, it is immense. A block can go on for a mile. Everything is far apart. After walking for over an hour, I determined that I might be lost. OK, easily fixed. I knew that I hadn't gone far, so I jumped in a taxi, asking for Tienanmen Square.

Harrumph. I don't think that she did it deliberately, but instead of driving straight down the street to the square (I'd walked in the exact opposite direction), she went the other way and jumped on the ring road. So, not only did she add distance and price to the meter, she got us stuck in Beijing's worst traffic. A 10 yuan, 15 minute trip turned into a 28 yuan, 45 minute trip. I was not amused. I vowed not to get in another Beijing taxi. I was also dropped off about 1/2 a mile from the square, and my driver pointed me in the wrong direction.

I walked into the hutong for a bit, finally meeting fellow tourists who were at least able to point me in the right direction. I also found a camera shop that carried a battery charger for my lithium ion camera battery. This put me in a good enough mood to enjoy my sightseeing. I was starting to get nervous about finding a charger and I was down to the last of my three batteries.

The square...it is the world's largest public space. It is enormous. It dwarfs the Zocolo in Mexico City. I was there during the early afternoon, so I didn't see anyone flying a kite, but there were multiple kite vendors. Sadly, Mao's tomb was closed for renovations, so I am unable to offer a comparison between Lenin and Chairman Mao. However, I did find a wonderful clock/calendar counting down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until the Beijing Olympics. They are SERIOUSLY excited about the Olympics. Everyone talks about it, and practices English, and renovates for the tourists, even Mao's crystal crypt.

The square was fine, but really, just a square. I bought a pink parasol and continued on to the Forbidden Palace. I did the audio tour, which was excellent, if only for the pure use of Chinglish. For those unfamiliar with the form, it is English translated directly from the Chinese that comes off very strangely. See my pics for many excellent examples. I tried to snap pics of good Chinglish signs.

The palace museum is immense. It's an enormous expanse of stone and paint. Honestly, it looks very uncomfortable to live in, but extremely grand. I wish that I'd been there between 1911 when the last Qing Emperor was overthrown and 1924 when he was evicted from the Inner Palace. In1915, the Outer Palace, including the Hall of Supreme Harmony (I love it!), was opened to the public. Imagine, entering a place that's been closed off for over 400 years, and yet still not being allowed to even see into the heart of it. My imagination would have run wild! It must have been incredibly romantic.

I wandered through as much as I could take of the Palace's 800 buildings, making sure to stop by the Palace of Concentrated Beauty, the harem. This was depressing. Such a small space, enclosing so many women and keeping them from living any sort of a normal life. The garden was quite nice. Lots of gnarled Cypress trees and strangely shaped rocks. The 24 emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties who ruled from here liked to sit in the small pagodas and write poetry.

After the Forbidden city, I didn't feel like walking and wouldn't take a cab, so I got myself a rickshaw to take me back through the hutongs. The hutong districts are old areas of Beijing that are filled with twisting, narrow alleyways and traditional courtyard houses. They are full of charm and are really an example of living history.

That evening, I went to see the Chinese National Acrobatic Troupe. First, I was surprised that they were all children. The performance they were putting on was of the "#1 top class - stars of the future". I really thought that I was seeing the training school perform and was disappointed. Some of the tricks were quite impressive - my favorite was when 12 girls rode in circles on one bicycle. After the show, I asked my driver when the adults perform. He was confused. We finally worked it out to communicate that the performers are fired when they hit 20. They are all children. During the show, there was an emphasis on particular performers being "so young aged", or "as graceful as a falling snowflake and as delicate as tender flower." I guess youth is the big attraction in acrobats in China. All of the 21 and over performers must join Cirque du Soleil.

For pictures, see http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Beijing

TransMongolian Railroad

2007-09-06T08:16:00.000-07:00

First off, the train left Moscow on August 28 at 9:30pm local time and pulled in to Beijing's Main Train Station (there's also a West station) on September 3 at 2:30pm local time (5 hours ahead of Moscow). That is 5 and a half days. On a train. Trapped in a space made up of tiny little sleeping compartments, narrow halls, and minuscule (not to mention filthy) bathrooms. If you are at all claustrophobic, do not take this trip.

That said, I was locked in for the duration with an eclectic and interesting assortment of people - admittedly, most were drunk for the entire trip, but that added to the interest factor. I also passed through some of the most beautiful scenery that I have ever seen. The trip was an adventure, a wonder, and an experience that I am so glad to have had. That said, I would NEVER do it again! :)

Yes, the scenery was beautiful, but it also never ended. It just kept going - being gorgeous and interminable. The inmates got a little rambunctious. There was a water fight; singing; noodle-eating; experiments in chucking things out windows; itinerary exchanges; kissing (my swedish roommates met some very nice polish gentlemen); card playing; reading; drinking; drinking; drinking. Anything to pass the time. We generally didn't sleep more than 7 hours a night. Strange, you'd think that sleeping would be the way to make the time pass, but it seemed difficult to sleep with so many awake and partying people around.

I read 4 books, yes that's not very many for me, i was too lethargic to be bothered by the last couple of days. The most interesting was Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov which I had never actually read. Very strange. Very very strange. I wrote in my journal; stared out the window; planned my itinerary in China (I'd left it for the train deliberately); chatted with new friends; got drunk once and abstained for the remainder of the journey; contemplated life; learned to shower in a tiny (filthy) toilet stall using only a water bottle; and banged my psyche against the walls. I had recurring fantasies about getting out at one of the stops and catching a flight to Beijing. I went so far as to look up flight info in my TranSiberian Railway Lonely Planet Guide. It was possible.

At the end of it all, I never want to see a train again - with the full knowledge that I will be riding the iron rooster throughout China; and I am so glad that I went. I met people that I'll never forget, and saw things that might not exist in another ten years. I fully expect that if I repeat this trip in ten years, it'll be a vastly different experience. The days of eating dried fruit, bread, and hard boiled eggs, drinking instant coffee made with the water from the samovar, were all worth it.

Here are some excerpts from my journal:

August 29th 4pm - "I just ran into a couple I'd met in St Petersburg. Small world. They showed me around their 1st class compartment. Nice. 2 bunks, an armchair, and a SHOWER en suite. There is wood paneling in the hallway, etched glass on their door. They have plush mattresses. I should have paid the extra." Note: my compartment had 4 bunks and that was it - no armchair and definitely no shower.

August 30th 2pm - "I am so hungover. I miss Greg."

August 31st 11am - "I washed my hair in the sink and gave myself a manicure. Much better. Unfortunately, the food situation is a bit dire. I have eggs and potatoes and bread in the restaurant car; fruit, bread and soy jerky in my berth. That's it. I'm going to be seriously unbalanced when I get to Beijing."

August 31st 1pm - "Beautiful wood houses with pool cue chalk-blue shutters and panes. There are trees everywhere. Birch and fir. Some are starting to change colors. There are meadows with tall grasses and bursts of wildflowers. Streams and ponds. Marshes with pussy willows...It's so gorgeous - the land. However, it's over 100 degrees and full of mosquitos in the summer and it's buried in snow in the winter. Beauty is something I'll travel to see. Comfort is what I look for in a home."

September 1st 4pm - "The Swedish ladies seem to have gone the non-bathing, no-wet wipe route. They're starting to smell a bit ripe. Make that rank."

September 2nd 12:35am - "I think that we just crossed into Mongolia. We spent 3 hours at Naushki on the Russian side of the border. Now, it's the Mongolian border patrol's turn to inspect our passports and look us over. I think that we're not supposed to go to sleep 'til after we get done... I'm sleepy. All of the excitement (excursions to the shop, exercising on the platform, missing Swedish roommate who'd been dragged into customs by the Russian military) wore me out! Now, I just want to sleep."

September 2nd 9am - "We're just outside Ulan Baatar. I'm checking out the new Mongolian dining car. Yummy breakfast. Bread with soft butter and jam, an omelette that's scrambled egg with onion, juice and coffee. Perfect. So much better than the Russian car." Note: each country had its own restaurant car. The Russian car was the worst, as well as being with us the longest. I had the choice of bread & butter, olives, eggs (fried in about 1/2 a cup of oil in a metal plate which was also the serving dish), potatoes (see description of eggs), and that's it. The Mongolian car was the best, but was quite expensive. Really expensive - not cheap backpacker expensive. He wanted $25 for a set lunch menu. The Chinese car was free and good for meat eaters, I just enjoyed the rice with soy sauce.

September 2nd 12:30pm - "Mongolia is lovely. Rolling grasslands with herds everywhere. The herders might be on horseback, motorcycle or car. I'm still excited to see the occasional ger (yurt). Maybe in a few hours I'll be bored, but so far, this is a nice section of the trip."

September 2nd 3pm - "We just stopped at a station. I bought 'Russian ice cream' from an adorable little girl. So cute! I also bought king chips (odd) and 'Number One Most Softness tissues'. I skipped the surfing baby Buddha chocolate crisps."

Septermber 2nd 3:30pm - (written in Mongolian dining car) "I ordered rice and made the mistake of asking if he had soy sauce. He said yes. He then brought back my rice covered in meat chunks and broth. I shrieked, NO! and repeated soy sauce. He brought the bowl back with the meat still on, just now with ketchup squirted on top. Finally, I got him to understand that I don't want meat and he brought me back plain rice. I had that and coleslaw for lunch. Oh, and the ice cream. I'm still hungry, but that wasn't too bad."

September 2nd 5pm - "We've hit the Gobi. Huge dust clouds. My hair has turned to straw and my hands feel mummified. Maybe I should've waited 'til tomorrow for my big shower."

September 2nd 8:42pm - "Approaching Chinese border."

September 2nd 9:30pm - "Still on the Mongolian side of the border. I really need to pee and am not allowed...I'll hold it 'til 10, then I'm demanding a toilet."

September 3rd 1:39pm - "We were held up at the Chinese side of the border for 4 hours."

September 3rd 2:24pm - "I think we're here!!!" Note: we had arrived in Beijing. I was off that train like a shot. No dilly-dallying saying goodbye. I'd gotten the emails I wanted earlier. Now was the time to flee that mobile prison!

To learn more about the trip, please see my Picasa web album, TransMongolian Adventure at: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/TransMongolianAdventure

Chores and the Banya

2007-09-04T00:58:00.000-07:00

This was my last day in Moscow. First, I woke up at 7 (with the help of my alarm) to shower, pack, and check out of the hostel and still have time to get to the internet cafe and call Greg at a reasonable hour. I tried to shave time by taking the metro. That was a mistake! I ended up further from the internet cafe than my hostel was and trekked a bit to get back there. Oh well.

After getting my Greg fix, I went grocery shopping for the train trip. I know that the book (Lonely Planet) says that there is food available at every stop as well as a restaurant car on the train, but I am a little paranoid and decide to load up on fresh fruit, dried fruit, crackers, yogurt, pastries, nut bread, water, rum and vodka. Nothing like having the essentials covered. I was done with my shopping by 2pm and had plenty of time for a nice long trip to the Banya before my train left at 9:30.

Back at the hostel (they have a left luggage area), I dumped my groceries and checked with the hostel staff to find out what I'd need at the Sanduny banya. Note: the banya is the Russian baths - the sauna and birch branch whipping and nude lounging spot. I was told by the two women working at the time that they never went to the banya in the city. It's too expensive and not very good. Harrumph. Not having the choice of going outside the city, I pressed on to ask what I should bring. They said, "oh, nothing. They'll have anything you need there."

I took the scenic route, since I had so much spare time, and got to the baths (Moscow's oldest) by 3. Right away, I started off feeling a bit wary and cheated. The only English language info available is a sign saying that the price is 600 rubles. Then, the woman at the ticket booth wouldn't let me in for less than 1000. Nice. If she was cheating me, that sucks. If not, they need new signs.

Well, I paid the 1000 ($40 US) and went in to the lounge room. There, I was given a key to a locker, assigned to a booth and was told that I'd need to pay to rent sandals and a towel. There were 4 types of towels listed. I splurged and went for the sheet (100 r). Then, the woman managed enough English to try to sell me a massage. The cheapest was the birch branch (1200 p) "massage", so I picked that one. I was assigned a burly, butch looking masseuse who spoke about 10 words of English. She took me in the large bathing room and told me to wait. I waited. About 20 minutes. In the main room, there is a Japanese wood tub with cold water, two Jacuzzis with cold water, various wooden benches and coat racks and about 5 open shower stalls. Very spare, and not at all luxurious. Think concrete walls and floors. I stood around in my towel feeling increasingly annoyed. Finally, masseuse lady came back and told me to sit in the sauna for 2 minutes with my sheet wrapped over my head. I waited in there about 15 minutes and she never came back. The sauna is a large two level room. The stove is on ground level and is surrounded by a rising plane of tiles. There are stairs leading to the wooden loft with benches surrounding the area and a wood floor in the center. There are two small windows for ventilation. Oddly, the point is to get heated as quickly as possible, so I saw more naked people in the bathing area than actually in the sauna.

I finally got out and took a tepid shower then splashed myself with cold water. I waited some more. Then I got back in the sauna, got out and splashed myself with cold water, repeat. After about 45 minutes, I was BORED and confused. I looked around for the soap, product, whatever was offered and found a nice little layout of product on a towel on a bench offering products with labels in Russian, English, and French. Nice, at least they do something well! I washed my face and applied a glob of coffee body scrub (very good, by the way), only to realize that I had just helped myself to someone's private stash. Whoops! Apparently, you're supposed to bring your own. The girl was very nice about the whole thing, but still, quite embarrassing.

I went out to get some water and was denied water and gestured to get back to the sauna. The masseuse came in and told me to lay on the floor of the sauna. Problem, the floor was full of naked Russian women with sheets over themselves. There was plenty of space between bodies, so I asked them to please make space for me. No response. I asked what I was supposed to be doing. No response. The masseuse made me wait in the bathing room. I asked for help and/or to be told what was going on. No response. I called them all a bunch of bitches, suddenly they all spoke English! Amazing.

After an hour and a half, I had not been massaged, had not received water, had not been told what the hell was going on and was pissed! I also started to think about last minute prep for my train. I decided to skip the massage and got the hell out of there. Of course, I was still charged 300 rubels for the birch branches for the massage I never received, and 100 r for the water I never received. I finally learned that this was meant to be a 3 hour "very relaxing" experience that is quite ritualistic. I was told that I really should have come with a Russian friend. Hah! They need to set up a stand selling those.

That was pretty much it. Up until my "treat-myself" experience at the banya, I'd been feeling rather fond of Moscow. I'd finally gotten a handle on the required lack of facial expression, and vague impression of disdain that the true Muscovite gives off and was really enjoying the pastries and blinis, but now, I was ready to get on the train, and meet some people who actually smile and seem happy that you are giving them a great deal of money. Goodbye, Russia!

Stary Arbat, Egyptians & Capoeira (not)

2007-09-04T00:23:00.000-07:00

On my third day in Moscow, I'd taken care of the most "must-do" tourist crap, and had some time to relax. I decided to wander over to Stary Arbat, the Haight street of Moscow. I made my way there through the Garden Ring, happening upon an incredible 2 block long outdoor exhibit of nature photography. It was unbelievable. Pandas, horses, elephants, sharks, monkeys, polar bears. If it moved, there was an unbelievable photo of it. I was quite humbled by the exhibition. I think I need a better camera. :)

Well, I made it to Arbat and found the usual array of portrait and caricature artists, as well as a large number of tattoo shops, cafes, street kids, and street artists (musicians, jugglers, etc). At one point, I had climbed up on a rather unsteady pile of bricks in the hope of getting a better picture. I don't know if the picture is any good, but I got a henna tattoo out of it. I was helped down by none other than an Egyptian from Luxor. After I'd greeted him with "sabah el kher" (bright the day/good morning), he insisted that I sit and talk with him for a little while. He asked if I wanted a henna tattoo, I said no, he said for free, I said sure, why not! Sam comes to Moscow every summer to work Stary Arbat as a henna artist. At home, in Luxor, he co-owns three spice shops with his brother. I forgot to ask, but the spice shops or the temp tattooing must pay well to be able to get out of the country and travel. Oh, he was also the first Egyptian I'd met who loves our President Bush. He admires that Bush is so strong. It turns out that Sam is a Coptic Christian and he agrees with Bush that Muslims are very bad people! He said that Hilary definitely would not be strong enough to be the President, and supports "a senator, what is his name?" Funny.

After saying goodbye to my Egyptian friend, with a parting invitation to meet him at 8 when he quit for the day, I continued down the street admiring the universality of the street punk mentality. There was a whole crew in goth and punk garb hanging out by a wall with loads of graffiti, smoking something, maybe tobacco, maybe not. I decided against getting a Russian tattoo, and had to tell various people with signboards that I would not be visiting their fine establishment. I stopped to listen to bad singing and amazingly good guitar playing. Of course, there were three people spinning poi. The global fire spinning phenomenum is hysterical!

That took the afternoon. I stopped off for one more serving of caviar blini and then went back to my hostel to prepare for....capoeira!! I was sooo excited. I'd googled Moscow Capoeira and found the Inbi Center which has a few global locations. Transcendental center for global understanding. Very hippy-like and in Moscow, hosting Axe Capoeira. I was thrilled. I asked the girl at Godzilla's to call the number for me and find out if/when they were having an all-level class. Being Russian, she said no. Nice. I called myself and lucked out (seemingly) when the man who answered the phone spoke English. I asked if there was a class soon, and he answered, yes - at 8:30. Wow! I verified, tonight? He said, yes. I asked if it was at the location given on the website, his English wasn't up to it. We hung up.

Well, I was on the metro by 7:30 (it was only 2 stops down the blue line), and looking for the place by 7:45. I had an address, and an intersection. from there, it was a mystery. I managed to find the place in an off-street courtyard, behind a playground, by 8:10. I peeked in the workout space and saw a bunch of women doing yoga. Cool! I want to do yoga! Well, I settled in to wait for capoeira.

After what seemed a very long time and a collection of new mosquito bites, I finally found someone who spoke English to tell me that it was now 9:15. Yoga was still going. When asked about capoeira, he told me that TriYoga shares space with the Inbi Center and that Inbi wouldn't have the space for another 3 days. Great. Either the guy on the phone meant that there would be a class on 8/30/2007 (this was the 27th), or tonight's class was at a different location. I headed home in defeat.

But wait! There's a sushi restaurant! At least I can drown my sorrows in sake and/or bury them in spinach salad. Nope. I was refused admittance by a caucasian Russian man dressed in a samurai costume. Remember, I was in workout gear. In Russia, women wear full makeup/hair/outfit/torture shoes to go out. I was told that the restaurant was full despite the clear view of many empty tables. Ouch. Blocked by a guy in a Samurai outfit. That was it. I gave up and went to bed early.

For pictures, please visit http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow

Flea Market, Cemetary, Convent, Boat trip, Caviar blini & the hunt for Skype

2007-09-03T04:05:00.000-07:00

Sunday was another big day. I started off the day with invitations from two different groups to team up with them for sightseeing. Unfortunately, both duos were still passed out when I was ready to hit the streets, so I made my way alone. First, I wanted to visit Novodevichy Convent & Cemetary. The Convent was supposed to be amazing, and was the place where Peter I locked up his half-sister after she tried to over-throw him. The adjacent cemetary is the latter-day home of many of Russia's greatest luminaries.

I took the metro, arriving at Sportivnaya station with no problem. Then, I had a choice: exit to the right or the left. I chose right and ended up in the biggest flea market I've ever seen. Seriously, there were tour buses that had brought Russians in to do their shopping from all over the area. No wonder Russian women are so stylish! They have these amazing places to buy $10 knock-off Chloe purses, etc. It was tempting, but all I had to do was remember that I'd have to carry it, and I was able to resist buying anything. Unfortunately, I was lost. There were no handy signs saying, "this way to the cemetary". Russia is one of the least tourist-friendly places I have ever been. I finally asked two bus drivers which way to the convent, convulsing them with laughter. I'm guessing that they'd been drinking. With their gestures, I did end up finding the place.

Wow, I entered the grounds of the cemetary first. Amazing. Check out my pictures. I lost hope quickly of actually finding any of the famous graves, since there are thousands, and there are no signs reading "-----> this way to Chekhov!" Instead, I wandered around enjoying the individual gravestones, happening upon Popov by chance. After I'd enjoyed the peace for an hour or so, I started making my way out when I ran into a Japanese tour group. Hah! They led me straight to Molotov and Chekhov.

With that glow of success, I made my way to the Convent. I had assumed that I'd catch a bite to eat there. Nope. Like I said, Russia. Anywhere else in the world, where there's a tourist site there will also be restaurants, food kiosks, soda stands, etc. Not in Russia. Nothing.

Well, I still wanted to explore the convent, even hungry and thirsty. I bought my ticket and even sprung for the photo pass. I learned that this is actually still a working convent. Go figure. The chapels were beautiful. The icons were ornate. I was wearing my bandana (with respect this time) and all seemed well. Then, I was evicted by a nun. I was in a chapel, taking a photo, when a nun came at me. I showed her my photo pass. Apparently, that's no good in this particular chapel, which would have been fine if someone had told me (all other chapels, photos are fine). I said sorry. She yelled. I checked my camera to see if the one shot I'd gotten was any good (no). She thought I was taking another picture. I was tossed from the church. Wow! Nuns really are scary!

I refused to let a crazy (or deeply spiritual depending on your point of view) woman ruin my day, and continued viewing the convent grounds. Then, I went off on a serious search for food. I'd had cornflakes and a banana at 9am. It was now 3:30pm and I was STARVING. Wouldn't you know. Nothing. I took the metro to the Kremlin area and instead of heading straight for Sbarro at the Garden, I stupidly looked for a restaurant. Nope. I also had a boat trip on my itinerary for the day and decided to combine the two by crossing over to the little island in the Moscow River. I crossed a bridge to find the 2 restaurants nearby both closed. I did find the boat launch though and decided to settle for mini-croissants and a water on the boat and lunch afterward.

My river cruise was refreshing, and the croissants revived me enough to fortify me for a trip back to Kuznesky Most area for a caviar blini. Yum. Seriously, I LOVE salmon egg blinis with sour cream. They are so, so good. By the way, for those not in the know, I figure that if I eat chicken eggs, logically, I can eat fish eggs. That's how it fits in with my vegetarian diet.

After blinis, I determined to find an internet cafe. Armed with the Lonely Planet, I found a giant nightclub/gaming den, with no Skype. I found an internet club whose only advert of existence was a tiny brass plaque in Cyrillic lettering on the inside doorway of a building under construction. No Skype. I found an expensive Italian sidewalk restaurant where an internet cafe once was - that was on an awesome little pedestrian street filled with sidewalk cafes. Then, I entered the underground mall. At Okhotny Ryad metro station, if you continue down past the subway level, you'll discover three floors of underground shopping. On the very bottom floor is Time Online, the one internet cafe with Skype, Yahoo! Messenger, MSN Messenger, etc. in all of Moscow. For 100 ruples an hour, I was able to call home.

Successful, I stopped for Mexican food and then called it a night. Cheese quesadillas in Russia are a little odd, but still good. The strawberry salad was even less authentic, but delicious! Belly full, I toddled off to bed, footsore, but happy.

For pictures, please see: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow

The Beat-Down & Jagganath

2007-09-03T03:39:00.000-07:00

My nap was interrupted by a workman climbing a ladder outside my curtainless window and getting an eyeful. It was hot! That excitement got me up and back on the streets by 8ish. I wandered for awhile searching out internet cafes (no luck) and a vegetarian restaurant called Jagganath. Oh, strange aside, by this point, I'd taught myself to read the Cyrillic alphabet by sounding out signs for MacDonald's; PizzaHut; etc. I don't think that I'll retain the knack, but it was quite useful.

Anyway, while looking for Jagganath in the nightclub/bar area near Kuznetsky Most, I turned a corner and happened upon a vicious beating. A car squealed to a halt right in front of me. I smiled, thinking it was a young man showing off his parking skills. Nope. In another second, 3 young men burst from the car. In two seconds, they were running toward a group made up of three young couples dressed for a night on the town (the women were in tiny dresses with high heels). One attacker threw a bottle while still running toward the group. The women started screaming. A second attacker kept hold of his bottle and used it as a club, taking down the apparent main target of the attack. I say that he must have been the target because as soon as he was on the ground, all three guys started kicking and hitting him while he was already unconscious. They only broke off to take on his two friends. At the apex of the event, the women were even involved, beating the heads and shoulders of the people attacking their dates. The attack lasted about 2 minutes. During this time, I had quietly scooted up the block, and stopped to take some photos (yes, I know that I'm a ghoul). There were also about 10 men standing around watching events unfold, and making not the slightest move to intervene. After the beating stopped, the two groups yelled at each other in Russian, while the downed man's girlfriend rushed to cradle his head in her lap. Then, the attackers pealed out. I lingered for a good 10 minutes. No one approached offering help. The police didn't arrive. The beaten guy didn't get up. Finally, I left feeling much less optimistic of the outcome of any cries for help I might make while in Russia. When I described the incident to the hostel worker on duty that night, she assured me that oh yes, people mind their own business in Russia and this was probably mafia related. Cheers.

I did finally find Jagganath that evening and had a good meal of tofu and vegetables in my newest cult-run veggie restaurant. I was especially excited by the discovery of a vegetarian shop onsite selling fake sausage. Yum. Mostly though, I was so unnerved by the beat-down I'd witnessed that I gave up my vague plan of a night out and was back at the hostel by 11. I noticed on the way home that the streets were pretty quiet and most restaurants were closing. Moscow is not the city that St Petersburg is. Despite the warm summer night, people still tend to go home early.

I settled into the hostel, and decided to go to bed and get an early start the next day. My two English roommates (girls from Brighton), woke me up stumbling in at 2am from the Hard Rock Cafe, but I was still up and out by 9am.

For pictures, see http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow

Moscow morning - St Basil's; Lenin's remains; the Kremlin

2007-09-03T02:12:00.000-07:00

I arrived in Moscow at 7am. After struggling through the throng of people at the station and through the little market in copyright infringed items outside of the station, I made my way to the Metro. Like a good backpacker, I scrimped and skipped a nice easy cab, choosing (after a night train) to introduce myself to the wonders of Moscow's metro system. I have to say, NICE! Lenin decided that since the workers would be spending a lot of time in transit, the metro stations should be beautiful and the trains should never be more than 2 minutes apart. Wow. I changed trains once and saw 4-5 stations on my way to my stop. Each was gorgeous. Wood ceilings, stained glass, chandeliers, marble pillars, carvings. Unbelievable. Not to mention, my entire time in Moscow, I never waited more than 2.5 minutes for a train. I know this because at every platform, there's a digital clock that tells the time on one side, and on the other side has a stopwatch that starts ticking off the seconds after a train departs until the next one comes. I am so jealous.

I arrived at Godzilla's (my hostel) by 8am and was able to take a shower and dump my pack, but was told that I couldn't check in until after 2pm. Instead of sitting in the (quite nice) lounge and numbing my brain with their excellent digital television, I decided to beat the rush to St Basil's and the Kremlin. Neither of these attractions opens before 10am (Russians do like to sleep in), so I had high hopes. Moscow's historic district is laid out like a wheel. The Kremlin & Red Square are the center and there are major streets that shoot out like spikes (on one side as bridges over the river). This is bound at one point by the Garden ring - a park that circles the Kremlin from either bank of the river, about 10 blocks out. There is a second ring in another 5-6 blocks. I was staying just outside of the Garden ring, so a quick walk took me to the center.

There, I found, St Basil's!!! Amazing! Truly a fabulous thing to happen upon from the opposite end of Red Square. Two factoids: one, St Basil's actually only refers to the northeastern chapel of Pokrovsky Cathedral; two, Krasnaya Ploshchad (Red Square) originally meant Beautiful Square. It was only in the 20th century that krasny took on the dual meaning of beautiful and red.

Back to the narrative. I duly admired the cathedral, going so far as to climb over a Russian army placed barrier to get an unobstructed photo, with no other people in the shot. Though, Moscow doesn't seem to have nearly as many tourists as St Petersburg, and Russia really doesn't have very many tourists at all. Gee, I wonder why (pain in the butt to get a visa, need to register your visa in every city, etc. etc.). Digression aside, I now believe that there are two jobs created for soldiers and ex-soldiers. Current members of the army have the extremely important job of setting up barriers for no apparent reason and then moving those barriers for no apparent reason - barriers around nothing, blocking noone - very odd. Ex-soldiers get to renovate buildings. Almost every historic (or rebuilt once-historic) building is currently being renovated. Luckily, they'll drape the "restored" or for all I know, newly created "historic" area in tarps printed/painted with a design of how it'll look when completed, so that the tourists don't really miss anything. Funny.

After photographing St Basil's, I decided to hit Lenin's tomb next. First, I queued for and bought my ticket for the Kremlin, then dropped off my camera at the left luggage area, then queued for my momentary descent into grotesquely morbid curiosity. After a 30 minute wait, I was ushered into the granite tomb holding the earthly remains of Vladimir Ilych Lenin, despite his request to be buried next to his mother in St Petersburg. The guards there do not have any vestige of a sense of humour. One Russian toddler asked his papa a question while entering the tomb and was emphatically "shhhhhh"ed. You'd think they'd be a bit more approving of a father bringing his small son to worship at the shrine! The line moves past the glass enclosed corpse fairly quickly. The room is also very dark, so it was hard to get a good look. While lingering trying to see if Lenin's fingertips were a little brownish (yes), I let a gap open between me and the person preceding me. I was hurried along by a man with a machine gun. Though, really, would they allow soldiers to have live ammunition so close to the revered mummy? Not unless that is bullet-proof glass. Then, while trying to get one last look at Lenin's head, I fell down a couple of stairs. Whoops! Those were hard to see in the dark. I wonder how many people break a leg in Lenin's tomb every year?

After my return to the world, I went through the mini-graveyard outside the tomb and had a chance to stand over Joseph Stalin. I think that standing at Stalin's grave, staring at a bust of his mustachioed face, was creepier than looking at Lenin's actual body. Strange.

Then, it was off to the Kremlin! The Kremlin is actually quite a small enclosed area with a few government buildings and a few churches, a huge bell that has never rung, and a giant cannon that has never fired. All in all, a bit of a dud. I decided not to pay the separate entrance fee to see the Armoury, thinking that I'd catch enough gold, jewels, and icons in the rest of Russia. This might have been a mistake, given that I went without seeing one single Faberge egg in all of Russia. I'll have to wait for an exhibit to visit San Francisco.

Mostly, I just wandered around the grounds. I tried to approach the Senate, the current Presidential offices, but was waved off by armed guards. The oddest part of wandering through a still-in-use-by-the-government tourist spot was the near-constant flow of official black sedans with tinted windows and one blue flashing light on top. It was fun to watch people get in and out of the cars. Of course, I didn't recognize any of them. I did go in and see a temporary exhibit of Cartier's jewelry c. 1920-1970. A good display of conspicuous consumption. My favorite was a "necklace" of two alligators crusted in diamonds. Cool.

I entered a few of the chapels and the Patriarch's Palace. I also experienced my first smile and look of approval from a Russian woman. I was extremely confused until I realized that my bandana (worn to keep the sun off the top of my head) was mistakenly thought to be a gesture of respect toward the Orthodox Church. Nice.

My favorite quote of the day came when I asked a fellow tourist what chapel she was leaving. She paused and answered, "The Church of the Demolition of the Robe". Hah! At some point (400 ADish +/-) a Byzantine Emperor came back to Constantinople with the robe/veil of the Virgin, and declared a feast day to celebrate. This day is the "Deposition of the Robe". Definitely a funny, lost-in-translation moment.

After I'd had my fill of icons and wood carvings, I headed over to the Russian Historical Museum. There, I really got an eyeful of treasure in their temporary exhibit. Royal artifacts. Nice. The rest of the museum is a history of Russia from Prehistoric times to the end of the 19th century. Oddly, it stops short of going into modern history, and by modern, I mean the last 100 years. A fellow traveler was specifically hoping to find loads of Soviet museums and history in Moscow, only to come up short. Current Russia is really deemphasizing its Communist past, instead choosing to focus on more distant Russian history.

I also had the fun of being yelled at for taking a photo of an entryway. In Moscow, all sites charge an admission fee and a separate photo fee. If you don't have a ticket to show the proctors, you'll get told off for taking a picture. The result of this is, most people have crappy pics from Moscow, a result of sneaking the odd shot or two.

By now, it was 4pm. I was exhausted and headed back out to my hostel to check in and take a nap. That's a record of my first morning/day in Moscow. I think you'll agree that I was quite productive.

To see my pictures, please visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow

Fun Bits about St. Petersburg

2007-08-28T08:22:00.000-07:00

Random fun facts about St. Pete's:

Women:

The women of St Petersburg has to come first.

Hairstyles: The big stylish look right now is two tone. one color in the main portion and then a strongly contrasting color for bangs and the part around the face. Striking. Also, loads of bleached blondes as in every part of the world, but a surprising number of natural blondes went dark brunette/black. I guess that close to Scandinavia, blonde is a bit boring.

Shoes: High heels all the way. I'd go so far as to say stripper heels.

Clothes: The tighter the better. I'd say that there is no ideal Russian body type. I base this on the number of not so attractive ladies of a certain age wearing the skimpiest clothing possible. Anything you've ever seen in a store and thought, my god, not even a prostitute would wear that, well, you'll see it on a Russian woman. I saw low-cut on top; belly shirts are still in; see through with a cute bra is popular; clothes with holes in them are BIG; and short shorts are a must.

Best outfit: Pink sequin daisy dukes with pink sequin halter ending just under bust with pink crocheted (completely see through) "coat" and a pair of spike heels. A girl out with some other girls for a night at the clubs was seen wearing this.

Facial expression: absolute liberation from the obligatory social smile. Russian women maintain an expression of tragedy/disdain at all time. There will be no smiling. Ever.

People on the Streets at Night:

Clubsters, ugly men with gorgeous women, roller bladers (VERY popular in Russia), cyclists - all seem to be stylish young men with kicking mountain/stunt bikes, drunks, passed out drunks, couples, families with small children, tourists, runners, students, men playing chess, random musicians, scary motorcyclists who ride on the sidewalk and other pedestrian areas.

Language:

All of the young people can speak English and none of them will. Yes, those are absolutes and thus incorrect, but you get the point.

Hostel Nord:

Awesome! Great staff. Good showers - always an important point with hostels.

Locks:

Everyone has these cool magnetic locks. It's really cool and I don't know why we don't have them at home.

Public transit:

Buses are a lot more fun than the metro. To pay for your fare you sit down (or stand if it's crowded) and wait for the fare collector to come take your money.

Restaurants:

Service in Russia is a joke. Allot 30 minutes to getting the menu, then another 30 to place your order. The food comes in the standard time frame but then it takes quite some time to get the check. All of this with a godawful attitude. Customer service doesn't seem to be well-known here. But then again, neither does tipping. Connection?

Ethnic Composition:

White as far as the eye can see. I saw a couple of Asian tour groups.

That's all for now.

Tsarskoe Selo

2007-08-28T06:51:00.000-07:00

With one day left in St Petersburg (my train was at 11), I decided that I would feel incomplete not to have seen Tsarskoe Selo. So, despite any real idea how to get there, I set off. My directions were: take the Metro to Moskowskaya station, catch a minibus right outside the station to Tsarskoe Selo. Sounds simple enough.

Here's what actually happened:

I caught the metro all right, feeling like an old hand, I even dealt with changing lines with no problem. Then, I left the station. Hmm. There are no clearly marked areas saying "Tsarskoe Selo Minibus Wait Here". In fact, the station has about 4 exits & I have no idea if I even exited the correct one. Well, I saw someone jumping on a minibus in front of me and decided that this was a likely spot, so I asked a few people which one was for T.S. In response, I got the Russian shrug. No language, just the shrug. I wandered aimlessly checking the signs on the windows for a sign, before finally realizing that I should be looking for the town name, not the tourist site name. Once I looked for Pushkin, I saw loads of minibuses of every description.

I jumped in the nearest one, felt proud of myself and settled in for the half hour ride. The bus had a little TV showing animal bloopers. Classic entertainment After a half an hour, I asked a woman when we'd hit T.S. She told me to get off immediately! We were in Pushkin! I really hope that woman catches a really bad cold (censored version). If I'd stayed on for another 5 minutes, I would have been dropped at the gates. Instead, I wandered lost through Pushkin for 45 minutes. A lovely town by the way. I eventually arrived at the Palace purely by luck.

Let me tell you something. Russia is not set up for tourism. Russia does not particularly want tourism. They make it as difficult as possible. In St. P., I saw a signboard saying Tsarskoe Selo (in Cyrillic) and 25p. I was thrilled and asked when the tour left. The woman looked me up and down and said, "Only for Russians."

I bought my ticket to the park and began wandering the (beautiful) grounds. Of course, then it began to rain. To enter any of the buildings (replicas) to see any of the antiques (none of which were there when the original was - those all exploded in WWII), cost additional rubles, which I was disinclined to pay. Instead, I went looking for a cafe. Nope. Lots of hot dog and ice cream stands and that was about it. I ate my protein bar and went looking for a microbus home.

I found the stop and waited (in the rain). The first bus filled up with people shoving in front of me, leaving me to wait for the next one. I was one of the shovers for the next one, let me tell you! Then a bit of a search for the Metro and home feeling that I definitely could have done without seeing T.S.; knowing, paradoxically, that I would have felt incredibly deprived not to have seen it.

Well, I doodled around for a bit and ended up having to really rush to catch my train. Why is it that having spare time always encourages me to be late? I caught the train 2 minutes before it pulled out of the station. I had a compartment with two older Russian ladies (bottom bunks) and a Russian Romeo (also a top bunk). He spoke to me. Incessantly. While drinking vodka and after removing his shirt. Things like, "Do you like Russia?" "Do you have boyfriend?" etc. etc. I finally fell asleep to avoid him. That ended my time in St Petersburg. I hope that you've enjoyed it as much as I did!

To see pictures, visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/StPetersburg

Train Tickets; Russians & Walking

2007-08-28T01:32:00.001-07:00

The next day, I decided to save desert for after dinner and took care of my not-fun stuff before the fun stuff. I didn't have a ticket from St Petersburg to Moscow. I was planning to be on the 11pm train on Friday night, but the possibility existed that the train company was unaware of my plans. :) I headed down to the main booking site, next to the Kazan Cathedral. I managed to locate the correct window (number 98 - upstairs to the left), and discovered I'd forgotten my passport. 20 minutes later, I was back and talking to a very nice lady.

The funny thing about Russians is that they are either extremely nice and helpful or complete assholes. There doesn't seem to be a happy medium the way that there is in most countries. The lady at the train ticket place at first told me that she did not speak English. I then told her: Adin (one) Bilyet (ticket) Moskva (Moskow) Kupe (sleeping compartment) Zaftra (tomorrow) and night (night). She laughed so hard at my attempt to speak Russian that it magically jarred loose her command of the English language. This was my first clue that people might be having fun with me and just not deigning to speak to me in English.

My work done for the day, I stopped off at the hostel for my second free breakfast. In deference to the late hours of the Russian Summer, breakfast ran from 10am-2pm. This was hard on the early birds, but nice for anyone looking to make 2 free meals of toast and yogurt. There, I met 2 lovely German girls. We had the usual backpacker's conversation: 1) where are you from?; 2) how long have you been here? 3) how long have you been travelling?; 4) where are you going next?; 5) when do you go home?; 6) what are you doing today?; (optional) 7) what's your name? At point 6, it came up that today was the monthly free day at the Hermitage. Ack! Why didn't someone tell me before I paid 300p yesterday?

I decided to get my free money's worth and go back for a second look at the temporary Merovingian exhibit. Very good. Unfortunately, I was caught taking a picture of a 6th century bead necklace and was physically dragged over to the 'no photo' sign by a docent. She fell into the asshole category not just by manhandling me, but also by making fun of me when I apologized. Harrumph! Not shamed in the slightest, I continued to admire the craftwork of early civilization while I was watched with an eagle eye in case I might go crazy and start photographing everything. Note: you are free to take photos of almost everything in the Hermitage. Only special exhibits are the exception.

After a quick circuit of my favorite sites to make sure that I hadn't missed anything, I left the Hermitage behind and set off on foot. I decided to cross a bridge. Well, that brought me to the Strelka. There, I saw a not-dancing-at-the-moment bear cub and many many brides. The custom is for people to get married in the morning and then spend the day going around the city to all of the famous sites taking photographs. The entire wedding party comes along with bottles of champagne. There is also a professional photographer and usually some sort of musician. Crazy. There were brides everywhere. Apparently, August is a popular month to get married in since it is not too hot and not freezing and up to one's waist in snow.

This was also the first time that I witnessed the phenomenon of the beautiful bride with the hideous groom. I was told that this is because there is a gender imbalance in Russia (many more women than men) and because a woman is considered over the hill if she isn't married by 25. This is the reason for all of the gorgeous Russian women with beautiful hair, nails, makeup, clothes, accessories, etc. They are stunning, and the best they can hope for is to beat out all of the other stunning women for the chance at an ugly, but hopefully rich, guy. Yikes! The pressure! Men take advantage of this by typically not getting married 'til they're in their 30s.

That aside, I watched a lovely ceremony of one couple releasing doves and then kissing. I felt so happy that I decided to walk some more. I crossed another couple of bridges to the Fortress of Peter and Paul. This fortress was built by Peter the first after taking this land from the Swedes. The fortress was meant to repel a counterattack which never came. Instead, a whole city sprang up around the fortress. Soldiers bring women, bring babies, bring service industry, bring families, bring city... Simple.

Since the fortress was never used for it's intended purpose, it was filled with prisoners instead. It's a little grim, and like everything else in Russia, is under construction. Everything is under renovation. I'm not sure if it's to provide jobs for manual laborers or if everything is falling apart, but you'll see workmen everywhere.

After the fortress, I crossed another bridge to the Summer Palace and Gardens, billed as the best garden in the city. After Petrodvorets, it was a bit of a dud, but still, it was on the way, so why not? Then, I rested in the park until my feet could face more walking and then continued. There are an amazing number of cobblestone streets in Russia. This combined with the invariable high heels worn by Russian women must lead to one of the world's highest broken ankle rates. For some reason, I'd thought that cobblestones would be nice to walk on - a bit of arch support. No. Not so. Awful. My calves were knotted and aching by the time I got them back to the hostel and into a shower.

For dinner, I went off to a kitsch Russian place with 2 folks from the hostel, Katie (French Canadian) and Phil (Australian). I had blini with red caviar and potato pancakes. Yum. Then, the restaurant started turning into a club, complete with DJs; funky lights; and bad 90s US music. Cher was prominently featured.

After going back to Quo Vadis, I decided to have an early night & was home by eleven. That is very early for St. P. I did my laundry to the sound of raucous passersby wafting in through our balcony. However, I resisted temptation and was in bed by 1am.

Daytime St Pete's

2007-08-28T00:54:00.000-07:00

St Petersburg was still beautiful in the daylight. What a relief! I overslept a tad and didn't leave the hostel until noonish. The night before, I'd decided that it'd be too much of a pain to go get my credit card and purchase my Hermitage Museum ticket online. Bad decision. It would have been much less of an inconvenience than waiting an hour in line was. Oh well. I had ample people-watching time.

The museum is incredible. The interiors are stunning, and they don't end. Room after room of overwhelming beauty. It was wonderful and then, by the end, numbing. How much beauty can one look at before ceasing to take it in? The art was incredible. The best was da Vinci's Madonna and Child that was just sitting in a corner, with no people around it. Unbelievable.

I spent hours wandering around, waiting to find good Russian art. No luck. It turned out that the two Russian areas were closed for remodeling. Bummer. What was there was certainly more than enough. Rooms full of Picasso, Matisse, Gauguin, Renoir, Fragonard. More of each together than I've ever seen combined. Crazy. It was such an experience of oversatiety, if that's a word. I could only take a few hours, then hit art overload.

Next, I went on a short hydrofoil ride up the Neva to the Gulf of Finland to visit Petrodvorets, a palace/park complex laid out by Peter the Great in a successful attempt to outdo Versailles. The only problem is that the whole thing was actually destroyed during WWII and then was rebuilt by the Soviets. In fact, almost every single tourist site that I was frantically rushing to see was actually just a copy of pre-visit-by-the-Germans St Petersburg. Oh well, it was still gorgeous despite its shaky provenance.

The main attraction of Petrodvorets is that its a massive shrine to water. There are over 400 elaborate, incredible fountains, some of which are interactive. During a Russian summer, which is HOT, this is a major blessing. I didn't actually go in any of the buildings. In Russia, they have a quaint custom of charging admission to a site and then charging separate ticket prices for each individual building. That's one of the reasons I'm a little suspicious of the rebuilding process. Were there really so very many buildings to charge admission for in the original Petrodvorets? :)

I had a magical time wandering little hidden paths, and broad leafy avenues. It was so easy to visualized history. I kept thinking of a female guest who snuck out in the early morning to wander her favorite private path. Perhaps for a rendevouz? Then, it was time to catch the last hydrofoil back to St. P. Farewell, magical garden. I'll be back!

After the magic of Petrodvorets, I had a quick stop at the hostel and then was off in search of the one internet cafe in the Nevsky Prospekt area of town, Quo Vadis. WiFi and the global phone are combining to kill the internet cafe! Argh! After touching base with the outside world, I headed back toward my hostel and came across one of the tour boats about to leave from a launch site on the canal. These boats cruise up and down the canal & out to the river giving recorded historical speeches. It's great fun, especially at night. I'd meant to do one eventually, so this seemed like fate. I rushed down to buy a ticket and was told that this boat's tour was in Russian. No prob. But wait, she said that there was an English language tour leaving in an hour and 15 min. it was 11:15 then. I decided, what the hell, I'll catch the later one.

So, I went back to the hostel for a sweater and a bug repellent scarf (the mosquitoes are ever present in St. P.). I failed to convince anyone there to come back out with me, and so rushed back alone to the launch site, counting on meeting other tourists on the mini-cruise. I got onboard and waited for the tour to start. I noticed that no one was speaking English. Strange. In fact, they all looked Russian. I thought, "that's odd - maybe they want to practice their English". Well, I'm not sure where the screw up happened, but this was also a Russian tour. Crap!

Now, I would've been fine with the Russian tour to begin with, because it was one of those serendipitous traveller moments that seem fated. However, after rushing back and forth down Nevsky Prospekt and waiting over an hour and a half for this, still to get the Russian tour sucked. Now I'll never know the history of St Petersburg canals, unless I google it. Not to mention, Russians smoke. A lot. Oh well, it was still a great experience, especially when we came out to the Neva. The quay in front of the Hermitage was packed with thousands of people. It was 1:30am and there were loads of other boats and a whole swarm of tourists out to watch us. Crazy.

To see pictures, visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/StPetersburg

St. Petesborough

2007-08-27T05:41:00.000-07:00

St Petersburg is my official new favorite city. It supplants Istanbul, my previous favorite city. I arrived on the train around 10pm, decided to be bold and take the metro rather than pay 500 rubles ($20) for a taxi. I found the metro, figured out how to buy a token, asked which train to take in which direction and where to get off - all without a word of Russian spoken by me or a word of English spoken by anyone I interacted with. I love traveler's mime. It really should be a new official language. It can erase Esperanza as the official global tongue. Who should do the infomercial? I vote for Goldie Hawn. Should be interesting. Or is she still too A-list for an infomercial?

Anyway, there must have been a bit lost in the translation, 'cause I did emerge on Nevsky Prospekt, but about 2 miles from where I wanted to be. Now I know that I very easily could have taken a number of buses to my hostel, but at the time, the only option I was aware of was the old heel and toe action. Walking in St Petersburg down Nevsky Prospekt on a summer night is so fantastic that the experience was only slightly dampened by the 60 pound weight on my back. Everywhere I looked were gorgeous buildings, gorgeous women and shimmering canals. I survived the hike, found my hostel, checked in and hit the streets without the 2-ton weight on my back.

Now, some might say that going wandering in a strange city after midnight is the height of insanity. To them I say, "you've never been to St. P in the summer, have you?" There are people everywhere. Yes, many, if not most of them are drunk, but that doesn't change the feeling of community. There are roller bladers in workout clothes; Boys doing wheelies down a block on their stylin' mountain bikes; women who look like models with men that look like Geiko commercials. There are groups and other people out walking alone. I felt safe and part of an experience, a lifestyle. This is the short window of time during which Russians have a chance to get out of their warm houses and interact away from central heating. Summer is short but intense and it was about 75 degrees at 1 in the morning.

I found the Church of the Saviour on the Spilled Blood by accident by following a canal. For a second, I wondering if I had a wire switched and was St Basil's actually in St Petersburg? No, it's a different church, just based on St. Basil's in Moscow. Then, I found the Hermitage and the giant square. I wandered and wandered and was too revved up to go back to Hostel Nord. Until, finally, I realized that I'd miss the whole next day unless I got some sleep. Like a good girl, I went back to the hostel and hit the hay bale.

To see pictures, visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/StPetersburg

Tallinn & Helsinki - Part 2

2007-08-24T08:39:00.000-07:00

Hello! Well, our story left off with our heroine (everyone should get to be the hero of their own story) having a virtuous, early bedtime, with the intention of getting oot and aboot bright and early the next day. Luckily, I actually slept in 'til after 8 and didn't hit the town 'til a quarter to 9am. I say "luckily" because nothing opens in Tallinn before 9 o'clock. and most places are still closed until 10. People were drunkenly singing in the street until after 6 (my room faced the street, with a large open window), and this sort of late night frolic does not encourage early rising.

Deprived of breakfast and of an internet cafe with Skype, I wandered the streets. I found a little gem of a church; a girl selling postcards, stamps, and postal delivery on the street (they're all over Tallinn); a supermarket (yay, fruit!); and the city outside the walls of the old town. All in all, an excellent use of my time.

Finally, the internet cafe opened (the ONE internet cafe in old town - WiFi is killing the internet cafe) and I was able to get my Greg fix. After that necessity was taken care of, I meandered back to my hostel to check out. Curious thing about Tallinn's old town. It is apparently close to impossible to get lost. I wandered all over the place with neither a map nor a clue and I never had a problem getting back to my hostel. Strange. I really think that it is the magic kingdom.

Anyhoo, I got repacked and checked out, then went out for a second breakfast with Justin, my chum from the previous evening. We took a second ramble around the town together. While searching for rumored secret tunnels, we stumbled across Kiek in de Kok tower. Hah! Best name ever for a giant phallic symbol! Actually, the translation is "peeping in the kitchen", strange, but I strongly prefer the English meaning.

We continued our walk down a little secret way, not so secret judging by the used condoms and hypo we saw on the ground, to a lovely courtyard. There, I settled in with my book, The Egyptologist by Arthur Phillips, author of Prague - very very odd - while Justin went off to meet another friend.

Then, it was back to the good old Viking line. For this crossing, sans Italian conversationalist, I passed the time asleep on a bench and arrived refreshed in Helsinki three hours after leaving Tallinn. I splurged on a cab to my hostel, since I had absolutely no clue how to get there. Good call. There, I waited a good half an hour to check in (long lines), and then dropped off my bag, picked up a Brazilian dinner companion, and was off for Finland's version of Mexican food.

Fernanda has been living in Oslo for two years, working as an engineer. She just finished her contract (they love employment contracts in Scandinavia) and is considering whether or not to sign on for another 2 years. The money is fabulous, the winter is abysmal. Wait... wouldn't 'abysmal' imply hot? OK... the winter is friggin cold!!! For a girl from Rio, not exactly what she's used to.

After dinner, we swung past the train station only to find the ticket office closed. This was a great example of 'Scandinavian time'. The office is only open from 10-6. Fernanda said that often, she'll go to a store, or even a bank and find it closed at 3pm or so - not for a holiday or even summer Friday early closing. Just for the hell of it. The American work ethic seems slightly less than natural when seen through a global perspective. Of course, this opinion might change after I see some working conditions in China. :)

Back at the hostel, Fernanda went to queue for the free internet and I prepared to sneak a sauna. The hostel's sauna, for which I had thrown my travel plans all out of whack, had set hours. 4-6 for women and 6:30-8 for men. I checked in at 8:30. I was not going to be deprived of that sauna. I reconnoitered and discovered that the sauna was unlocked and unguarded. Sneaking past reception with a load of laundry to hide my towel and bikini, I put my clothes in the washer, and ducked into my private, heated world. All of the pressures of the last couple of days melted away. Not to mention the lingering muscular soreness from that ridiculous exercise class!

I was duly punished for my illicit use of the premises by discovering that there was a 3-load waiting line for the dryer. Ouch. I was up 'til 1:30 finishing my laundry, but it was still worth it!

The next morning, I had an amazing complimentary breakfast at the hostel. Normally, that'd be toast and coffee. Not in Helsinki! They served 5 different types of bread (rolls included); 4 types of cereal, including muesli; eggs; fruit; potatoes; juice; coffee; sausage (yuck, but still); and a selection of cheeses. WOW! No wonder the place is booked solid.

Next on the agenda was buying my train ticket to St Petersburg. I still was unaware of the timetable, and was getting a little nervous about not having a ticket. At the ticket office, one takes a number and waits for that number to come up. As I reached to get my number, two Arabic speaking men literally shoved me aside to get to the dispenser first. Nice. However, they got a quick kick from fate after discovering that they had accidentally grabbed a number for the domestic queue rather than for the international queue. So, I still ended up ahead of them. Hah! Take that, you unchivalric jerks!

The nice lady in the office sold me a ticket for the 3:27 train. That was at around 11:30. I had 4 hours in Helsinki. The obvious first step was to hop on the number 3 tram that loops around Helsinki. It's a hop-on public tram that stops at the major tourist spots, and only costs 2 euro! As soon as I hit the harbor (and the farmer's market), I was off like a shot. There were people everywhere, music, great smells, just a perfect day to be alive. I ambled up to Senate Square and heard a choir singing in front of the Cathedral. Cool. Then wandered a bit more and hopped back on the tram.

By pure chance, while enjoying the view, I happened to see the bus stop for bus number 24. That's the one that goes out to the Seurasaari Open Air Museum. It's a preserved area with buildings dating back as far as the 17th century. An amazing look at Finnish culture outside of a stuffy building. Irresistible! Well, it was 12:30, I decided that a 1/2 hour on the bus, 1.5 hours at the site, a half hour back, and a half hour to pick up my pack and get to the station with another 1/2 hr to spare was more than enough time. Yippee!

I made it out there, and had a WONDERFUL time wandering around. Those buildings are amazing. There are also strangely friendly red squirrels. If you make eye contact with one, it will come bounding up to you to interact/be fed. If it was 400 years ago, we'd be having squirrel stew for dinner. The island is beautiful and so peaceful. It's laid out with walkways and abundant foliage. I felt alone most of the time. Finally, it was time to head back. I'm a smart cookie to have budgeted that spare 1/2 hour, 'cause that's how long I waited for the bus. Argh!

Well, it all worked out. I made it to the station and onto my train with at least 5 minutes to spare before it rolled out of the station. :) Seriously, I'm so glad that everything worked out the way that it did. After all, who wants to sit around a dirty train station for hours anyway?

To see pictures, visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/FinlandEstonia

Helsinki & Tallinn - Day One

2007-08-22T10:58:00.000-07:00

I am officially insane. I really wanted to stay at Hostel Satakuntatalo in Helsinki. It has a sauna. I really really wanted to use that sauna. Also, it's right in the center of town, near all the trams, etc. Unfortunately, I tend to procrastinate and by the time I went online to reserve my bed at Hostel Satakuntatalo ("a Summer Hotel"- that's what the sign says), it was full for August 19th, the day that I arrived in Helsinki. However, they had an opening on August 20th! Now, any sane human being who wanted to visit Helsinki, Finland and Tallinn, Estonia before going to St Petersburg, finding her first choice in hostels booked, would have stayed at a different, albeit lesser hostel in Helsinki, taken the ferry to Tallinn, and from there taken the very cheap train to St. P. (Tallinn to St P is about a 1/3 the price of Helsinki to St P due to the relative strengths of the Euro vs. the Estonian Kroon. If they charged the same price, very few Estonians could afford to go!

As I said, that is the plan that a sane person would have followed. Well, a sane person would also probably have kept her job and continued contributing to her 401(k) and her brokerage account. God looks after children and idiots. I decided to go straight from the airport (10am after a 7 hour red eye) to the port, buy a ticket for a ferry whose precise schedule I was ignorant of, get myself to Tallinn, and take a taxi to my hostel. Not exactly a leisurely way to deal with jet lag, but it got the job done.

I slept about 4 hours on the plane, with the help of my friend diazepam (thank you, Peruvian over-the-counter pharmacy). After customs (the easiest I've ever been through) and baggage claim, my first stop was for coffee. Then, I discovered that the cost of a cab from the airport to the port was a bit prohibitive. 45 euros to be precise. Ouch! Despite my lack of sleep, I decided to err on the side of thrift and stumbled out to the bus stop. Stop number 21 produced bus #615T which got me to the train station. On the bus, I ran into 3 Italian guys who were also going to Tallinn. Luck! I decided to tag along with them and they produced the information that from the train station, the #4 tram would get us to the Viking line ferry terminal. Woo Hoo! We were in business!

Of course, the hypothetical, sane Christine would have been more prepared and would have known to take the 1.5 hour hydrofoil for 30 euros rather than the 20 euro 3 hour cruise ship, Rosella. Oh well, my fight to stay upright was helped by some great lounge acts (slight sarcasm there, but the old folks seemed to have fun on the dance floor); and by the conversation of Ricardo, Stefano, and Marco, my new Italian friends. We had a great discussion about why Italian men have such a bad reputation. We finally docked at 3:30pm local time, and I bid adieu to my chums and headed off to Vana Tom Hostel.

I had a bit of fun finding the place, but got checked in to a dorm room occupied by 4 hungover men and reeking of booze, cigarettes and male musk. Apparently, there'd been quite a party the night before. I was too exhausted to even think of requesting a different dorm assignment. I unpacked my toiletries and jammies; took a quick shower and was horizontal within about 15 minutes. The next thing I knew, it was 3 hours later, and I slowly became aware of a conversation between two of my bunkmates, Justin and creepy Scottish guy. I decided not to waste my night in Tallinn, and reluctantly rejoined the vertical world. It was 8 by the time I left the hostel, and I was starving. Well, I got coffee and ended up having too much fun to think of food for the next few hours. I had wandered for an hour or so when I ran into Justin from the hostel. He had just met a friend for coffee and was at loose ends until another friend got in on the midnight ferry.

It turns out that Justin has been living and working in Copenhagen for the last 4 years for a Danish hedge fund company. I am so jealous! He's been to Tallinn a time or two before and shows me around to some of the highlights I might of missed. As one of these highlights entails an uphill hike, I probably would have missed it. At one point, Justin finally asked me why I was walking so strangely. Damn you, Cheetah! (apparently the name of the crazy squat instructor at my sister's gym) I was still in pain 4 days after the class. I'm glad that I had Justin to force me to the upper town.

There are actually two medieval walled towns in Tallinn. One was for the nobility and occupies the high ground. The other was for the plebs down below. The view from the high old town down to the poor'ld town and the port and city beyond was amazing! Also, I had the joy of discovering that the Embassy of the Netherlands to Estonia has a trampoline in its courtyard!!! Hah!!! Why am I not Dutch? Will someone (i.e. my parents) please tell me that???

It didn't even get dark 'til around 10:30, and we were having so much fun that it was 11 by the time we got around to looking for dinner. At that point, the restaurants are closed. The pubs are full. By "full", I mean jam-packed with serious drinkers. One pub wouldn't serve us 'cause they had too many customers for the kitchen. Finally, we found an English breakfast (me) and bad Thai curry (Justin) at "The Pub with No Name" - seriously, that's the name of the bar. Replete with eggs, baked beans, and potatoes, I toddled off to bed and Justin went off to pursue a wild night on the town in Tallinn.

On a sidenote - bars in Tallinn typically show fashion videos on muted televisions, while blasting 90s American music and/or bad techno.

To see pictures, visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/FinlandEstonia

Sisterly visit

2007-08-22T10:02:00.000-07:00

Monday, August 13, 2007. I woke up at 7:15am Pacific Standard Time and thought, "Shit!" -yes, I swear in my internal monologue- "I'm late for work!" Half of a second later, I corrected myself, "Nope, I'm unemployed!" I don't think that I have ever taken quite so much joy in being 'between jobs'. Probably because in the past, being unemployed equalled being broke. Now that I'd saved money for two years, I found myself happily contacting friends and family, using the opening statement, "Hi, I'm unemployed!!! (insert giggle)"

Even though I wasn't late for my nonexistent job, I still needed to hustle to be ready for my 9am Super Shuttle to SFO. I had a funny Chinese lady driver whom I am convinced had just passed her driving exam a week or so prior to becoming a Super Shuttle driver. As evidence: she held a death grip on the wheel with her hands precisely at 10 and 2 o'clock; she drove about 20 mph in a 35 zone; she waited to turn right until she had a one block gap in traffic; definitively, she drove by audio GPS. I kid you not. She had a GPS unit hooked up giving audio directions such as, "drive 50 feet and turn right, beep (signal to turn), continue straight for 200 feet..." It was awesome. I thought that we were going to cause an accident on the freeway, but we got there safe and sound. You go girl!

The flight was uneventful, other than me being the one person on board who didn't get lunch. I asked for a vegetarian sandwich, and the flight crew twice told me that they were getting it, then never brought it. Next, they skipped me in the drink cart rotation. I must have been wearing my "Continental's flight crew stinks!" t-shirt without realizing it.

We landed at Newark at 8ish and I made my leisurely way (with a stop for a much needed dinner) to baggage claim and the taxi queue. I still ended up beating Melissa home from work and sat on her stoop for a bit 'til she got home. Not exactly a sacrifice to be forced to stop and enjoy the summer evening. When sister got home, we went out for a bite and then to bed.

On Tuesday, Melissa, Kevin and I went to the Great America amusement park. It was fun! Lots of time in line with some serious adrenaline rushes to make it worth the wait. Long day. Wednesday, M & I went for pedicures and then made a huge mistake. We went to her gym and tried what was billed as a butt class. Hah! In a half an hour we did about 300 squats, some weighted, and lunges. Then 200 plies. Then we stayed for the upper body class and the ab class, unaware that we would be unable to walk for the next week. Our quads were absolutely blown. Did I mention that Melissa lives in a 4th floor walk-up? Going up wasn't nearly as bad as going down, but either way, M & I were getting a serious preview of what old age is going to be like. It is not pretty.

Thursday, we sat around in serious pain, watching TV and doing laundry. Friday, Melissa had to go to work, but I sat around, in serious pain, watching TV, talking on the phone, and surfing the internet. We did stir ourselves to go out Friday night, and hit Manhattan for dinner, then home to bed. Saturday was a lovely brunch at Frozen Monkey Cafe, where we were served delicious food by their staff of drug addicts and lobotomy victims. Then, Kevin gave me a ride to the airport and our visit was over.

Thank you, Melissa and Kevin! It was fun!