131108 – Sihanoukville
This morning started a little easier than yesterday. While Paul had decided to start learning how to snore, I didnt have the rolling thunder of a hang-over. Prodding my roomie until he realised it would be a good idea to stop, snoozing continued for another hour or so.
Me: Whats this thing?
Brain: Oh, its a watch..
Me: Whats it do?
*groan* OI! PAUL! Youve got 10 minutes before the others leave for the National Park Tour
*groooooooooan* thanks mate..
It was now unaviodable, the day had begun.
Taking care not to perform any rash actions, like leaving the hotel room too early, I worked through a little repacking and a light rehab workout. Im still trying to work-off the set-back caused by my food-poisoning experience, itll still take at least a few weeks though. One day of throwing up in bed and I was back to feeling shaky by the time I finished the exercises.. sigh
Having convened with Andy and Katie, there was the real possibility of beach, breakfast, hunting for lobster and then taking a Tuk-Tuk out to the prettier, more secluded beach. There was the vague agreement to meet up when we all decided to go.. probably not going to happen.
Now to get onto what Ive been doing for the last two hours, please excuse my blatant bragging and grinding of salt into the wounds of my friends working back home..
Dropping off the key, its only a short walk out of the front gate, past the round-about and up the hill. Every minute or so, a local will pull past and ask if you would like a motorbike, tuk-tuk, ride, need to go somewhere and so on. This is always performed in a suprisingly pleasant and friendly manner. A smile and shake of the hand is all it takes and they move on. There isnt the harrassment that was common in Vietnam, they dont hound or stalk you half-way up the street, they dont start trying to offer you women or drugs. A smile and a wave, everyone goes on their way.
Passing the little restaurant where we met for the boat-ride, I noticed the others were still there. Wandering in, I couldnt tell if they had already eaten or were still waiting. There were a few hung-over eyes and I chatted with Kate, finding out that they would be back some time after sunset.
Making my way further on, I caught myself wishing that there were a few more of the others that werent toxically hung-over. It would be nice if there was some company for breakfast. Though, this way I would only be ignoring the conversation of the ocean while I wrote my journal.
Passing the last gaggle of Tuk-Tuks, I smiled at their business proposals and pointed at the last 20m to the beach when they asked where I was going. Smiles and chuckles were shared on both side of the cultural divide. Dodging between a little shop (ooh, can get water here on the way back!) and a couple of bars, I was on the sand.
The stretch of bars, clubs and restaurants stretches for about 2 kilometers down the coast. Most of the beach-chairs and eateries are empty, considering the early hour and the full-moon festival of last night. There is still a healthy mix of locals riccochetting between scantily clad westerners, platters of fruit on their head or trying to sell manicures or sunglasses. The sand is white, the sea is warm.
Stopping on the concrete patio of a restaurant, my sandals come off. The narrow strip of sand is damp enough that it is not hot, the lapping of the water is no reason to jump out of the way. After the first foot-bath, I take a small step closer to the water so that the gentle embrace of the ocean is familiar a little more often.
The tourists here dot the beach, buying goods or services from the locals, snacking on breakfast meals or waiting for drinks to arrive. The boys pretend to not look at the girls, the girls pretend to not notice the boys. Beached whales recline next to a model having a quiet holiday, couples alternate between scoping out the talent walking by and growling at their partner for doing the same. By the time Ive decided on breakfast, 200 europeans are roasting in a great strip-mine of future skin-cancer.
The ocean, deep, blue and beautiful stretches out to a horizon that I want to touch. Islands that are no longer strange to me guard the view to my left and a silky shadow is faint on my right horizon. Speaking quiety of distant places, of the beauty that I am surrounded by, of the long voyage to home. The petite waves troll up and down the shore, wet and almost thick they bring in a tiredness that you didnt realise you were feeling. Bringing you rest, they draw back out to sea, taking the sharp tingle of stress from you without any regard for your consent. This is the ocean and you are only mortal, here it is kind. Allow it to do with you as it pleases.
Finding Charlotte and Andy oozed out on chairs beneath a particularly broad umbrella, we exchange notes on the seriousness of the situation. Breakfast is mentioned, lobsters are discussed. I retreat a little further from the coast, finding a table and a waiter to order from. Promises of coffee and home-made muesli are punctuated by the screams of a jet-ski.
As I sit and start to type, the ocean continues its relentless onslaught. Locals walk by, selling fruit, sunglasses and nail-care. Children with beads for sale or strings of cans to recylce walk by, quietly scoping out any bleeding-hearts in the crowd. The coffee is strong and sweet, the cerial has enough fruit to please a cardiologist. It is still too early for a Mojito, but the sun is warm and the sea might forgive me. Only if I go for a swim in its sleepy folds.
This is the instant that I have searched for. I wish Jenny was here. I wish my friends from university could have even just a second of this, a respite from study. This one second is perfect, the gentle purr of the water as the rhythm, the shifting chairs and music from a nearby bar offering a quiet melody. A chorus of excited screams and laughter playing on queue, the wind its conductor.
I think the ocean will forgive a midday mojito, but only if I promise to make it up to her. This afternoon will be spent in exhaultation to her, in here quiet and secluded beaches. There will be a lunch of lobster, that we all promised each other. There will be an afternoon of drinks and protracted homage to the sea.
This will be a beautiful day.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
121108 - Sihanoukville
121108 - Sihanoukville
It took a couple of alarms to get me up this morning, last night had been large and sleep had not been enough. We were meant to be meeting for breakfast for the boat trip, Kevin appeared carrying a monstrous hangover to check that I would be on my way shortly. Having conducted my morning routine, Vickie was in a bad mood and grumbling when I got to the restaurant, I was a few minutes late but not the last to arrive. I responded by being overly cheerful, gaining some sadistic pleasure at watching a couple of hang-overs start to curdle.
Breakfast was a delicate affair, coffee that desperately needed milk, more sugar and less burn along with some banana pancakes that were passable though only rumoured to contain banana. The number of ripe hangovers in the group left a handful of pancakes unfinished. That didnt stop them from buying a case of beer from the restaurant, Adam and myself restrained. This would be a very long day for some.
As soon as we finished eating, we met the three others who would be joining us. They were on the Intrepid trip in the opposite direction in a group of 16. While walking to the boat we made introductions. I met Marek who was from Norway, I later found out he was a Doctor. Alex was a pretty and chatty girl from the UK, she was on holidays from the rut back home and worked in a childrens nursery. She was investigating going back to study child psychology. Through Alex, I chatted to Julia who was a medical graduate from ANU. Having studied in Jos class, we compared stories of our mutual friends and I caught up on everything they had been doing since I spoke to them last in January. All of my ANU friends seem to have made great strides and I made a mental note to email them over the next few days.
By this point we had walked over the hill and along the beach to the boat. The beach was just as white as yesterday and the various establishments were catering for their few guests that were suitably sentient at this time of the day. The boat was fairly basic, a long hull with a handful of benches for seating. A frame and lines held a tarpoline about a foot above sittting head hieght, to offer some shelter for the day. Two 11HP small stationary engines were mounted on hinged platforms, their drive-shafts connected to long poles with a propellor at the end.
The boat ride out took about half an hour, we rode the gentle surf along and across the bay. Dropping anchor on the mainland side of a small island, the crew dropped fishing lines and we adorned masks and snorkels. Alex hung back on the boat, not confident in ocean swimming. Sat braved the unknown and climbed in for a bit of a paddle. Adam surfaced and announced it was about 10m depth, no one held onto their mask for long as the visibility was dreadful.
Having swam for about half an hour, we slowly accumulated on the deck. The crew had caught some little fish which were proudly displayed. The anchor was hauled in and one of the engines moved us on.
We arrived at the island about another 30 minutes later. Crew helping us off the boat and asking us to take our bags with us. I chatted with Marek and Sat just under an hour while the others swam or played ball games. Having graduated 2-3 years ago, Marek and I compared features of our respective medical and education systems. The conversation flowed on as we all met at a bungalo for lunch. The chicken kebabs with rice and salad was most welcome and left many of us feeling a little drowsy. While most of the group walked through to the other side of the island, I occupied a hammock and daydreamed.
About an hour or so after lunch, the others reappeared. We packed up at a leasurely pace and accumulated back on the boat. The trip home took about 45 minutes, gently surging through the sea as some of the brits roasted themselves on the fore-deck. While it was a poor-cousin to the tales of the boating day in Nha Trang, it had been a lovely excursion.
Back at the bay, the two Intrepid groups bid farewell. Julia and I agreed to do the facebook thing, Id have more than a couple of emails to get out. Our group wandered down the beach until depositing ourselves at a bar. I still didnt feel like making the afternoon a heavy one, heading back to use the internet instead.
Following Paul and one of the girls, we tried an internet cafe that was also a bookshop before moving onto one that appeared to have a bit better speed. The next few hours were filled with calls to home, Jenny, banking and trying to sort out a hire-car for my time in Bega. Id desperately needed to hear Mum and Jennys voices and was missing home by the time I finished up. Id finally gotten the new flight dates for my option, Dec 11 and 24.
We met for dinner back at the same cafe as our first lunch. I got there a little early and was shortly joined by Charlotte and Vickie, they seemed to be getting along again. Kevin wasnt far behind and we soon had the whole team. This time almost everyone ordered Amoke dishes, the particularly tasty one that Id had for the first lunch. Sat and I split an Amoke and a Green Curry. We had Sophie join us for splitting some spring rolls and deep-fried shrimp.
The dinner was pleasant enough, everyone was still feeling a little hung-over or ill. I dont think there was the energy to be snarky. The volume of dishes they had to produce meant that the Amoke was a little less remarkable than yesterday, lacking a little bit of OOMPH. It was still pleasant enough and performed its duties admirably.
As the group paid and dispersed, I went back to the hotel to chill for a little bit. Charlotte came back with Andy, she needed to relieve me of a little buscopan for her tummy. I think everyone has been ill at least once on this trip and some have suffered more than others. After vegging out for about an hour, I wandered back up and over the hill to join the others.
Wandering along the beach, I finally found the rest of the group at the Sessions bar. By this point, most of them were through their first bucket of mixed spirits (think equivalent of a small jug). There were firespinners practicing their trade with staffs, most of us had a shot at it as well. I gave up pretty quickly, Id trained with the Bo staff a few years ago but couldnt do most of showy stuff Id learned without getting my hands into the fire-regions. Adam seemed to enjoy being the showy one of the group.
There were a liberal selection of drinks making their way around the table, I sampled the RedBull and Vodka bucket that came my way as well as the Gin & Tonic that was forced into my hands. I didnt really want to spend any money tonight and certainly didnt want to have a big one.
The only real motivation for making attendance tonight was for the Full Moon party. A Budhist monthly celebration, we were told that this was the most significant one for the year. Hoping to see something showy, I stuck around till midnight for the supposed event.
As the night drew on, the fire-spinners were more daring in their displays, the drinks were more liberal and the group plus guide got more drunk. I kept to myself, making conversation and just chilling out. As midnight dres on, the fire-spinners soaked the sign SESSIONS in kerosene before standing it up on posts a few metres out into the sea. As the clock hit the hour, they put on their display of fire-staffs and dancing on the other side of the metal letters, breathing fire to light up the sign. By this point, Kevin had disappeared to a nearby shrine to pray.
Watching the fire-dancers, we missed the actual Full Moon ceremony. Quietly taking place with our backs turned. Supposedly, it is comprised of the locals holding up incense and fruits as offerings to the moon. Prayers and intentions are made for the next month. Simple and brief.
With midnight been and gone, I hung around for a little more before making my way back. Id been tired well and truly before this point and it was only the promise of the Full Moon Party that got me down here.
I walked Vickie back to the hotel, I get the impression that she was in a similar mindset regarding the events of the evening.
It took a couple of alarms to get me up this morning, last night had been large and sleep had not been enough. We were meant to be meeting for breakfast for the boat trip, Kevin appeared carrying a monstrous hangover to check that I would be on my way shortly. Having conducted my morning routine, Vickie was in a bad mood and grumbling when I got to the restaurant, I was a few minutes late but not the last to arrive. I responded by being overly cheerful, gaining some sadistic pleasure at watching a couple of hang-overs start to curdle.
Breakfast was a delicate affair, coffee that desperately needed milk, more sugar and less burn along with some banana pancakes that were passable though only rumoured to contain banana. The number of ripe hangovers in the group left a handful of pancakes unfinished. That didnt stop them from buying a case of beer from the restaurant, Adam and myself restrained. This would be a very long day for some.
As soon as we finished eating, we met the three others who would be joining us. They were on the Intrepid trip in the opposite direction in a group of 16. While walking to the boat we made introductions. I met Marek who was from Norway, I later found out he was a Doctor. Alex was a pretty and chatty girl from the UK, she was on holidays from the rut back home and worked in a childrens nursery. She was investigating going back to study child psychology. Through Alex, I chatted to Julia who was a medical graduate from ANU. Having studied in Jos class, we compared stories of our mutual friends and I caught up on everything they had been doing since I spoke to them last in January. All of my ANU friends seem to have made great strides and I made a mental note to email them over the next few days.
By this point we had walked over the hill and along the beach to the boat. The beach was just as white as yesterday and the various establishments were catering for their few guests that were suitably sentient at this time of the day. The boat was fairly basic, a long hull with a handful of benches for seating. A frame and lines held a tarpoline about a foot above sittting head hieght, to offer some shelter for the day. Two 11HP small stationary engines were mounted on hinged platforms, their drive-shafts connected to long poles with a propellor at the end.
The boat ride out took about half an hour, we rode the gentle surf along and across the bay. Dropping anchor on the mainland side of a small island, the crew dropped fishing lines and we adorned masks and snorkels. Alex hung back on the boat, not confident in ocean swimming. Sat braved the unknown and climbed in for a bit of a paddle. Adam surfaced and announced it was about 10m depth, no one held onto their mask for long as the visibility was dreadful.
Having swam for about half an hour, we slowly accumulated on the deck. The crew had caught some little fish which were proudly displayed. The anchor was hauled in and one of the engines moved us on.
We arrived at the island about another 30 minutes later. Crew helping us off the boat and asking us to take our bags with us. I chatted with Marek and Sat just under an hour while the others swam or played ball games. Having graduated 2-3 years ago, Marek and I compared features of our respective medical and education systems. The conversation flowed on as we all met at a bungalo for lunch. The chicken kebabs with rice and salad was most welcome and left many of us feeling a little drowsy. While most of the group walked through to the other side of the island, I occupied a hammock and daydreamed.
About an hour or so after lunch, the others reappeared. We packed up at a leasurely pace and accumulated back on the boat. The trip home took about 45 minutes, gently surging through the sea as some of the brits roasted themselves on the fore-deck. While it was a poor-cousin to the tales of the boating day in Nha Trang, it had been a lovely excursion.
Back at the bay, the two Intrepid groups bid farewell. Julia and I agreed to do the facebook thing, Id have more than a couple of emails to get out. Our group wandered down the beach until depositing ourselves at a bar. I still didnt feel like making the afternoon a heavy one, heading back to use the internet instead.
Following Paul and one of the girls, we tried an internet cafe that was also a bookshop before moving onto one that appeared to have a bit better speed. The next few hours were filled with calls to home, Jenny, banking and trying to sort out a hire-car for my time in Bega. Id desperately needed to hear Mum and Jennys voices and was missing home by the time I finished up. Id finally gotten the new flight dates for my option, Dec 11 and 24.
We met for dinner back at the same cafe as our first lunch. I got there a little early and was shortly joined by Charlotte and Vickie, they seemed to be getting along again. Kevin wasnt far behind and we soon had the whole team. This time almost everyone ordered Amoke dishes, the particularly tasty one that Id had for the first lunch. Sat and I split an Amoke and a Green Curry. We had Sophie join us for splitting some spring rolls and deep-fried shrimp.
The dinner was pleasant enough, everyone was still feeling a little hung-over or ill. I dont think there was the energy to be snarky. The volume of dishes they had to produce meant that the Amoke was a little less remarkable than yesterday, lacking a little bit of OOMPH. It was still pleasant enough and performed its duties admirably.
As the group paid and dispersed, I went back to the hotel to chill for a little bit. Charlotte came back with Andy, she needed to relieve me of a little buscopan for her tummy. I think everyone has been ill at least once on this trip and some have suffered more than others. After vegging out for about an hour, I wandered back up and over the hill to join the others.
Wandering along the beach, I finally found the rest of the group at the Sessions bar. By this point, most of them were through their first bucket of mixed spirits (think equivalent of a small jug). There were firespinners practicing their trade with staffs, most of us had a shot at it as well. I gave up pretty quickly, Id trained with the Bo staff a few years ago but couldnt do most of showy stuff Id learned without getting my hands into the fire-regions. Adam seemed to enjoy being the showy one of the group.
There were a liberal selection of drinks making their way around the table, I sampled the RedBull and Vodka bucket that came my way as well as the Gin & Tonic that was forced into my hands. I didnt really want to spend any money tonight and certainly didnt want to have a big one.
The only real motivation for making attendance tonight was for the Full Moon party. A Budhist monthly celebration, we were told that this was the most significant one for the year. Hoping to see something showy, I stuck around till midnight for the supposed event.
As the night drew on, the fire-spinners were more daring in their displays, the drinks were more liberal and the group plus guide got more drunk. I kept to myself, making conversation and just chilling out. As midnight dres on, the fire-spinners soaked the sign SESSIONS in kerosene before standing it up on posts a few metres out into the sea. As the clock hit the hour, they put on their display of fire-staffs and dancing on the other side of the metal letters, breathing fire to light up the sign. By this point, Kevin had disappeared to a nearby shrine to pray.
Watching the fire-dancers, we missed the actual Full Moon ceremony. Quietly taking place with our backs turned. Supposedly, it is comprised of the locals holding up incense and fruits as offerings to the moon. Prayers and intentions are made for the next month. Simple and brief.
With midnight been and gone, I hung around for a little more before making my way back. Id been tired well and truly before this point and it was only the promise of the Full Moon Party that got me down here.
I walked Vickie back to the hotel, I get the impression that she was in a similar mindset regarding the events of the evening.
111108 – Home stay to Sihanoukville
111108 – Home stay to Sihanoukville
Today was meant to start at 0645, supposedly it would be breakfast at the Eco-Tourism park and then the walk to the waterfall deep within its boundaries. However, I do not doubt that the extra carton of beer from the night before had some say in the activities of the morning.
Sometime before dawn, Id started to get cold and for some reason thought my mosquito net was a sheet. Waking up several hours later, I found myself half covered by its protective layer. Readjusting it and unfolding the blanket, I was soon much more comfortable. The alarm clock at 630 was the sound of pigs squealing in delight at their breakfast and a couple of roosters competing for dominance of the yard.
Getting downstairs at about 7, I waited with Andy Bailey and Paul. Paul retreated into his music player before long and Andy started engaging the local kids. Taking photos and playing little games, he seemed to be a real hit. One of the little boys was showing everyone his favourite toy, a long stick with a Y-branch on the end and a tin can mounted between its points. He truly loved it deeply and was very proud of it.
I got out my camera out and both Andy and myself took some photos of the little crowd of shy, smiling faces. Leaving him to his audience, I went over and started trying to talk to the farmer. Using simple words, I showed him photos of Mum and Dad, Stephanie, Jenny and me. We managed to talk about our families and farms using no words more than Mamma, Pappa, Big, Small and Pig. We took photos of each other with the farming tools and his little property.
Leaving Nee to get back to fixing his motor bike, I waited with the others. The bus arrived about half an hour late and Andy took a snap of me with the farmer and his wife. I quite enjoyed this little encounter with the locals, there were too few opportunities to have such moments without being drenched with tourism rubbish.
The bus ride was the same as yesterday, we made it to the bridge and walked the rest of the way. A breakfast of bread, egg and onion omlette, bananas and suprisingly excellent instant coffee was waiting for us. A little cold from our lack of punctuality, it was an excellent breakfast and I certainly felt much better for having eaten. I think I was alone in my opinion of the morning, there were some seriously bad moods in the group and roaring hangovers.
Yesterday, there had been a fair bit of excitement at the suggestion of going to the waterfall. That attitude had reversed today and it was a struggle to get enough of us for the guide to be included. Katie, Paul, Matt, Vickie and myself were the only participants.
There was a very acceptable path the whole way through the forrest and it was an incredibly beautiful walk. It was still too early for any of the vendors to have set up their little stands for visitors to buy drinks and snacks from. Our guide was quite friendly and spoke incredibly legible english, though his vocabulary definitely needed some more work. It was several kilometers to the waterfall, the last one was through the mountain itself. The guide gave me the Eco Tourism speech that I am sure he had been given in training. In the background was the sound of a nearby river, the mix of trees, vines and bamboo painted a poetic picture as we progressed. The hill itself was a pleasant climb, the path was well marked and there was a fair bit to see.
Climbing up and down the folds of the mountain, the sound of the waterfall began to grow louder. The forest had turned into something like a rain-forest as we descended the last set of stairs. Mist hung heavy in the air and there was moisture on everything. Vines and creepers had been trimmed of their barbs for the benefit of travellers to the area, suddenly we were there. The Waterfall broke through the trees in an amazing panorama, we made it down the last few steps and were standing nearly beneath it. The great roar of an impossible volume of water pounding down the 40 metres onto the rocks below, such force dashing the water up into the air in greatt drifts of mist. There was no real pool at the base, simply rocks that seperated the little torrents of water. Continueing to follow the suggestion of gravity, these torrents rushed around the surrounding rocks and formed small rivers sprinting down the slopes and off into the forrest.
Still cautious of my knee, especially after the effects of my brush with food-poisoning, I stayed near the stairs while the others climbed out on the rocks. The amount of water in the air was impressive, all of them were saturated before reaching the particular view they desired. Soaked to the bone, with they great cascade above them, I looked on with envy while they took photographs and lingered for a while.
Their minds filled with waterfalls, we regrouped at the base of the stairs and started the return journey. This was a little slower than the walk before, those in the lead frequently stopping for those behind. Soaking wet, with the temperature and humidity on the rise, it would be a very squelchy trip back. Most of the group had worn flip-flop sandals, now a problem as the spiders and bugs of the region started to warm up and look for breakfast. There more than a few squeals by one of the girls as creepy-crawlies fled for cover.
At first in the front, then dropping back. I eventually walked with just the guide. One of the girls hadnt appreciated me teasing her about the wisdom of wearing thongs with spiders about, two of the other travellers had began a comparative analysis of PhotoShop. The guide and I walked in a mix of silence and his attempts at teaching me Khmer. We smiled and waved at the Cambodian travellers and local stall owners on the trip back. I took my time and for the first time, for a long time, felt like I was ACTUALLY travelling. Travelling, rather being a spectator on a Contiki Shag-Fest.
I was in a much better mood when I got back to the group. We all said our goodbyes and took photos with the locals. A few minutes later we were back at the bus and off to pick-up Sat and Miff, who had opted to sleep in. The obligatory throwing around of bags to make seating available was all that delayed our departure.
Heading out of the village, we passed children playing at the bridge. Squealing in delight and waving madly as we drove past and took photos, some of them tried chasing the bus or just jumped up and down and laughed. The rest of the trip as a whole consisted of snoozing, daydreaming out of the window, dropping of the esky from the night before, more driving and chilling out. We were told it would be about 2 hours to get to Sihanoukville.
After dropping the esky off at the little shop from the day before, I assume we took a different route to head to the sea. It was a long drive and everyone was still more than a little tired.
About halfway through the trip, there was a noise and a sudden sluggishness of the bus. Pulling over, the driver and Kevin got out, an inspection of the tires revealed the driver-side rear outer tire had blown a wall. Having Duals on the rear wheels meant we could progress on to the next market-place to get it repaired. Im not sure if they might have had the facilities on the bus, I somewhat doubt it.
Driving at a crawl for the next 20 minutes, we arrived at a little road-side complex. Consisting of an open fronted, corrugated iron shed and a small canteen a dozen metres off to one side, it was a simple afair. We disembarked to make use of the cheap drinks at the canteen while the workers set to the task. The shed had the familiar smell of mud, oil, grease and animals. The appearance and feel of the building and the equipment housed within it could very easily have been directly transplanted from any one of a hundred farm-workshops that I have been in. It was uncanny and made me more than a little nostalgic, the machinery and structures of this place were so much like that I grew up with. Even the humidity, temperature and feel of the place could easily have been an misserable overcast Pingrup day in Autumn or Spring.
Having completed their duties, Kevin passed on that we could get back on. We finished our chilling out at the canteen, gulped down the last of our cold-drinks and grabbed bottles of water. It would be another hour and a half to the Beach.
The rest of the drive was mostly unremarkable. We passed a couple of mansion complexes that had been long since deserted. There were one or two resorts showing signs of neglect as we got closer to the coast. The main feature of the road had been the high walls found along random stretches. Walls that had not been filled in at the base (started at head-hieght) or were missing metal work to fill in the top. The solid fences were only along the road, the rest of each perimeter might be ring-lock, bamboo or non-existent.
We saw the ocean first while crossing over a hill, we were finally within reach of our destination. There were more impressive buildings, Kevin relating some stories regarding the owners and influential people who were involved. Sihanoukville itself appeared to be remarkably spread out, there was an impressive amount of construction taking place and the giant vacant lots seemed to be placeholders for future development.
Pulling in next to a giant roundabout with two gold-coloured statues of lions, we had arrived at our hotel.
Disembarking and checking in, the concensus was to have half an hour to shower and freshen up. Then, lunch.
Paul and I were mercifully in a groundfloor room to the back of the complex. Smelling faintly mouldy, it had air conditioning and was more comfortable than much of my previous accomodation. We dumped gear, cleaned up and went back to the front office.
Lunch was at a restaurant where Kevin knew the owners. Promptly seated and ordering fruit-shakes, we marvelled at the menu of western and local food. Hearing the words It comes out in a coconut, I followed our guides suggestion and ordered the Chicken Amoke. There were more than a few orders of cheeseburgers, various fish-dishes, so on.
The fruit-shakes were gone, the plate of deep-fried shrimp that Matt orderd as an Entre had been eviscerated. The food was taking a little while to appear.
Finally, the wait was over.. Indeed, it DID come in a coconut. The top had been cut in a circle and was used as a lid.
WOW...
I mean... WOW WOW!!!
Chicken Amoke is remarkably similar to a Thai Red Curry. A little more subtle but with a hint of extra bite, it was a singly most delicious meal that I would not soon forget. Foregoing fork and spook, the first taste resulted in me dumping half of the rice directly into the coconut. Stirring it around with the little laddel I had been provided with, I ate it straight out of the great round fruit. The little laddel was an excellent eating implement, well suited for the task, allowing me to offer the occasional dip to my friends. There was a mix of wonder and jealousy in response, I have the sneaking suspicion that many more of this particular dish will be ordered in the future.
Lunch done and check completed, we moved en-masse to the beach. It was a short walk up the hill, past a number of internet cafes, bars and restaurants. Dozens of Tuk-Tuks and motorbikes called us to hire them, a smile and wave of No had them moving on with no hard feelings. At the top of the hill, we continued straight. The sealed road curved to the left and we followed the gravel street straight down the hill. Passing little shops that sold cloathing, music, hair-cuts, swimsuits and the like, we stopped off to buy a frisby, tennisball and volley-ball. Passing a couple of hotels and restaurants, there was a little dodge between some close buildings that marked the end of the gravel. Suddenly, we were on the beach.
Stepping onto the sand, there would be litterally a hundred little bars and cafes stretching down the coast. Everything from small hotel complexes and guest-houses, to shanties that had a bar at the back. Chairs and seats dotted the narrow stretch of sand between establishments and water, one place even had a little tree-house out the front!
We started walking along, looking for inspiration. It was only a minute or so before footwear came off and we waded through the water. It was beautiful and warm, clear and tranquil. Before long we came to an establishment called something like Musslies. It had free pool and a series of tables with comfy-chairs condensed out of thin air, it was a sign. Also, it was Happy Hour.
Dropping gear with the non-swimmers, they ordered drinks and most of us dived into the surf.
Ive had baths colder than this.
The water was as wonderful as it had been alluring from the shore. We swam around and games started soon enough, the cheap frisby paying for itself in short order. Diving about, there was nothing that could be faulted about the place. Heading in after a suitable time, we sat on the great round chairs with their deep cushions and dried in the sun. Beer was $0.50 and cocktails were all $1.50.
To our great delight, about an hour into our chill-out session, Kevin appeared with Sophie in tow. She had just arrived and had been sorely missed by the group as a whole. She took a spot in the group and we all started to play catch-up. Andy B was especially happy to see her, they were quite close and he was glad to get his watch back.
The next three hours was spent lashing out, there would have been at least 4 Mojitos and just as many beers to fill the time. The cocktails were strong enough to strip paint, doing a wonderful job at accompanying the sun disappearing into the overcast sunset. Most of the group was taking Doxycycline to protect against malaria, which also acts to make you a cheap drunk. Letting my hair down, I didnt fly quite as far below the radar. The snarkier members of the group quickly found out that my sense of humour was not as bland as Id been broadcasting and suitably sharp conversation had a couple of the others thinking that had to get me tipsy more often :p
As the time passed, the urchins appeared. Most of the group haggled to get knotted wrist bands that had the Cambodian flag featured in it. Watching them made, while entertaining myself with another Mojito, we were all suitably impressed. There were the promises on both sides to seek each other out to Only buy from me!! or to seek us out to sell other gifts. Finally it was time for dinner and we wandered around until we stumbled on the restaurant that Kevin had negotiated for us.
We were a little disappointed on being seated. The owner had decided to increase the prices for us and it was only because of the reservation that we didnt go elsewhere. We got the owner to drop the price of the drinks to be the same as the other bars, which he was not overjoyed about. The meals were $3.50 instead of $3.00, not a lot but it was more than we had been promised. Some of the group made a point of only ordering food that was $3 or less, to prove the point. I lashed out the extra $0.50 for the Fish BBQ as recommended. It was a fair assortment of squid and fish when it arrived. Back home it could have cost as much as $20-30 for the same meal. Drinks were had and in all it was entirely acceptable.
Having had my fill of Mojitos, fish and beer, I decided prudence might the order of the evening. I was getting towards the end of my course of Cipro for my tummy and didnt want to push it. Also, as is customary for such amazing holiday situations, I was starting to miss Jenny and started to feel like an early night.
Paul and I made our way back to the hotel, the walk was much the same as this afternoon. A pause was required for footware and a lot of fending off enthusiastic Tuk-Tuk drivers. Most of the establishments on the road were still open and active. This was a resort town, tonight would be a big night for most of its occupants.
Back at the hotel, I think Paul swapped out some gear before heading back to the beach. I made use of the shower and had the early night I had promised myself.
Today had been a good day, I really needed a good break in a place like this.
Today was meant to start at 0645, supposedly it would be breakfast at the Eco-Tourism park and then the walk to the waterfall deep within its boundaries. However, I do not doubt that the extra carton of beer from the night before had some say in the activities of the morning.
Sometime before dawn, Id started to get cold and for some reason thought my mosquito net was a sheet. Waking up several hours later, I found myself half covered by its protective layer. Readjusting it and unfolding the blanket, I was soon much more comfortable. The alarm clock at 630 was the sound of pigs squealing in delight at their breakfast and a couple of roosters competing for dominance of the yard.
Getting downstairs at about 7, I waited with Andy Bailey and Paul. Paul retreated into his music player before long and Andy started engaging the local kids. Taking photos and playing little games, he seemed to be a real hit. One of the little boys was showing everyone his favourite toy, a long stick with a Y-branch on the end and a tin can mounted between its points. He truly loved it deeply and was very proud of it.
I got out my camera out and both Andy and myself took some photos of the little crowd of shy, smiling faces. Leaving him to his audience, I went over and started trying to talk to the farmer. Using simple words, I showed him photos of Mum and Dad, Stephanie, Jenny and me. We managed to talk about our families and farms using no words more than Mamma, Pappa, Big, Small and Pig. We took photos of each other with the farming tools and his little property.
Leaving Nee to get back to fixing his motor bike, I waited with the others. The bus arrived about half an hour late and Andy took a snap of me with the farmer and his wife. I quite enjoyed this little encounter with the locals, there were too few opportunities to have such moments without being drenched with tourism rubbish.
The bus ride was the same as yesterday, we made it to the bridge and walked the rest of the way. A breakfast of bread, egg and onion omlette, bananas and suprisingly excellent instant coffee was waiting for us. A little cold from our lack of punctuality, it was an excellent breakfast and I certainly felt much better for having eaten. I think I was alone in my opinion of the morning, there were some seriously bad moods in the group and roaring hangovers.
Yesterday, there had been a fair bit of excitement at the suggestion of going to the waterfall. That attitude had reversed today and it was a struggle to get enough of us for the guide to be included. Katie, Paul, Matt, Vickie and myself were the only participants.
There was a very acceptable path the whole way through the forrest and it was an incredibly beautiful walk. It was still too early for any of the vendors to have set up their little stands for visitors to buy drinks and snacks from. Our guide was quite friendly and spoke incredibly legible english, though his vocabulary definitely needed some more work. It was several kilometers to the waterfall, the last one was through the mountain itself. The guide gave me the Eco Tourism speech that I am sure he had been given in training. In the background was the sound of a nearby river, the mix of trees, vines and bamboo painted a poetic picture as we progressed. The hill itself was a pleasant climb, the path was well marked and there was a fair bit to see.
Climbing up and down the folds of the mountain, the sound of the waterfall began to grow louder. The forest had turned into something like a rain-forest as we descended the last set of stairs. Mist hung heavy in the air and there was moisture on everything. Vines and creepers had been trimmed of their barbs for the benefit of travellers to the area, suddenly we were there. The Waterfall broke through the trees in an amazing panorama, we made it down the last few steps and were standing nearly beneath it. The great roar of an impossible volume of water pounding down the 40 metres onto the rocks below, such force dashing the water up into the air in greatt drifts of mist. There was no real pool at the base, simply rocks that seperated the little torrents of water. Continueing to follow the suggestion of gravity, these torrents rushed around the surrounding rocks and formed small rivers sprinting down the slopes and off into the forrest.
Still cautious of my knee, especially after the effects of my brush with food-poisoning, I stayed near the stairs while the others climbed out on the rocks. The amount of water in the air was impressive, all of them were saturated before reaching the particular view they desired. Soaked to the bone, with they great cascade above them, I looked on with envy while they took photographs and lingered for a while.
Their minds filled with waterfalls, we regrouped at the base of the stairs and started the return journey. This was a little slower than the walk before, those in the lead frequently stopping for those behind. Soaking wet, with the temperature and humidity on the rise, it would be a very squelchy trip back. Most of the group had worn flip-flop sandals, now a problem as the spiders and bugs of the region started to warm up and look for breakfast. There more than a few squeals by one of the girls as creepy-crawlies fled for cover.
At first in the front, then dropping back. I eventually walked with just the guide. One of the girls hadnt appreciated me teasing her about the wisdom of wearing thongs with spiders about, two of the other travellers had began a comparative analysis of PhotoShop. The guide and I walked in a mix of silence and his attempts at teaching me Khmer. We smiled and waved at the Cambodian travellers and local stall owners on the trip back. I took my time and for the first time, for a long time, felt like I was ACTUALLY travelling. Travelling, rather being a spectator on a Contiki Shag-Fest.
I was in a much better mood when I got back to the group. We all said our goodbyes and took photos with the locals. A few minutes later we were back at the bus and off to pick-up Sat and Miff, who had opted to sleep in. The obligatory throwing around of bags to make seating available was all that delayed our departure.
Heading out of the village, we passed children playing at the bridge. Squealing in delight and waving madly as we drove past and took photos, some of them tried chasing the bus or just jumped up and down and laughed. The rest of the trip as a whole consisted of snoozing, daydreaming out of the window, dropping of the esky from the night before, more driving and chilling out. We were told it would be about 2 hours to get to Sihanoukville.
After dropping the esky off at the little shop from the day before, I assume we took a different route to head to the sea. It was a long drive and everyone was still more than a little tired.
About halfway through the trip, there was a noise and a sudden sluggishness of the bus. Pulling over, the driver and Kevin got out, an inspection of the tires revealed the driver-side rear outer tire had blown a wall. Having Duals on the rear wheels meant we could progress on to the next market-place to get it repaired. Im not sure if they might have had the facilities on the bus, I somewhat doubt it.
Driving at a crawl for the next 20 minutes, we arrived at a little road-side complex. Consisting of an open fronted, corrugated iron shed and a small canteen a dozen metres off to one side, it was a simple afair. We disembarked to make use of the cheap drinks at the canteen while the workers set to the task. The shed had the familiar smell of mud, oil, grease and animals. The appearance and feel of the building and the equipment housed within it could very easily have been directly transplanted from any one of a hundred farm-workshops that I have been in. It was uncanny and made me more than a little nostalgic, the machinery and structures of this place were so much like that I grew up with. Even the humidity, temperature and feel of the place could easily have been an misserable overcast Pingrup day in Autumn or Spring.
Having completed their duties, Kevin passed on that we could get back on. We finished our chilling out at the canteen, gulped down the last of our cold-drinks and grabbed bottles of water. It would be another hour and a half to the Beach.
The rest of the drive was mostly unremarkable. We passed a couple of mansion complexes that had been long since deserted. There were one or two resorts showing signs of neglect as we got closer to the coast. The main feature of the road had been the high walls found along random stretches. Walls that had not been filled in at the base (started at head-hieght) or were missing metal work to fill in the top. The solid fences were only along the road, the rest of each perimeter might be ring-lock, bamboo or non-existent.
We saw the ocean first while crossing over a hill, we were finally within reach of our destination. There were more impressive buildings, Kevin relating some stories regarding the owners and influential people who were involved. Sihanoukville itself appeared to be remarkably spread out, there was an impressive amount of construction taking place and the giant vacant lots seemed to be placeholders for future development.
Pulling in next to a giant roundabout with two gold-coloured statues of lions, we had arrived at our hotel.
Disembarking and checking in, the concensus was to have half an hour to shower and freshen up. Then, lunch.
Paul and I were mercifully in a groundfloor room to the back of the complex. Smelling faintly mouldy, it had air conditioning and was more comfortable than much of my previous accomodation. We dumped gear, cleaned up and went back to the front office.
Lunch was at a restaurant where Kevin knew the owners. Promptly seated and ordering fruit-shakes, we marvelled at the menu of western and local food. Hearing the words It comes out in a coconut, I followed our guides suggestion and ordered the Chicken Amoke. There were more than a few orders of cheeseburgers, various fish-dishes, so on.
The fruit-shakes were gone, the plate of deep-fried shrimp that Matt orderd as an Entre had been eviscerated. The food was taking a little while to appear.
Finally, the wait was over.. Indeed, it DID come in a coconut. The top had been cut in a circle and was used as a lid.
WOW...
I mean... WOW WOW!!!
Chicken Amoke is remarkably similar to a Thai Red Curry. A little more subtle but with a hint of extra bite, it was a singly most delicious meal that I would not soon forget. Foregoing fork and spook, the first taste resulted in me dumping half of the rice directly into the coconut. Stirring it around with the little laddel I had been provided with, I ate it straight out of the great round fruit. The little laddel was an excellent eating implement, well suited for the task, allowing me to offer the occasional dip to my friends. There was a mix of wonder and jealousy in response, I have the sneaking suspicion that many more of this particular dish will be ordered in the future.
Lunch done and check completed, we moved en-masse to the beach. It was a short walk up the hill, past a number of internet cafes, bars and restaurants. Dozens of Tuk-Tuks and motorbikes called us to hire them, a smile and wave of No had them moving on with no hard feelings. At the top of the hill, we continued straight. The sealed road curved to the left and we followed the gravel street straight down the hill. Passing little shops that sold cloathing, music, hair-cuts, swimsuits and the like, we stopped off to buy a frisby, tennisball and volley-ball. Passing a couple of hotels and restaurants, there was a little dodge between some close buildings that marked the end of the gravel. Suddenly, we were on the beach.
Stepping onto the sand, there would be litterally a hundred little bars and cafes stretching down the coast. Everything from small hotel complexes and guest-houses, to shanties that had a bar at the back. Chairs and seats dotted the narrow stretch of sand between establishments and water, one place even had a little tree-house out the front!
We started walking along, looking for inspiration. It was only a minute or so before footwear came off and we waded through the water. It was beautiful and warm, clear and tranquil. Before long we came to an establishment called something like Musslies. It had free pool and a series of tables with comfy-chairs condensed out of thin air, it was a sign. Also, it was Happy Hour.
Dropping gear with the non-swimmers, they ordered drinks and most of us dived into the surf.
Ive had baths colder than this.
The water was as wonderful as it had been alluring from the shore. We swam around and games started soon enough, the cheap frisby paying for itself in short order. Diving about, there was nothing that could be faulted about the place. Heading in after a suitable time, we sat on the great round chairs with their deep cushions and dried in the sun. Beer was $0.50 and cocktails were all $1.50.
To our great delight, about an hour into our chill-out session, Kevin appeared with Sophie in tow. She had just arrived and had been sorely missed by the group as a whole. She took a spot in the group and we all started to play catch-up. Andy B was especially happy to see her, they were quite close and he was glad to get his watch back.
The next three hours was spent lashing out, there would have been at least 4 Mojitos and just as many beers to fill the time. The cocktails were strong enough to strip paint, doing a wonderful job at accompanying the sun disappearing into the overcast sunset. Most of the group was taking Doxycycline to protect against malaria, which also acts to make you a cheap drunk. Letting my hair down, I didnt fly quite as far below the radar. The snarkier members of the group quickly found out that my sense of humour was not as bland as Id been broadcasting and suitably sharp conversation had a couple of the others thinking that had to get me tipsy more often :p
As the time passed, the urchins appeared. Most of the group haggled to get knotted wrist bands that had the Cambodian flag featured in it. Watching them made, while entertaining myself with another Mojito, we were all suitably impressed. There were the promises on both sides to seek each other out to Only buy from me!! or to seek us out to sell other gifts. Finally it was time for dinner and we wandered around until we stumbled on the restaurant that Kevin had negotiated for us.
We were a little disappointed on being seated. The owner had decided to increase the prices for us and it was only because of the reservation that we didnt go elsewhere. We got the owner to drop the price of the drinks to be the same as the other bars, which he was not overjoyed about. The meals were $3.50 instead of $3.00, not a lot but it was more than we had been promised. Some of the group made a point of only ordering food that was $3 or less, to prove the point. I lashed out the extra $0.50 for the Fish BBQ as recommended. It was a fair assortment of squid and fish when it arrived. Back home it could have cost as much as $20-30 for the same meal. Drinks were had and in all it was entirely acceptable.
Having had my fill of Mojitos, fish and beer, I decided prudence might the order of the evening. I was getting towards the end of my course of Cipro for my tummy and didnt want to push it. Also, as is customary for such amazing holiday situations, I was starting to miss Jenny and started to feel like an early night.
Paul and I made our way back to the hotel, the walk was much the same as this afternoon. A pause was required for footware and a lot of fending off enthusiastic Tuk-Tuk drivers. Most of the establishments on the road were still open and active. This was a resort town, tonight would be a big night for most of its occupants.
Back at the hotel, I think Paul swapped out some gear before heading back to the beach. I made use of the shower and had the early night I had promised myself.
Today had been a good day, I really needed a good break in a place like this.
101108 – Homestay
101108 – Homestay
Get up, post-office.
Send suit home – expensive
back to hotel, breakfast not arrive
Gear on bus
Ride
Sleep
Ride
Buy beer, snacks, drinks
Arrive, see both houses
Drive and then walk to Eco-tourism place
Look at Solar kit, cant fix the inverter
Dinner and drinks, drinking games
Bus back to homestay
Short-tempers, growl at Mat
others stay to drink
Kate, Sat, Me chat at sleeper.
Get up, post-office.
Send suit home – expensive
back to hotel, breakfast not arrive
Gear on bus
Ride
Sleep
Ride
Buy beer, snacks, drinks
Arrive, see both houses
Drive and then walk to Eco-tourism place
Look at Solar kit, cant fix the inverter
Dinner and drinks, drinking games
Bus back to homestay
Short-tempers, growl at Mat
others stay to drink
Kate, Sat, Me chat at sleeper.
091108 – Saigon to Phnom Pen
091108 – Saigon to Phnom Pen
Get up, growl at Adam
visit little shop for deodorant
Cyclos and walk to bus station
Catch bus
Bus ride
Border crossing, wait, line, back on bus
lunch at restaurant
bus ride
ferry
bus ride
hotel
wander around
Roast Dinner and internet
Meet group
dinner at non-profit restaurant
wander back to hotel
chill with Paul
Monster rain
Get up, growl at Adam
visit little shop for deodorant
Cyclos and walk to bus station
Catch bus
Bus ride
Border crossing, wait, line, back on bus
lunch at restaurant
bus ride
ferry
bus ride
hotel
wander around
Roast Dinner and internet
Meet group
dinner at non-profit restaurant
wander back to hotel
chill with Paul
Monster rain
081108 - Saigon
081108 - Saigon
Cu Chi tunnels
Propoganda Video
Walking tour through jungle
Nasty traps
AK-47 and M30 range
Climb through tunnels
Kitchen
Snack on cooked root with peanuts and salt, tea
Buy grenade lighter
Bus trip back
Chill out in hotel room for rest of the day
Dinner at Mexican restaurant
chill out at hotel, repack
Adam is a jerk
Cu Chi tunnels
Propoganda Video
Walking tour through jungle
Nasty traps
AK-47 and M30 range
Climb through tunnels
Kitchen
Snack on cooked root with peanuts and salt, tea
Buy grenade lighter
Bus trip back
Chill out in hotel room for rest of the day
Dinner at Mexican restaurant
chill out at hotel, repack
Adam is a jerk
071108 – Saigon
071108 – Saigon
Arrival, bus to hotel
dump bags
orientation walk
Pho2000, Market, Opera house, Post-Office, Notre-Dame, Park, Reunification Palace
Coffee shop at Window
Wander past Diamond Plaza to check out movie times,
Checked out market
Back to hotel and chilled all day
Drop laundry off
Dinner at outdoor market
Get money out
Back to hotel room
Arrival, bus to hotel
dump bags
orientation walk
Pho2000, Market, Opera house, Post-Office, Notre-Dame, Park, Reunification Palace
Coffee shop at Window
Wander past Diamond Plaza to check out movie times,
Checked out market
Back to hotel and chilled all day
Drop laundry off
Dinner at outdoor market
Get money out
Back to hotel room
061108 – Nha Trang
061108 – Nha Trang
Sleep-in
Breakfast with Paul
Wander down beach in pouring rain
Back to hotel
Internet all day – Banking, Skype, Snazzy, phone
Dinner with crew at Italian place – Discount
Hotel till train station – 2 hour delay
Sleeper carriage with Charlotte, Sat and Paul
Sleep-in
Breakfast with Paul
Wander down beach in pouring rain
Back to hotel
Internet all day – Banking, Skype, Snazzy, phone
Dinner with crew at Italian place – Discount
Hotel till train station – 2 hour delay
Sleeper carriage with Charlotte, Sat and Paul
051108 – Nha Trang
051108 – Nha Trang
Sleep all day – violently ill
Get Well card
Pot-noodle
Sleep
Victoria – Trip to hospital
Sleep all day – violently ill
Get Well card
Pot-noodle
Sleep
Victoria – Trip to hospital
041108 – Hoi An
041108 – Hoi An
Pack, checkout
internet, check banking
Train station, wait, repack, get-on, arguments over seats get-off, wait
Train trip
meal
play game
start the violent illness
still ill
ill some more
Arrive at Nha Trang
Hotel and sleep
Pack, checkout
internet, check banking
Train station, wait, repack, get-on, arguments over seats get-off, wait
Train trip
meal
play game
start the violent illness
still ill
ill some more
Arrive at Nha Trang
Hotel and sleep
031108 – Hoi An
031108 – Hoi An
Bus trip to My Son
Scorching heat, wander around ruins in the forrest
back to Nha Trang
Lunch
Suit fitting
Hotel
Go to police with Dat
Beg, plead, haggle till cops receive report
Back to hotel
Dinner across street, ages for meals to arrive
hunt for cake, give up
Inspect suits from reception
pack and sleep
Bus trip to My Son
Scorching heat, wander around ruins in the forrest
back to Nha Trang
Lunch
Suit fitting
Hotel
Go to police with Dat
Beg, plead, haggle till cops receive report
Back to hotel
Dinner across street, ages for meals to arrive
hunt for cake, give up
Inspect suits from reception
pack and sleep
021108 – Hoi An
021108 – Hoi An
Sleep-in, work-out
Meet with others and go for Breakfast
Walk through markets
Suit-fitting
Book shopping
Lunch at cafe and book My Son for tomorrow
Back to hotel, Paul has work-out
Beach with Paul, Matt and Vickie
Jog with Paul
Beach, drinks, dinner
Others join
head back early, no internet, write report
Journal, recheck finances, sleep.
Sleep-in, work-out
Meet with others and go for Breakfast
Walk through markets
Suit-fitting
Book shopping
Lunch at cafe and book My Son for tomorrow
Back to hotel, Paul has work-out
Beach with Paul, Matt and Vickie
Jog with Paul
Beach, drinks, dinner
Others join
head back early, no internet, write report
Journal, recheck finances, sleep.
011108 – Hue to Hoi An
011108 – Hue to Hoi An
Rise, Pack, quick breakfast and internet
Arrange for room-swap with Paul and Matt.
Bus and depart
Hue countryside
Stop at resort for South China Sea – run into Greg and Alice
Cloudy Pass Mountain photos
Stop at Marble mountain, some climb it, others coffee
Drive to Hoi An
Hotel
Find phone missing
Go out to bus and look
Lunch at Cafe
Orientation tour
Search hotel again
Phone Optus for details and block
ride to police station – Dat insisting that I be liberal in my story
second station – sent home
Hang by pool
Drinks
Internet
Sleep
Rise, Pack, quick breakfast and internet
Arrange for room-swap with Paul and Matt.
Bus and depart
Hue countryside
Stop at resort for South China Sea – run into Greg and Alice
Cloudy Pass Mountain photos
Stop at Marble mountain, some climb it, others coffee
Drive to Hoi An
Hotel
Find phone missing
Go out to bus and look
Lunch at Cafe
Orientation tour
Search hotel again
Phone Optus for details and block
ride to police station – Dat insisting that I be liberal in my story
second station – sent home
Hang by pool
Drinks
Internet
Sleep
311008 – Hue
311008 – Hue
wake briefly to say hi to Andy and others as they head for bike-ride at 0800hr, everyone had a big night
Sleep in till 1100hr
get up and do rehab workout
meet up with Paul and Matt
email and finish workout
head out to lunch near olympic stadium = AWESOME LUNCH
wander down to river
boat ride for an hour, girl desperate to sell stuff
get dropped off and cross bridge to find temples
tea and coffee at little restaurant
find first temple
walk along river but cant find the side-road to next temple
walk the rest of the river-road, saying hello to local kids and shop-owners
get directions back to the bridge, talking to locals, photo of lady with cigar, buy bread snacks
cross over and walk through markets
toilet stop at KFC
walk across bridge and take night-time photos
walk back to hotel
chill till dinnertime
meet downstairs, Dat wants money for not going on bike-tour
dinner, run into Greg and Alice
walk back to hotel with Greg and Alice
chill in hotel room, emails, read Transmetropolitan, write journal
wake briefly to say hi to Andy and others as they head for bike-ride at 0800hr, everyone had a big night
Sleep in till 1100hr
get up and do rehab workout
meet up with Paul and Matt
email and finish workout
head out to lunch near olympic stadium = AWESOME LUNCH
wander down to river
boat ride for an hour, girl desperate to sell stuff
get dropped off and cross bridge to find temples
tea and coffee at little restaurant
find first temple
walk along river but cant find the side-road to next temple
walk the rest of the river-road, saying hello to local kids and shop-owners
get directions back to the bridge, talking to locals, photo of lady with cigar, buy bread snacks
cross over and walk through markets
toilet stop at KFC
walk across bridge and take night-time photos
walk back to hotel
chill till dinnertime
meet downstairs, Dat wants money for not going on bike-tour
dinner, run into Greg and Alice
walk back to hotel with Greg and Alice
chill in hotel room, emails, read Transmetropolitan, write journal
301008 – Hue
301008 – Hue
Train arrival
Bus to hotel
Early check-in
AirCon and chill
Workout and showers
Run into Greg and Alice
Taxis to lunch
Awesome lunch restaurant
Beer-opening
Street-kid art
Pancakes – crispy
Walk to Forbidden City
Moat
Gate house
Coy pond
Throne/audience room
courtyard, icecream
ADVENTURING
Walking past construction zone,
Emperors reading room,
Covered walk-ways,
Raised stages and pagodas
Dragon and Phoenix puppets and medical student selling toothpicks
Tennis Court
Rear expanse of moat and guys fishing
Rear wall and Gatehouse
Walking back and around
Almost heading to exit
Finding the demolished temple complex and walking through
Palace of Queens mother
Complex for Temples for Royals, taking shoes off,
Back to entrance, climb to top of gate-house
Head to Eastern side
Temple with guard trying to get money from me
Have a look through the back of compound and see plant nursery
College of fine-arts
Leave and walk back
Across small bridge, ask for directions, across big bridge
long walk,
get to hotel
chill out in room, get ready for dinner
dinner at DMZ cafe
find out about Bega accommodation via free wifi
leave with Vickie so she can call to change flights
two internet cafes later...
walk back to hotel, vickie uses skype..
chill and journal write.
Train arrival
Bus to hotel
Early check-in
AirCon and chill
Workout and showers
Run into Greg and Alice
Taxis to lunch
Awesome lunch restaurant
Beer-opening
Street-kid art
Pancakes – crispy
Walk to Forbidden City
Moat
Gate house
Coy pond
Throne/audience room
courtyard, icecream
ADVENTURING
Walking past construction zone,
Emperors reading room,
Covered walk-ways,
Raised stages and pagodas
Dragon and Phoenix puppets and medical student selling toothpicks
Tennis Court
Rear expanse of moat and guys fishing
Rear wall and Gatehouse
Walking back and around
Almost heading to exit
Finding the demolished temple complex and walking through
Palace of Queens mother
Complex for Temples for Royals, taking shoes off,
Back to entrance, climb to top of gate-house
Head to Eastern side
Temple with guard trying to get money from me
Have a look through the back of compound and see plant nursery
College of fine-arts
Leave and walk back
Across small bridge, ask for directions, across big bridge
long walk,
get to hotel
chill out in room, get ready for dinner
dinner at DMZ cafe
find out about Bega accommodation via free wifi
leave with Vickie so she can call to change flights
two internet cafes later...
walk back to hotel, vickie uses skype..
chill and journal write.
291008 - Hanoi
291008 - Hanoi
Breakfast at internet place, hopeless food and worse bandwidth
Sort out local payment, try 3 atms.
Get gear, we head to post-office. I get taxi with one lot, then walk, meet others there.
Post gear home
wander back to city
internet and coffee at G.Jeans
chat to Aussies from Brissie on their way to teach english in China
head back towards hotel, grab KFC on the way,
chill at hotel, charge gear in Vickies room. TV.
Bus to train-station,
Board train and set up gear
Platoon movie viewing
Read stuff off of laptop
sleep
Breakfast at internet place, hopeless food and worse bandwidth
Sort out local payment, try 3 atms.
Get gear, we head to post-office. I get taxi with one lot, then walk, meet others there.
Post gear home
wander back to city
internet and coffee at G.Jeans
chat to Aussies from Brissie on their way to teach english in China
head back towards hotel, grab KFC on the way,
chill at hotel, charge gear in Vickies room. TV.
Bus to train-station,
Board train and set up gear
Platoon movie viewing
Read stuff off of laptop
sleep
291008 - Hanoi
291008 - Hanoi
Breakfast at internet place, hopeless food and worse bandwidth
Sort out local payment, try 3 atms.
Get gear, we head to post-office. I get taxi with one lot, then walk, meet others there.
Post gear home
wander back to city
internet and coffee at G.Jeans
chat to Aussies from Brissie on their way to teach english in China
head back towards hotel, grab KFC on the way,
chill at hotel, charge gear in Vickies room. TV.
Bus to train-station,
Board train and set up gear
Platoon movie viewing
Read stuff off of laptop
sleep
Breakfast at internet place, hopeless food and worse bandwidth
Sort out local payment, try 3 atms.
Get gear, we head to post-office. I get taxi with one lot, then walk, meet others there.
Post gear home
wander back to city
internet and coffee at G.Jeans
chat to Aussies from Brissie on their way to teach english in China
head back towards hotel, grab KFC on the way,
chill at hotel, charge gear in Vickies room. TV.
Bus to train-station,
Board train and set up gear
Platoon movie viewing
Read stuff off of laptop
sleep
281008 – Catba Island to Hanoi
281008 – Catba Island to Hanoi
Get up and meet in reception
bus out to boat
take boat out amongst islands, arrive at pontoon-house
get in Kyaks, Im paired with Miff.
Paddle out and about, trying to remember technique and giving Miff instructions.
Scenery, go under rocks to enclosed lagoon, village of pontoon-houses and fishermen
arrive at little island and swim from the beach
arrive back at the pontoon house for lunch
lunch of fish, squid, chips, vegetables
boat takes us to monkey island
Swim for a little bit, much colder..
chill out on deck-chair
monkeys arrive, noisy and threatening to group
boat picks us up and we return to Catba Island
little break at hotel
most go to cafe for food and drinks
bus back to boat, fast-hydrofoil back to mainland
bus back to hanoi
walk to puppet-theatre
show.. little unimpressed..
wander off to find Half-Man ½ noodle bar
no food there, group splits.
Street-meat!!! chicken noodle soup
drinks at Half-man, buy shirt
run into others at cheap beer corner, couple of drinks,
back to hotel, internet next door, buy water, chill in room.
Get up and meet in reception
bus out to boat
take boat out amongst islands, arrive at pontoon-house
get in Kyaks, Im paired with Miff.
Paddle out and about, trying to remember technique and giving Miff instructions.
Scenery, go under rocks to enclosed lagoon, village of pontoon-houses and fishermen
arrive at little island and swim from the beach
arrive back at the pontoon house for lunch
lunch of fish, squid, chips, vegetables
boat takes us to monkey island
Swim for a little bit, much colder..
chill out on deck-chair
monkeys arrive, noisy and threatening to group
boat picks us up and we return to Catba Island
little break at hotel
most go to cafe for food and drinks
bus back to boat, fast-hydrofoil back to mainland
bus back to hanoi
walk to puppet-theatre
show.. little unimpressed..
wander off to find Half-Man ½ noodle bar
no food there, group splits.
Street-meat!!! chicken noodle soup
drinks at Half-man, buy shirt
run into others at cheap beer corner, couple of drinks,
back to hotel, internet next door, buy water, chill in room.
271008 – Hanoi to Halong Bay
271008 – Hanoi to Halong Bay
Sleep in and miss chance for breakfast,
no internet for checking bank
Get on bus
1.5hr trip, scener
Crafts centre, misserable food and coffee. Beef fried noodles
Back on bus
1.5hrs more
arrive at jetty, buy silly hats. Adam and others still smoking
onto boat, Vickie nearly gets left behind,
drinks and then lunch. Seafood lunch of AWESOME
scenery, girls sunning on upper deck
stop out in the islands, jump in from upper deck and swim
first swim of 6 months.
Swim to duck-island and climb on top.
Swim back, doing ok.
Head for Catba Island, arrive and bus to hotel
pretty scenery
check-in, dump gear and go to warf to watch sunset, some head on to beach
back to hotel, chill, shower
head down for dinner, drinks. Happy-hour cocktails, mojito, 2 mai tai, banana dacqueri
cheese-burger, stop drinks
chat to Paul
head back, get laptop and find internet.
Back to hotel, Andy thinks Im asleep in room
others head out for drinks, I head to bed.
Sleep in and miss chance for breakfast,
no internet for checking bank
Get on bus
1.5hr trip, scener
Crafts centre, misserable food and coffee. Beef fried noodles
Back on bus
1.5hrs more
arrive at jetty, buy silly hats. Adam and others still smoking
onto boat, Vickie nearly gets left behind,
drinks and then lunch. Seafood lunch of AWESOME
scenery, girls sunning on upper deck
stop out in the islands, jump in from upper deck and swim
first swim of 6 months.
Swim to duck-island and climb on top.
Swim back, doing ok.
Head for Catba Island, arrive and bus to hotel
pretty scenery
check-in, dump gear and go to warf to watch sunset, some head on to beach
back to hotel, chill, shower
head down for dinner, drinks. Happy-hour cocktails, mojito, 2 mai tai, banana dacqueri
cheese-burger, stop drinks
chat to Paul
head back, get laptop and find internet.
Back to hotel, Andy thinks Im asleep in room
others head out for drinks, I head to bed.
261008 – Hanoi
261008 – Hanoi
Full Rehab workout
Goodbye to Mike and June
Wander with Andy B
Nasty street breakfast
Down to lake for coffee, pastry and browsing
KFC breakfast top-up
Find Post-office
Dude trying to sell post-cards
TukTuks to DVD shop, get X-Files for Neil
Back to hotel, chill out for the arvo
Repack,
Watch DVDs with Adam, Andy and Kate
Blackout
Group meeting, new people – Matthew and Paul
Group Dinner
ATM eats my card
Street Market
Street Beers
Back to hotel, internet attempts
Repack and sleep
Full Rehab workout
Goodbye to Mike and June
Wander with Andy B
Nasty street breakfast
Down to lake for coffee, pastry and browsing
KFC breakfast top-up
Find Post-office
Dude trying to sell post-cards
TukTuks to DVD shop, get X-Files for Neil
Back to hotel, chill out for the arvo
Repack,
Watch DVDs with Adam, Andy and Kate
Blackout
Group meeting, new people – Matthew and Paul
Group Dinner
ATM eats my card
Street Market
Street Beers
Back to hotel, internet attempts
Repack and sleep
251008 – Hanoi
251008 – Hanoi
Early arrival, minibusses to hotel
3-room check-in
Go wandering to Lake
Run into Mike & June
Watch ladies with swords doing Kung Fu
Walk around lake
Temple on the island
People exercising
back to hotel
Crazy crazy traffic
Chill out in the guys room
Basic orientation walk
Brunch at restaurant
DVD shopping with guys.. massive selection & justifying purchases
Motorcycle tour of hanoi
Hanoi Hilton
French quarter
B-52 wreck
John McCain statue at the lakes
Bikes back to DVD shop & purchases
Walk back to hotel
Showers
Head out to the street pub corner
lots of $0.30 beers
Dinner at Little Hanoi
Bike back to hotel with Vickie, others go clubbing. Chat and watch TV.
Andy´s story about motor bike ride with lady trying to pickpocket Sophie
Bed
Early arrival, minibusses to hotel
3-room check-in
Go wandering to Lake
Run into Mike & June
Watch ladies with swords doing Kung Fu
Walk around lake
Temple on the island
People exercising
back to hotel
Crazy crazy traffic
Chill out in the guys room
Basic orientation walk
Brunch at restaurant
DVD shopping with guys.. massive selection & justifying purchases
Motorcycle tour of hanoi
Hanoi Hilton
French quarter
B-52 wreck
John McCain statue at the lakes
Bikes back to DVD shop & purchases
Walk back to hotel
Showers
Head out to the street pub corner
lots of $0.30 beers
Dinner at Little Hanoi
Bike back to hotel with Vickie, others go clubbing. Chat and watch TV.
Andy´s story about motor bike ride with lady trying to pickpocket Sophie
Bed
241008 – Sapa to Hanoi
241008 – Sapa to Hanoi
Sleep-in
Local Breakfast
Group Breakfast
Sort drinks bill, pack and leave
Wait for mini-bus at bottom of hill, go for drinks
Drive back
Chill in hotel, shoe-cleaning, repack, lunch at Italian restaurant, go hunting for new day-pack, cake
Shower, internet, chill
Buy pack and Cake with Sophie
regroup down-stairs and wait for bus
Trip to train-station
Dinner with Vickie,
Board train
Chat with Mike and June, Write journal
Bed
Sleep-in
Local Breakfast
Group Breakfast
Sort drinks bill, pack and leave
Wait for mini-bus at bottom of hill, go for drinks
Drive back
Chill in hotel, shoe-cleaning, repack, lunch at Italian restaurant, go hunting for new day-pack, cake
Shower, internet, chill
Buy pack and Cake with Sophie
regroup down-stairs and wait for bus
Trip to train-station
Dinner with Vickie,
Board train
Chat with Mike and June, Write journal
Bed
231008 – Sapa trek
231008 – Sapa trek
Rise and arrange day-pack
Healthy breakfast with Andy, most of group
Gear-up an store main-packs
Mini-bus to trail start, local women swarming, narrow road with dude washing his car in the stream
Head off on trek, local women following us
Down, across bridge,
Tea with local home – drunk husband, local women waiting in distance
Start of the slippery trail, local women helping, using walking pole
Brief stops at huts
Death-like descents, woman not helping
Lunch – cucumber, tomatoe, egg sandwhiches
Continue on via the main-road
Next trail descent
Catch motorcycle from village with Sat and Sophie
Scooter ride to the home-stay
Chill for afternoon, till the others arrive
Sort beds,
drinks, entre and mains
Karaoke, random singing, complaints from neighbours
Girls get Ham drunk
Early night for me
Rise and arrange day-pack
Healthy breakfast with Andy, most of group
Gear-up an store main-packs
Mini-bus to trail start, local women swarming, narrow road with dude washing his car in the stream
Head off on trek, local women following us
Down, across bridge,
Tea with local home – drunk husband, local women waiting in distance
Start of the slippery trail, local women helping, using walking pole
Brief stops at huts
Death-like descents, woman not helping
Lunch – cucumber, tomatoe, egg sandwhiches
Continue on via the main-road
Next trail descent
Catch motorcycle from village with Sat and Sophie
Scooter ride to the home-stay
Chill for afternoon, till the others arrive
Sort beds,
drinks, entre and mains
Karaoke, random singing, complaints from neighbours
Girls get Ham drunk
Early night for me
221008 – Sapa
221008 – Sapa
Sleep-in, Western Breakfast in restaurant
Fog, clearing and thickening throughout the valley
Coffee and Cake with Mike and June,
Lunch with most of group in nearby restaurant
Chill out in Adam and Andys room, drinks
Chat with neil and sort emails
Group dinner in restaurant
Others go out for pool and drinks
Sort out emails and internet
Sleep
Sleep-in, Western Breakfast in restaurant
Fog, clearing and thickening throughout the valley
Coffee and Cake with Mike and June,
Lunch with most of group in nearby restaurant
Chill out in Adam and Andys room, drinks
Chat with neil and sort emails
Group dinner in restaurant
Others go out for pool and drinks
Sort out emails and internet
Sleep
211008 – Kunming to Vietnam
211008 – Kunming to Vietnam
Rise late
Buffet Breakfast
Email
Taxis to the bus terminal – lost, finally get there
Wait in hall
board, get old guys out of seats
Bus ride
Wait for crashed truck
Bus ride
swap tunes with Andy
Lunch
Bus ride from hell, Matthew sets up sleeper spot on the floor
Nasty toilet stop
Arrive at bus terminal
Immigration out of China
Walk across the bridge
Immigration into Viet Nam
Bus ride to Sapa
Dinner
Shower and bed
Rise late
Buffet Breakfast
Taxis to the bus terminal – lost, finally get there
Wait in hall
board, get old guys out of seats
Bus ride
Wait for crashed truck
Bus ride
swap tunes with Andy
Lunch
Bus ride from hell, Matthew sets up sleeper spot on the floor
Nasty toilet stop
Arrive at bus terminal
Immigration out of China
Walk across the bridge
Immigration into Viet Nam
Bus ride to Sapa
Dinner
Shower and bed
201008 - Kunming
201008 - Kunming
Arrive early on train,
Taxis to hotel
Buffet Breakfast
Chill in room with Andy
head out for lunch, finally find noodle shop, eat same as local (spicy) and some pork buns
Arrive back, emails and phone for changing airfares – SUCCESS
rest of group go to pool and gym
Chill with Adam and Andy – revise diving and talk of doing the course
go shopping for snacks with the girls, head back with Vickie
get back, chill
final dinner, roof-top restaurant, bowling :p
Drinks at club, I slow down early
Second club – flop
Charlotte being a pain
back to hotel, go out looking for water
bed
Arrive early on train,
Taxis to hotel
Buffet Breakfast
Chill in room with Andy
head out for lunch, finally find noodle shop, eat same as local (spicy) and some pork buns
Arrive back, emails and phone for changing airfares – SUCCESS
rest of group go to pool and gym
Chill with Adam and Andy – revise diving and talk of doing the course
go shopping for snacks with the girls, head back with Vickie
get back, chill
final dinner, roof-top restaurant, bowling :p
Drinks at club, I slow down early
Second club – flop
Charlotte being a pain
back to hotel, go out looking for water
bed
191008 – Kaili/Guiyang to Kunming
191008 – Kaili/Guiyang to Kunming
Exercises
Breakfast
Gear-up
Walk down to bus
Back to hotel
Internet, good-news, shower, re-pack
Lunch, ordered in Madarin
Gear-up
Taxi to bus station
Insane bus-driver
Walk to station – avoid porters
Leave gear in VIP section
Head out for local KFC lookalike, Dico
Wait and smiling at baby
Board train and play cards into the night.
Exercises
Breakfast
Gear-up
Walk down to bus
Back to hotel
Internet, good-news, shower, re-pack
Lunch, ordered in Madarin
Gear-up
Taxi to bus station
Insane bus-driver
Walk to station – avoid porters
Leave gear in VIP section
Head out for local KFC lookalike, Dico
Wait and smiling at baby
Board train and play cards into the night.
181008 – Rice Terraces – Kaili
181008 – Rice Terraces – Kaili
Rise, breakfast – rice porridge and boiled-eggs
Gear-up
Leave on trek
Walk for ~3 hours,
Flat bit, lunch at village in shop-owners house.
Uphill for most, rest at summit. Guy tilling his terrace with Ox and plough.
Walk through village
Traditional welcome
Nap – sharing with Mathew
Shower
Learn how to play Mahjong
Dinner and rice-wine
More Mahjong
Traditional dancing
Bed
Rise, breakfast – rice porridge and boiled-eggs
Gear-up
Leave on trek
Walk for ~3 hours,
Flat bit, lunch at village in shop-owners house.
Uphill for most, rest at summit. Guy tilling his terrace with Ox and plough.
Walk through village
Traditional welcome
Nap – sharing with Mathew
Shower
Learn how to play Mahjong
Dinner and rice-wine
More Mahjong
Traditional dancing
Bed
171008 – Rice Terraces - Kaili
171008 – Rice Terraces - Kaili
Rise, breakfast on the restaurant street (very small meal)
Wander with Andy-Baileys, Market-street to suburbia, back via main-street
Pack and gear-up
Store main-packs
Walk to lunch
Lunch of fresh-made noodles – delish! Bubble-tea next door
Local bus to private bus
Past Buffalo sale
Arrive near school
Photos of kids, A-Baileys plays basket ball with them
Trek through rice-terraces
along stream
very serene and peaceful
stop for a couple of breaks
Arrive late-afternoon
Get gender-separate rooms
Chill till dinner – beers and drinks
Large dinner and rice-wine
Cards
Learn how to play Chinese Chess from Mathew – I win
Chess with Fox – I win
Watch end of Poker game
Exercises – Bed
Rise, breakfast on the restaurant street (very small meal)
Wander with Andy-Baileys, Market-street to suburbia, back via main-street
Pack and gear-up
Store main-packs
Walk to lunch
Lunch of fresh-made noodles – delish! Bubble-tea next door
Local bus to private bus
Past Buffalo sale
Arrive near school
Photos of kids, A-Baileys plays basket ball with them
Trek through rice-terraces
along stream
very serene and peaceful
stop for a couple of breaks
Arrive late-afternoon
Get gender-separate rooms
Chill till dinner – beers and drinks
Large dinner and rice-wine
Cards
Learn how to play Chinese Chess from Mathew – I win
Chess with Fox – I win
Watch end of Poker game
Exercises – Bed
161008 – Leave Hong Kong
161008 – Leave Hong Kong
Rise late, send emails
Pack and gear-up
Meet and leave hotel
Bus to airport
Brief wait – Toilets and internet while Mathew gets tickets
Last minute check-in, no time for breakfast
Andy-Baileys and I get KFC for us plus Adam while Mike is bag-searched
Skarf food down and go through security
I get tripple-checked at metal detector
Wait for bus at gate – last email
Long wait on plane, depressing movie and lunch is served
Eventually depart
Arrive and collect gear
Bus to hotel
Meet Fox – Local Guide
Chill in hotel
Dinner on nearby dining-street
Chill for evening – sorting music players and internet
Full set of Rehab exercises, Bed
Rise late, send emails
Pack and gear-up
Meet and leave hotel
Bus to airport
Brief wait – Toilets and internet while Mathew gets tickets
Last minute check-in, no time for breakfast
Andy-Baileys and I get KFC for us plus Adam while Mike is bag-searched
Skarf food down and go through security
I get tripple-checked at metal detector
Wait for bus at gate – last email
Long wait on plane, depressing movie and lunch is served
Eventually depart
Arrive and collect gear
Bus to hotel
Meet Fox – Local Guide
Chill in hotel
Dinner on nearby dining-street
Chill for evening – sorting music players and internet
Full set of Rehab exercises, Bed
121008 – Lonji Trek
121008 – Lonji Trek
Get up
Rehab
Breakfast
Set out
Treking and scenery
Rests along the way
Treking
Lunch in new village
Chill out
Snooze
Walk up to top of hill – Seven Stars and Moon
Dinner
Talk to mum and dad
Bed
Get up
Rehab
Breakfast
Set out
Treking and scenery
Rests along the way
Treking
Lunch in new village
Chill out
Snooze
Walk up to top of hill – Seven Stars and Moon
Dinner
Talk to mum and dad
Bed
111008 – Guilin to Lonji
111008 – Guilin to Lonji
Breakfast
Packing and Bus ride
Check baggage
On bus
Trek for 40min
Lonji Terraces
Chill for afternoon
Guys playing sports
Dinner
Cards
Sleep – Early night
Breakfast
Packing and Bus ride
Check baggage
On bus
Trek for 40min
Lonji Terraces
Chill for afternoon
Guys playing sports
Dinner
Cards
Sleep – Early night
101008 – Outside Hostel
101008 – Outside Hostel
Rise after rotten night sleep
Bike ride
Countryside
School and little boy
Drinks and chill
Others climb Moon Hill
Lunch
Ride back
Chill for afternoon
Internet and hang with Sweden
Early night
Rise after rotten night sleep
Bike ride
Countryside
School and little boy
Drinks and chill
Others climb Moon Hill
Lunch
Ride back
Chill for afternoon
Internet and hang with Sweden
Early night
091008 – West Street to Outside Hostel
091008 – West Street to Outside Hostel
Sleep-in
Pack bags and checkout
Wander out for breakfast and internet
Walk around
Go back for extra jackets
Repack and head to post-office
Lunch with Dom
Mini-bus to outside hostel
Cooking Class
Dinner with Sweden
Early night – rotten sleep
Sleep-in
Pack bags and checkout
Wander out for breakfast and internet
Walk around
Go back for extra jackets
Repack and head to post-office
Lunch with Dom
Mini-bus to outside hostel
Cooking Class
Dinner with Sweden
Early night – rotten sleep
081008 – Yang Shou - West Street
081008 – Yang Shou - West Street
Late sleep-in
Late breakfast and free internet
Shopping
River Cruise
Dinner with group
Adam helps me negotiate for jacket and back-pack
Massage
Sleep
Late sleep-in
Late breakfast and free internet
Shopping
River Cruise
Dinner with group
Adam helps me negotiate for jacket and back-pack
Massage
Sleep
071008 - Train to Yang Shou - West Street
071008 - Train to Yang Shou - West Street
Train arrival
Bus to Yang Shou
Check-in
Orientation walk
Dinner
Sleep
Train arrival
Bus to Yang Shou
Check-in
Orientation walk
Dinner
Sleep
061008 – Shanghi to Train
061008 – Shanghi to Train
Free breakfast
Pack and checkout
Train to Yang Shou
Free breakfast
Pack and checkout
Train to Yang Shou
041008 – Shanghai
041008 – Shanghai
Sleep-in on train
Arrival and taxi to hotel
Check-in and showers
Lunch
Orientation walk
Browsing shops
Wander back
Drinks
Taxi to night-district
Drinks with Swedes
Wander
Meet up with others
Zapatas for dancing
Taxi back
Sleep
Sleep-in on train
Arrival and taxi to hotel
Check-in and showers
Lunch
Orientation walk
Browsing shops
Wander back
Drinks
Taxi to night-district
Drinks with Swedes
Wander
Meet up with others
Zapatas for dancing
Taxi back
Sleep
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
031008 – Xi'an
Today began with a sleep-in, definitely necessary considering the intestinal maelstrom I've been battling lately.
Finally, the decision was made that enough had been allocated, for now. Trying not to disturb Dom too much, I managed to pack, isolate the stuff that I was planning to post, take my morning dose of antibiotics, shower and chat to Charlotte from back home on the internet for a good hour. As I was finishing up my preparations, Dom appeared to reanimate and made a staggering lurch to the bathroom. Finishing quickly with the lights now on, we discussed the timings for the day and I made a hasty departure for the post-office.
Today would be an interesting exercise of choreography. I'd woken up early enough but had left the room much later than I'd planned. It was about 1030 when I ran into Adam, Katie and Sadat on the street and we agreed to meet at midday to tour the wall. This meeting would coincide with the checkout time, leaving about an hour to send my package home and get a coffee or go to the markets. There might be some time this afternoon, after the wall....
urgh, and I was feeling really wrotten.
The post-office was cloaked behind the facade of a mobile phone shop and two columns of teenagers dancing around with brochures, trying to advertise things to the locals. This appeared to be the only challenge for use, however, as once I got inside I was helped by everyone. One gent took my bag of stuff and packed it into a box (while inspecting it to make sure it was appropriate for postage) and then sealed it. Another girl (who spoke better English than I do, most elegant) gave me the forms to fill out and then processed it, along with selling me stamps to send my post-cards. In all, it cost about $40 to send the 2.9kg of hats, books, dolls and trinkets home via sea-mail.. maybe it would even get home before me!
One oddity was a man who appeared on the upper level of the post-office, screaming and bellowing. Making his way down the escalator at a break-neck speed and out the door, his cries of rage and anguish faded into the street. No one really seemed to notice or even interact, so I got back to my packaging.
Post-cards to my friends and package to parents on its way, it was time for some more sustenance. I'd had some fruit for breakfast and would have murdered for a nice bowl of muesli with yoghurt.. I was feeling far too dodgy for asian food and needed a pick-me up...
Starbucks was the only thing even remotely close to what I needed...
I felt dirty.. like a little piece of me had died while I ordered that coffee.
Technically, the coffee was well executed and fulfilled its purpose, and the Starbucks DID have free WiFi which allowed me to get the various applications on my iPhone to run properly.. but I was sad to once again stray from the “Traveller's way” and resort to that which was familiar.
The walk to the coffee shop had been punctuated by a crowd surrounding some creature screaming bloody-murder. Wandering close to the congregation of people, I saw above the heads and between legs that there was a man of similar appearance to the “expressive” chap that had broken the monotony in the post-office. Two other men were with him, one having put his arm into a lock-hold and the other working in concert to hold him on the ground by putting a foot on his neck. The continued screams and bellows of animal rage had me thinking that either the police with handcuffs or an ambulance with chemical restraints would probably be arriving before too long. Such voiceless expressions spoke of an inner pain, of loss beyond imagine, or of a near overdose of amphetamines.. Quietly slipping past, I continued through the subway towards my promises of coffee. There was nothing that I could possibly do to help here.
A little late on the trip back from the coffee shop to the hotel, I could only hope that I would be able to get to the markets in the Muslim quarter later. Meeting Adam and Andy in the lobby, they had waited for me and continued to wait while I fetched my bag and checked out. They truly are two of the most awesome travelling companions that I could ask for.
After briefly begging a maid to let me in (my key appeared to have stopped working at midday), jamming the last two things into my pack and humping down the hall to Lillian's room before a quick check-out, we were on our way.
The walk to the city wall was longer than I had originally remembered, I think that the last few days of exercises had done wonders to my knee though and I hardly noticed the walk or the pace. Meeting Greg and Alice inside of the wall, we started our little stroll along the battlements.
The Xi'an City Wall is a couple of kilometres along each face and encompasses all of the old city. It is approximately 20 metres high about street level on the interior wall and has a steep drop into a moat for much of the exterior wall that we saw. Wide enough for a dual-carriage way highway, it is an impressive piece of fortification. You could have park two or three mac trucks side by side on it.. or possibly land a plane along it, it is certainly long enough for the average run-way. The top of the wall facing the oncoming enemy was capped with parapets along its length, some with additional steps though the majority had their lower edge at waist height and the finished above my head. About every 200 metres there was either a guardhouse building or the vacancy for such a building, ongoing construction and restoration work was taking place in several locations.
Best traversed on a bicycle in less than “100 minutes”, such a convenience may be hired for 20 Yuan plus a 200 Yuan deposit (or leaving your passport).
Well, hired by anyone but us...
Despite having half a dozen of the two wheeled vehicles in their little yards, none of the bicycle vendors would loan us a machine... leaving us to start a fairly long walk..
Starting at the South Gate and walking about 1.5km to a giant circular outpost. Acting as the junction between the South and West wall, this outcrop worked in concert with the West gate to offer mutual coverage and protection. The view across the old city was much of what we had come to expect from the time we had spent here, a strange interspersed mix of ancient tile roofs with block concrete. Rejuvenated antiquity with decaying contemporary siblings. Looking out over the wall, the outer city was cloaked in the profoundly thick smog.
With visibility at a little over a kilometre, the skyscrapers that we had been unaware of till now were great looming shadows stretching high above the world. The ancient city wall had been shielding us much of the modern progression of this place.
Looking back along our path, the rows of red lanterns on the outer edge of the wall lined the distance. Disappearing into the thick atmosphere, we could not see where we had mounted the wall. Even each of the guard towers would have been beyond visible distance from each other.
We turned around and made our way back when we got to the West Gate, deciding that we would get lunch in what I remembered being introduced as the Academic district. These markets were much slower paced and no where near as packed as the Muslim quarter. Much more sedate and somewhat more refined, the shops sold brushes, ink, calligraphy and carved name-stamps. Stalls full of little curiosities, beads, bracelets and necklaces of carved stones and jade. This section of the city was devoid of the fade watches and sunglasses. There was no cheap-gaudy junk here, plenty of touristy things but certainly a lot more pleasant and refined than elsewhere. The vendors were no where near as busy, but felt no need to hassle or harass the people passing by. Foreigners were smiled at rather than confronted and it took a good minute or two of browsing before the inevitable “good price! what you want?!?!?!”
Working in tag-team with some of the others, I picked up a little fake jade necklace made of a small green disc with a centre hole and suspended on a red cord. Very similar to what I gave Marianne for Christmas a couple of years ago. Adam and Greg paid 5 Yaun to watch a man blow a little chicken out of toffee in the same way as you would from molten glass. Continuing on to lunch, I was still feeling really dodgy but joined the group for vegetarian dumplings. Absolutely delicious and incredibly cheap, we ate all we could for about 2 Yuan each (about 40 cents) and I started to feel a lot better.
We dispersed on the way back to the hotel, stocking up on fruit and food for the train journey tonight, I took off back to the markets in the Muslim quarter to pick up some final cheap junk..
Navigating through the crowd and tight corridors of the marketplace, I irritated a pair of pick-pockets by being a little too vigilant and made off to less dense areas. I picked up a little stamp and watched the older gentleman carve the chinese character translation of my name in the bottom. Incredibly impressive for freehand work, I also got a pack of postcards and a little container of ink thrown into the deal. Working forward, I got some filthy cheap Ray-Ban Aviator glasses knock-offs. I was tempted to get a fake Rolex, he was offering a reasonable price for the Automatic winders... but I resisted.
I was a little disappointed that I couldn't find the day-pack that I'd planned on buying, having to hunt for nearly an hour ot find a suitable substitute. That said, I got a nike knockoff at a lot less than I expected and it was a bit more compact. The girl convinced me to buy a leather wallet as well. She was unimpressed at how much I paid, the filthy look telling me that I wasn't getting ripped off too badly.
Purchases made and my new man-bag filled with the prizes of would-be pick-pockets, I took off back to the hotel feeling a lot safer about my possessions. Stopping only long enough to buy a cheap little combination lock, I noticed the stall with the day-pack I'd been hunting for earlier. Not taking the risk of seeing the bag I'd hunted for, I doubled my pace and told myself that I'd gotten a better case for my laptop at a much better price than I'd expected. Quit whining..
Back in the hotel, we shifted bags from the storage room to the lobby and killed time till the bus arrived. The short ride and little walk after had us sitting in the train station for about an hour. Managing to find free wifi, the technologically gifted amongst us made excellent use of the facilities. Soon enough, and half way through downloads, we bugged-out of our little refugee camp and made our way through the check-points to the platform. Long walk later, we were in our compartments and settling in for the night.
Tomorrow lunchtime would see us in Shanghi.
Finally, the decision was made that enough had been allocated, for now. Trying not to disturb Dom too much, I managed to pack, isolate the stuff that I was planning to post, take my morning dose of antibiotics, shower and chat to Charlotte from back home on the internet for a good hour. As I was finishing up my preparations, Dom appeared to reanimate and made a staggering lurch to the bathroom. Finishing quickly with the lights now on, we discussed the timings for the day and I made a hasty departure for the post-office.
Today would be an interesting exercise of choreography. I'd woken up early enough but had left the room much later than I'd planned. It was about 1030 when I ran into Adam, Katie and Sadat on the street and we agreed to meet at midday to tour the wall. This meeting would coincide with the checkout time, leaving about an hour to send my package home and get a coffee or go to the markets. There might be some time this afternoon, after the wall....
urgh, and I was feeling really wrotten.
The post-office was cloaked behind the facade of a mobile phone shop and two columns of teenagers dancing around with brochures, trying to advertise things to the locals. This appeared to be the only challenge for use, however, as once I got inside I was helped by everyone. One gent took my bag of stuff and packed it into a box (while inspecting it to make sure it was appropriate for postage) and then sealed it. Another girl (who spoke better English than I do, most elegant) gave me the forms to fill out and then processed it, along with selling me stamps to send my post-cards. In all, it cost about $40 to send the 2.9kg of hats, books, dolls and trinkets home via sea-mail.. maybe it would even get home before me!
One oddity was a man who appeared on the upper level of the post-office, screaming and bellowing. Making his way down the escalator at a break-neck speed and out the door, his cries of rage and anguish faded into the street. No one really seemed to notice or even interact, so I got back to my packaging.
Post-cards to my friends and package to parents on its way, it was time for some more sustenance. I'd had some fruit for breakfast and would have murdered for a nice bowl of muesli with yoghurt.. I was feeling far too dodgy for asian food and needed a pick-me up...
Starbucks was the only thing even remotely close to what I needed...
I felt dirty.. like a little piece of me had died while I ordered that coffee.
Technically, the coffee was well executed and fulfilled its purpose, and the Starbucks DID have free WiFi which allowed me to get the various applications on my iPhone to run properly.. but I was sad to once again stray from the “Traveller's way” and resort to that which was familiar.
The walk to the coffee shop had been punctuated by a crowd surrounding some creature screaming bloody-murder. Wandering close to the congregation of people, I saw above the heads and between legs that there was a man of similar appearance to the “expressive” chap that had broken the monotony in the post-office. Two other men were with him, one having put his arm into a lock-hold and the other working in concert to hold him on the ground by putting a foot on his neck. The continued screams and bellows of animal rage had me thinking that either the police with handcuffs or an ambulance with chemical restraints would probably be arriving before too long. Such voiceless expressions spoke of an inner pain, of loss beyond imagine, or of a near overdose of amphetamines.. Quietly slipping past, I continued through the subway towards my promises of coffee. There was nothing that I could possibly do to help here.
A little late on the trip back from the coffee shop to the hotel, I could only hope that I would be able to get to the markets in the Muslim quarter later. Meeting Adam and Andy in the lobby, they had waited for me and continued to wait while I fetched my bag and checked out. They truly are two of the most awesome travelling companions that I could ask for.
After briefly begging a maid to let me in (my key appeared to have stopped working at midday), jamming the last two things into my pack and humping down the hall to Lillian's room before a quick check-out, we were on our way.
The walk to the city wall was longer than I had originally remembered, I think that the last few days of exercises had done wonders to my knee though and I hardly noticed the walk or the pace. Meeting Greg and Alice inside of the wall, we started our little stroll along the battlements.
The Xi'an City Wall is a couple of kilometres along each face and encompasses all of the old city. It is approximately 20 metres high about street level on the interior wall and has a steep drop into a moat for much of the exterior wall that we saw. Wide enough for a dual-carriage way highway, it is an impressive piece of fortification. You could have park two or three mac trucks side by side on it.. or possibly land a plane along it, it is certainly long enough for the average run-way. The top of the wall facing the oncoming enemy was capped with parapets along its length, some with additional steps though the majority had their lower edge at waist height and the finished above my head. About every 200 metres there was either a guardhouse building or the vacancy for such a building, ongoing construction and restoration work was taking place in several locations.
Best traversed on a bicycle in less than “100 minutes”, such a convenience may be hired for 20 Yuan plus a 200 Yuan deposit (or leaving your passport).
Well, hired by anyone but us...
Despite having half a dozen of the two wheeled vehicles in their little yards, none of the bicycle vendors would loan us a machine... leaving us to start a fairly long walk..
Starting at the South Gate and walking about 1.5km to a giant circular outpost. Acting as the junction between the South and West wall, this outcrop worked in concert with the West gate to offer mutual coverage and protection. The view across the old city was much of what we had come to expect from the time we had spent here, a strange interspersed mix of ancient tile roofs with block concrete. Rejuvenated antiquity with decaying contemporary siblings. Looking out over the wall, the outer city was cloaked in the profoundly thick smog.
With visibility at a little over a kilometre, the skyscrapers that we had been unaware of till now were great looming shadows stretching high above the world. The ancient city wall had been shielding us much of the modern progression of this place.
Looking back along our path, the rows of red lanterns on the outer edge of the wall lined the distance. Disappearing into the thick atmosphere, we could not see where we had mounted the wall. Even each of the guard towers would have been beyond visible distance from each other.
We turned around and made our way back when we got to the West Gate, deciding that we would get lunch in what I remembered being introduced as the Academic district. These markets were much slower paced and no where near as packed as the Muslim quarter. Much more sedate and somewhat more refined, the shops sold brushes, ink, calligraphy and carved name-stamps. Stalls full of little curiosities, beads, bracelets and necklaces of carved stones and jade. This section of the city was devoid of the fade watches and sunglasses. There was no cheap-gaudy junk here, plenty of touristy things but certainly a lot more pleasant and refined than elsewhere. The vendors were no where near as busy, but felt no need to hassle or harass the people passing by. Foreigners were smiled at rather than confronted and it took a good minute or two of browsing before the inevitable “good price! what you want?!?!?!”
Working in tag-team with some of the others, I picked up a little fake jade necklace made of a small green disc with a centre hole and suspended on a red cord. Very similar to what I gave Marianne for Christmas a couple of years ago. Adam and Greg paid 5 Yaun to watch a man blow a little chicken out of toffee in the same way as you would from molten glass. Continuing on to lunch, I was still feeling really dodgy but joined the group for vegetarian dumplings. Absolutely delicious and incredibly cheap, we ate all we could for about 2 Yuan each (about 40 cents) and I started to feel a lot better.
We dispersed on the way back to the hotel, stocking up on fruit and food for the train journey tonight, I took off back to the markets in the Muslim quarter to pick up some final cheap junk..
Navigating through the crowd and tight corridors of the marketplace, I irritated a pair of pick-pockets by being a little too vigilant and made off to less dense areas. I picked up a little stamp and watched the older gentleman carve the chinese character translation of my name in the bottom. Incredibly impressive for freehand work, I also got a pack of postcards and a little container of ink thrown into the deal. Working forward, I got some filthy cheap Ray-Ban Aviator glasses knock-offs. I was tempted to get a fake Rolex, he was offering a reasonable price for the Automatic winders... but I resisted.
I was a little disappointed that I couldn't find the day-pack that I'd planned on buying, having to hunt for nearly an hour ot find a suitable substitute. That said, I got a nike knockoff at a lot less than I expected and it was a bit more compact. The girl convinced me to buy a leather wallet as well. She was unimpressed at how much I paid, the filthy look telling me that I wasn't getting ripped off too badly.
Purchases made and my new man-bag filled with the prizes of would-be pick-pockets, I took off back to the hotel feeling a lot safer about my possessions. Stopping only long enough to buy a cheap little combination lock, I noticed the stall with the day-pack I'd been hunting for earlier. Not taking the risk of seeing the bag I'd hunted for, I doubled my pace and told myself that I'd gotten a better case for my laptop at a much better price than I'd expected. Quit whining..
Back in the hotel, we shifted bags from the storage room to the lobby and killed time till the bus arrived. The short ride and little walk after had us sitting in the train station for about an hour. Managing to find free wifi, the technologically gifted amongst us made excellent use of the facilities. Soon enough, and half way through downloads, we bugged-out of our little refugee camp and made our way through the check-points to the platform. Long walk later, we were in our compartments and settling in for the night.
Tomorrow lunchtime would see us in Shanghi.
021008 – Xi'an
My alarm got me out of bed at a suitably early hour. This morning we would be visiting the Terracotta Warriors, reputed to be the EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD!!! I quickly refreshed myself and went out looking for breakfast and something to carry for lunch.
Having done a little surveillance from the hotel room, I crossed the street and picked up two little fried parcels. The first was filled with a fried egg. Though tasty, I was still a little spent on eggs after the middle east.. The first bite of the second parcel was heavenly, it was filled with a type of chopped and cooked spinach mixed with spring onions, chives and various other leafy greens. However, my exclamation of WOW quickly turned. The first bite was delightful, put the flavour of the morsel quickly became burdensome.
Breakfast partially completed, I reversed the steps of the orientation walk. Heading back towards one of the connecting streets, away from the main strip, I found the part of the city where all of the locals ate. Running into Petra and Anna on the way, we joined forces and chatted while selecting fruit and snacks for lunch. Failing to find any break in the little supermarkets, we each bought banana's and apples, the girls picking some more fruit, from the little trailers on the street. Prices were negotiated in sign language, I'd managed to start being able to hear the sounds of the different numbers but was still an awfully long way off of haggling.
The final victory of the morning was at a hot plate towed behind a bike. Happily paying the 2 or 3 Yuan, I watched with hungry eyes as the gentleman prepared a crepe. Smearing an egg across one side along with some chopped greens and then flipping it as soon as it had hardened, he filled what would become the interior with a crunchy type of deep-fried bread and a dark paste that had been spread across the thin batter. I'd seen these being cooked yesterday and had heard about them from Lillian. Now one of them was mine!
Breakfast was finished with the Swedish girls on the way back to the hotel. We chatted for the length of the little walk and then waited out the front for the rest of the group. Finally everyone had assembled and Lillian introduced the local guide for the day for giving a brief farewell along with instructions for the rest of the day. Boarding the bus, we had at least 1.5 hours each way to the Terracotta warriors.
While heading away from the city centre, our guide gave us some information about the warriors, the area they were in, the history and significance and the option to go to the “government factory”. She had the particular gift to talk no matter what and I could see that it would be a very long ride. The group agreed as a whole to go to the “government factory”, though the amount that the guide elaborated on “.. very good quality, very cheap, you should buy there..” made it sound like a Carpet Tour. At the least, we would learn how the great ceramic warriors were made and it would offer us a toilet break.
Arriving at the factory, we disembarked and waited for our guide to get us on a little tour. Most of us spent the wait by getting silly photos in the partial statues out the front. Missing the heads and hands, we got to “wear” half of the statue in each photo. I got a couple of photos while pulling “angry eyes” at the camera.
Inside the factory, we watches as ladies prepared the miniature figures for firing. The guide talked us through the process as the workers stuffed clay into moulds before pulling them apart and lining up the little brown soldiers to dry. The rate that they were fabricating them was fantastic, combined with the price that they were asking must give this factory a licence to print money!
We saw the kilns and some partially completed full-sized statues, but did not get to see the craftsmen working on them. Instead we were directed past some pretty girls painting figurine. At least the fabrication process was explained to us. The great statues were all made by hand, the body and the head separately, before drying and then being fired at somewhere between 900-1100 degrees. The heads were made separately and then mounted in the cavity that was the neck in the main body. This allowed the gas within the hollow statues to expand during firing, preventing the statues from exploding or sagging. Also assuming, the heads required more detail and were more fragile, the bodies would have been more suitable for mass-production.
Into another section, we watched what I would assume were master-craftsmen creating the detailed and colourful furniture tops. Mother of Pearl and lacquered finishes covered paper and wooden surfaces with impressively detailed stories and scenes of significant characters.
The short tour was finished in the maze of what was the sales room. Starting with a supply of the great statues, everyone stopped for photos with the Emperor, Generals, Officers, Soldiers and Archers. The were horses that were still lacking tails (assumedly they were somewhat fragile and the “tail hole” was necessary for the firing process). The three great chambers required traversing its entire stockpile in order to escape. Getting lost once and requiring directions twice, I was able to find a western toilet and even a cafe within the show-room before fleeing out the exit. They really wanted to sell. All of the prices were extortionate, somewhere between double or ten-fold what I would have been prepared to pay. They still REALLY wanted to sell something.
Waiting out the front for the rest of the group to assemble and go hunting for the bus, I wished that the show-room had been more reasonable in its prices. I would have loved to have bought a little terracotta statue for Mum and Dad, or even myself, but the prices were ten to twenty times more than what was on offer at the markets. I really could not have justified spending $40-60AUD on a 15cm figurine..
Many of us dozed for the rest of the way to the historical site. Mercifully, the local guide had tired of the sound of her own voice and left us undisturbed. With the first day of the National Holiday in full swing, the traffic snarls sprouted, reared and bared teeth while I snoozed. Finally waking within a kilometre of the museum, I stared out the window for the next 20 minutes before it was unanimously decided that we would walk the remaining 700 metres.
Joining the crowds of pedestrians ricochetting between the stationary cars, we quickly made it to the great statue overlooking the museum parking lot. A short but pointless wait later, we followed the guide as she purchased out tickets and began the long walk through the gardens that had once been farmland, all the way to the main complex of buildings.
The story of the Terracotta warriors is that there was an Emperor who, on turning 13 years of age, began to have his tomb constructed. Eventually it was completed and he had all of the surviving workers executed, in order to keep its location a secret. Due to this and other decisions, that particular Emperor was not overly popular. Some years later, soldiers broke into the great pits housing the soldiers, stealing the weapons, smashing the statues and setting fire to the structure. The pits had been dug as rows with columns of dirt supporting the roof. The roof was made of thick logs covered with reed mats and then several layers of soil and rocks. The actions of the looters caused the complete collapse, destruction and burying of the ceramic army.
The legacy of this particular, unpopular, emperor was lost. The few who had known forgot or died. The secret of the builder and the shame of the looters was never passed on.
Time passed. The world above grew and shrank. Life, death, wars and change all took their turn.
For the next 3000 years, farmland grew above. No one knew of the 6000 graves of a Terracotta Army.
One day, three farmers decided to dig a well. Perhaps there was a reason for the particular place in the farmland where they would dig. I'm sure there was no reason for the exact, specific, precise location that they chose.
This place was in the very corner of the Number One pit, the largest feature of the archaeological site. Some metres down from the surface, one of the farmers uncovered a vibrantly painted terracotta head. Several days later, one of the farmers notified the authorities and officials made their way out to investigate. If you pick the day right, you can meet the farmer who called the government. He lost his farm to what is one of the most significant historical finds in China. He will even sign your gift book of the museum.
Had they dug the well even one metre away from where fate had dictated, these planes would be unnoticeable, indistinguishable farmland. What was forgotten would still be lost.
Entering into the museum complex, we were taken to see a movie outlining the history of the place. Unfortunately, our guide either mistimed, or didn't care, and we got to see the 10 minute documentary in Chinese rather than English. Still, we got the salient facts. Taking this time to suck down drinks and ice-creams, we followed on to the No. 1 pit which houses the vast majority of the statues.
I'll take this time to air an observation. Whenever somebody says “the Chinese Terracotta Soldiers”, almost everyone things of long dark trenches, illuminated by wooden torches. Off into the distance, a vast army of thousands upon thousands of dark statues stand a silent guard in the shadows. The only sound in this place is your frightened breathing as you creep along rank and file. If your submissive respect falters for even a second, they might animate, come-at-arms and bring you down for your dishonour to their emperor...
The No. 1 pit of the Terracotta Warriors is instead housed in what appears to be a fair sized hangar (a couple of hundred metres long), you are about 5 metres above the pit at all times and surrounded by about 10,000 of the loudest and most obnoxious Chinese tourists you could ever imagine. You wish that you only had to tolerate the screaming kids, instead your entire experience has the sound-track of the adults bellowing, chattering and screaming at each other. While on the street, the vast and overwhelming majority of Chinese Citizens are pleasant and friendly, here they were rude, pushing and shoving or even walking over or through you. If you have ever heard of the term “Little Emperor Syndrome” imagine a couple of thousand adults that need some manners back-handed into them.
Below you, at the front of the pit, there are a half-dozen rows of assembled and restored statues. There is then a long stretch of smashed pottery to show the discovered state of the site. Behind, for the rest of the dig, is mostly untouched earth. This is a work in progress, there is still a LOT of work to be done.
While I'm sure it must be something like a thousand rebuilt statues on display here, in the scope and size of the place it feels like you are looking at less than a dozen.
Once again, like Egypt, I'm sure that the grandeur and magnitude of this place would hit you if you were able to wander around alone for a couple of hours. Exploring this place in solitude.
Unfortunately, that was NOT my experience.
With everyone a little jaded by the main pit, we were guided on to the site that had been determined to be the “Command Centre” for this silent army. On display around on the walkway at the top of the pit, there were weapons and statues in glass cases. Battling through the crowd, I succeeded in getting some snaps of the main artefacts. The pit itself appeared to be even less established than the main pit. Almost the entire site looked like it was untouched.
Though the stage of development of all of the digs was more than a little disappointing, it is important to remember the state that most of the artefacts were found in. Smashed, stolen and burned. I made the continual point of reminding myself that the archaeologists are taking their time. The restoration process is being done properly, not roughshod. Additionally, exposing the statues to oxygen causes the mineral paints to begin to fade and chip. Originally coming out of the ground in full, vibrant, life-like colour, the pieces quickly lose their colour and appear to be just pottery. When digging to within range of the pits, the release of the soil is meant to result in about a dozen different types of mould to start growing, further damaging the remains. As our guide said several times, we don't have the technology to properly preserve and protect these findings.
Requiring a break from the angry, spoiled, childish crowd, I joined the Swedish girls in stilling under a small monument and having some drinks. We talked about uni while snacking on the various provisions we'd brought for lunch. Feeling better, I left them writing post-cards, steeling myself to enter the “Carriage Museum”.
Fighting through the crowd, I only had about 10-15 minutes to view the main pieces before meeting the others for the walk back to the bus. The crowd was bordering on “Sheep-Yard” density. I've seen rugby scrums that are less packed than this building.
Making my way down to the level with the two carriages on it, I finally made it around the corner to the first glass case. Trying to see through the reflected camera flashes, I spotted the 150kg of bronze and 10kg of gold that made up the first of the Emperors carriages. Complete with driver, the whole thing was about 1:2 or 1:3 scale and a little bit of a disappointment. I managed to get some photos on an angle that is free of flash and glare, but I had no chance to inspect the workmanship or be impressed by any other feature. In a place about the length of my living room, a good foot taller than anyone around me, I couldn't get within 2 metres of the glass case.
Moving onto the next case, the Emperor's Private Personal Carriage, this vehicle was also miniature. Whereas the first carriage had been the “herald carriage”, featuring bell and notices that “the Emperor is coming!!!”, the private carriage was designed to keep His Worship from public view. Including features such as little windows to regulate the internal temperature without exposing one-self to public view, it was all an effort of dodging attracted attention..
You may as well give a Steer the equipment for breastfeed a calf... you get the idea...
Anyways, I got some more snaps and managed to get close enough to see a little of the detail on this second carriage. I'm sure I'll be suitably impressed when I blow-up the image at full-resolution back in Australia.
Fighting through the Zombie Horde, I made it out the exit and glared my way across to the meeting point. Once arriving at the entrance flag-poles, the group chattered and slouched around until the full number was present. The walk out to the bus felt twice as far as the trip in, our local guide taking the liberty of walking us through the entire length and breadth of the souvenir district that has been built as a satellite suburb to the museum complex.
I don't think any of us bought anything, on principle.
The trip back to the hotel was mercifully silent and most of us snoozed or listened to music. On the way into and out of the museum complex, we all noticed literally hundreds of locals selling pomegranates. Some had stalls, some sat of the floor. Regardless, it was certainly a saturated market. As we got further along the road, I noticed that more of them had stalls operating out of tents. I'd seen similar tents on the road to the Great Wall, here I had the chance to see into the little structures as the bus drove past. Table full of fruit, chair, bed... is this where these people live? competing with hundreds of others to sell their fruit between working in the adjacent fields? I really know nothing of the economy or culture of this part of the world, but I was absolutely astounded by this entire situation. Is it normal to have a bunk there, for a midday nap? I'd noticed that most of the stalls in the alleyways of the Muslim quarter had stairs or back rooms. The tea-house had said much of their complex was not accessible as it was still residential or commercial. Did the people selling cheap bags and watches live above their little store?
Once back in town, the four of us boys went to the 24 hour restaurant for lunch. Being seated fairly promptly, the staff were extremely helpful and got every english speaking waitress in the building to make sure that we had everything that we needed. Opting to order straight away from the menu, we were all a little stung with what came out. Not exactly matching what we expected, the extremely fishy soup and what we thought was custard but actually had crab in it, mostly went untouched.
The actual main dish was nice enough, but unremarkable. Noticing Dim Sum carts being pushed around, I got everyone to grab something off of it. SUCCESS!
Having a handful of the more tasty Dim Sum cuisine, it was agreed that we would have to eat back here again later. NOT ordering off of the menu.
We were all very happy with the service and most definitely with the dishes that we enjoyed.
Feeling pretty average, I joined the others in wandering to the market but branched off by my own not long into the trip. My tummy was definitely getting the gribblies, as Jenny calls it. I'd decided that I would start dosing myself with Norfloxacin again. This would be the fourth time since I left Australia that I'd needed Antibiotic Assistance. I'm suspect that it was a combination of the snake I ate in Beijing mixed with a heavy night out. I'm sure if I was more conservative in what I ate, I'd not have any of these problems, but the local food is what has been the most noticeable and remarkable feature of the trip to me..
Exploring through the markets, I delved deeper and deeper into the alleyways of vendors and stalls. I was trying to do my best to get lost in the crowd and the culture. I found little connecting alleys back to the main square, a girl busking from a wheel-chair, multitudes of stores selling a wealth of items that time was not allowed to forget. Wrist-watches with images of Chairman Mao, mechanical arm waving at your cuff-links, an ancient Engineer's compass with built-in slide-rule computer. Priced far into the excessive, it had been released from service in a time that had been forgotten and it didn't even occur to me to try and haggle it down to a price I might have been prepared to accept. Oceans of polo-shirts neighboured onto small continents of fake Rolex's and walking sticks. Mountain ranges of artwork and calligraphy dividing the forests of handbags, a thin column of silk book-bags offering a pass through the terrain.
I followed one little road of stalls at the back of the market all the way to its end. Here it intersected with another much larger road that had little eateries and restaurants its entire length. The buildings were of the old architecture, houses and hidden courtyards, alleys and eateries, butchers next door to a window that had a chef stirring a giant pot or a Chinese herbalist selling medicine. There were hardware stores selling globes and building supplies and little newsagents with batteries and pens. The eves overhead were shadowed by the branches of the trees that were almost invisible on the street and there was a string of red lanterns flying far above head-height, watching down on the life in the street and the single foreigner who had come to visit.
Finding myself back on the main road between the Bell Tower and the South Gate, I slowly made my way back to the hotel. The local part of the city had been manageable and pleasant while still bustling. Back on the main strip it was once again chaos of tourists and traffic that seemed out for blood and fresh human flesh. I got onto a now-familiar route and headed for the hostel, pausing by an older gentleman who might have been a beggar. He had a box in front of him that was stuffed with notes, a look of pride in his eyes and no right arm below the elbow. Instead of prostrating himself across as much foot-path as possible and looking miserable and pitiful, like almost every other beggar I had seen, he was sitting upright with legs crossed and a great deal of purpose. Strapped to his amputated fore-arm, he had a special little harness that kept a little brush in place. With deliberate and careful intent, this little brush was blossoming the most astounding and delicate calligraphy onto a scroll of rice-paper on the little platform table in front of him. Leaving him with the handful of small denomination notes that I hadn't been able to get rid of, I continued back to the hotel with a bit of a smile. I'd made the rule of not giving money to beggars on my travels, especially after all of the warnings I'd been given before leaving home, I would never have called this gentleman anything less than an artist.
The group met for dinner, almost all of us going to the restaurant for Dim Sum. Having learnt from our previous experience, we only took dishes from the cart and ate like kings. On one of the other tables, some of the girls insisted on ordering from the menu and were a little less than happy before figuring out how to use the carts. Having eaten and drunk our fill, and then some more, we all emerged from the eatery with very full tummies. Once again the staff had been fantastic, I think most of the employees had come out to see the westerners, a rarity in this place that was full of locals.
Outside, we diverged into groups. Seeking cigarettes or phone cards, snacks or drinks. I followed the group up the main commercial mall to a department store where we wandered around Wal-Mart. Realising there wasn't really anything I needed, I excused myself and went back to the hotel the long way. The mall was full of scaffold stalls and vendors selling expensive equivalents of what could be found in the street markets I'd been exploring earlier. Getting back to the hotel having only purchased some water at the entrance, I read and typed a little bit. Finally able to take the antibiotics for my tummy, I got ready for an early night, hoping to feel a bit better in the morning and missing everyone at home a little bit more than I'd care to admit.
Having done a little surveillance from the hotel room, I crossed the street and picked up two little fried parcels. The first was filled with a fried egg. Though tasty, I was still a little spent on eggs after the middle east.. The first bite of the second parcel was heavenly, it was filled with a type of chopped and cooked spinach mixed with spring onions, chives and various other leafy greens. However, my exclamation of WOW quickly turned. The first bite was delightful, put the flavour of the morsel quickly became burdensome.
Breakfast partially completed, I reversed the steps of the orientation walk. Heading back towards one of the connecting streets, away from the main strip, I found the part of the city where all of the locals ate. Running into Petra and Anna on the way, we joined forces and chatted while selecting fruit and snacks for lunch. Failing to find any break in the little supermarkets, we each bought banana's and apples, the girls picking some more fruit, from the little trailers on the street. Prices were negotiated in sign language, I'd managed to start being able to hear the sounds of the different numbers but was still an awfully long way off of haggling.
The final victory of the morning was at a hot plate towed behind a bike. Happily paying the 2 or 3 Yuan, I watched with hungry eyes as the gentleman prepared a crepe. Smearing an egg across one side along with some chopped greens and then flipping it as soon as it had hardened, he filled what would become the interior with a crunchy type of deep-fried bread and a dark paste that had been spread across the thin batter. I'd seen these being cooked yesterday and had heard about them from Lillian. Now one of them was mine!
Breakfast was finished with the Swedish girls on the way back to the hotel. We chatted for the length of the little walk and then waited out the front for the rest of the group. Finally everyone had assembled and Lillian introduced the local guide for the day for giving a brief farewell along with instructions for the rest of the day. Boarding the bus, we had at least 1.5 hours each way to the Terracotta warriors.
While heading away from the city centre, our guide gave us some information about the warriors, the area they were in, the history and significance and the option to go to the “government factory”. She had the particular gift to talk no matter what and I could see that it would be a very long ride. The group agreed as a whole to go to the “government factory”, though the amount that the guide elaborated on “.. very good quality, very cheap, you should buy there..” made it sound like a Carpet Tour. At the least, we would learn how the great ceramic warriors were made and it would offer us a toilet break.
Arriving at the factory, we disembarked and waited for our guide to get us on a little tour. Most of us spent the wait by getting silly photos in the partial statues out the front. Missing the heads and hands, we got to “wear” half of the statue in each photo. I got a couple of photos while pulling “angry eyes” at the camera.
Inside the factory, we watches as ladies prepared the miniature figures for firing. The guide talked us through the process as the workers stuffed clay into moulds before pulling them apart and lining up the little brown soldiers to dry. The rate that they were fabricating them was fantastic, combined with the price that they were asking must give this factory a licence to print money!
We saw the kilns and some partially completed full-sized statues, but did not get to see the craftsmen working on them. Instead we were directed past some pretty girls painting figurine. At least the fabrication process was explained to us. The great statues were all made by hand, the body and the head separately, before drying and then being fired at somewhere between 900-1100 degrees. The heads were made separately and then mounted in the cavity that was the neck in the main body. This allowed the gas within the hollow statues to expand during firing, preventing the statues from exploding or sagging. Also assuming, the heads required more detail and were more fragile, the bodies would have been more suitable for mass-production.
Into another section, we watched what I would assume were master-craftsmen creating the detailed and colourful furniture tops. Mother of Pearl and lacquered finishes covered paper and wooden surfaces with impressively detailed stories and scenes of significant characters.
The short tour was finished in the maze of what was the sales room. Starting with a supply of the great statues, everyone stopped for photos with the Emperor, Generals, Officers, Soldiers and Archers. The were horses that were still lacking tails (assumedly they were somewhat fragile and the “tail hole” was necessary for the firing process). The three great chambers required traversing its entire stockpile in order to escape. Getting lost once and requiring directions twice, I was able to find a western toilet and even a cafe within the show-room before fleeing out the exit. They really wanted to sell. All of the prices were extortionate, somewhere between double or ten-fold what I would have been prepared to pay. They still REALLY wanted to sell something.
Waiting out the front for the rest of the group to assemble and go hunting for the bus, I wished that the show-room had been more reasonable in its prices. I would have loved to have bought a little terracotta statue for Mum and Dad, or even myself, but the prices were ten to twenty times more than what was on offer at the markets. I really could not have justified spending $40-60AUD on a 15cm figurine..
Many of us dozed for the rest of the way to the historical site. Mercifully, the local guide had tired of the sound of her own voice and left us undisturbed. With the first day of the National Holiday in full swing, the traffic snarls sprouted, reared and bared teeth while I snoozed. Finally waking within a kilometre of the museum, I stared out the window for the next 20 minutes before it was unanimously decided that we would walk the remaining 700 metres.
Joining the crowds of pedestrians ricochetting between the stationary cars, we quickly made it to the great statue overlooking the museum parking lot. A short but pointless wait later, we followed the guide as she purchased out tickets and began the long walk through the gardens that had once been farmland, all the way to the main complex of buildings.
The story of the Terracotta warriors is that there was an Emperor who, on turning 13 years of age, began to have his tomb constructed. Eventually it was completed and he had all of the surviving workers executed, in order to keep its location a secret. Due to this and other decisions, that particular Emperor was not overly popular. Some years later, soldiers broke into the great pits housing the soldiers, stealing the weapons, smashing the statues and setting fire to the structure. The pits had been dug as rows with columns of dirt supporting the roof. The roof was made of thick logs covered with reed mats and then several layers of soil and rocks. The actions of the looters caused the complete collapse, destruction and burying of the ceramic army.
The legacy of this particular, unpopular, emperor was lost. The few who had known forgot or died. The secret of the builder and the shame of the looters was never passed on.
Time passed. The world above grew and shrank. Life, death, wars and change all took their turn.
For the next 3000 years, farmland grew above. No one knew of the 6000 graves of a Terracotta Army.
One day, three farmers decided to dig a well. Perhaps there was a reason for the particular place in the farmland where they would dig. I'm sure there was no reason for the exact, specific, precise location that they chose.
This place was in the very corner of the Number One pit, the largest feature of the archaeological site. Some metres down from the surface, one of the farmers uncovered a vibrantly painted terracotta head. Several days later, one of the farmers notified the authorities and officials made their way out to investigate. If you pick the day right, you can meet the farmer who called the government. He lost his farm to what is one of the most significant historical finds in China. He will even sign your gift book of the museum.
Had they dug the well even one metre away from where fate had dictated, these planes would be unnoticeable, indistinguishable farmland. What was forgotten would still be lost.
Entering into the museum complex, we were taken to see a movie outlining the history of the place. Unfortunately, our guide either mistimed, or didn't care, and we got to see the 10 minute documentary in Chinese rather than English. Still, we got the salient facts. Taking this time to suck down drinks and ice-creams, we followed on to the No. 1 pit which houses the vast majority of the statues.
I'll take this time to air an observation. Whenever somebody says “the Chinese Terracotta Soldiers”, almost everyone things of long dark trenches, illuminated by wooden torches. Off into the distance, a vast army of thousands upon thousands of dark statues stand a silent guard in the shadows. The only sound in this place is your frightened breathing as you creep along rank and file. If your submissive respect falters for even a second, they might animate, come-at-arms and bring you down for your dishonour to their emperor...
The No. 1 pit of the Terracotta Warriors is instead housed in what appears to be a fair sized hangar (a couple of hundred metres long), you are about 5 metres above the pit at all times and surrounded by about 10,000 of the loudest and most obnoxious Chinese tourists you could ever imagine. You wish that you only had to tolerate the screaming kids, instead your entire experience has the sound-track of the adults bellowing, chattering and screaming at each other. While on the street, the vast and overwhelming majority of Chinese Citizens are pleasant and friendly, here they were rude, pushing and shoving or even walking over or through you. If you have ever heard of the term “Little Emperor Syndrome” imagine a couple of thousand adults that need some manners back-handed into them.
Below you, at the front of the pit, there are a half-dozen rows of assembled and restored statues. There is then a long stretch of smashed pottery to show the discovered state of the site. Behind, for the rest of the dig, is mostly untouched earth. This is a work in progress, there is still a LOT of work to be done.
While I'm sure it must be something like a thousand rebuilt statues on display here, in the scope and size of the place it feels like you are looking at less than a dozen.
Once again, like Egypt, I'm sure that the grandeur and magnitude of this place would hit you if you were able to wander around alone for a couple of hours. Exploring this place in solitude.
Unfortunately, that was NOT my experience.
With everyone a little jaded by the main pit, we were guided on to the site that had been determined to be the “Command Centre” for this silent army. On display around on the walkway at the top of the pit, there were weapons and statues in glass cases. Battling through the crowd, I succeeded in getting some snaps of the main artefacts. The pit itself appeared to be even less established than the main pit. Almost the entire site looked like it was untouched.
Though the stage of development of all of the digs was more than a little disappointing, it is important to remember the state that most of the artefacts were found in. Smashed, stolen and burned. I made the continual point of reminding myself that the archaeologists are taking their time. The restoration process is being done properly, not roughshod. Additionally, exposing the statues to oxygen causes the mineral paints to begin to fade and chip. Originally coming out of the ground in full, vibrant, life-like colour, the pieces quickly lose their colour and appear to be just pottery. When digging to within range of the pits, the release of the soil is meant to result in about a dozen different types of mould to start growing, further damaging the remains. As our guide said several times, we don't have the technology to properly preserve and protect these findings.
Requiring a break from the angry, spoiled, childish crowd, I joined the Swedish girls in stilling under a small monument and having some drinks. We talked about uni while snacking on the various provisions we'd brought for lunch. Feeling better, I left them writing post-cards, steeling myself to enter the “Carriage Museum”.
Fighting through the crowd, I only had about 10-15 minutes to view the main pieces before meeting the others for the walk back to the bus. The crowd was bordering on “Sheep-Yard” density. I've seen rugby scrums that are less packed than this building.
Making my way down to the level with the two carriages on it, I finally made it around the corner to the first glass case. Trying to see through the reflected camera flashes, I spotted the 150kg of bronze and 10kg of gold that made up the first of the Emperors carriages. Complete with driver, the whole thing was about 1:2 or 1:3 scale and a little bit of a disappointment. I managed to get some photos on an angle that is free of flash and glare, but I had no chance to inspect the workmanship or be impressed by any other feature. In a place about the length of my living room, a good foot taller than anyone around me, I couldn't get within 2 metres of the glass case.
Moving onto the next case, the Emperor's Private Personal Carriage, this vehicle was also miniature. Whereas the first carriage had been the “herald carriage”, featuring bell and notices that “the Emperor is coming!!!”, the private carriage was designed to keep His Worship from public view. Including features such as little windows to regulate the internal temperature without exposing one-self to public view, it was all an effort of dodging attracted attention..
You may as well give a Steer the equipment for breastfeed a calf... you get the idea...
Anyways, I got some more snaps and managed to get close enough to see a little of the detail on this second carriage. I'm sure I'll be suitably impressed when I blow-up the image at full-resolution back in Australia.
Fighting through the Zombie Horde, I made it out the exit and glared my way across to the meeting point. Once arriving at the entrance flag-poles, the group chattered and slouched around until the full number was present. The walk out to the bus felt twice as far as the trip in, our local guide taking the liberty of walking us through the entire length and breadth of the souvenir district that has been built as a satellite suburb to the museum complex.
I don't think any of us bought anything, on principle.
The trip back to the hotel was mercifully silent and most of us snoozed or listened to music. On the way into and out of the museum complex, we all noticed literally hundreds of locals selling pomegranates. Some had stalls, some sat of the floor. Regardless, it was certainly a saturated market. As we got further along the road, I noticed that more of them had stalls operating out of tents. I'd seen similar tents on the road to the Great Wall, here I had the chance to see into the little structures as the bus drove past. Table full of fruit, chair, bed... is this where these people live? competing with hundreds of others to sell their fruit between working in the adjacent fields? I really know nothing of the economy or culture of this part of the world, but I was absolutely astounded by this entire situation. Is it normal to have a bunk there, for a midday nap? I'd noticed that most of the stalls in the alleyways of the Muslim quarter had stairs or back rooms. The tea-house had said much of their complex was not accessible as it was still residential or commercial. Did the people selling cheap bags and watches live above their little store?
Once back in town, the four of us boys went to the 24 hour restaurant for lunch. Being seated fairly promptly, the staff were extremely helpful and got every english speaking waitress in the building to make sure that we had everything that we needed. Opting to order straight away from the menu, we were all a little stung with what came out. Not exactly matching what we expected, the extremely fishy soup and what we thought was custard but actually had crab in it, mostly went untouched.
The actual main dish was nice enough, but unremarkable. Noticing Dim Sum carts being pushed around, I got everyone to grab something off of it. SUCCESS!
Having a handful of the more tasty Dim Sum cuisine, it was agreed that we would have to eat back here again later. NOT ordering off of the menu.
We were all very happy with the service and most definitely with the dishes that we enjoyed.
Feeling pretty average, I joined the others in wandering to the market but branched off by my own not long into the trip. My tummy was definitely getting the gribblies, as Jenny calls it. I'd decided that I would start dosing myself with Norfloxacin again. This would be the fourth time since I left Australia that I'd needed Antibiotic Assistance. I'm suspect that it was a combination of the snake I ate in Beijing mixed with a heavy night out. I'm sure if I was more conservative in what I ate, I'd not have any of these problems, but the local food is what has been the most noticeable and remarkable feature of the trip to me..
Exploring through the markets, I delved deeper and deeper into the alleyways of vendors and stalls. I was trying to do my best to get lost in the crowd and the culture. I found little connecting alleys back to the main square, a girl busking from a wheel-chair, multitudes of stores selling a wealth of items that time was not allowed to forget. Wrist-watches with images of Chairman Mao, mechanical arm waving at your cuff-links, an ancient Engineer's compass with built-in slide-rule computer. Priced far into the excessive, it had been released from service in a time that had been forgotten and it didn't even occur to me to try and haggle it down to a price I might have been prepared to accept. Oceans of polo-shirts neighboured onto small continents of fake Rolex's and walking sticks. Mountain ranges of artwork and calligraphy dividing the forests of handbags, a thin column of silk book-bags offering a pass through the terrain.
I followed one little road of stalls at the back of the market all the way to its end. Here it intersected with another much larger road that had little eateries and restaurants its entire length. The buildings were of the old architecture, houses and hidden courtyards, alleys and eateries, butchers next door to a window that had a chef stirring a giant pot or a Chinese herbalist selling medicine. There were hardware stores selling globes and building supplies and little newsagents with batteries and pens. The eves overhead were shadowed by the branches of the trees that were almost invisible on the street and there was a string of red lanterns flying far above head-height, watching down on the life in the street and the single foreigner who had come to visit.
Finding myself back on the main road between the Bell Tower and the South Gate, I slowly made my way back to the hotel. The local part of the city had been manageable and pleasant while still bustling. Back on the main strip it was once again chaos of tourists and traffic that seemed out for blood and fresh human flesh. I got onto a now-familiar route and headed for the hostel, pausing by an older gentleman who might have been a beggar. He had a box in front of him that was stuffed with notes, a look of pride in his eyes and no right arm below the elbow. Instead of prostrating himself across as much foot-path as possible and looking miserable and pitiful, like almost every other beggar I had seen, he was sitting upright with legs crossed and a great deal of purpose. Strapped to his amputated fore-arm, he had a special little harness that kept a little brush in place. With deliberate and careful intent, this little brush was blossoming the most astounding and delicate calligraphy onto a scroll of rice-paper on the little platform table in front of him. Leaving him with the handful of small denomination notes that I hadn't been able to get rid of, I continued back to the hotel with a bit of a smile. I'd made the rule of not giving money to beggars on my travels, especially after all of the warnings I'd been given before leaving home, I would never have called this gentleman anything less than an artist.
The group met for dinner, almost all of us going to the restaurant for Dim Sum. Having learnt from our previous experience, we only took dishes from the cart and ate like kings. On one of the other tables, some of the girls insisted on ordering from the menu and were a little less than happy before figuring out how to use the carts. Having eaten and drunk our fill, and then some more, we all emerged from the eatery with very full tummies. Once again the staff had been fantastic, I think most of the employees had come out to see the westerners, a rarity in this place that was full of locals.
Outside, we diverged into groups. Seeking cigarettes or phone cards, snacks or drinks. I followed the group up the main commercial mall to a department store where we wandered around Wal-Mart. Realising there wasn't really anything I needed, I excused myself and went back to the hotel the long way. The mall was full of scaffold stalls and vendors selling expensive equivalents of what could be found in the street markets I'd been exploring earlier. Getting back to the hotel having only purchased some water at the entrance, I read and typed a little bit. Finally able to take the antibiotics for my tummy, I got ready for an early night, hoping to feel a bit better in the morning and missing everyone at home a little bit more than I'd care to admit.
011008 – Xi'an
The lights came on and we were woken sometime before 5. The train attendant and then Lillian did the rounds of making sure that everyone was up and getting ready to depart. With pain in our eyes, we clambered down and heaved our packs on. It was still dark as we left the station.
Meeting at an Intrepid flag out the front, a local contact lead the march to the bus. Walking through the cool pre-dawn, we passed street sweepers and store-owners preparing for their day. Though the streets were almost deserted, there were still these gentle signs of life. The bus took us on a very convoluted route that lead across express ways and through the great arches of the city wall, barely noticed by its passengers through their exhausted haze.
Reaching the hotel, Lillian informed us that our rooms were not ready. Check-out was at midday and it would not be till late morning before any rooms would be available for us. Dumping our gear in the one room that was free for us, a handful stayed behind to snooze or shower while the rest of us followed Lillian's lead to a MacDonalds breakfast.
As we walked into the city, a handful of features were pointed out to us. A 24 hour restaurant that had reasonable prices and a good reputation, the vague direction to the shopping district, so on. The MacDonalds was painfully cheerful, the 10 or 12 of us glaring darkly at the bright décor as we munched our hotcakes and McMuffins. After being fed, coffee'd and tired of being stared at by the locals, most of us ventured outside in the growing grey light. Locals had begun to congregate, greeting the friends that they were waiting for or hoping onto busses as they pulled in. A great truck pulled past with a water cannon, locals diving out of the way as the aquatic weapon fired on each of the trees and shrubberies in turn, rationing out sustenance for the day. While waiting out the front for Lillian to make something happen, we discovered that we'd merely replaced the loud décor for loud theme music underpinning importance of the restaurant advertisements to the deserted street. With each painfully cheerful tone, a little piece in each of us died...
Finally, everyone had finished their greasy breakfast and the smokers had consumed as many nicotine-beverages (as they now called them) as their lungs could cope with. Lillian disappeared for half an hour to fetch the snoozing girls, returning to take us on the orientation tour.
Guiding us from the MacDonalds and the Bell Tower in the very centre of the city, we made our way to the South Gate and veered off into the Academic or University district. A great many of the stores displayed sales of brushes, inks and paper. There were more than a few vendors that had signs of selling jade or carved name-stamps. The string work and hanging ornaments were of impressive quality and the feel of the place was a certain level of refinement and restraint that the Silk Road had been lacking. A very small handful of stalls had been populated with vendors and wares, more store-owners were watching the westerners stumble past as they smoked or finished breakfast. Turning up another street, we were shown the different restaurants and eateries, the super-market and how to purchase food from the street vendors.
The vibrancy and life of Xi'an was painfully apparent to our sleep-deprived senses. The colours and smells, even in the early dawn was striking. Here, away from the main street, the locals lived and operated their little businesses. Passing little restaurants that were not much more than a hole in a window and a set of crowded collapsible chairs and tables, the citizens of this city had filled the seats and were being fed. Side alleys boasted the trappings of a particular speciality be it food, tea or trinkets. Signs in Chinese and English advertised “CHEAP TEA” “FAMOUS JADE” “YOUR NAME – ENGLISH CHINESE”. On the street, the smog above compressed down the flavours and fragrances, be it perfume or a narrow column of air from the open sewer grate. My only one dislike of the metropolis was the unmistakable and utterly undisguised scent of the public conveniences.
Again passing the hotel, the group continued on as a whole, we made our way back past the Bell-Tower and navigated the crowds in the underpass. Coming out the other side, past the post-office and across the street, Lillian seated us outside a closed restaurant for a little rest. Her phone rang while she was telling us about the great reputation of this particular eatery and the dumplings it was famous for, another two rooms were free for anyone who was desperate for a shower and sleep. Charlotte and one of the other girls volunteered and made a hasty departure for sanitation and snoozing.
Venturing on, we passed into the Muslim quarter. The street market was mostly assembled and staffed, we first wandered the street on both sides, making faces at the various cuisines. Lillian then took us to a near by historical residence were we had a tour and then a very hard-sell of the various types of tea, under the disguise of a traditional tea ceremony. The group drank the teas that had been paid for in the entrance fee but purchased a pitiful amount of their over-priced products. Refreshed despite the capitalist intents, we continued on through the markets as the frenzied activity of the vendors increased. Taking a side road, we went through stalls of fake glasses, watches and bags. Bargaining until the sellers smiles turned to frowns and they glared at us as we changed small notes for goods, it was definite that we would be returning here several times for the cheap merchandise.
The morning stretched on, Adam had purchased a polo-shirt for a price that almost reduced the sales-girl to tears. I picked up the singly most creepy sunglasses I could find. Perfect circles on light frames, I selected them according to how uncomfortable the look of me wearing them made Andy and got them for about $3AUD. Dom got an Automatic winding Genuine Fake Rolex at the impressive price of 180Yuan, down from 800.
Finally we tired of the “Welcome, come in, you want bag, watch, t-shirt” “good-price, me sell you, friend” any time we even glanced at a stall. Leaving the markets, we made our way back to the hotel and finally checked in. Dom and I shared a room just down the hall from Adam and Andy. Packing was undone and showers were had. We agreed to meet again for lunch after a short break.
The afternoon was filled by more browsing at the markets in the Muslim quarter. Perusing stalls of nick-nacks that had no necessary purpose, a lot of us stocked up on gifts for when we got home or simply haggled to see how low we could get the price on an item that we were only vaguely interested in buying. Hanging back from the group after a while, I ventured out on my own and explored the more deep and convoluted streets. I didn't really have much of an interest in buying anything and made a point of moving on as soon as the stall owner appeared and began the hard-sell. I did find a little bag that might suit my laptop and save me carrying my day-pack everywhere. There were a pair of Aviator sunglasses that I might also buy, if I could find a cheap pair that didn't make my eyes sore. Wandering was the only purpose of the afternoon.
Finally tiring and desiring a toilet that didn't smell of death, I made my way back through the impressively dense crowd. The national holiday would start tomorrow and this was only a precursor... the next few days would be interesting.
I was starting to feel pretty ordinary. Thankfully the smog appeared to have cloaked the mystical powers of my belt, hopefully the intestinal maelstrom would pass before clear-sky could break through and be controlled by my Nasty-Butt.
Returning to the hotel brought on instant relief. It was fairly late in the afternoon and there was meant to be a group dinner tonight. I settled in for a nap, I would make a decision on dinner closer to the time. Dom appeared a couple of hours later in a similar state. Several hours after the group must have made their way to dinner, I woke up again and entertained myself with some issues of Transmetropolitan before drifting off to sleep for the rest of the night.
Meeting at an Intrepid flag out the front, a local contact lead the march to the bus. Walking through the cool pre-dawn, we passed street sweepers and store-owners preparing for their day. Though the streets were almost deserted, there were still these gentle signs of life. The bus took us on a very convoluted route that lead across express ways and through the great arches of the city wall, barely noticed by its passengers through their exhausted haze.
Reaching the hotel, Lillian informed us that our rooms were not ready. Check-out was at midday and it would not be till late morning before any rooms would be available for us. Dumping our gear in the one room that was free for us, a handful stayed behind to snooze or shower while the rest of us followed Lillian's lead to a MacDonalds breakfast.
As we walked into the city, a handful of features were pointed out to us. A 24 hour restaurant that had reasonable prices and a good reputation, the vague direction to the shopping district, so on. The MacDonalds was painfully cheerful, the 10 or 12 of us glaring darkly at the bright décor as we munched our hotcakes and McMuffins. After being fed, coffee'd and tired of being stared at by the locals, most of us ventured outside in the growing grey light. Locals had begun to congregate, greeting the friends that they were waiting for or hoping onto busses as they pulled in. A great truck pulled past with a water cannon, locals diving out of the way as the aquatic weapon fired on each of the trees and shrubberies in turn, rationing out sustenance for the day. While waiting out the front for Lillian to make something happen, we discovered that we'd merely replaced the loud décor for loud theme music underpinning importance of the restaurant advertisements to the deserted street. With each painfully cheerful tone, a little piece in each of us died...
Finally, everyone had finished their greasy breakfast and the smokers had consumed as many nicotine-beverages (as they now called them) as their lungs could cope with. Lillian disappeared for half an hour to fetch the snoozing girls, returning to take us on the orientation tour.
Guiding us from the MacDonalds and the Bell Tower in the very centre of the city, we made our way to the South Gate and veered off into the Academic or University district. A great many of the stores displayed sales of brushes, inks and paper. There were more than a few vendors that had signs of selling jade or carved name-stamps. The string work and hanging ornaments were of impressive quality and the feel of the place was a certain level of refinement and restraint that the Silk Road had been lacking. A very small handful of stalls had been populated with vendors and wares, more store-owners were watching the westerners stumble past as they smoked or finished breakfast. Turning up another street, we were shown the different restaurants and eateries, the super-market and how to purchase food from the street vendors.
The vibrancy and life of Xi'an was painfully apparent to our sleep-deprived senses. The colours and smells, even in the early dawn was striking. Here, away from the main street, the locals lived and operated their little businesses. Passing little restaurants that were not much more than a hole in a window and a set of crowded collapsible chairs and tables, the citizens of this city had filled the seats and were being fed. Side alleys boasted the trappings of a particular speciality be it food, tea or trinkets. Signs in Chinese and English advertised “CHEAP TEA” “FAMOUS JADE” “YOUR NAME – ENGLISH CHINESE”. On the street, the smog above compressed down the flavours and fragrances, be it perfume or a narrow column of air from the open sewer grate. My only one dislike of the metropolis was the unmistakable and utterly undisguised scent of the public conveniences.
Again passing the hotel, the group continued on as a whole, we made our way back past the Bell-Tower and navigated the crowds in the underpass. Coming out the other side, past the post-office and across the street, Lillian seated us outside a closed restaurant for a little rest. Her phone rang while she was telling us about the great reputation of this particular eatery and the dumplings it was famous for, another two rooms were free for anyone who was desperate for a shower and sleep. Charlotte and one of the other girls volunteered and made a hasty departure for sanitation and snoozing.
Venturing on, we passed into the Muslim quarter. The street market was mostly assembled and staffed, we first wandered the street on both sides, making faces at the various cuisines. Lillian then took us to a near by historical residence were we had a tour and then a very hard-sell of the various types of tea, under the disguise of a traditional tea ceremony. The group drank the teas that had been paid for in the entrance fee but purchased a pitiful amount of their over-priced products. Refreshed despite the capitalist intents, we continued on through the markets as the frenzied activity of the vendors increased. Taking a side road, we went through stalls of fake glasses, watches and bags. Bargaining until the sellers smiles turned to frowns and they glared at us as we changed small notes for goods, it was definite that we would be returning here several times for the cheap merchandise.
The morning stretched on, Adam had purchased a polo-shirt for a price that almost reduced the sales-girl to tears. I picked up the singly most creepy sunglasses I could find. Perfect circles on light frames, I selected them according to how uncomfortable the look of me wearing them made Andy and got them for about $3AUD. Dom got an Automatic winding Genuine Fake Rolex at the impressive price of 180Yuan, down from 800.
Finally we tired of the “Welcome, come in, you want bag, watch, t-shirt” “good-price, me sell you, friend” any time we even glanced at a stall. Leaving the markets, we made our way back to the hotel and finally checked in. Dom and I shared a room just down the hall from Adam and Andy. Packing was undone and showers were had. We agreed to meet again for lunch after a short break.
The afternoon was filled by more browsing at the markets in the Muslim quarter. Perusing stalls of nick-nacks that had no necessary purpose, a lot of us stocked up on gifts for when we got home or simply haggled to see how low we could get the price on an item that we were only vaguely interested in buying. Hanging back from the group after a while, I ventured out on my own and explored the more deep and convoluted streets. I didn't really have much of an interest in buying anything and made a point of moving on as soon as the stall owner appeared and began the hard-sell. I did find a little bag that might suit my laptop and save me carrying my day-pack everywhere. There were a pair of Aviator sunglasses that I might also buy, if I could find a cheap pair that didn't make my eyes sore. Wandering was the only purpose of the afternoon.
Finally tiring and desiring a toilet that didn't smell of death, I made my way back through the impressively dense crowd. The national holiday would start tomorrow and this was only a precursor... the next few days would be interesting.
I was starting to feel pretty ordinary. Thankfully the smog appeared to have cloaked the mystical powers of my belt, hopefully the intestinal maelstrom would pass before clear-sky could break through and be controlled by my Nasty-Butt.
Returning to the hotel brought on instant relief. It was fairly late in the afternoon and there was meant to be a group dinner tonight. I settled in for a nap, I would make a decision on dinner closer to the time. Dom appeared a couple of hours later in a similar state. Several hours after the group must have made their way to dinner, I woke up again and entertained myself with some issues of Transmetropolitan before drifting off to sleep for the rest of the night.
300908 – Great Wall to Beijing
My knee had ached a bit throughout the night, but I managed to sleep in until Adam started banging on the door.
“Guys! We leave in 20 minutes!”
Dom and I executed a rapid exit and managed to be in the first group to check-out. Breakfast had been skipped but I managed to snack on an apple and banana left over from yesterday. Snoozing for much of the journey, the trip back to Beijing was mostly unremarkable.
We no longer had any rooms at the original accommodation, so were dropped in the car-park of a nearby hotel/tourism complex and told to meet back here at 3pm. We four boys went hunting for lunch, deciding that Mr Lee's would suffice for today.
Walking up the street and past our previous hotel, we turned the corner and went into the local restaurant chain. Bundled upstairs, there was no attempt to find us an English speaking waitress or even a menu. Working from memory, we felt brave enough to order from the card provided and were delivered cuisine exactly opposite to what we had been anticipating.
Namely, our cups of Coke had be substituted with a type of chilled barley tea that most of the guys couldn't choke down. Dom ordered a picture of a chicken dish with seasoning that came out chilled. None of us were brave enough to even try it. We were provided with one serve of noodles too many, so Dom still had something to eat, but none of what we received was anywhere near as nice as it had been the day before.
Giving up on the meal and warning the group of girls that ha decided to follow us, we retreated to the MacDonalds next door. We were all feeling poorly and didn't want to risk getting sick. I was still feeling pretty average but hopeful that I'd feel better with a couple of days of safe food and sleep.
Following Adams suggestion and the reported success of Greg and Alice, we set out for the Silk Road markets. A couple of metro stops delivered us at our assumed destination. Two small subterranean streets with vendors on both sides trying to sell us all manners of cheap touristy junk left us a little unimpressed. I was still certain that we weren't actually there yet and convinced the others to at least try and find the street-level. Following a corridor, past a beggar and up some stairs we found a supermarket that was noted for later. We would need to buy supplies for the train.
Suddenly, we were surrounded by an ocean of shoes.
WOW.. lots of them.. even more girls trying to sell each of us a dozen different types of footware.
We had arrived.
The next hour was spent on 3 of the 5 floors of the Silk Road building. There was an entire floor dedicated to shoes, another to bags and a third for clothes. We didn't go to the top two floors for fear of time or ambush. Making our way through the markets was a tag-team effort of avoiding the vendors, making and breaking eye-contact long enough to be evasive, telling the seller blocking your path that the guy BEHIND you needs said shoes... We managed to avoid buying anything. Most of the stalls were simply variations of each other.
Retreating to the lower levels, we stocked up on drinks and snacks for the train. Departing with a little time to spare, we caught the metro back to the centre of Beijing and stocked up on MacDonalds. I was starting to feel VERY ordinary and kept repeating to myself that “the safe food will make you feel better in an hour or two.. it always does..”
Munching my burger through the nausea and pedestrians, we walked the major road back to where the bus would be waiting. Passing through the deserted underpasses and along the side-walks, we made good time. Sitting in the shade by the massive hotel, we waited under the glare of two security guards until Lillian appeared. Suitcase in hand and bus not far behind, we were ready to leave Beijing. It had been a great start to the trip and I would happily come back here for a couple of weeks again in the future.
By 3pm, the entire group was on the bus and we were pulling out of the carpark. The traffic had started to thicken and congeal, but we got to the train station with a good hour to spare. Getting dropped on the opposite side of the road, we had to walk about 500 metres along footpath and across overpasses to get to the entrance. Barricades had been positioned to narrow the flow of people two about 4 people wide. Only two double doors out of the massive articulated window were open to receive passengers and pass them through the two metal detectors and X-Ray machines. We regrouped directly inside the building and moved through what I would have described as a major Airport Terminal to our waiting lounge. The next hour was filled with hunting down snacks, bottled water and toilets as we waited for our train.
When our time had been called, we humped our packs and lined up to get our tickets clipped. Smiling back at the other western tourists, we made our way through the network of corridors and down onto the platform. Passing dozens of carriages, we walked the stretching distance of the train to our carriage. The platform seemed to go on forever, but finally we were there.
Negotiating the interior of the the car, it was hard to remember that most of our travelling companions would be new to the concept of railway transport. Biting my tongue with patience, I finally tossed my hand luggage onto the top bunk and heaved my main pack onto my head before navigating it onto the wide ledge running just below the roof.
When in a multi-person compartment, you never want to be on the bottom bunk. Used as seating during the day, you can only sleep when no-one else wants to sit up. In Russia and Mongolia, I'd always opted for the top bunk. This seemed to keep everyone happy as I slept the most and they all liked having the bottom bunk. Whereas Russian trains had two levels, Chinese trains have three. By being on any bunk about seating-level means you can seek out privacy whenever you see fit. You can choose when you want to sleep versus having your waking hours dictated to you.
We had finally settled in and the train had departed. Our gear had been stowed and some snacks had appeared. It was Charlotte's birthday today and appropriate drinks appeared in short order. I felt a little sorry for her, the new group had not had the chance to really bond well yet and she certainly was having an average time compared to if it was at the end of the trip. Some drinks were laid on, but in a week or two there would have been a cake and probably gifts. Just bad luck and worse timing. Still, drinks were plentiful and stretched into the night. She seemed to have a good time.
For the beginning of the train journey and the rest of the daylight hours, I took the opportunity to sit in the little seat at the window and try and *see* this country. What I saw astonished me.
The smog and haze of Beijing had been significant, looking at nearby buildings gave a white haze that made you want to blink, as though your glasses were fogged or smeared. At times, visibility would have been about 2 kilometres or maybe a little better. Now that we were out of the city, it really hit me.
Directly overhead, you could just make out some blue of the sky. The distance was concealed behind the white and grey screen of smog and the sun was an angry orange and red ball, fighting with the pollution but still safe to look directly at. It was currently 4pm. As the afternoon and the train drew on, the sun dropped a little and dimmed to the brightness of the moon at midday. Eventually, by a little after 5, it had been completely swallowed by the smog. The sky was just a glare of grey and white light.
Escaping through the endless outskirts of the megatropolis, we passed the rapid staccato of various industrial districts divided by low-lying housing and tall residential blocks. The continual march of industrialisation was almost angry. Its fingers, straining and crooked, tearing out into the countryside as fields and little corpses of trees met an abrupt, concrete interface. Like water to sand, the high-density blocks and industrialised zones punctured the farmland.
Our train pounding on, as though it were a river, dragging this development into the outskirts and then the surrounding rural regions. Great torrents of vehicles, fences and construction pouring into the region, splashing out and running together into to pools of activity. This onslaught of progress and industry tore through the hillsides with such velocity, its entourage of smog being dragged along like a vapour trail.
Such is the cost of our world.
Such is the cost of Industry and Progress.
This was our choice.
Finally, the sky grew dark. Escaping the bitter atmosphere, the sun would appear in the morning with new strength. Such was its courage to do battle with the sweat of Global Economics.
The night drew on and more drinks appeared. Charlotte was suitably made a fuss of and was particularly drunk by the time I quietly put the bottle of vodka I got for my birthday back into my main pack. It was about an hour after I went to bed that she realised it had disappeared, complaining that she wanted more to drink. Though it was a fun night, a couple of the girls bared teeth and drew claws, I made myself scarce as soon as the pleasantness started to drop from the conversation.
Just before sleep, I peeked out the window and shone my new laser into the sky. For its entire length, it was a brilliant green beam. There was still so much smog and pollution in the air that you couldn't just see it, you could almost cut it.
“Guys! We leave in 20 minutes!”
Dom and I executed a rapid exit and managed to be in the first group to check-out. Breakfast had been skipped but I managed to snack on an apple and banana left over from yesterday. Snoozing for much of the journey, the trip back to Beijing was mostly unremarkable.
We no longer had any rooms at the original accommodation, so were dropped in the car-park of a nearby hotel/tourism complex and told to meet back here at 3pm. We four boys went hunting for lunch, deciding that Mr Lee's would suffice for today.
Walking up the street and past our previous hotel, we turned the corner and went into the local restaurant chain. Bundled upstairs, there was no attempt to find us an English speaking waitress or even a menu. Working from memory, we felt brave enough to order from the card provided and were delivered cuisine exactly opposite to what we had been anticipating.
Namely, our cups of Coke had be substituted with a type of chilled barley tea that most of the guys couldn't choke down. Dom ordered a picture of a chicken dish with seasoning that came out chilled. None of us were brave enough to even try it. We were provided with one serve of noodles too many, so Dom still had something to eat, but none of what we received was anywhere near as nice as it had been the day before.
Giving up on the meal and warning the group of girls that ha decided to follow us, we retreated to the MacDonalds next door. We were all feeling poorly and didn't want to risk getting sick. I was still feeling pretty average but hopeful that I'd feel better with a couple of days of safe food and sleep.
Following Adams suggestion and the reported success of Greg and Alice, we set out for the Silk Road markets. A couple of metro stops delivered us at our assumed destination. Two small subterranean streets with vendors on both sides trying to sell us all manners of cheap touristy junk left us a little unimpressed. I was still certain that we weren't actually there yet and convinced the others to at least try and find the street-level. Following a corridor, past a beggar and up some stairs we found a supermarket that was noted for later. We would need to buy supplies for the train.
Suddenly, we were surrounded by an ocean of shoes.
WOW.. lots of them.. even more girls trying to sell each of us a dozen different types of footware.
We had arrived.
The next hour was spent on 3 of the 5 floors of the Silk Road building. There was an entire floor dedicated to shoes, another to bags and a third for clothes. We didn't go to the top two floors for fear of time or ambush. Making our way through the markets was a tag-team effort of avoiding the vendors, making and breaking eye-contact long enough to be evasive, telling the seller blocking your path that the guy BEHIND you needs said shoes... We managed to avoid buying anything. Most of the stalls were simply variations of each other.
Retreating to the lower levels, we stocked up on drinks and snacks for the train. Departing with a little time to spare, we caught the metro back to the centre of Beijing and stocked up on MacDonalds. I was starting to feel VERY ordinary and kept repeating to myself that “the safe food will make you feel better in an hour or two.. it always does..”
Munching my burger through the nausea and pedestrians, we walked the major road back to where the bus would be waiting. Passing through the deserted underpasses and along the side-walks, we made good time. Sitting in the shade by the massive hotel, we waited under the glare of two security guards until Lillian appeared. Suitcase in hand and bus not far behind, we were ready to leave Beijing. It had been a great start to the trip and I would happily come back here for a couple of weeks again in the future.
By 3pm, the entire group was on the bus and we were pulling out of the carpark. The traffic had started to thicken and congeal, but we got to the train station with a good hour to spare. Getting dropped on the opposite side of the road, we had to walk about 500 metres along footpath and across overpasses to get to the entrance. Barricades had been positioned to narrow the flow of people two about 4 people wide. Only two double doors out of the massive articulated window were open to receive passengers and pass them through the two metal detectors and X-Ray machines. We regrouped directly inside the building and moved through what I would have described as a major Airport Terminal to our waiting lounge. The next hour was filled with hunting down snacks, bottled water and toilets as we waited for our train.
When our time had been called, we humped our packs and lined up to get our tickets clipped. Smiling back at the other western tourists, we made our way through the network of corridors and down onto the platform. Passing dozens of carriages, we walked the stretching distance of the train to our carriage. The platform seemed to go on forever, but finally we were there.
Negotiating the interior of the the car, it was hard to remember that most of our travelling companions would be new to the concept of railway transport. Biting my tongue with patience, I finally tossed my hand luggage onto the top bunk and heaved my main pack onto my head before navigating it onto the wide ledge running just below the roof.
When in a multi-person compartment, you never want to be on the bottom bunk. Used as seating during the day, you can only sleep when no-one else wants to sit up. In Russia and Mongolia, I'd always opted for the top bunk. This seemed to keep everyone happy as I slept the most and they all liked having the bottom bunk. Whereas Russian trains had two levels, Chinese trains have three. By being on any bunk about seating-level means you can seek out privacy whenever you see fit. You can choose when you want to sleep versus having your waking hours dictated to you.
We had finally settled in and the train had departed. Our gear had been stowed and some snacks had appeared. It was Charlotte's birthday today and appropriate drinks appeared in short order. I felt a little sorry for her, the new group had not had the chance to really bond well yet and she certainly was having an average time compared to if it was at the end of the trip. Some drinks were laid on, but in a week or two there would have been a cake and probably gifts. Just bad luck and worse timing. Still, drinks were plentiful and stretched into the night. She seemed to have a good time.
For the beginning of the train journey and the rest of the daylight hours, I took the opportunity to sit in the little seat at the window and try and *see* this country. What I saw astonished me.
The smog and haze of Beijing had been significant, looking at nearby buildings gave a white haze that made you want to blink, as though your glasses were fogged or smeared. At times, visibility would have been about 2 kilometres or maybe a little better. Now that we were out of the city, it really hit me.
Directly overhead, you could just make out some blue of the sky. The distance was concealed behind the white and grey screen of smog and the sun was an angry orange and red ball, fighting with the pollution but still safe to look directly at. It was currently 4pm. As the afternoon and the train drew on, the sun dropped a little and dimmed to the brightness of the moon at midday. Eventually, by a little after 5, it had been completely swallowed by the smog. The sky was just a glare of grey and white light.
Escaping through the endless outskirts of the megatropolis, we passed the rapid staccato of various industrial districts divided by low-lying housing and tall residential blocks. The continual march of industrialisation was almost angry. Its fingers, straining and crooked, tearing out into the countryside as fields and little corpses of trees met an abrupt, concrete interface. Like water to sand, the high-density blocks and industrialised zones punctured the farmland.
Our train pounding on, as though it were a river, dragging this development into the outskirts and then the surrounding rural regions. Great torrents of vehicles, fences and construction pouring into the region, splashing out and running together into to pools of activity. This onslaught of progress and industry tore through the hillsides with such velocity, its entourage of smog being dragged along like a vapour trail.
Such is the cost of our world.
Such is the cost of Industry and Progress.
This was our choice.
Finally, the sky grew dark. Escaping the bitter atmosphere, the sun would appear in the morning with new strength. Such was its courage to do battle with the sweat of Global Economics.
The night drew on and more drinks appeared. Charlotte was suitably made a fuss of and was particularly drunk by the time I quietly put the bottle of vodka I got for my birthday back into my main pack. It was about an hour after I went to bed that she realised it had disappeared, complaining that she wanted more to drink. Though it was a fun night, a couple of the girls bared teeth and drew claws, I made myself scarce as soon as the pleasantness started to drop from the conversation.
Just before sleep, I peeked out the window and shone my new laser into the sky. For its entire length, it was a brilliant green beam. There was still so much smog and pollution in the air that you couldn't just see it, you could almost cut it.
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