Longji (16-18MAY)

Village of Ping'an, perched on the side of the terraced hillside. This was the second village we stayed in, after a day hike across the Longji Rice Terraces, and the sky had cleared just as we arrived, to give us a spectacular veiw of the valley. Small village where we stopped for a break during our day hike across the terraces. View of the valley partially cloaked in cloulds during our trek.

Serenading my new 'wife' during a traditional courting ceremony at the end of a presentation of folk song and dance.

Shops at the base of the village of Dazhaijust, at the beginning of our hike to our hotel, after eight hours on three different buses. Our hotel was on the ridgeline disappearing in the clouds in the background of the photo.

From Yangshuo we returned to Guilin, the hub of karst tourism, and then on to Longji. The weather was gloomy and gray, with rain showers and fog as we climbed into the mountains, but the lush landscape suggested that the rainy weather is common place. After our second bus journey of the day, we stopped at a small rest stop where we met our first group of women from the local Yao Tribe, which is famous for having the longest hair in the world. I would also contend that they are famous for their efforts to separate tourists from their Yuan. They were on us immediately, peddling all the local wares and post cards, and did not give up until we were pulling away in our final bus, where their last efforts to close a deal through the windows of the bus went un-rewarded. 

Our final bus ride brought us up a narrow, windy road without guardrails and sometimes only one lane for the bus traffic traveling at high speeds in both directions. The ride was a bit nerve racking for some, and we were all relieved when the bus pulled into a parking lot at the base of the village, which sprawled up the hillside into the low clouds. 

After about eight hours in three buses, we were more than happy to get out and hike the last few kilometers, even if it was trying to rain. Once we were off the bus, we almost had to wonder if the peddlers from the last stop had tailed us up the mountain, because their twin sisters where now trying to convince us that we would be better off paying them to carry our bags up the hill to our hotel, than carrying the bags ourselves. 

The importance of tourism in these areas was evident with the peddling, but became even clearer when we had to go through a ticket booth turnstile, like entering an amusement park, to get into the village. Since this was all part of my tour, I did not note the ‘price of admission’ for the village. After a short but steep hike up the terraced valley, we arrived at our hotel, which our guide had downplayed to be a spider-ridden dump. 

This was actually quite typical of Chinese culture and was a theme in our guides’ presentation of the trip throughout the journey. They tended to accentuate the negatives to allow guests to be pleasantly surprised, and/or disagree with compliments. Of course, due to the cultural differences, we were left needlessly dreading several stops along the trip, which actually turned out to be great experiences. 

The hotel was a warm timber structure with a large common area/dining area on the ground floor and rooms on the second and third levels. After getting settled in, we re-grouped for a dinner followed by a cultural show of local folk songs and dance. 

The women who put on the show, were part of the Yao tribe, like all the peddlers we had met on the way into the village, and began the show by bring out all the souvenirs they had to sale. The show did not begin until we had all had an opportunity to buy something, but it was an enjoyable show when it finally got underway. 

To close, the group of ladies performed a courting ceremony. The youngest woman in the group was blindfolded and placed in the middle of the room and the rest of the women joined the audience in a ring around the young woman. The bride to be, in the middle of the ring, was now supposed to select a groom from the ring of people circling her. This could prove challenging, since there were only three guys in the circle of about 20 people. So, when two of the woman’s cohorts slipped into the group on each side of me, I thought there was a pretty good chance I would end up the groom. 

 As suspected, she selected me as the groom, and we began a series of courting ceremonies to seal our ‘marriage.’ First we stood back to back and passed each other wedding gifts. Before the cultural show, I had purchased a small pouch to carry my ipod, which was the only thing I had to give as a gift. I bought a Snickers candy bar to put inside and passed it to my new wife. It turned out she had picked a similar pouch to give me, but since she didn’t have a Snickers bar, she gave me a pinch on the butt, when she handed me the gift. 

Next, we hooked arms and drank a shot of rice wine. I assume the wine was used to lubricate our larynx, since the final ceremony was to serenade one another with a love song. I went first, and sang ‘You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling.’ I suppose it was a little early in our relationship for us to have lost the loving feeling, but it was the first song that came to mind. 

She then sang me a traditional love song, which I later learned went something like: I don’t care how you look, as long as you love me. So, maybe the relationship wasn’t starting on the best terms. In hindsight, I should have then took her by the arm and headed upstairs to see how the group would have reacted. 

Instead, we capped the evening’s cultural exchange by teaching the women the ‘Hooky Pokey,’ which everyone had fun doing. In the morning, we awoke to more rain, and our guide gave us the option of skipping the trek across the terraces ridgeline by taking a bus instead. However, after the wild ride up the mountain in the bus the day before, and the incredible rice terraces stretched out before us, we chose to hike it. 

Fortunately, the rain let up shortly after we began the trek, and by the end, the sun was even breaking through the clouds. The trek was well worth it, and gave us a taste of the grand scale of the terraced mountain. The terraces cover over 60 square kilometers and the ridgeline is terraced from the river in the valley below, at an elevation of 350 meters, up to an elevation of 850 meters. 

With the wet weather, we rarely got a glimpse across the valley, but by the time we made it to Ping’an, the second village we stayed in, the clouds and fog had cleared enough to give us an incredible view of a fraction of the terraced valley stretched out before us. Sadly, several people in the group left the rice terraces with food poisoning, so our long trip to Hong Kong was going to feel even longer for some.

Yanshuo (12-14 MAY)

Farmer returning from the fields



Bamboo rafts shuttling tourist down the river.



View of another hot air balloon, rising above the jagged terrain.

View of Yangshuo from the top of one of the karst columns in the middle of town. The top is accessible by a trail and staircase and is crowned with a small gazebo.

The spelunking crew covered in mud and on our way back to the main entrance of the cave we just finished exploring.

Yangshuo is an inviting little city tucked in the valleys between towering Karst peaks. It has been famous for its landscape for centuries and is now a backpacker’s haven with western influences, but it still maintains an authentic local flavor as well. It is a tourist town and caters to many outdoor activities in the jagged landscape that draws climbers, cavers, rafters and more. I was looking forward to escaping the crowds and high prices of the cities, but found myself spending even more money on the myriad of activities available.

We arrived late in the evening, after a 24-hour train journey from Shanghai, and had a group dinner and some drinks, before retiring long after the city was asleep. At dinner, we had a brush with fame when Christopher Doyle, a famous director/cinematographer from Australia, stopped in at the same restaurant. No one in the group recognized him, but in talking with him, we learned about his work and looked him up online later. He is the cinematographer for many films, to include Infernal Affairs, which Martin Scorcese later re-made as The Departed, but many people feel the original is much better. He also worked on the remake of Psycho and many other films, mostly in China.

Before turning in for the night, we went to Club 98, where we tried the Intrepid Shot. It was closing time but we talked the barkeep into staying open for one more shot for our group. The shot consists of Vodka, Baileys and a teaspoon of sugar to ‘help the medicine go down.’ The ingredients are basic but the process is a bit complicated with a splash of crazy. You begin by filling a shot glass with Vodka and a splash of Baileys. The shot is then lit on fire and the teaspoon of sugar is melted over the flame before being poured into the shot causing a larger red flame to flare up from the blue burn of alcohol. After you have recovered from the surprised shock and singed knuckle hair, the shot is extinguished, stirred and a spoonful is taken out to fill the bottom of an upturned shot glass. Finally, you take the shot and snort the spoonful off the bottom of the upturned glass. The post-shot reactions and contorted faces on all of the participants were priceless. A few of the foolish revelers would have even done another round, if the bartender had not kicked us out.

On day two, I woke up early and went to the park where you can climb to the top of one of the karst towers for a commanding view of the city tucked in between the jagged tree-clung cliffs. Initially, I was going to lay low for the day, in order to save some money, but by noon, I was looking for something to do and ended up joining some of the group on a mud-caving trip. Exploring the caves gives you a feel for the forces that created the landscape. Acidic water and rain have slowly eaten away the limestone terrain, producing caves that grow and collapse, which leaves the towers behind. The valleys created between the towers, continue to funnel water into the rivers and caves to continue speed the cycle of creation, or collapse, depending on how you look at it. The cave we toured was a great example because it was filled with water, which was slowly expanding the cave beneath our feet.

We began the tour by boat, which our guide towed into the cave along a guide rope, before we disembarked inside the cave. We then hiked through a mature section of cave, which was fairly dry until we worked our way down to the younger section of the cave, where we wallowed in a mud bath. After some mud slides, fights and posing for the camera, we hiked out along a underground stream. The stream led up to our exit, a sink hole basked in green glow from light reflected off the rich vegetation lining its walls. Back above ground, we had to hike back around the towers we just hiked through to get back to the main entrance. One of the girls was slipping out of her mud slicked sandals, so I offered to give her a piggy-back ride. After sliding out of them a couple more times, she took me up on the offer, but since we were both covered in mud, she slid off my back faster than she was sliding out of her sandals. In the end, she ended up hiking most of the way back barefoot, but I ran her shoes up to her so she could get down without cutting her feet open.

At five the next morning, I was up early again, but this time I was headed out for a sunrise hot air balloon ride. A few people did not make it for the early start, due to another late night, but those who rose early were rewarded with an awesome experience. The air was a little thick with morning fog, but the mist was almost an advantage since it gave depth and definition to the karst topography that stretched out to the horizon below like jagged rows of sharks teeth. Despite what I had heard about never feeling wind in a hot air balloon, since you are traveling with the wind, I actually did feel a breeze as we drifted between air currents. It was actually quite impressive to see how varied each of the balloons’ paths were as we each drifted in different directions as we settled into different air currents, above and between the terrain. Our balloon rose quickly and began to drift northwest across Yanshuo, but then dropped back down over the Li River and caught a new air current the took us south along the rivers path until we climbed again and continued west over the city. Meanwhile, three other balloons had continued northwest at a lower elevation, which allowed them to wind between the terrain following a road, making the route look almost intentional. The sun was actually fairly high in the morning sky before it burned through the clouds and haze, bathing the landscape in a soft orange glow.

Our balloon remained separated from the rest, so our guide was busily chatting on the radio to plot our pick up point, as we were watching the limited possibilities pass below us. He finally decided on a orange orchard on the side of hill. The hill was not too steep and the orange trees were quite short, so the spot was not too bad, however, the power lines along the western edge of the field did have me a little nervous. Since I live to type this, we obviously avoided the power lines and, despite being very happy about the flight, we were also happy to be back on solid ground.

In the afternoon we went out on a bamboo rafts on the Li River along the same stretch of karst landscape that is featured on the 20 Yuan note. The area was beautiful, but after two long days, and a hot air balloon ride, it was having a hard time winning our appreciation. For our last evening in Yangshuo, we moved out of the town and into a little village inn called The Outside Inn. Our guide had played the place off as a spider ridden dump, but I found it quite inviting, relaxing and nice diversion from the touristy streets of Yangshuo. Like the name suggests, the Inn was tucked into the lush forest between several towers of limestone, hidden from the main road by a couple farms and village homes. We spent our last day relaxing on the communal patio/dining hall of the Inn and taking a bike tour to soak in the amazing landscape one last time before heading for Longji.

Shanghai (9-11 MAY)

The HuXin Ting Tea House, the oldest Tea House in Shanghai, is set in the middle of the Nine Curve Bridges, which is said to give luck to anyone who crosses it, so I did.



One of many pavilions and ponds inside the Yuyuan Garden, built in 1559 as a private garden for a local government admistrator.


Shanghai's famous skyline. The electric bill is huge and they actually kill the lights at midnight to save money and as a green measure.

The skyline at sunset, just before the lights come on, taken from a hostel above The Bund, the banking district on the banks of the Huangpu River.

Nanjing Road, a popular shopping district in the heart of Shanghai. Shanghai was the first Special Economic Zone of China and it shows.

One of the themes of the trip across China was the long train journeys. It is a huge country and the trip was similar to traveling the east coast of America by train, from Boston to Miami, with detours inland for stops in Philadelphia and Atlanta. With all that ground to cover between destinations, the overnight train rides usually stretched late into the next day. We arrived in Shanghai after 16 hours on the train and despite being tired, we were still anxious to get out and explore the new city.

Shanghai was the first Special Economic Zone in China, and the western capitalist influence is immediately noticeable. With the western architecture, influence and wealth the international business has brought to the city, it feels almost as if you are in a financial/commerce hub like San Francisco or New York, except you always seem to be on the fringe of Chinatown. You will find all the stores you would expect on Fifth Avenue, but most of the signs are still in Chinese and a wonton soup shop is always just around the corner. Nanjing road is the Fifth Avenue of Shanghai and feels like the Disneyland for shoppers. The even have a small amusement park style train to shuttle shoppers between stores. While wondering Nanjing Road, with all the western shops and fast food joints I travel to get away from, we were approached multiple times by what seemed to be helpful locals telling us, ‘Watch your bags,’ which would make one assume that pick-pockets are a problem. However, they were actually trying to sell us knock-off watches or bags.

Our hotel was just outside the city center and was nice, but it was also located on the corner of a ‘massage’ street. However, there were restaurants between every parlor as well, and since the restaurants were good, cheap and right around the corner, we tended to dine on that street often. Despite the probing eyes and catcalls from the parlors. In the evening, long after even the parlors had closed their doors; the street would be filled with local meals on wheels shops. We became regulars at one of these rolling kitchens with a wok-wheeling woman that cooked up a mean wonton soup. The mobile kitchens were much more popular with the local crowds than with tourists, so by our second and final evening, the woman knew us, and our orders, and had it cooking before we even reached her wok on wheels.

On our second day in Shanghai, we fit in a couple other sites, before returning to wok row. In the morning, we wondered the river front on both the east and west side of the river, which is interesting because the east side had all the tallest and most modern skyscrapers, while the west side is lined by the old stone banking buildings of the early twentieth century, which are dwarfed by another set of skyscrapers trying to measure up tot the east bank. After soaking in everything western, we wondered into the touristy part of town for a taste of China, the Yuyuan Gardens. The Gardens were originally built for Pan Yunduan, an government commissioner under Ming Emperor Jiajing in 1559. Now the gardens are open to the public and are an excellent example of Chinese gardens. The walls separating the various sections of the gardens are crowned with serpent-like dragon with a rolling back that stretches the length of the walls. Each section has its own theme, and the garden even includes an opera stage tucked behind walls and buildings, only accessible through a narrow passage, which opens into the grand open-air hall in front of the stage. Despite the noisy, busy streets and markets outside the walls, the garden remains a quiet escape. So quiet in fact, that a few of the girls from my group fell asleep on one of the pavilions and were only awaken by the sound of their own snoring.

Outside the gardens is HuXin Ting Teahouse, the oldest Teahouse in Shanghai. It is set in an artificial pond of fountains, marble statues and incredibly green water, on a nine-curve bridge. Beyond the teahouse, lies a tourist market filled with all things tourist might think is Chinese, but at price no local would pay. I considered trying stopping in at the teahouse for some traditional tea, but it was pretty crowded. However, it was no where near as crowded as the Starbucks around the corner. I just don’t get it. Why travel all the way to China to get coffee at Starbucks, especially when it is around the corner from the oldest teahouse in town?

Humor is often found in the translations of directions or sayings from Chinese to English. While I was in Shanghai, the saying, ‘sell the shirt off your back’ appeared to get a little mixed up. I was wondering back to the hotel from the Yuyuan Garden, one of the many shop owners approached me to push her products. At first, she was trying to sale me a shirt, but when that failed, she tried to get me to pay her to take the shirt off my back. Offering me a ‘massage’ and she had a firm grip on my arm either to show me her strength for the massage, or to pull me in the shop. She almost had this fish in the boat, but I managed to squirm out of her grasp and convince her I had no interest in gaining a new shirt, or losing mine.

That evening, we met up at the Captain’s Hostel, which has a spectacular view of the Shanghai skyline from above the Bund. We watched the skyline transition from a golden sunset shimmer to the post-dusk neon glimmer. The electric bills must be nearly as amazing as the display, and I was told they actually shut the lights off after midnight to cut back on the electric bill. The entire riverfront side of some of the buildings turned into huge movies screens that appeared to display the screensaver of the main office computer transitioning from an aquarium scene to commercials. Meanwhile in the river below them, barges were floating by with more jumbo-tron screens blasting their own bright ads to compete with the buildings behind them. Plus the iconic Oriental Pearl radio tower, with its light covered sphere flashing like a bursting fireworks, was yet another light show competing for our attention.

Meanwhile behind us on the patio bar was the classic ‘Ugly Americans’ and would you know, they were from New Jersey. When we arrived at Captains, the group was already getting a little rowdy, and one of the guys was already beer battered, having spilt his brew down the front of his button down dress shirt. They looked like they might have money and acted as if they were friends of Tony Soprano. As the evening wore on, they continued to go down hill. Despite the music’s low volume and the quiet groups around them, they insisted on carrying on their conversation as if they were in a club, sitting in front of the main speakers. In the end, I think the loudest members of the group even became embarrassments to the group itself and, much to the appreciation of us and the restaurants staff, they finally left, allowing the rest of us to enjoy the superb view and light show across the river. Of course, since I was the only American in the group, I was left to defend Americans in general, and to explain that New Yorkers and the obnoxious people of New Jersey are a bit of an anomaly and embarrassment to all of us.

On our last day in Shanghai, I wanted to go to an internet café, and our guide had told us there was one just around the corner. It sounded like it would be simple to find but I wondered up and down the street three times until another local warning me to ‘watch my bags’ finally helped me find the place. It was in a non-descript multi-story office building, with a few storefronts on the first level. The watch and bag man took me down a service hall to an elevator that looked like it might not even be in service. He directed me to the fourth floor and when the doors opened, I was in a video game arcade. However, tucked in the back of the arcade was the speakeasy cyber-café. It was as if I had found myself in the cyber prohibition and to get a drink in the e-world you had to know a guy that knew a guy, plus the secret knock and the password to get in the door. Amazing. Yangshuo was our next stop, so it was back to the train station and I could only hope the cyber cafes would be easier to find.

Xian (6-8 MAY)

Terracotta Warriors under reconstruction in the largest of three satellite tombs that have been uncovered. All the tombs were ransacked, with the warriors destroyed and there weapons stolen, during an uprising after the emperors death.


Ollie and I riding early versions of the mechanical bull... they weren't mechanical... weren't even on rockers... and actually weren't suppose to be rode.

The formations of reconstructed warriors as they were initially laid out. Each hall was covered with wooden beams and buried. They were buried with the Emperor in 210 BC and were not rediscovered until 1974 by a local farmer, who now has a career signing autographs at the exhibit.

The bell tower in the center of Xians walled city.

North face of the old city wall, which was first built in 194 BC and rebuilt in the 14th century. Each of the four sides of the wall has a different animal on the lantern posts. Here you can see the west (Dragon) and north (Jaguar). Xian was the first capital of unified China and has one of the only preserved city walls.

Despite a long and prestigious history as a capital and eastern hub of the Silk Road, modern Xian’s history is a little more like that of Detroit. It became an industrial capital with an ugly skyline and demographically misbalanced with a large male population filling these blue-collar positions. Crime was high, work was limited and undesirable, and women fled the city for education and hopes of marrying out. However, it has had somewhat of a renaissance since China has opened its borders for tourism, the Terracotta Warriors were discovered just outside the city in 1974, and universities have been established in the city. The population is still predominantly young men, and our local guide, Jimmy, uses his podium to encourage the young women in the group to stay and marry a local (preferably him). Our primary guide, Tracy, warned us petty crime is still a problem, and Xi’an is where tourists are most likely to be robbed on their trip across China. As if to highlight the fact, one of the girls in our group nearly had her camera stolen from her bag as she boarded a bus. Once we got beyond the bad press, the city was actually quite charming. We started our visit with a tour around the 12 km wall around the center of the city. The wall has entrances in the four cardinal directions and at the southern entrance, you can rent bikes to ride around the circumference. We rented several tandem bikes and took a leisurely ride around stopping at each of the four corners as well as the four gates to take pictures. The city, both within the wall and outside it, was a mix of eastern and western styles of architecture. A lot of the eastern style buildings were actually the newer buildings and part of the city’s attempt to re-establish some of it’s roots, while the western architecture is mostly industrial/functional structures that serve as more of an eyesore on the skyline. I had expected the city within the walls to be well-preserved example ancient Chinese cities, but it was very modern, except for a few preserved pagodas, drum and bell towers, and most of the efforts to re-build in eastern styles. I was also surprised to find that one of the preserved districts within the cities walls was a Islamic district, which was established by the traders that traveled the Silk Road from the Middle East to Xian. After biking the wall, I wondered through an art district at the south gate and then hopped on a bus, which should have brought me back to the hotel. Unfortunately, I was on the wrong side of the road, and therefore caught the bus going in the opposite direction. I assumed it traveled a loop and I’d just ride it around to see the city and eventually make it back to the hotel. Eventually, I did make it back to the hotel. However, first, the bus drove to the southern end of town and terminated at a bus depot, where I had to transfer and pay a second fare to get back to the city center. If I had not spent the afternoon joy riding the local transit, I would have liked to explore the parks/gardens along the remnants of the moat that once surrounded the city wall, which I had noticed earlier when we were on the wall. On our second day in Xian, we took a tour out to the Terracotta Warriors. This is when we met Jimmy, our local guide and he did a great job talking up the town, all its tourist attractions, and downplaying any negative press. The warriors were impressive, but rather than going there directly, we had to stop at one of the many terracotta gift emporiums along the way. This was common on tours and I am sure the guides get some kickbacks for our stop and purchases. At any rate, the emporium did have some cool mini-cotta warriors and headless warriors to stand behind for picture ops.
The exhibit is broken up into several buildings. The largest is around 200 meters long and 100 meters wide, and has the restored formations at the front and many of the terrocotta warriors that are being restored toward the back. A smaller building has a headquarters element where a Terracotta General and several chariots and horses were found. Then there is another large building which has the formations partially uncovered but most have the remains of the old wooden beams, which are now bowed, still covering the halls, and the few that are uncovered show the ruined remains littering the halls, as they were found. And lastly there is a museum with a giant terracotta marionette, standing about 2o feet tall that was used in show to promote the exhibit.
Though the vast formations of uncovered and restored warriors are impressive, they represent only a fraction of the entire army of statues, which is estimated to include over 8,000 soldiers, 130 chariots and 670 horses, and it is only a fraction of the larger tomb or the first Emperor of a unified China, Qin Shi Huang. The entire tomb, which has actually never been fully excavated is truly and kingdom taken to the grave. Around 205 BC, only a few years after the Emperor died, most of his terracotta army was destroyed in a revolt. The tombs were set on fire and reportedly burned for five months! Ironically, the Emperor's son, who had ascended the throne, was killed with weapons taken from the terracotta soldiers when the tombs were raided.

After the revolt, the tombs location was lost to history until 1974, when a farmer digging a well rediscovered them. In the exhibit hall with the restored formations of soldiers, you can see how close others were to discovering the tombs. Some graves, established long after the Emperor’s, were uncovered along with the warriors and are visible in the wall between the formations. The farmer that did uncover the tomb was rewarded by the state for the find and probably to buy the land, and now he spends his days signing autographs rather than tending fields.

In the evening, our group celebrated one of the member’s birthday at a local restaurant and a few pubs. The dinner was accompanied multiple rounds of rice wine and by the end of the evening we were planning the birthday girl’s marriage to a local boy at the neighboring table and riding stilt horses along the wall. We later learned that the Chinese writing on the front of the horses said, ‘Do not ride.’ The birthday girl also had a huge bowl of long noodles, which is a birthday tradition in China in which the long noodles represent a wish for long life. This of course came after a huge meal and she did not last long against the long noodles. After dinner, we moved the party to a local nightclub, where the girls undressed the bartenders, and we danced on the bar and spent half the evening behind the bar until the place closed.

For our last day in Xian, we spent a few hours at the museum and a city park with both the Small Wild Goose Pagoda, and China’s largest fountain. Unfortunately, we missed seeing the cities Giant Wild Goose Pagoda, as well as the fountain’s daily show set to lights and music. The Pagodas are thousands of years old and one of them is famous because an earthquake cracked it in half, and years later, another earthquake repaired the crack! Sadly, I learned this after my visit, so I did not get to see the crack that is no longer there… if that is even possible…

Last Day In Beijing (5MAY)

CCTV headquarters, said to have as much office space as the Pentagon. Notice the building next door which has noticeable fire damage... there's a funny story behind that...


Beijings World Trade Center Tower, China's tallest building. Just a few blocks from the CCTV Building


The Olympic Swim cube and a crazy Olympic torch inspired skyscraper, which has a huge TV/jumbotron screen on it.

More of the Olympic Park Grounds, grand walkway, lighting and the Control tower.

The birdsnest main Olympic stadium.

Our last day in Beijing was a bit of an architectural tour for me. I had read a national Geographic special on China and Beijing, which had highlighted a lot of the new construction that was rapidly dominating the skylines of Beijing with greater western influence than some locals, and worldwide culture conservationists, care to see. I would agree that a lot of historical structures and even neighborhoods are being lost, but I am not going to pretend I have a pulpit to preach from on this front.

I can say I was amazed as I traveled across the country and saw the expansive the constructions efforts in almost every city and village. At times, it even seemed like entire cities and suburbs were being built from the ground up and were only populated by the constructions workers raising the skyline from the earth. A horizon dotted with cranes, the skeletons of buildings slowly being filled in with the circulations systems of plumbing, and electrical circuitry, meat of insulation still flapping in the wind before the skin of siding could be applied to conceal it all. In some areas, even the new construction was already in decay, leaning and crumbling victims of recent earthquakes, in a sad state of ruin before even the first tenant had moved in.

Back in Beijing, we stopped in the Chaoyang district in the eastern section of the city for our last few hours before catching the train to Xian. Most of the new buildings I saw there was complete and quickly being filled by the consumers of the new capitalist state. However, there were also a few new construction sites were still springing up in the spaces between. Some of the buildings I had read about in National Geographic were in this district, like the China World Trade Center, which is the tallest building in China. I had also read about the new CCTV tower, which was under construction when the article was published but had recently been completed. I was struggling to find it, which was surprising since it is such a large building, I expected to see it on the horizon, but could not see beyond the canopy of the urban jungle on any street I wondering along.

While searching for the CCTV building, I ran into ‘Ricky,’ a local ‘artist’ that chatted with me for a few minutes, before inviting me up to see his art exhibition. This is a common scam on the streets of Beijing where ‘local artists’ will invite you to their exhibition and charge exorbitant amounts for the artwork, which is often not really even their work. I knew this going in and did not have any intention to buy anything, but the kid seemed friendly enough, so I took him up on the offer to look. He showed me a few of the works he claimed as his own as well as many of the nicer pieces that were said to be done by his instructor. He did a good job explaining the meaning behind the various pieces. He had painted a collection of paintings representing the four seasons. He explained that the seasons also represent a persons life (Spring: Birth, Summer: Youth, Autumn: Adulthood/Productive Years and Winter: Retirement/Old Age). He nearly insulted me by saying I was in the autumn of my life, but quickly recovered by explaining that those are often your best years.

I enjoyed chatting with him and as expected, we ended up getting down to the business of discussing a purchase. To sweeten the deal he also introduced me to his instructor who painted my name in Chinese characters as a thank you for visiting. Of course, we had to wait for it to dry and what better way to wait, than looking for a piece to buy. I entertained him and we discussed his artwork on the seasons, and in the end I walked away with Spring and Autumn for 30 dollars, which was a little high for China but not bad. I would like to hope Ricky was really the artist, and I wish him a rich harvest in the autumn of his career.

On my way out, they gave me direction to the CCTV building and also informed me that the locals affectionately refer to the building as men’s underwear because of it’s unique design of two towers joined by a bridge along the upper floors. I also later learned that the building next to it was damaged by fire when the workers set off fireworks to celebrate the completion of the CCTV tower. The ensuing damage is reportedly valued at 13 billion Yuan (approx. six billion US Dollars), and the construction workers are still at large.

Another common scam in Beijing is cute ‘college girls’ who approach western men and ask them if they would come with them to a tea house, so the ‘students’ can practice their English. The westerner then gets stuck with the bill for tea that costs about six dollars for each thimble sized glass. I also met a few attractive young students and, though the never said they wanted to practice their English, they did ask if I would like to join them for tea. We chatted for a bit, and they were fun to talk with, but I excused myself to buy sunglasses at the flea market across the street. I do not know if they were legitimate students or not, but they did help me by telling me not to pay more than 30 Yuan for sunglasses. Armed with this advice, I entered and found a sunglass shop, the girl working at the shop helped me pick out a pair and then we began to barter a price on a hand held calculator.
She began with, “I like you. Normally I sell these glasses for 500 but for you…” she typed 300.
I laughed and said, “I like your enthusiasm, but I’m thinking…” I typed 30.
“No, you need to type serious price so we can barter. Here…” Again she typed 300.
“This is a serious offer…” again I type 30.
“No, you must go higher before I go lower. These are high quality sunglasses…” so this time I type 20.
Now, I was breaking all the rules and she did not like it at all. I think she then typed 320 and I told her to have a good day, and I would shop elsewhere, since this was a five story mall of street side style stalls selling tons of the same fake copies of brand name merchandise. As I tried to walk away she grabbed at my arm and tried to reinvigorate the bartering banter but, realizing it was going nowhere, finally surrendered to the 30 Yuan price with a huff. Whether or not the girls on the street were trying to con me with tea, I do thank them for the advice on the glasses.

In addition to the Chaoyang district, we also made a quick stop at the Olympic complex, which was still busy with a few tourists but felt very empty compared to the crowds in the rest of the city. I had seen the buildings highlighted on the news coverage of the games, but I was surprised at how large the entire Olympic complex area was. In such a crowded and tightly packed city, it seemed like the grand walk/parade areas, that were at least 100 yards wide and several blocks long, were out of place and a waste of space. The area also had a similar feeling as some of the other areas of rapid expansion construction across the country. Though the games had just passed, the area felt like it was both just being completed and simultaneously beginning to decay. The grounds seemed like they had just been planted, but in need of grooming and the buildings had temporary barriers erected to direct the crowds to operating entrances and the swimming cube already had sections of its bubbled exterior deflated and torn.

The Great Wall

View of a section of the Wall we hiked, from the peak where we watched sunrise


Sun rising over the jagged terrain that the Wall straddles



The zip line we took down from the wall after hiking 11 km of wall. (Our hotel was at the south end of the lake in the upper left of the photo.)

A portion of the Wall we hiked, which extends to the peak of the hill in upper left of the photo, and looked the same behind me, four times over, to get back to our start point.

Some of the 67 towers along the portion of the wall we hiked. Each one guarded by a farmer selling overpriced refreshments to the ill prepared tourists.

The stonewall, ditches and natural barriers that make up 'The Great Wall' stretch some 5500 miles across the country from east to west, and were created in order to keep out the Mongolian hoards that once threatened China from the north. We covered a mere seven miles of the Wall just northeast of Beijing, and every bit of the hike was either up or down hills and stairs, which also makes the Great Wall great exercise. Along the route, we saw more local farmers turned refreshment salesmen, than other tourists, which meant the salesmen were pretty keen on getting you to buy from them. Occasionally one would actually offer a decent price, but most just tried to convince you that it might be your last chance to get a drink this cold on the Wall. Fortunately, since they had to haul the large coolers up the hill and across the wall, they made little effort to stand up or follow you while trying to talk you into refreshments, so the hustling only lasted as long as you stuck around.

In addition to the hawkers, there was also a point along the wall where you cross into another province, and they post a toll keeper to get their cut of tourism revenue, despite the fact that everyone pays to get on the wall in the other province. Since we were with a guided group, we knew this was coming, and our guide paid the toll. However, some of the other tourists were taken a back and thought it was just another scam, or farmer trying to make a buck and refused to pay. One even went as far as to double back up the wall to a point he could climb down to a path that bypassed the toll. And, just like the refreshment salesmen, the toll keeper seemed unconcerned and wasn’t about the abandon his post to intercept the guy and make him pay.

Our tour also hired a local guide to take us across the wall. He began the trip showing some promise by getting on the buses microphone and telling us a little about Beijing. He noted the obvious, that the city had a lot of cars and bikes and that the city wall had been torn down to make room for more roads. And, he closed by saying he would tell us more about the Great Wall when we got closer… he did not. As a matter a fact, not only did he not tell us any more about the wall, while we were hiking the wall, he offered no information about the route, tolls, or history and trailed along within the group like he was just another tourist. When the members of the group did ask him questions about the wall, he had little to no information of use to them. For instance:
Question: "Hey Mr Knowledgeable Guide, when was the wall built?"
Answer, from said 'knowledgeable guide': "From time to time."

From time to time!?! What kind of answer is that?! Although it is kind of accurate, since the wall was built, re-built and fortified from the 5th century BC until the 16th century AD. But still, ‘from time to time?!’ is a little vague. Maybe he could have told us that the Qin Dynasty unified China’s states around 220 BC and significant work on the wall occurred then. Or, that in the 15th century, the Ming Dynasty fortified the wall defenses with the much more elaborate and extensive stone fortifications we see today.

Or maybe, he was just an idiot and really hadn’t even paid attention during his history class. Or even, might have been a high school drop out, and the only job he could pull was this English speaking gig, which applied all language skills he cultivated by watching U-tube and MTV! In the end, I don’t know if I should be mad at him, or the travel industry that hired him to be a guide without any qualifying knowledge or skills.

Aahhh, well, maybe I should just let it go and get back to my experience on the wall. Our group finished the hike in four hours, which our more knowledgeable long term guide for the trip across China, informed us was the fastest any of her groups had ever hiked the wall. (She also later acknowledged the fact that our guide for the Wall, was indeed incompitent.) We were proud of our speed hiking skills of course, although we really had taken our time. Stopping for lunch and pictures along the way... chatting with our expert guide about the walls construction. Really, it was not that impressive a feat, but to reward ourselves, we stopped for an ice cream at the end of our hike. China has some interesting ice cream flavors, like corn, bean and even green peas. However, we settled on the less extravagant flavors like Vanilla with chocolate shell. After our ice cream, we capped off the experience with a zip line ride, which took us from the edge of the wall, over a lake, to a boat that delivered us to our hotel's doorstep. Now that's what I call traveling in style.

Our hotel was simple, but was set on a lake with a beautiful view of the wall towering above along the jagged hillside. My one complaint about the place was the fact that they built the rooms all facing into a courtyard with no windows facing out across the lake to capitalize on the impressive view. The terrain was so harsh you almost wondered why they even bothered building a wall atop the jagged hills, and in fact, portions of the wall were little more than a leveled brick path along the top of hill to accommodate troop movements. However, in the morning we learned just how arduous and slow such troop movements must have been.

We awoke before dawn to climb the wall for sunrise and at first found ourselves trapped within the confines of the hotel walls. After wondering through the kitchen and back alleys of the staff, we finally found a way out and headed for the wall. Our hike was entirely up hill, and what started out as a leisurely stroll, soon became a stair-master championship as we raced against the imminent sunrise. For some the early morning climb proved too much, and they enjoyed the sunrise from points along the way.  However, a few of us made it to the peak and were rewarded with breath-taking views of the of the jagged terrain of sharp peaks separated and accented by the early morning mist that filled the valleys between.

Looking out over the terrain, I again had to wonder how the Mongolian forces ever made successful advances on China. But as Sun Tzu said:
“Military tactics are like unto water; for water in its natural course runs away from high places and hastens downwards... Water shapes its course according to the nature of the ground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in relation to the foe whom he is facing. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so in warfare there are no constant conditions. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his opponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-born captain.”

So too was the weakness of the wall, for in the valleys below, concealed by fog, were the rivers that divide the wall. Since the wall was discontinuous the Mongolians only had to find the weak points, which is true of any static fortifications. The French made the same mistakes when they built elaborate and extensive static defenses along the Maginot Line after WWI, only to watch the Germans slip through the cracks at the onset of WWII. But I digress, really you have to, whenever there is an opportunity to rag on the French. The sunrise was beautiful, the Mongolians were peaceful and hundreds of miles away, and I had to get back down the mountain to catch a bus back to Beijing.

Beijing Temples/Palaces (30APR-3MAY)

Veiw of the Forbidden City from north, Tienanman Square is on the horizon beyond the City.


Palace of Governance in the Forbidden City


Group photo in Tienanmen Square with locals slipping in. In front of us was our lone guide with all our cameras surrounded by a hoard of May Day visitors to the Square taking pictures of the Westerners.

Emperor's Prayer Hall at the Temple of Heaven.

Summer Palace

On my second day in Beijing, I was ready to get back into the culture and history with a trip to the Summer Palace. The palace is a large and beautiful complex of temples and palaces built around a large lake. It was renovated/refurbished by Empress Cixi with funds meant for the Navy... one of the risks of putting national defense funds in the hands of an Empress I suppose.... at least it is built around a body of water, which is kind of associated with the Navy. Anyway, Empress Cixi actually has an impressive history of rule from 'behind the curtain' at the end of China's imperial period. She began as a concubine, but provided the Emperor with his only male heir. She then went on to rule, through control of her son, followed by her nephew, until her death in 1908. During her time of influence, she gained the nickname Dragon Lady, for her charm I'm sure, which has stuck until present day. But I digress.

Back at the Summer Palace, the grounds were quite impressive and a section of it now serves as a bit of a museum for Cixi with pictures of her around the Palace grounds, the opera house that she had built for her, her car (a first in China) and many other items of memorabilia.

After returning to the hostel that evening, I met a German couple and a guy from Australia, who I joined for a trip down Wangfujing Street, a famous snack food street lined with food stalls, where you can eat a little of nearly anything. We tried fried silk worms, which tasted like pumpkin seeds, but had a mushy middle; snake, which I really thought was squid; sheep testicle, which surprisingly tasted like chicken, but also with a mushy middle; and some normal snacks like fried dough covered in sesame seeds; chicken, which thankfully tasted like chicken; and sweet tea (with dry ice in it, so it would fit in with the crazy stuff.) The Australian also tried cat, which smelled like a litter box, but looked like beef; and a sea urchin, which almost made him vomit. In addition, there were scorpions and an assortment of other strange insect and meat kabobs.

The vendors were great entertainment, as they tried to sell us everything they had to offer. If you were to believe them, everything was an aphrodisiac to improve male stamina. Possibly more amusing, was watching the reactions of both the people eating the 'delicacies' as well as the audience of curious passer-by's that gathered to watch the more courageous, or theatrical, diners trying the stranger items on the menu.

The next morning, I awoke without being sick, which I suppose is a bonus, and headed for the Temple of Heaven. I expected it to be a quiet place of reflection, but instead found the surrounding gardens were more like a public park with crowds of locals playing cards, doing Tai Chi, watching local musicians jam, and enjoying all the other festivities one might expect to find on a sunny day in the park. It was also the May Day holiday weekend, so the place was packed with Chinese tourist from around the country, who overwhelmingly out numbered western tourists.

The temple was interesting, but several areas were closed, possibly due to the large holiday crowds. The buildings and grounds were impressive in the first place, but the fact that the emperors only used the temple once a year to conduct large ceremonial animal sacrifices and prayer for good harvests made its grand scale even more remarkable. The grounds cover nearly three square kilometers. Plus, the emperors prayer hall is a three tiered round temple made entirely of wood (no nails!) that stands over 100 feet tall and sits on three more round platforms of marble... and the emperor only prayed here once a year! I had mentioned some of the unfortunate losses of historic Beijing, due to the Olympic preparations, in my last post. However, one of the good things brought about by the games was the restoration work on tourist sites, like the great wall and temples like the Temple of Heaven, which reportedly had a five million dollar facelift before the games and renovation work was still ongoing.

In the evening, I met my new tour group and leader and continued the adventures in dining from the day before. This time the delicacies were frog, which tastes like fishy chicken, but was chopped up with bones and all, which made it too much work to pick the meat from the scrap to make it worth eating; and duck stomach, which was like really chewy beef. Again, I made it through the night without getting sick, so I count it as a success.

On day two of the May Day holiday, we headed for Tiananmen Square. The fair-haired girls in the group quickly became the tourist attraction, to all the Chinese tourist in the square. Then, when we all gathered for a group photo in front of the Forbidden City, a huge crowd of local tourists gathered in front of us, to take pictures of the white people, as well as slipping in amongst the group to be in the picture.

About a month after our visit, the world observed the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre (or The June Fourth Incident/Movement as it is called in China). It was interesting to see some of the few images of the aftermath and recognize the buildings in the background around the square, which were all built in 1959 to mark the 10th anniversary of 'new' China and have not changed since that deadly day in June 1989. In China the anniversary was not recognized, nor was it discussed during my tour of the square. An estimated 400-800 people were killed, many more were arrested, and immediately after the event, foreign journalists were restricted to their rooms and banned from the country all together.

We continued our tour from Tiananmen Square into the Forbidden City past the ever following eyes of Mao, whose photo stands tall on the outer wall of the city over watching the square. The Forbidden City is an impressive work of extravagance built on the backs of a people forbidden from the grounds for five centuries, until the fall of the empire in the early 1900s. The day I visited, due to the May Day holiday, it felt like half the country was trying to get a peak inside the walls. During the visit, I also learned even Starbucks had gotten a hold of some forbidden real estate until they were kicked out in favor of a local coffee house chain. The central spine of the Forbidden City had a similar lay out to most palaces I had visited in Asia, with 'business' palaces up front for the Emperors meetings with government and military officials, followed by the Emperors 'office palace' and then the 'living quarters' palaces for Emperor and Empress, and finally the gardens at the very back. However, the city also had a large west wing for up to 3000 concubines and an eastern wing for the emperor’s children and family. The concubine section included more of Empress Cixi's memorabilia recording her rise from the bottom rungs of concubine city to the top of Empire.

The last temple/palace I visited while in Beijing, was the Yonghegong Lama Temple a Buddhist Monastery of Tibetan Buddhism, which served as a palace for Prince Yong Yin Zhenin the 1700s before being converted into a monastery. Today, it remains a significant monastery and houses the largest Buddha carved from a single piece of wood, which stands nearly over 75 feet tall. The grounds were not as grand as the other palaces and temples, but they were very busy with Buddhist patrons coming for prayer and a few monks as well. The air was thick with the smoke of incense sticks carrying the prayers of the faithful to the heavens. The sticks were planted, like the needles of a porcupine’s back, in large pots outside each temple. Inside the temples were various statues of gods and Buddhas, which represent or are dedicated to different Buddhas of past, present, future, healing, good fortune, wisdom etc. Unlike the other temples and palaces across Beijing that were loud and busy with tourists, this temple was tranquil and truly felt like a place of reflection and worship.

Beijing Arrival and Day One(28/29APR)

My arrival into Beijing was exhausting, with over 48 hours of travel from Darjeeling to Siliguri (it's fun to say, but not to stay), Mumbai, 18 hours at the airport before Singapore, and finally Beijing. Once I arrived I then had to find my way from the Airport to my hostel, which I had been told was a challenge in itself. Some friends had stayed there and arrived in Beijing at midnight, got dropped off in the wrong area, walked for hours until they found a friendly, English speaking, local that could direct them in the right direction. Luckily, I arrived in the middle of the day, but I was still a little nervous. I took the bus into town and then tried to catch a cab, but for some reason, when I told them the address they refused my money and sped away, which I found quite odd. A cyclo driver was willing to take me, but I thought it was too far for him to be pedaling me, and he was charging too much. I met a girl from the west who knew her way around and she recommended the subway and was heading that way when another taxi driver offered his services. Of course, once he knew where I was going he changed his tune, but directed me back to the same cyclo driver! I was tired and surrendered to his eager service. He pedaled me through the back allies of the city, past all the local laborers in their uniform dress of overalls and plastic yellow hard hats. They all seemed to be heading home for the night as well and the sky was beginning to dim with the setting sun. Finally, my driver popped out on a main road running along the east side of the Forbidden City, and I knew my hostel was close. I spotted the sign and pointed it out to my driver, who didn't understand me and kept on pedaling down the road. Fortunately, he stopped to ask directions about a block later and got turned around. It was great to finally arrive and my hostel was cozy with a welcoming common area and I settled in for dinner there, too tired to seek out the local cuisine.

On my first full day in Beijing, I got a late start after chatting the morning away with a girl from Munich. She had traveled through SE Asia for 18 months on 6,000 Euro! I couldn't believe she could survive that long on so little money. Apparently she did a lot of home stays in small villages surviving on fish and rice... not exactly comfort, but impressive all the same.

In the afternoon, I met up with another guest at the hostel from Sweden, Tor, and we headed out to explore the 798 Art District. On the way we met up with a South African girl headed the same way and she joined our duo as well. I was looking forward to a break from the cultural/historical sites and the art district sounded like an interesting way to do it. The area is very large and covers several city blocks of old industrial buildings, which have been converted into art galleries, studios, coffee houses and restaurants. The art spills into the streets as well, with large sculptures of everything from babies on tanks, to cafe seating areas set up to look like a bird cage for patrons. Even some of the buildings were artsy, like a store front covered in PVC pipes and a coffee house with a glass door shaped like a coffee cup, which was filled with coffee beans between the panes of glass. I was also surprised to see how much of the art had anti-regime/communism themes. There were studios of both modern art and more traditional styles as well as some photography studios with modern twists, like a series of photos that were manipulated to make the landscape and portraits appear to be underwater. We spent the whole afternoon wondering a little aimlessly through the galleries and studios, until the place began to close down. We had no maps or guides to the area, but I'm pretty sure we only scratched the surface of what they had to offer.

Traveling through the city, I was impressed by how modern it was and would continue to be impressed with this throughout my trip through China. However, it is sad to think about all the traditional buildings and neighborhoods that have been lost in the countries rapid growth. I read some article about the old neighborhoods that were leveled to build the Olympic grounds and was amazed at how large an area the complex covers, so the amount of historical buildings and dislocated families must have been incredible. In that light, it is nice that some of the old industrial buildings, and history, have been preserved in the 798 Art District, so I guess I was touring a little history and culture there after all.

Darjeeling (21-26APR)

My trip to Darjeeling actually began with grand plans to visit a Wildlife Refuge, cross the border on a day trip to Bhutan, and trekking the Himalayan foothills. Unfortunately, I had eaten something that didn't agree with me (possibly the McDonald's Veggie burger), so I had to take a day off in Siliguri and spent 24 hours in bed or on the toilet. In addition the tourism office had pretty lousy hours of operation, so I decided to just head for Darjeeling and look into trekking when I got there.

After my 24 hour respite, I caught a shared Jeep Taxi up the mountain to Darjeeling. The trip was suppose to take two and a half hours, but turned into an all day affair. Our driver must have eaten at McDonald's as well, because he was stopping every hour to squat behind a tree or use a roadside toilet. At the fifth stop, he came back out with a new driver, I assumed he was swapping out so he could stay by a toilet, but he jumped in the back seat instead. The new driver started the Jeep and broke the transfer case as soon as he put the truck in gear. We hung around the jeep about 15 minutes, and I was wondering how we'd get the rest of the way to Darjeeling but had no one to ask that spoke English. My answer came when everyone started moving to another jeep that had room for our group and our driver slipped the new driver some cash. We transferred luggage, got cozier and finished the journey.

The drive was long, but the scenery was impressive and the air cooled as we climbed into the clouds. When we arrived, the city was cloaked in clouds, and I hiked up the hill to the center of town to check into the Bellevue Hotel. The hotel had it's own charm with wood paneling, a rooftop shrine, small garden and windows overlooking the town square. It was ran by a Tibetan man who had worked with the Dali Lama in his younger years and had old pictures of those days lining some of the walls. The city is draped over a steep ridge so everywhere you go is either up or down and most roads run parallel to one another and are connected by stairs. Despite the fact that I was still in India, the area and people did not look Indian but reflected more of a mix of the surrounding countries of Nepal, China and Bhutan. The city is packed with buildings clinging to the steep slopes, and gives way to lush green of tea plantations and the rich vegetation of foothill forests of Bamboo and evergreens. However, the air was thick with clouds, fog and haze my entire visit so the scenery faded quickly, and I rarely saw a horizon and never beyond to the mountains beyond.

Since the weather seemed questionable with rain and cloudy skies forecasted for the next few days, and I was not feeling 100 percent, I decided against the trekking. However, I did meet two Aussie girls that went on a four day trek during my stay. They reported great weather, saw all five of the major peaks and couldn't stop raving about how well the trek turned out... of course, I was jealous and would have been happier if they didn't talk about it at all.

I also wanted to go white water rafting while I was there and assumed the spring run off would have the rivers rumbling. Unfortunately, that was not the case and the tour groups weren't even running rafting trips because the river was actually too low! My final disappointment was an early morning trip to Tiger Hill to watch the sunrise and try to catch a glimpse of Mt Everest and the other peaks that you can see from the hill on a good day. Sadly, it was not a good day and we couldn't even see Darjeeling five kilometers up the ridge. The sun had probably risen an hour before it finally burned through/climbed over the mist and clouds and into view from the three story viewing station that has been built on the hill to facilitate all the tourist like me, who make this morning pilgrimage. The other tourist were probably the most interesting part of the trip. They were mostly Indian and let out a collective cheer when the sun finally came into view.

I did take a few tourist trips around the town to visit the Botanical Gardens, Zoo, the Mountaineering Institute, and Happy Valley Tea Plantation. The Mountaineering Institute only made me more disappointed that I hadn't made it on a trek, but I actually had a relapse with my 'Dehli belly' or 'Kolkata cramps' as the case may be, so I was probably better off missing out. We did our own trek down to the Tea Plantation, which the Lonely Planet made out to be a must see, but a drive by would have sufficed. The tea pickers are quite colorful against the green blanket tea bushes, with umbrellas of every shade connected to the baskets on their backs for tea leaves. Anyway, I did not feel the best on the hike down to the plantation, which may have dampened my opinion of the plantation tour. I had no appatite and felt exausted when we got back, and I ended up spending another 24 hours between bed and the bathroom and went to the pharmacy for antibiotics the next day. Despite being ill, I was happy that it happened during my free week between tours, so I had a chance to do nothing... even if I would have much rathered done more.

Despite all the disappointments, I did meet two good guys from Australia that I hung out with through out my stay in Darjeeling. They were traveling through India before heading into Nepal to climb to the first hill station on Everest. They were great company, and I hope the rest of their trip went well. It would have been nice to join them, but I was off to continue my own adventure. All that stood between me and China was another Jeep back down the mountain to catch another overnight bus, and a 18 hour wait at the airport for my flight out of India. Oh joy!

Kolkata (18/19APR)

The bastard son of the East India Company, pulled from the gutters by Mother Teresa, this is Kolkata. Kolkata's history as a city is fairly short, as it was initially a series of villages that the British occupied/bought and turned into the capital of the East India Company in 1690. Fort William was constructed and a large area was cleared around the fort for security. The area that was cleared remains today and is now a large park in the center of the city called the Maidan. The architecture through out the city still reflects the British rule, and at the northeast end of the Maidan the old city center/center for the East India Company looks like it could have been pulled right out of London. However, the piles of trash and hulks of old taxis under the trees along the road reminded you that you were still in India.
By the time we arrived in Kolkata, I was getting tired of India, so it was good that the city was my last stop with the tour. As I was preparing to leave the city, I realized I really hadn't taken many photos, which is probably a reflection of my wavering motivation, since the city did have character as well as characters on the streets that I could have captured. On our first day, we settled into the hotel and waited for the day to cool off in the late afternoon before venturing out for some site seeing. We arrived fairly early in the morning and decided to have some breakfast at the hotel, while we waited for our rooms. The hotel bar/restaurant had the look of a night club rather than a restaurant and despite the early hour, the staff's first offering was cold beer. We passed on the beer and ordered some of their breakfast options. The food was pretty bad and the service was horrendous. I really couldn't believe how bad it was. They had a staff of five attending to our group, the only customers in the place, and yet the food took forever, orders were wrong and even getting a bottle of water was a chore. Despite all of this we went back the following evening for a drink before bed but despite a decent crowd, they closed promptly and swiftly at eleven. My roommate wanted to buy a water, as we were paying for our drinks and getting urged toward the door. Granted we probably should have known better from our experience getting water in the morning, but he tried anyway. As not to blemish their record of poor customer service, they actually told him he would have to order it through room service!?! I would think this makes absolutely no since as it would be easier to give him the bottle right there rather than send someone up to the fifth floor to drop it off at our room, but they insisted. So, he requested the water at the front desk and five minutes later they brought the water to our room, but had no change, so they had to make a second trip with that as well. Amazing.
But I digress. Our first evening we walked through some of the slums and back roads where we saw a lot of campaign posters and signs for the local communist party. It is strange to see the hammer and sickle like Soviet Union's flag flying around a democratic country, but our guide told us that the communist party is actually more like the Labor Party in England and actually holds a majority of seats for some of the Indian provinces. We continued on to the convent where Mother Teresa lived, worked and is now buried. It is still an active convent and has a small museum about her life. She was born Albanian in present day Skopje, Macedonia, but left to become a nun at age 18 and never returned home. She began her work in India in 1929 and saw the famine and Hindu/Muslim violence of the 1940s when Bangladesh broke away from India. It was during this time that she had the calling to establish the Missionaries of Charity in Kolkata. She initially wondered the streets, amongst the destitute she would later help, and had to beg for food and shelter, before she established her first mission with 13 members,. At the time of her death, it had expanded to 610 missions in 123 countries. The museum was simple, but her life story is amazing and made me feel guilty about my leisurely travels.
On our second day in Kolkata, a group of us went down to the BBD Bagh, which is named after three freedom fighters, Benoy, Badal, Dinesh who shot and killed the British Inspector of Prison's as he stood in a window of the Writer's Building in the square. The Writer's Building was the headquarters of the East Indian Company and is named for the clerks that kept track of all the Companies paperwork in the building. Across the street is the Post Office, which was the site of the original Fort William where the Black Hole of Calcutta was located. In 1756 the locals rebelled against the British and sacked the fort. They put the people they captured into a small guard room (the Black Hole) overnight and reportedly 123 of the 146 prisonners died of heat exhaustion, suffocation or trampling. There are few accounts of the event and the actual number of deaths, or if it occurred at all, have been questioned by historians.
After wondering around BBD Bagh, we cut through part of the Maiden and on to the Museum, which claimed to have the 'greatest collection of fossils in the world' however I think the collection of dinosaur bones at the Western Wyoming Community College may have it beat. We wondered the museum a bit and then went in search of lunch and decided to try McDonalds before we left India. The veggie burger was pretty miserable and everyone that ate there was sick later, so it may have given us food poisoning as well.

My last stop was the Victoria Memorial, which is an impressive building and museum with a collection of artwork depicting scenes in India as well as a section on the history of Kolkata from the East India Company's arrival, development of Indian Intellects/Philosophy, Press and Independance movement. However, getting inside was an ordeal. I initially entered the gardens from the east and found the entrance was not on that side of the building tried the south side and was directed to the north side. When I got to the entrance I was then directed back out of the grounds to the north gate to buy a ticket. I was sweating buckets in the 105 degree heat and humidity, and found an Indian style queue at the ticket booth where, despite around 50 people waiting for tickets, only one window was open. Around the window, two lines had formed the led into a mob at the window. I applaude the Indians that were actually waiting in line, and I joined them. Meanwhile others were walking right past the lines to enter the mob at the window that somehow thought they were above waiting. When the line approached the mob, I tapped a few of them on the shoulder and told them to get in line, but they conveniently couldn't understand English. To top it off, my ticket cost 15 times more than the ticket for Indians, but it didn't get me any perks, like a seperate line for westerners, which would have been nice. Did I mention I was getting tired of India at this point? Anyway, I wondered the Memorial until it closed, then hustled back to the hotel for quick goodbyes with the few people from the tour that were still in town and headed for the bus depot to catch my night bus to Darjeeling.