So, I've just managed to post 2 items about the first part of my safari that happened one month ago. The other parts will eventually follow, hopefully before I get back home in October :-) By the way, I've completely given up on even trying to upload pictures, it's just too slow and frustrating. You'll have to wait until I get home to see all my pictures starting from China all the way through Africa.
I'm now heading to my final destination in Africa: Egypt! I'm flying into Cairo today and will spend the next 3 weeks visiting Egypt and maybe Jordan before meeting Johanne in Turkey for the last month of my trip. I'm enjoying my last few weeks to the fullest, but am now really starting to look forward to coming home and seeing all my friends and family. I can't wait!!!
Again, read the posts in the opposite order if you want to get the right sequence. Bye for now.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Safari part 1 - Kruger National Park
The 2-week safari I'd booked was in actual fact a combination of 3 different tours. A sort of 'a la carte' safari that meant I wouldn't be with the same group over the next 2 weeks. The first group was on the smallish side, with just Phil the Aussie, Monia the Italian and myself. We started off a bit weary after our late night expedition, but there was a lot of driving involved in the first day, so plenty of time to rest in the van...
The weather was crappy, so much so that we skipped out on viewing "God's window", since visibility wasn't good enough to see it. Since I've no idea what "God's window" is, I've no idea if I should have been disappointed or not. We did stop along the way at Blyde River Canyon, which had pretty amazing scenery, so I was happy.
After a longer than expected (expected by me, anyways) drive, we finally arrived at the tribal village that would be our stop for the night. As I got out of the van, I was hoping that the bored looking people dressed in skimpy tribal outfits weren't there to great us, but no such luck. They were. I was horrified when these very bored looking people started singing to our tiny little group as we approached the entrance. No eye-contact, no smiling, just some unenthusiastic singing on their part. How awkward.
Things didn't immediately get better as we were shown around the village by a young man claiming to be the tribe leader's grandchild. He explained to us some of the tribe's traditions and how they lived. He brought us around the different buildings and would occasionally call upon a tired and put-out looking woman to show us some of the daily chores like the grinding of maize or making grass mats. Oouf. I'd seen enough of this 'in real life' to feel how fake this was. I know I sound like I'm complaining, but I've been brought on tours to see 'traditional village life' enough times to last me a lifetime on this trip. Definitely not my favorite.
Things did get a bit better after dinner, when the village boys were called around the bonfire to dance for us. The reason it was better was because the boys finally looked like they were having fun, and weren't so much dancing for us as they were for themselves. We later found out they hadn't danced together for a while, so they really were having genuine fun. Of course, all 3 of us had to join in and dance a little, which was fine, but things got dicey when we were asked to sign a song from our country. Phil started us off with the Aussie classic 'Waltzing Mathilda', but was soon thrown off by the fact that the boys knew the words to the song. Pretty funny. I of course couldn't think of a single Canadian song I could sing and I certainly wasn't about to start belting out a Celine tune, was I? I decided to go with 'Frere Jacques', which yes, I know is not Canadian per se, so sue me. At least I knew it would be a laugh to hear the boys sing the same tune in their own language, cause of course 'Frere Jacques' is translated in every language known to man. I wasn't disappointed.
By 8 o'clock that night, every single person in the village was in bed except our tiny little group of 3. I managed to stretch the evening out until 10PM (woohoo) by chatting and staring at the slowly diminishing camp fire, before going to sleep in my mummy sleeping bag on what would be the first of many early nights of camping.
We woke up bright and early (or should I say dark and early) the next morning to head out to Kruger for our very first game drive. I'd slept well enough, if a bit uncomfortable in my mummy sleeping bag, not realising that you weren't supposed to try to turn around IN the sleeping bag but WITH it. Lesson learned. There was also evidence of a creature (most probably a rat) having visited us during the night, since Phil's cough drops were no longer in his pocket but now lay near my sleeping bag in a tattered chewed up mess. Lovely.
Once at Kruger, we met 3 more people who'd started their safari the day before, so our group was now doubled from 3 to 6. One of the girls warned us that it might be *ahem* a tad cold on the truck, so be prepared. Understatement of the year. Have you ever been sitting on an open vehicle going 50 km/h when it was 5C outside? It may not sound like much, but remember, this is Africa, not Canada, where I would be appropriately dressed. I was wearing all of my layers plus the new fleece I'd bought (thank god), a scarf and wrapped in 2 blankets and still I froze. I spent the morning alternating between states of frozen misery and absolute wonderment at what I saw.
Setting aside the weather for a minute (did I mention it also rained a little? While sitting on an open truck?), it was pretty freaking cool to be there on a safari in South Africa's biggest game reserve. Between the time we left at around 6:30 AM and breakfast a few hours later, I saw: guinea fowls, water bucks, hyenas, impalas, giraffes (yay!), buffalo's, zebras, elephants (yay again!) and vultures. A bit later on in the day, and you can add to that list hippos, crocs, kudzu, bush bucks, a white rhino (sort of. even with binoculars, it was only a black spot on the horizon), warthogs, a wild cat and a baby zebra less than a few hours old.
After the first full day of game drives on safari, I've discovered that it's much like I imagine fishing to be. You sit around waiting and doing nothing much for many hours and have brief moments of excitement along the way. OK, the major difference between fishing and a game drive is that there aren't any beers on the truck, those only come after.
The moments of excitement for that day: watching a herd of elephants cross the road in front of our truck, seeing tons of giraffes, graceful yet geeky all at once, and seeing vultures pick off the rest of a lions meal. And the quiet moments were very 'zen' like for me. Very relaxing and peaceful, with lots of time for thinking and just taking it all in. If I could have recorded my thoughts during those quiet hours, my blog would now be a 500-page novel.
Another evening spent by the campfire before settling into our freezing tents for the night. I slept fully clothes, with jeans and all of my layers, but stupidly used the blanket provided to me as a pillow. I really can be dumb sometimes. :-(
The next few days were very much similar, but in a very good way. We were on a hunt for lions and leopards, and were halfway successful. We saw a lion walking around, looking for prey to stalk, and later saw 3 lions resting after having gorged themselves on a poor unsuspecting zebra. Lots more animal watching (love those giraffe and elephants!), taking pictures and daydreaming the rest of the time. The camping was comfortable, regardless of the weather, and the food was very good considering this was a budget safari.
The weather was crappy, so much so that we skipped out on viewing "God's window", since visibility wasn't good enough to see it. Since I've no idea what "God's window" is, I've no idea if I should have been disappointed or not. We did stop along the way at Blyde River Canyon, which had pretty amazing scenery, so I was happy.
After a longer than expected (expected by me, anyways) drive, we finally arrived at the tribal village that would be our stop for the night. As I got out of the van, I was hoping that the bored looking people dressed in skimpy tribal outfits weren't there to great us, but no such luck. They were. I was horrified when these very bored looking people started singing to our tiny little group as we approached the entrance. No eye-contact, no smiling, just some unenthusiastic singing on their part. How awkward.
Things didn't immediately get better as we were shown around the village by a young man claiming to be the tribe leader's grandchild. He explained to us some of the tribe's traditions and how they lived. He brought us around the different buildings and would occasionally call upon a tired and put-out looking woman to show us some of the daily chores like the grinding of maize or making grass mats. Oouf. I'd seen enough of this 'in real life' to feel how fake this was. I know I sound like I'm complaining, but I've been brought on tours to see 'traditional village life' enough times to last me a lifetime on this trip. Definitely not my favorite.
Things did get a bit better after dinner, when the village boys were called around the bonfire to dance for us. The reason it was better was because the boys finally looked like they were having fun, and weren't so much dancing for us as they were for themselves. We later found out they hadn't danced together for a while, so they really were having genuine fun. Of course, all 3 of us had to join in and dance a little, which was fine, but things got dicey when we were asked to sign a song from our country. Phil started us off with the Aussie classic 'Waltzing Mathilda', but was soon thrown off by the fact that the boys knew the words to the song. Pretty funny. I of course couldn't think of a single Canadian song I could sing and I certainly wasn't about to start belting out a Celine tune, was I? I decided to go with 'Frere Jacques', which yes, I know is not Canadian per se, so sue me. At least I knew it would be a laugh to hear the boys sing the same tune in their own language, cause of course 'Frere Jacques' is translated in every language known to man. I wasn't disappointed.
By 8 o'clock that night, every single person in the village was in bed except our tiny little group of 3. I managed to stretch the evening out until 10PM (woohoo) by chatting and staring at the slowly diminishing camp fire, before going to sleep in my mummy sleeping bag on what would be the first of many early nights of camping.
We woke up bright and early (or should I say dark and early) the next morning to head out to Kruger for our very first game drive. I'd slept well enough, if a bit uncomfortable in my mummy sleeping bag, not realising that you weren't supposed to try to turn around IN the sleeping bag but WITH it. Lesson learned. There was also evidence of a creature (most probably a rat) having visited us during the night, since Phil's cough drops were no longer in his pocket but now lay near my sleeping bag in a tattered chewed up mess. Lovely.
Once at Kruger, we met 3 more people who'd started their safari the day before, so our group was now doubled from 3 to 6. One of the girls warned us that it might be *ahem* a tad cold on the truck, so be prepared. Understatement of the year. Have you ever been sitting on an open vehicle going 50 km/h when it was 5C outside? It may not sound like much, but remember, this is Africa, not Canada, where I would be appropriately dressed. I was wearing all of my layers plus the new fleece I'd bought (thank god), a scarf and wrapped in 2 blankets and still I froze. I spent the morning alternating between states of frozen misery and absolute wonderment at what I saw.
Setting aside the weather for a minute (did I mention it also rained a little? While sitting on an open truck?), it was pretty freaking cool to be there on a safari in South Africa's biggest game reserve. Between the time we left at around 6:30 AM and breakfast a few hours later, I saw: guinea fowls, water bucks, hyenas, impalas, giraffes (yay!), buffalo's, zebras, elephants (yay again!) and vultures. A bit later on in the day, and you can add to that list hippos, crocs, kudzu, bush bucks, a white rhino (sort of. even with binoculars, it was only a black spot on the horizon), warthogs, a wild cat and a baby zebra less than a few hours old.
After the first full day of game drives on safari, I've discovered that it's much like I imagine fishing to be. You sit around waiting and doing nothing much for many hours and have brief moments of excitement along the way. OK, the major difference between fishing and a game drive is that there aren't any beers on the truck, those only come after.
The moments of excitement for that day: watching a herd of elephants cross the road in front of our truck, seeing tons of giraffes, graceful yet geeky all at once, and seeing vultures pick off the rest of a lions meal. And the quiet moments were very 'zen' like for me. Very relaxing and peaceful, with lots of time for thinking and just taking it all in. If I could have recorded my thoughts during those quiet hours, my blog would now be a 500-page novel.
Another evening spent by the campfire before settling into our freezing tents for the night. I slept fully clothes, with jeans and all of my layers, but stupidly used the blanket provided to me as a pillow. I really can be dumb sometimes. :-(
The next few days were very much similar, but in a very good way. We were on a hunt for lions and leopards, and were halfway successful. We saw a lion walking around, looking for prey to stalk, and later saw 3 lions resting after having gorged themselves on a poor unsuspecting zebra. Lots more animal watching (love those giraffe and elephants!), taking pictures and daydreaming the rest of the time. The camping was comfortable, regardless of the weather, and the food was very good considering this was a budget safari.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Safari prep
When I first 'planned' (I use the term very loosely) the Africa part of my journey with Melissa, we'd decided on doing at least 1 safari, if not 2, during our 2 trip. The first one that caught my eye was a safari that went from South Africa, in Kruger National Park, all the way to Zambia at Victoria Falls. By the time I got my act together and tried to book the safari, the 7-day trip was not an option, so I threw all budget thoughts out the window and booked the 14-day trip instead. It was basically the same trip, with the added bonus of going to the Okavango Delta in Botswana. Sounded good to me.
My safari would begin on the Saturday from Nelspruit, South Africa. I arrived there from Swaziland on Thursday morning and was set up in an empty dorm room in a quiet looking hostel. I went shopping that afternoon for some last minute safari stuff (ex: sunglasses-mine are broken, extra batteries for my camera-too cheap to buy an adapter for my charger so they hadn't been charged in a while, baby/face wipes-invaluable when you can't shower on a regular basis). I came back later that day to a now busier dorm and met up with 2 Dutch sisters I'd already met in St. Lucia, an Aussie guy who just happened to be booked on the same Kruger safari as me, and a slightly annoying American man who kept asking pushy questions about politics.
More 'chores' the next day, including a 5-hour blog updating marathon and some more last minute shopping. I initially went shopping with the intention of buying a few summer type items like shorts and a t-shirt or 2 (mine are now too big-yay! and very decrepit-boo!), but was quickly brought back to reality once I got to the stores. Ever try buying summer clothes in winter in Canada? Well, the same thing applies in South Africa, even if winter here isn't as harsh. Tuques (woolly hats for the non-Canadians out there), winter jackets, gloves, fleeces, all these were easy to find. It's amazing that they sell basically the same winter clothes in South Africa than in Canada, minus the winter boots and the jackets don't look so much like the Michelin man over here.
The winter days in South Africa have been pretty amazing, with sunny daytime temperatures ranging from 15-25 C. The nights, as I believe I've mentioned before (and most probably will mention many many times again), are freaking cold. Nothing compared to our winter you might say, but I still manage to freeze my ass off cause I insist on wearing flip-flops and still only have my disgusting grey-now-turning-slightly-pink hoodie with me. I FINALLY caved on that final day before my safari and bought myself a fleece. I was all set for camping!
That night, a small group of us from the hostel decided to go out to see what Nelspruit's nightlife had to offer. We were guided on our expedition by JP, the guy working at the backpackers that night. It ended up being a very surreal experience and felt like the wildlife-viewing part of the safari had started early...
The first stop was at the Irish pub down the street. Standard fare, quiet crowd, not an Irish person in sight ;-) We then went off to a place called 'The Barn', but not before JP gave us stern warnings to 'stick with him' and try not to attract too much attention. I took all of this in with a grain of salt, another seemingly paranoid warning from local maybe? But once we got there, it was a sight to behold: The place literally looks like a barn and upon entering, we were greeted by the sight of 20 or so Afrikaans couples (white South Africans) dancing together 'cowboy style' to a Bryan Adams song. Talk about surreal. I felt like I'd been transported right into a barn dance in America's Bible-belt, or how I'd imagine it to be, since I've never been there (nor do I have plans on going any time soon).
From the warnings that JP had given us, I wouldn't have been surprised if someone from our group got their asses kicked before the night was over. One of the joys of traveling on your own is meeting different people, and this night was no exception. These people were 'different'. There was an over-the-top Frenchman who'd spent so many months mute because he doesn't speak English very well that I think he was now a bit 'loco', if you know what I mean (we hadn't even gotten into the supposedly 'dangerous' club and he was already mooning people in the parking lot). Then there was the very flamboyantly gay American who was dancing like a madman amongst the Afrikaans cowboys and his very blond and bubbly English med student friend. Rounding out our group was the Aussie, who appeared fairly normal ;-) Luckily, no one got their asses handed to them that night, but we did pick up a stray along the way. JP overheard some guys talking about beating the crap out of some guy who was a 'Fall Out Boy' lookalike, so he grabbed the guy and lead us back to 'safety'. I still don't know if it was real or paranoia on JP's part (he himself was a bit bizarre if you ask me), but it was an interesting start to my 'safari' time for sure.
My safari would begin on the Saturday from Nelspruit, South Africa. I arrived there from Swaziland on Thursday morning and was set up in an empty dorm room in a quiet looking hostel. I went shopping that afternoon for some last minute safari stuff (ex: sunglasses-mine are broken, extra batteries for my camera-too cheap to buy an adapter for my charger so they hadn't been charged in a while, baby/face wipes-invaluable when you can't shower on a regular basis). I came back later that day to a now busier dorm and met up with 2 Dutch sisters I'd already met in St. Lucia, an Aussie guy who just happened to be booked on the same Kruger safari as me, and a slightly annoying American man who kept asking pushy questions about politics.
More 'chores' the next day, including a 5-hour blog updating marathon and some more last minute shopping. I initially went shopping with the intention of buying a few summer type items like shorts and a t-shirt or 2 (mine are now too big-yay! and very decrepit-boo!), but was quickly brought back to reality once I got to the stores. Ever try buying summer clothes in winter in Canada? Well, the same thing applies in South Africa, even if winter here isn't as harsh. Tuques (woolly hats for the non-Canadians out there), winter jackets, gloves, fleeces, all these were easy to find. It's amazing that they sell basically the same winter clothes in South Africa than in Canada, minus the winter boots and the jackets don't look so much like the Michelin man over here.
The winter days in South Africa have been pretty amazing, with sunny daytime temperatures ranging from 15-25 C. The nights, as I believe I've mentioned before (and most probably will mention many many times again), are freaking cold. Nothing compared to our winter you might say, but I still manage to freeze my ass off cause I insist on wearing flip-flops and still only have my disgusting grey-now-turning-slightly-pink hoodie with me. I FINALLY caved on that final day before my safari and bought myself a fleece. I was all set for camping!
That night, a small group of us from the hostel decided to go out to see what Nelspruit's nightlife had to offer. We were guided on our expedition by JP, the guy working at the backpackers that night. It ended up being a very surreal experience and felt like the wildlife-viewing part of the safari had started early...
The first stop was at the Irish pub down the street. Standard fare, quiet crowd, not an Irish person in sight ;-) We then went off to a place called 'The Barn', but not before JP gave us stern warnings to 'stick with him' and try not to attract too much attention. I took all of this in with a grain of salt, another seemingly paranoid warning from local maybe? But once we got there, it was a sight to behold: The place literally looks like a barn and upon entering, we were greeted by the sight of 20 or so Afrikaans couples (white South Africans) dancing together 'cowboy style' to a Bryan Adams song. Talk about surreal. I felt like I'd been transported right into a barn dance in America's Bible-belt, or how I'd imagine it to be, since I've never been there (nor do I have plans on going any time soon).
From the warnings that JP had given us, I wouldn't have been surprised if someone from our group got their asses kicked before the night was over. One of the joys of traveling on your own is meeting different people, and this night was no exception. These people were 'different'. There was an over-the-top Frenchman who'd spent so many months mute because he doesn't speak English very well that I think he was now a bit 'loco', if you know what I mean (we hadn't even gotten into the supposedly 'dangerous' club and he was already mooning people in the parking lot). Then there was the very flamboyantly gay American who was dancing like a madman amongst the Afrikaans cowboys and his very blond and bubbly English med student friend. Rounding out our group was the Aussie, who appeared fairly normal ;-) Luckily, no one got their asses handed to them that night, but we did pick up a stray along the way. JP overheard some guys talking about beating the crap out of some guy who was a 'Fall Out Boy' lookalike, so he grabbed the guy and lead us back to 'safety'. I still don't know if it was real or paranoia on JP's part (he himself was a bit bizarre if you ask me), but it was an interesting start to my 'safari' time for sure.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Quick update
Hi all,
Just to let you know that yes, I'm still alive, and am enjoying myself in Africa. Since I last posted, I've been through Botswana, Zambia, Malawi and am now in Tanzania. I have a ton of updates to the blog to do, but Internet has up until now been frustratingly expensive (in Zambia), unavailable (Botswana) or too slow (Malawi).
I'll try to update you soon! I hope you're enjoying the last month of summer back at home, even if it's been crappy I hear...
Bye for now
Just to let you know that yes, I'm still alive, and am enjoying myself in Africa. Since I last posted, I've been through Botswana, Zambia, Malawi and am now in Tanzania. I have a ton of updates to the blog to do, but Internet has up until now been frustratingly expensive (in Zambia), unavailable (Botswana) or too slow (Malawi).
I'll try to update you soon! I hope you're enjoying the last month of summer back at home, even if it's been crappy I hear...
Bye for now
Friday, July 11, 2008
Safari time!!!
Listen up friends and family! I've just made a monumental effort and posted 3 different items about my time in South Africa so far. Make sure you read them in order...
I'm still not quite up-to-date, I still have the last week or so to blog about. I'm off tomorrow morning on a 2-week safari that takes me into South Africa's Kruger National Park (cross my fingers that I'll see lions, leopards and giraffes), Botswana's Okavango Delta and Chobe National Park and finally Victoria Falls, on the Zambia side. It should be very cool, so hopefully I'll have some amazing pictures to show you some day...
In the meantime, enjoy the beautiful summer days in Montreal, or wherever in the World you are!
I'm still not quite up-to-date, I still have the last week or so to blog about. I'm off tomorrow morning on a 2-week safari that takes me into South Africa's Kruger National Park (cross my fingers that I'll see lions, leopards and giraffes), Botswana's Okavango Delta and Chobe National Park and finally Victoria Falls, on the Zambia side. It should be very cool, so hopefully I'll have some amazing pictures to show you some day...
In the meantime, enjoy the beautiful summer days in Montreal, or wherever in the World you are!
Vacation time!!!
While in Storms River, Mairead raved about a place called Port St. Johns, a place she'd gone to 3 times already and spent 11 weeks earlier this year. Since my time was my own and I had no plans per se, I decided to join her there in time for her favorite backpackers' 3rd year anniversary. We booked ourselves onto the Baz Bus (a hop-on, hop-off backpacker bus), as all the other 'normal' buses were sold out and wouldn't allow us to get to Port St. Johns in time for the party. We had a 1 night pit-stop in Port Elizabeth (uneventful) and rode the bus the next day to get to PSJ.
This place is fairly remote, 1.5 hours away from the largest town in the area called Mthatha. It's in a region called the Transkei, which interestingly enough is the birthplace of Nelson Mandela and was its own country during the apartheid era (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transkei). Just the journey to PSJ was amazing to me and somehow felt like the 'Africa' I'd imagined before I arrived in South Africa. Mairead and I took a minibus taxi/shuttle from Mthatha, and while we were the only 2 passengers to start off with, we kept picking-up and dropping off people along the way. Very Asia-like, all packed in the minibus, but with the major difference of having dark faces and beautiful smiles. I loved it already!
Once in PSJ at the Jungle Monkey, I was horrified to learn that it was a 'dress' party for Friday the 13th that night ('dress' party meaning costume party for us North Americans). Yuck. At best of times, with all sorts of stuff at my disposal to dress up, I would find a way to get out of a costume party. But with just a backpack full of ratty clothes I've been wearing since October? Like I said, Yuck. But I was here to have fun if it killed me, so I made an effort. Mairead knew a lot of people there already from her previous stays, and I met one of the managers/owners daughter within minutes of our arrival. A very lovely girl, Angelea organised both Mairead and I's 'costumes' and did my hair and make-up. Mine was to be the 'morning after' look, wearing pyjamas, smudged make-up and freaky hair.
I have to say, it's a good thing I was there with a friend, cause had I been on my own, I'd have probably hid in my room for the night. It was a crazy party, with literally hundreds of people around, mostly all drunk. Plus, there was a bit of drama as some guy was caught stealing from tents and the dorm, and as per the South African way, the guys who caught him were trying to bash his head in... My stay in PSJ was off to an exciting start, that's for sure.
I obviously wasn't scared off too much, since I did end up spending a total of 3 weeks there, more than any other place on my trip so far. What did I do while there, you ask? Nothing much, I say. It was a weird time of sleeping until noon, lazing around in the afternoons, having dinner and then dancing/drinking/chatting at the bar all night. Literally all night, as I'd go to bed anywhere from 2AM to 8AM most days, with an exceptionally late/early day of going to bed at 2PM in the afternoon!
It wasn't all drunken debauchery though, I did get in some of the most amazing scenery while in the area. The Jungle Monkey crew would every once in a while bring people around to see some of the area, with a barge trip down the river, trips to a nearby airstrip up top a mountain that overlooks the whole area, trips to the beach, mini-hikes to a blowhole and trips to a shebeen (informal bar in the 'townships' of South Africa). It really is a beautiful place, and regardless of the drama of my first night there, I always felt safe.
Another trip I took while there was an overnighter to a traditional Xhosa village. The initial draw was to see the mighty Magwa Falls, a beautiful waterfall that would be overflowing after the couple of days of rain we'd just had. Because of my night owl schedule, it was a very hard thing for me to get up at 7 AM to meet the group to leave for Magwa Falls, but boy am I glad I did. We bought food at the supermarket, used minibus taxis to get to the village and started wandering around. Louie, the guy who organises these trips, is actually building his own traditional house in the village, so it didn't feel as much like an intrusion as in some villages I'd been to before. The waterfall was spectacular (you'll see eventually when I post photos), but the highlight was visiting the children at school, having them sing and dance for us, then having a traditional meal of pap and veg by the fire. More kids came by the fire that night to sing and dance some more. Amazing. The Xhosa people are very friendly, if a bit shy, and have THE most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. I felt energised by the trip, that's for sure.
After 2 weeks of 'relaxing' in PSJ, I was slowly getting ready to move on. Because there was no Internet at the Jungle Monkey, I'd been out of touch for awhile and only found out a week and a half into my stay that Visa had been trying to reach me about some fraudulent transactions on my credit card. Long story short, my credit card was somehow cloned and had about 10 ooo$ worth of transactions on it for the past 2 weeks. Visa was great in that all the transactions were cancelled, but I still had to wait to receive a new credit card. Because I was in such a remote area, it started out that I'd have it in 3-4 business days, then 5, then finally 6. This is basically the reason I ended up staying a 3rd week at the Jungle Monkey, but honestly, it wasn't a chore...
This place is fairly remote, 1.5 hours away from the largest town in the area called Mthatha. It's in a region called the Transkei, which interestingly enough is the birthplace of Nelson Mandela and was its own country during the apartheid era (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transkei). Just the journey to PSJ was amazing to me and somehow felt like the 'Africa' I'd imagined before I arrived in South Africa. Mairead and I took a minibus taxi/shuttle from Mthatha, and while we were the only 2 passengers to start off with, we kept picking-up and dropping off people along the way. Very Asia-like, all packed in the minibus, but with the major difference of having dark faces and beautiful smiles. I loved it already!
Once in PSJ at the Jungle Monkey, I was horrified to learn that it was a 'dress' party for Friday the 13th that night ('dress' party meaning costume party for us North Americans). Yuck. At best of times, with all sorts of stuff at my disposal to dress up, I would find a way to get out of a costume party. But with just a backpack full of ratty clothes I've been wearing since October? Like I said, Yuck. But I was here to have fun if it killed me, so I made an effort. Mairead knew a lot of people there already from her previous stays, and I met one of the managers/owners daughter within minutes of our arrival. A very lovely girl, Angelea organised both Mairead and I's 'costumes' and did my hair and make-up. Mine was to be the 'morning after' look, wearing pyjamas, smudged make-up and freaky hair.
I have to say, it's a good thing I was there with a friend, cause had I been on my own, I'd have probably hid in my room for the night. It was a crazy party, with literally hundreds of people around, mostly all drunk. Plus, there was a bit of drama as some guy was caught stealing from tents and the dorm, and as per the South African way, the guys who caught him were trying to bash his head in... My stay in PSJ was off to an exciting start, that's for sure.
I obviously wasn't scared off too much, since I did end up spending a total of 3 weeks there, more than any other place on my trip so far. What did I do while there, you ask? Nothing much, I say. It was a weird time of sleeping until noon, lazing around in the afternoons, having dinner and then dancing/drinking/chatting at the bar all night. Literally all night, as I'd go to bed anywhere from 2AM to 8AM most days, with an exceptionally late/early day of going to bed at 2PM in the afternoon!
It wasn't all drunken debauchery though, I did get in some of the most amazing scenery while in the area. The Jungle Monkey crew would every once in a while bring people around to see some of the area, with a barge trip down the river, trips to a nearby airstrip up top a mountain that overlooks the whole area, trips to the beach, mini-hikes to a blowhole and trips to a shebeen (informal bar in the 'townships' of South Africa). It really is a beautiful place, and regardless of the drama of my first night there, I always felt safe.
Another trip I took while there was an overnighter to a traditional Xhosa village. The initial draw was to see the mighty Magwa Falls, a beautiful waterfall that would be overflowing after the couple of days of rain we'd just had. Because of my night owl schedule, it was a very hard thing for me to get up at 7 AM to meet the group to leave for Magwa Falls, but boy am I glad I did. We bought food at the supermarket, used minibus taxis to get to the village and started wandering around. Louie, the guy who organises these trips, is actually building his own traditional house in the village, so it didn't feel as much like an intrusion as in some villages I'd been to before. The waterfall was spectacular (you'll see eventually when I post photos), but the highlight was visiting the children at school, having them sing and dance for us, then having a traditional meal of pap and veg by the fire. More kids came by the fire that night to sing and dance some more. Amazing. The Xhosa people are very friendly, if a bit shy, and have THE most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. I felt energised by the trip, that's for sure.
After 2 weeks of 'relaxing' in PSJ, I was slowly getting ready to move on. Because there was no Internet at the Jungle Monkey, I'd been out of touch for awhile and only found out a week and a half into my stay that Visa had been trying to reach me about some fraudulent transactions on my credit card. Long story short, my credit card was somehow cloned and had about 10 ooo$ worth of transactions on it for the past 2 weeks. Visa was great in that all the transactions were cancelled, but I still had to wait to receive a new credit card. Because I was in such a remote area, it started out that I'd have it in 3-4 business days, then 5, then finally 6. This is basically the reason I ended up staying a 3rd week at the Jungle Monkey, but honestly, it wasn't a chore...
Adventureland continued...
After our 2 days in Hermanus, Melissa and I then stopped in very quiet little towns along the Garden Route, the first called Swellendam and the other called Knysna. Beautiful places, both of them, but very very quiet. We were 2 of 6 guests at the backpackers in Swellendam and the only 2 guest at the one in Knysna. The highlights of my time there: a nice hike to a dried up waterfall in the forest near Swellendam and a cruise around the harbour in Knysna. Knysna is also where Melissa and I parted ways. She desperately wanted to go back to Hermanus (her story to tell, not mine), so we went our separate ways after 10 days of travelling together. I was back to my solo-traveling ways.
I went off to Storms River, home of the world's highest commercial bungee jump at 216 meters. The only reason for me stopping there was to watch the bungee jump, not do it. As I've said before, it's just not my thing. It so happened that a Canadian girl arrived the following morning to do the jump, so I was joined by Mairead, a lovely Irish girl I'd previously met on the bus to/from Hermanus, to watch her jump. We payed an extra 50 rand (approx. 7$) to walk under the bridge and watch from the platform. Now honestly, the walk to the platform was scary enough for me, as it's done on a wobbly grill and you can see straight down to the valley/river below. I made it to the jump site without looking down once. Once there, it was thrilling to see how the jumpers reacted before and after their jumps. Lots of adrenaline, for sure.
While there, the bungee crew were working hard on getting Mairead and I (i.e. the watchers) to do the jump. Actually, they didn't waste a lot of time on me, since I looked very determined that I wouldn't be jumping. But Mairead was wavering between doing it and not. Long story short (actually, a very loooong story ;-) ), she decided to do it, then spent about 20 minutes on the edge of the platform trying to jump, while constantly being reassured by the excellent crew that she could do it. She finally gave up and we walked off the bridge. At the edge of the bridge, we met 2 English lads who had bet on her jumping or not. Nicely enough, both guys, including the one who had bet against her jumping, convinced Mairead to join them and try again. So back under the bridge we went, and this time she jumped (helpfully shoved by the crew) without hesitation. It was amazing to see her overcome her fears.
The next day, I went on my own version of an adventure activity, a zip line tour above a waterfall in the Tsitsikamma National Park. There are 8 zip lines to cross in all, and the first couple of them were a bit scary, getting the hang of it and feeling confident that the damn things will be able to hold me up :-) But all in all, it was a fun thing to do, but not very adrenaline-inducing. The scenery was nice, what I actually got to see of it. You see, the guide would tell us for some of the zip lines where we should start braking. For example, start braking when you get to that big tree over there. So what would I do? Just focus on the tree and nothing else. Didn't see much of the scenery on those lines...
After the waterfall zip line tour, I headed out yet again to the bungee jump. This time to watch 2 other guys from my hostel who were doing it. Noticing a trend yet? This was now the 4th time in my trip (twice in NZ, twice in SA) that I've watched others do the bungee jump. And of course, on my last day in Storms River, sitting in the sun just hanging around and waiting for my bus to bring me to my next destination, I started regretting not doing it. Somewhere along the line, the bungee jump has become something of a symbol to me, overcoming fears, yes, but more than that, proving that it isn't too late for me to 'live' a little. Do something adventurous, exciting. Things I didn't do in my 20's and have thought I'd never get around to doing. Now don't get me wrong, it's not like I think 37 is old, but still, not being fit for most of my life has left me with a body that does feel older than my age most of the time. I left Storms River with a definite sense of disappointment. Hopefully, next time I come across a bungee jump, I won't hesitate & I'll just do it.
I went off to Storms River, home of the world's highest commercial bungee jump at 216 meters. The only reason for me stopping there was to watch the bungee jump, not do it. As I've said before, it's just not my thing. It so happened that a Canadian girl arrived the following morning to do the jump, so I was joined by Mairead, a lovely Irish girl I'd previously met on the bus to/from Hermanus, to watch her jump. We payed an extra 50 rand (approx. 7$) to walk under the bridge and watch from the platform. Now honestly, the walk to the platform was scary enough for me, as it's done on a wobbly grill and you can see straight down to the valley/river below. I made it to the jump site without looking down once. Once there, it was thrilling to see how the jumpers reacted before and after their jumps. Lots of adrenaline, for sure.
While there, the bungee crew were working hard on getting Mairead and I (i.e. the watchers) to do the jump. Actually, they didn't waste a lot of time on me, since I looked very determined that I wouldn't be jumping. But Mairead was wavering between doing it and not. Long story short (actually, a very loooong story ;-) ), she decided to do it, then spent about 20 minutes on the edge of the platform trying to jump, while constantly being reassured by the excellent crew that she could do it. She finally gave up and we walked off the bridge. At the edge of the bridge, we met 2 English lads who had bet on her jumping or not. Nicely enough, both guys, including the one who had bet against her jumping, convinced Mairead to join them and try again. So back under the bridge we went, and this time she jumped (helpfully shoved by the crew) without hesitation. It was amazing to see her overcome her fears.
The next day, I went on my own version of an adventure activity, a zip line tour above a waterfall in the Tsitsikamma National Park. There are 8 zip lines to cross in all, and the first couple of them were a bit scary, getting the hang of it and feeling confident that the damn things will be able to hold me up :-) But all in all, it was a fun thing to do, but not very adrenaline-inducing. The scenery was nice, what I actually got to see of it. You see, the guide would tell us for some of the zip lines where we should start braking. For example, start braking when you get to that big tree over there. So what would I do? Just focus on the tree and nothing else. Didn't see much of the scenery on those lines...
After the waterfall zip line tour, I headed out yet again to the bungee jump. This time to watch 2 other guys from my hostel who were doing it. Noticing a trend yet? This was now the 4th time in my trip (twice in NZ, twice in SA) that I've watched others do the bungee jump. And of course, on my last day in Storms River, sitting in the sun just hanging around and waiting for my bus to bring me to my next destination, I started regretting not doing it. Somewhere along the line, the bungee jump has become something of a symbol to me, overcoming fears, yes, but more than that, proving that it isn't too late for me to 'live' a little. Do something adventurous, exciting. Things I didn't do in my 20's and have thought I'd never get around to doing. Now don't get me wrong, it's not like I think 37 is old, but still, not being fit for most of my life has left me with a body that does feel older than my age most of the time. I left Storms River with a definite sense of disappointment. Hopefully, next time I come across a bungee jump, I won't hesitate & I'll just do it.
Janie in Adventureland
So far, South Africa comes in a close second to New Zealand for being the adventure capital of the world. Tons of adventure activities on offer, but it's all a bit of a waste for the non-adventure type like me, isn't it?
The first time I'd heard about shark diving, I didn't just think 'no', I thought 'Hell no!'. But as Melissa and I started the next leg of our trip down something called the Garden Route (roughly the south coast of South Africa, from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth), more & more people were talking about shark diving and how great it was. We arrived in Hermanus, our first stop after Cape Town, on a rainy cold morning. At this point, I was intrigued by the shark dive so I thought 'what the hell, I'm doing it' and booked myself into the next available trip the following day. Melissa and I spent the rest of the day in lazy style, having a nice lunch in a restaurant by the sea and walking around town, and then a not-so-lazy evening playing drinking games with the gang from the hostel. Ahem, might not have been the best idea to do that before going out to sea shark diving, but live and learn, I say.
Surprisingly enough, I was feeling fine the next morning and the weather was gorgeous, so we were good to go on the shark dive. How it works is like this: we drive to Gansbaai and take a boat out to 'Shark Alley', where more than 80% of all documentaries on Great White sharks are filmed. Winter is the perfect time to see Great White sharks, as the water is cold enough for the sharks and they just hang around near an island covered in seals, their favorite food. Once anchored in 'Shark Alley', a smelly oily mixture is thrown into the water to attract the sharks. Once one is sighted, everyone slips into a wetsuit and waits for their turn in the cage hanging off the side of the boat. Speaking of the cage, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting. I thought it would be completely covered in mesh, totally protected, but no, the metal bars are far enough apart for you to stick out arms, legs and head if you were feeling suicidal...
The water that day was fairly calm, but even so, our guide from the shark diving place warned us that at least some of us would be seasick, there is almost always at least a few. Until we anchored in Shark Alley, I was smugly confident that I wouldn't be one of 'those', since I hadn't ever really been seasick and I'd had a good breakfast that morning (supposedly one of the tricks against being seasick is to have something in your stomach). One of the girls from the hostel who'd also played drinking games the night before was already puking her guts out on the side of the boat before we even anchored, and I was still feeling fine, so all was good. Once the sharks arrived, I 'slipped' into my wetsuit (Huh. Wasn't easy, nor fun) and waited for my turn in the cage. I was in the 2nd group to go in the cage, packed in with 4 other people. The water was pretty cold (13-14C) but no too bad so far. When the crew sighted a shark, they'd yell "Go under! Go under!" and you'd take a deep breath, grab the bars of the cage and go down to see the shark. Crazy, but not as scary as I thought. The first time I went under, I barely lasted 5 seconds. The combination of nerves and cold water made me lose my breath in no time at all, but I got the hang of it after a few tries. The sharks we saw seemed huge to me, but really not aggressive at all. All they seemed interested in was the bait and only got close to the cage when the bait was brought there to attract them. The scariest bit for me was actually when I was floating above water and saw the shark fin floating by. Now that was scary, and all I could hear was the doo-doo, doo-doo, ... of the Jaws theme song.
Halfway through my 1st time in the cage, things went a bit awry for me. We were just bopping up and down in the cage, not having sighted a shark in a few minutes. I was cold and the queasiness I had started to feel instantly turned into full fledged nausea. I had about 30 seconds or so to warn the others stuck in the cage with me that I was about to hurl, and I tried climbing above the bars to puke over the side of the cage. The guy next to me was nice enough to drag me back inside the cage and tell me that maybe it wasn't really a good idea to have body parts hanging outside the cage while adding chum to the water... For lack of a better option, I just went under water to throw up there. Charming, isn't it? Lovely. Throwing up in a cage, stuck with 4 other people while a boat load of people are watching above me. What fun ;-)
By the time my 2nd turn in the cage came around, I could care less about seeing another shark. I was done. Fini. Finito. But still, it was a really great experience and made you realise that sharks aren't that scary... And it did make me a little bit infamous for a while there. The rest of the week, while traveling further down the Garden Route, I kept meeting people who said: "Oh! You're the girl who was sick in the cage while shark diving!" :-)
The first time I'd heard about shark diving, I didn't just think 'no', I thought 'Hell no!'. But as Melissa and I started the next leg of our trip down something called the Garden Route (roughly the south coast of South Africa, from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth), more & more people were talking about shark diving and how great it was. We arrived in Hermanus, our first stop after Cape Town, on a rainy cold morning. At this point, I was intrigued by the shark dive so I thought 'what the hell, I'm doing it' and booked myself into the next available trip the following day. Melissa and I spent the rest of the day in lazy style, having a nice lunch in a restaurant by the sea and walking around town, and then a not-so-lazy evening playing drinking games with the gang from the hostel. Ahem, might not have been the best idea to do that before going out to sea shark diving, but live and learn, I say.
Surprisingly enough, I was feeling fine the next morning and the weather was gorgeous, so we were good to go on the shark dive. How it works is like this: we drive to Gansbaai and take a boat out to 'Shark Alley', where more than 80% of all documentaries on Great White sharks are filmed. Winter is the perfect time to see Great White sharks, as the water is cold enough for the sharks and they just hang around near an island covered in seals, their favorite food. Once anchored in 'Shark Alley', a smelly oily mixture is thrown into the water to attract the sharks. Once one is sighted, everyone slips into a wetsuit and waits for their turn in the cage hanging off the side of the boat. Speaking of the cage, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting. I thought it would be completely covered in mesh, totally protected, but no, the metal bars are far enough apart for you to stick out arms, legs and head if you were feeling suicidal...
The water that day was fairly calm, but even so, our guide from the shark diving place warned us that at least some of us would be seasick, there is almost always at least a few. Until we anchored in Shark Alley, I was smugly confident that I wouldn't be one of 'those', since I hadn't ever really been seasick and I'd had a good breakfast that morning (supposedly one of the tricks against being seasick is to have something in your stomach). One of the girls from the hostel who'd also played drinking games the night before was already puking her guts out on the side of the boat before we even anchored, and I was still feeling fine, so all was good. Once the sharks arrived, I 'slipped' into my wetsuit (Huh. Wasn't easy, nor fun) and waited for my turn in the cage. I was in the 2nd group to go in the cage, packed in with 4 other people. The water was pretty cold (13-14C) but no too bad so far. When the crew sighted a shark, they'd yell "Go under! Go under!" and you'd take a deep breath, grab the bars of the cage and go down to see the shark. Crazy, but not as scary as I thought. The first time I went under, I barely lasted 5 seconds. The combination of nerves and cold water made me lose my breath in no time at all, but I got the hang of it after a few tries. The sharks we saw seemed huge to me, but really not aggressive at all. All they seemed interested in was the bait and only got close to the cage when the bait was brought there to attract them. The scariest bit for me was actually when I was floating above water and saw the shark fin floating by. Now that was scary, and all I could hear was the doo-doo, doo-doo, ... of the Jaws theme song.
Halfway through my 1st time in the cage, things went a bit awry for me. We were just bopping up and down in the cage, not having sighted a shark in a few minutes. I was cold and the queasiness I had started to feel instantly turned into full fledged nausea. I had about 30 seconds or so to warn the others stuck in the cage with me that I was about to hurl, and I tried climbing above the bars to puke over the side of the cage. The guy next to me was nice enough to drag me back inside the cage and tell me that maybe it wasn't really a good idea to have body parts hanging outside the cage while adding chum to the water... For lack of a better option, I just went under water to throw up there. Charming, isn't it? Lovely. Throwing up in a cage, stuck with 4 other people while a boat load of people are watching above me. What fun ;-)
By the time my 2nd turn in the cage came around, I could care less about seeing another shark. I was done. Fini. Finito. But still, it was a really great experience and made you realise that sharks aren't that scary... And it did make me a little bit infamous for a while there. The rest of the week, while traveling further down the Garden Route, I kept meeting people who said: "Oh! You're the girl who was sick in the cage while shark diving!" :-)
Howzit - part 2
OK, so I've been requested to republish this post in the correct order, since it originally showed up after an older message. Got a bit confusing and I'm not sure anyone besides Johanne actually read this thing. I posted it a week or so ago, so I've moved on since then. Watch out for more posts in the next day or so, before I head out on a 2-week safari. Yay!!!
*I'm taking a little time out from my current 'vacation' to finally update my blog a little. I'm amazed that I've been in South Africa a month already. Better update now in case I start forgetting stuff...
My first few days in South Africa were spent in some sort of 'reverse' culture shock. My first impressions were so different from what I was expecting, I realise I was pretty clueless about what South Africa would be like in the first place. The first thing that surprised me was how expensive it was compared to Asia. Now, compared to home, South Africa is still a bargain in many ways (accommodation, some food), but after having spent around 5 months in Asia where everything is dirt cheap, I spent the first week absolutely obsessing about the cost of everything. The other thing that surprised me was that South Africa wasn't at all what I thought 'Africa' would be like. Not all wild nature, safaris and black faces. Lots of cities with rich areas and plenty of white folk around.
The first stop was a short stay near Johannesburg, where I met up with Melissa. It was pretty cool to see her after 7 months away, and I really appreciated the hugs she gave me on behalf of my sisters. Now, for everyone who was worried about us being in Jo'burg (supposedly THE most dangerous city in Africa), we didn't actually stay there. We were staying in a suburb nearby. I'll admit to being intimidated to being in South Africa, especially with all the recent news about the xenophobic attacks happening here. And it didn't help my nerves any when the hostel people urged us not to walk outside at night and also liked to keep track of our whereabouts, even in the daytime. I walked to the grocery store with a young American couple my first day there and I was so stressed and paranoid, I felt I would be mugged at any minute. Thankfully, that feeling has lessened over time. There are still plenty of precautions you need to take and sometimes the advice you get from the locals seem a bit exaggerated (ex: taking a taxi to go 2 blocks at night, don't take the train that arrives in Cape Town at 6:00 PM, take the one that arrives at 5:30 PM at the latest...). It's hard to say if it's all really necessary or if there is a little paranoia involved, but whatever advice we were given, we followed, so no worries.
While near Jo'burg, we visited a lion and rhino park where we did a mini-safari. We were driven around the park trying to spot some animals (we did see an adult male lion, pretty cool) and afterwards were brought to a 'creche', where we could play with lion and tiger cubs. I thought by 'cubs', they meant small little kitty cat sized animals, but no, these cubs were already pretty big at around 4 months old. A little scary to play with, but wow, what an experience. Melissa now has a bite mark on her t-shirt as proof of our thrilling afternoon :-)
We also spent a day visiting the cultural highlights of Jo'burg. We had a driver and guide take us to Soweto, short for South West Townships, where most of Jo'burg's population reside. It was an interesting glimpse into an area that came to exist because of apartheid and how it has changed since the official end it. Our guide explained to us that Soweto is now one of the safest places to be in Jo'burg, with 'rich' and poor living side by side. We followed this up by a trip to the Apartheid museum. Even if I'm not usually a fan of museums, this one was definitely worthwhile and very interesting.
Up next was Cape Town, a city with the most impressive scenery around. The sight of the sea and Table Mountain makes Cape Town a very pretty place to visit. We were lucky enough to have excellent weather the day we went up Table Mountain, so the views were breathtaking. Can't wait to show you all some pictures, but it's going to have to, since the Internet connections here aren't up to it. We capped off our time in Cape Town by visiting Boulders Beach, where a huge penguin colony lives. Penguins, penguins everywhere, we even followed one for a while on the walkway meant for the humans. Melissa got to help a woman who worked there to catch the penguin and put him back on the beach.
That's it for now. I'll post more updates about our shark dive and what I've been up to the past 3 weeks. As of now, I'm still in a small place on the Wild Coast of South Africa called Port St Johns. I've been here already 2.5 weeks and it will have been my longest stay in a single place during all of my trip. I've been having a great time sleeping all day and dancing all night, but am feeling ready to move on again. I'm sort of 'stuck' here for the time being, waiting to receive a new credit card that was shipped to me after mine was duplicated somewhere and used to buy around 10K$ worth of stuff...
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Howzit!!!
A quick hello from South Africa!
It's amazing that it's been more than 2 weeks already since I've arrived here. I've been having an amazing time, maybe a bit too much since I haven't had a lot of time for Internet lately. To make matters worse on the Internet front, the last few places I've stayed didn't have Internet access, so I'm way behind again on both the blog and emails. Too bad, so sad.
I'll hopefully post something later on with a bit more details, but for now, I just wanted to let everyone know that I was safe and sound and having a blast. Quick highlights of what I've been up to: met Melissa, played with lion cubs, visited Soweto & the Apartheid Museum, hiked on Table Mountain in Cape Town, saw yet more penguins, dove with Great White Sharks (!!!), separated from Melissa, chickened out of the longest bungy jump in the world, ziplined over waterfalls and have been having way too much beer ;-) That's it for now!
It's amazing that it's been more than 2 weeks already since I've arrived here. I've been having an amazing time, maybe a bit too much since I haven't had a lot of time for Internet lately. To make matters worse on the Internet front, the last few places I've stayed didn't have Internet access, so I'm way behind again on both the blog and emails. Too bad, so sad.
I'll hopefully post something later on with a bit more details, but for now, I just wanted to let everyone know that I was safe and sound and having a blast. Quick highlights of what I've been up to: met Melissa, played with lion cubs, visited Soweto & the Apartheid Museum, hiked on Table Mountain in Cape Town, saw yet more penguins, dove with Great White Sharks (!!!), separated from Melissa, chickened out of the longest bungy jump in the world, ziplined over waterfalls and have been having way too much beer ;-) That's it for now!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
China wrap-up
(*I've posted 2 entries today. Make sure you read the previous one first)
Beijing was a surprise to me, much more 'Western' than I'd imagined. Maybe it's because I'd had a whole month in China already before arriving there and was now 'used to' China, but Beijing seemed very much like another big city that could have been anywhere. Lots of designer shops, western food and huge shopping malls. That being said, it still was pretty cool to see the city a few months before the Olympics. They are still very much at work getting the place 'spruced up', with tons of renovations and construction going on all around. There are so many flowers and greenery around, that you can *almost* forget that you are choking on smog all day. ;-)
I spent the first 2 days sightseeing with my friend Jennifer, who'd already been in Beijing a while when I got there. We saw the Summer Palace (the highlight was the 'pedalo' around the lake), the Temple of Heaven (lots of Chinese doing ballroom dancing around the park in the morning) and the Olympic Stadium (aka The Bird's Nest). After she left, I spread out my sightseeing over the next few days, visiting Tienanmen Square, the Forbidden City and last but certainly not least, the Great Wall.
I chose to do a 10km hike on the Great Wall, that brought you to a less busy and less restored part of the Wall. I'd heard about this hike from a lot of travellers along the way, with everyone saying that it was a hard day, but definitely worth it. As usual with anything requiring a certain level of fitness and being done in a group, I was nervous about doing it, but thought if I'd managed Mt. Huashan the week before, I could probably handle the Great Wall.
In a group of 20 or so, we were driven more than 3 hours away to the start of our hike of the Great Wall. Just so you know, the Wall is NOT a flat surface. It goes along the tops of hills and valleys, and is separated by towers every few hundred meters or so. It rises and falls before and after each tower and there were 32 towers to cross on our 10km walk. I was completely out of breath, heart pumping away and sweat drenched before even arriving at the first tower. Man, this was going to be hard, I thought. But honestly, once you get into the groove of climbing up a tower, than going down on the other side, it wasn't that bad. It was definitely hard, but I thought it was easier than the constant climbing of steps at Mt. Huashan. A lot of people were passing me on the uphill parts, but then I would pass them as they were taking breaks once up top. I was happily settled somewhere in the middle of our group and really enjoying myself.
At just about the halfway point of our hike, the wall starts sloping downwards a little bit, so the climbing is not as hard but the downhill parts are still very rocky and a bit dangerous. I was merrily walking along on one of the very rare flat surfaces of the Wall when my right ankle twisted a bit and I fell down. Those who know me well know that I ofter fall down, so I didn't think anything of it at first. I started to get up, but felt something wet on my left leg. I lifted up my pant leg to see BLOOD GUSHING OUT OF A HOLE in my knee!!! I stared dumbfounded for a few seconds, watching the blood pour out and puddle on the Wall below me. I couldn't understand it, cause 1) it didn't really hurt 2) I had no clue how it had happened 3) it wasn't a scratch, it was an honest to goodness hole in my knee! After a minute or so, the blood stopped pouring out and it was only just leaking, but I still really didn't know what to do. I just sat there and looked at it.
Finally, a group of French that I'd been passing and being passed by during the first half of the Wall came along and helped me. Out came the antiseptic wipes and tissues, and they did a good job of cleaning my knee up. They looked a bit anxious, and their tour leader ask me if I wanted her to go get my tour leader, but really, there was no point as there was nothing he could do. By this time, the very last person of my group had caught up with me, and it turns out she is a nurse. She supervised a bit more cleaning of the wound, slapped on a few bandaids and helped me up.
I can safely say that the 2nd half of the Wall was all a blur to me. Once I started walking back, the adrenaline left my body and the knee started hurting. I just kept repeating to myself: Keep going, don't stop, keep going, don't stop... At one point, I was at the back of the pack with an English family, with 2 girls in their early 20's. One girl was such a complainer, whinging the whole time, that she actually made me feel better. I was pleased with myself that I was being quite stoic, not like her, I could just hold it in now and complain later on in my blog :-) My little 'accident' also helped me get over my fear of zip lines. At the end of this portion of the Wall, you had a choice of walking another 40 minutes or so, or taking a 30 second zip line across the river. Needless to say, I chose the zip line. I was petrified the whole time, didn't really enjoy it I must admit, but I did it. There, another first for me.
So, like my sister Johanne said when I told her my story, I left my mark on the Great Wall of China that day (in the form of a nice puddle of blood), and gained a new souvenir as well. I just wish my souvenirs would take a different form than scars, I'm getting quite the collection now...
So, that wraps up my time in mainland China. I'm now in Hong Kong, getting ready for my African adventure with Melissa. I've taken it easy the past few days, read through all my Harry Potter books (sniff, sniff), and have had time to update the blog (yay!) and reflect a little bit on my time in China. All in all, China wasn't nearly as hard as I had expected it to be. My favorite part was the Yunnan province in the south, where it was a bit more rural and looked a bit more like what I expected of China. But still, I'm not saying it was a complete breeze. Not a day went by that I didn't have a communication related challenge, or I wasn't left scratching my head wondering if we all live on the same planet. Here are a few of my favorite stories:
- The spitting: you sort of get used to it after a while, hearing men AND women spitting like they were hacking up their lungs, but still, it's no fun... I was sitting in a restaurant in Lijiang with my Dutch friends, when we all heard that familiar sound, that hrrrraaaa sort of sound that precedes the spitting. A look of horror crossed all 3 of our faces when we realised it was going on just a bit too long, longer than usual. I turned around to look at the source of the noise, only to realise it was a cappuccino machine!!!
- Chinese helpfulness: Because we don't speak the same language, a lot of the Chinese look a bit panicked when you approach them for anything. They're worried you'll ask them something and that they won't be able to help you, I think. That's why I always brought along directions in Chinese wherever I went. But sometimes, you get people that can't help themselves but wanting to 'help' you, even if you don't need it. Case in point: I managed quite well to get myself to the Emperor's tomb in Xi'an via public transportation, with a few directions written in Chinese and instructions from my hostel. After visiting the museum and site, I expected to get back the same way I came and got on the bus that had dropped me off at the museum. The ticket seller didn't speak any English and panicked when I pointed to where I was going (the tickets are sold based on your destination, so you have to tell them where you are going). Knowing I came from there just that morning, I knew I was on the right bus and didn't need any help to go back, but the girl seemed worried I'd get lost or didn't know what I was doing. The whole bus started speaking Chinese, all looking at me worriedly. One guy spoke both Chinese and English, so he tried to reassure the ticket seller after I told him I knew what I was doing. She charged me a random price (cheaper than that morning), but I thought nothing of it. Off we went. No more than 10 minutes later, still very far outside the city walls, the bus stopped and a few passengers got off. Both the bus driver and the ticket seller looked at me, waiting. I shook my head no, this is not my stop, but they were insistent. Another Chinese man intervened, said he'd 'help' me to get where I wanted to go. Even after insisting to them that I didn't need help, I knew quite well where I was going, they wouldn't hear any of it. I eventually had to get off the bus, only to be 'helped' by a man who really didn't know any better than me how to get back to my hostel. Every time a bus came by, he'd look at the sign to see if it went anywhere near where I was going, but he was so slow, the bus would leave before he could be sure. I finally just pointed to a big double-decker bus packed with people and asked him if it went to the city center. It did, so I hopped on and figured it would get me close enough that I could walk the rest of the way from there. I was so happy to be 'helped' that day!
- Picture taking: I really still don't understand why some folks just HAVE TO get a picture of Westerners. I've had quite a few camera phone pictures taken of me, and some people just walk up to you and ask to have their picture taken with you. At Mt. Huashan, this girl just grabbed my arm, dragged my away to a nice viewpoint where a professional photographer stood, sat me down and had our photo taken. Why did she want a picture of us so badly she was willing to pay for it? Who knows...
- Being clueless: Because all the signs are in Chinese, you get used to being a bit clueless wherever you go. I just go about my business in my own little bubble, unaware of all the rules, explanations, history lessons, given by either tour guides or the little signs hanging everywhere. The same thing applies to restaurants, and the food they bring you. Having dinner at a renowned Xi'an restaurant with Michelle and Pierre after our day at Mt. Huashan, I was so starved that I instantly grabbed the bread-like hard cookie/cake thing they put on the table when we arrived. Halfway through the bread thingy, I see that I've caused a bit of an uproar with a few of the waitresses, all pointing at me eating and shyly laughing. They went to get the headwaiter, who then came and explained to us that what I was eating was in fact a raw bread cake, that is usually cut up in tiny pieces into a soup at the end of the meal. Who knew?
Beijing was a surprise to me, much more 'Western' than I'd imagined. Maybe it's because I'd had a whole month in China already before arriving there and was now 'used to' China, but Beijing seemed very much like another big city that could have been anywhere. Lots of designer shops, western food and huge shopping malls. That being said, it still was pretty cool to see the city a few months before the Olympics. They are still very much at work getting the place 'spruced up', with tons of renovations and construction going on all around. There are so many flowers and greenery around, that you can *almost* forget that you are choking on smog all day. ;-)
I spent the first 2 days sightseeing with my friend Jennifer, who'd already been in Beijing a while when I got there. We saw the Summer Palace (the highlight was the 'pedalo' around the lake), the Temple of Heaven (lots of Chinese doing ballroom dancing around the park in the morning) and the Olympic Stadium (aka The Bird's Nest). After she left, I spread out my sightseeing over the next few days, visiting Tienanmen Square, the Forbidden City and last but certainly not least, the Great Wall.
I chose to do a 10km hike on the Great Wall, that brought you to a less busy and less restored part of the Wall. I'd heard about this hike from a lot of travellers along the way, with everyone saying that it was a hard day, but definitely worth it. As usual with anything requiring a certain level of fitness and being done in a group, I was nervous about doing it, but thought if I'd managed Mt. Huashan the week before, I could probably handle the Great Wall.
In a group of 20 or so, we were driven more than 3 hours away to the start of our hike of the Great Wall. Just so you know, the Wall is NOT a flat surface. It goes along the tops of hills and valleys, and is separated by towers every few hundred meters or so. It rises and falls before and after each tower and there were 32 towers to cross on our 10km walk. I was completely out of breath, heart pumping away and sweat drenched before even arriving at the first tower. Man, this was going to be hard, I thought. But honestly, once you get into the groove of climbing up a tower, than going down on the other side, it wasn't that bad. It was definitely hard, but I thought it was easier than the constant climbing of steps at Mt. Huashan. A lot of people were passing me on the uphill parts, but then I would pass them as they were taking breaks once up top. I was happily settled somewhere in the middle of our group and really enjoying myself.
At just about the halfway point of our hike, the wall starts sloping downwards a little bit, so the climbing is not as hard but the downhill parts are still very rocky and a bit dangerous. I was merrily walking along on one of the very rare flat surfaces of the Wall when my right ankle twisted a bit and I fell down. Those who know me well know that I ofter fall down, so I didn't think anything of it at first. I started to get up, but felt something wet on my left leg. I lifted up my pant leg to see BLOOD GUSHING OUT OF A HOLE in my knee!!! I stared dumbfounded for a few seconds, watching the blood pour out and puddle on the Wall below me. I couldn't understand it, cause 1) it didn't really hurt 2) I had no clue how it had happened 3) it wasn't a scratch, it was an honest to goodness hole in my knee! After a minute or so, the blood stopped pouring out and it was only just leaking, but I still really didn't know what to do. I just sat there and looked at it.
Finally, a group of French that I'd been passing and being passed by during the first half of the Wall came along and helped me. Out came the antiseptic wipes and tissues, and they did a good job of cleaning my knee up. They looked a bit anxious, and their tour leader ask me if I wanted her to go get my tour leader, but really, there was no point as there was nothing he could do. By this time, the very last person of my group had caught up with me, and it turns out she is a nurse. She supervised a bit more cleaning of the wound, slapped on a few bandaids and helped me up.
I can safely say that the 2nd half of the Wall was all a blur to me. Once I started walking back, the adrenaline left my body and the knee started hurting. I just kept repeating to myself: Keep going, don't stop, keep going, don't stop... At one point, I was at the back of the pack with an English family, with 2 girls in their early 20's. One girl was such a complainer, whinging the whole time, that she actually made me feel better. I was pleased with myself that I was being quite stoic, not like her, I could just hold it in now and complain later on in my blog :-) My little 'accident' also helped me get over my fear of zip lines. At the end of this portion of the Wall, you had a choice of walking another 40 minutes or so, or taking a 30 second zip line across the river. Needless to say, I chose the zip line. I was petrified the whole time, didn't really enjoy it I must admit, but I did it. There, another first for me.
So, like my sister Johanne said when I told her my story, I left my mark on the Great Wall of China that day (in the form of a nice puddle of blood), and gained a new souvenir as well. I just wish my souvenirs would take a different form than scars, I'm getting quite the collection now...
So, that wraps up my time in mainland China. I'm now in Hong Kong, getting ready for my African adventure with Melissa. I've taken it easy the past few days, read through all my Harry Potter books (sniff, sniff), and have had time to update the blog (yay!) and reflect a little bit on my time in China. All in all, China wasn't nearly as hard as I had expected it to be. My favorite part was the Yunnan province in the south, where it was a bit more rural and looked a bit more like what I expected of China. But still, I'm not saying it was a complete breeze. Not a day went by that I didn't have a communication related challenge, or I wasn't left scratching my head wondering if we all live on the same planet. Here are a few of my favorite stories:
- The spitting: you sort of get used to it after a while, hearing men AND women spitting like they were hacking up their lungs, but still, it's no fun... I was sitting in a restaurant in Lijiang with my Dutch friends, when we all heard that familiar sound, that hrrrraaaa sort of sound that precedes the spitting. A look of horror crossed all 3 of our faces when we realised it was going on just a bit too long, longer than usual. I turned around to look at the source of the noise, only to realise it was a cappuccino machine!!!
- Chinese helpfulness: Because we don't speak the same language, a lot of the Chinese look a bit panicked when you approach them for anything. They're worried you'll ask them something and that they won't be able to help you, I think. That's why I always brought along directions in Chinese wherever I went. But sometimes, you get people that can't help themselves but wanting to 'help' you, even if you don't need it. Case in point: I managed quite well to get myself to the Emperor's tomb in Xi'an via public transportation, with a few directions written in Chinese and instructions from my hostel. After visiting the museum and site, I expected to get back the same way I came and got on the bus that had dropped me off at the museum. The ticket seller didn't speak any English and panicked when I pointed to where I was going (the tickets are sold based on your destination, so you have to tell them where you are going). Knowing I came from there just that morning, I knew I was on the right bus and didn't need any help to go back, but the girl seemed worried I'd get lost or didn't know what I was doing. The whole bus started speaking Chinese, all looking at me worriedly. One guy spoke both Chinese and English, so he tried to reassure the ticket seller after I told him I knew what I was doing. She charged me a random price (cheaper than that morning), but I thought nothing of it. Off we went. No more than 10 minutes later, still very far outside the city walls, the bus stopped and a few passengers got off. Both the bus driver and the ticket seller looked at me, waiting. I shook my head no, this is not my stop, but they were insistent. Another Chinese man intervened, said he'd 'help' me to get where I wanted to go. Even after insisting to them that I didn't need help, I knew quite well where I was going, they wouldn't hear any of it. I eventually had to get off the bus, only to be 'helped' by a man who really didn't know any better than me how to get back to my hostel. Every time a bus came by, he'd look at the sign to see if it went anywhere near where I was going, but he was so slow, the bus would leave before he could be sure. I finally just pointed to a big double-decker bus packed with people and asked him if it went to the city center. It did, so I hopped on and figured it would get me close enough that I could walk the rest of the way from there. I was so happy to be 'helped' that day!
- Picture taking: I really still don't understand why some folks just HAVE TO get a picture of Westerners. I've had quite a few camera phone pictures taken of me, and some people just walk up to you and ask to have their picture taken with you. At Mt. Huashan, this girl just grabbed my arm, dragged my away to a nice viewpoint where a professional photographer stood, sat me down and had our photo taken. Why did she want a picture of us so badly she was willing to pay for it? Who knows...
- Being clueless: Because all the signs are in Chinese, you get used to being a bit clueless wherever you go. I just go about my business in my own little bubble, unaware of all the rules, explanations, history lessons, given by either tour guides or the little signs hanging everywhere. The same thing applies to restaurants, and the food they bring you. Having dinner at a renowned Xi'an restaurant with Michelle and Pierre after our day at Mt. Huashan, I was so starved that I instantly grabbed the bread-like hard cookie/cake thing they put on the table when we arrived. Halfway through the bread thingy, I see that I've caused a bit of an uproar with a few of the waitresses, all pointing at me eating and shyly laughing. They went to get the headwaiter, who then came and explained to us that what I was eating was in fact a raw bread cake, that is usually cut up in tiny pieces into a soup at the end of the meal. Who knew?
Killing time in Xi'an
So, even though Xi'an wouldn't have been my first choice to spend an extra week in China, I still managed to occupy my time and enjoy myself.
I first amused myself by catching the 4th cold of my trip. Yes, that's right, the 4th one. It was loads of fun, I assure you. I can safely say that I wasn't a very popular dorm mate for the first few days, what with all the nose blowing, coughing fits and cold-induced snoring that even woke me up...
I also took advantage of this break to get started on a Harry Potter obsession that has only just finished today. Since I was going to be in Xi'an a while, I decided to visit the English language book store for some books. I haven't been reading much lately, too busy I guess :-), but a nice book would be a good way to pass some time I thought. I first bought book #3 in the series, thinking that I'd only read the first 2, only to discover after the first 2 chapters that not only had I already read the book, but seen the movie as well! I guess the title just wasn't memorable to me. It was an interesting challenge to return the book and try to explain all of this to the Chinese clerk, but I managed and left the shop with book #4 with me. Books #5 and #6 were bought and read in Beijing, while book #7 I bought 2 days ago on my arrival in Hong Kong. I'm feeling a bit bereft this morning, as I just finished the last book. I now can't wait to see the movies...
Between a lot of reading and blowing my nose, I also managed to get in a bit more sightseeing in the area. I spent one entertaining day visiting another Emperor's tomb in the area. This Emperor was not quite as 'grandiose' as Qin #1 of the Terracotta Warrior fame, as he had himself buried with an army of 2-foot tall soldiers instead of the life size version. The museum and archaeological site surrounding the tomb was very interesting and a lot quieter to visit than the Terracotta Warriors.
But my favorite day-trip of all was visiting one of China's 'Sacred Mountains' called Mt. Huashan. I went there with a couple from Montreal (Michelle and Pierre) that I met at the hostel in Xi'an. By the way, I had the most 'Quebecer sightings' while in Xi'an, by far. At my hostel only, I met 3 different couples as well as 1 solo guy, all from Quebec, which is more than the whole of South East Asia I think! But back to Mt. Huashan. I had seen some incredible pictures of the mountain at the hostel and was looking forward to going there. I knew there was a cable car that brought you to the top of the mountain, so I thought my day would be spent slowly and gently walking around the top of the mountain, taking a few pictures and then heading back. I was sooo wrong. It turns out that yes, there is a cable car that brings you to the top of the mountain, but then there are many different peaks you can walk to, all with amazing views of the mountain and surrounding area. Being a very popular sacred mountain with the Chinese, they've built stone and concrete steps to every peak for the tourists to use. As I got off the cable car, we saw a path to one of the peaks and started climbing the steps. It's a good thing that I didn't know how many steps were involved before I started out that morning, cause I don't think I would have been able to face it. Around 2000 steps later (!!!) and I was done in. I managed to climb to the West Peak and South Peak and got to see some very impressive views. Made even more impressive by the effort it me took to get my butt up there!
I visited Mount Huashan on the day of the earthquake. I've told everyone that I didn't really feel it on that day, but I got a weird feeling on the mountain at one point, that I've come to realise was the earthquake. As Michelle and I were coming down the steps heading back to the cable car, at one point my legs got very wobbly and I had trouble standing straight. I thought I was dizzy from the exertion, so I stopped for a few seconds to stabilize, but the feeling continued a few more seconds after that. Nothing dramatic, but I now realise this was the earthquake going through Huashan, more than 1000km away and 1600m up from the epicenter. I still feel very lucky to have missed it, after all the devastation and bad news coming out since it happened.
I did finally get my passport back, a whole 8 days after I arrived in Xi'an. Once I got it, I booked myself on the next train out of there, heading to Beijing...
I first amused myself by catching the 4th cold of my trip. Yes, that's right, the 4th one. It was loads of fun, I assure you. I can safely say that I wasn't a very popular dorm mate for the first few days, what with all the nose blowing, coughing fits and cold-induced snoring that even woke me up...
I also took advantage of this break to get started on a Harry Potter obsession that has only just finished today. Since I was going to be in Xi'an a while, I decided to visit the English language book store for some books. I haven't been reading much lately, too busy I guess :-), but a nice book would be a good way to pass some time I thought. I first bought book #3 in the series, thinking that I'd only read the first 2, only to discover after the first 2 chapters that not only had I already read the book, but seen the movie as well! I guess the title just wasn't memorable to me. It was an interesting challenge to return the book and try to explain all of this to the Chinese clerk, but I managed and left the shop with book #4 with me. Books #5 and #6 were bought and read in Beijing, while book #7 I bought 2 days ago on my arrival in Hong Kong. I'm feeling a bit bereft this morning, as I just finished the last book. I now can't wait to see the movies...
Between a lot of reading and blowing my nose, I also managed to get in a bit more sightseeing in the area. I spent one entertaining day visiting another Emperor's tomb in the area. This Emperor was not quite as 'grandiose' as Qin #1 of the Terracotta Warrior fame, as he had himself buried with an army of 2-foot tall soldiers instead of the life size version. The museum and archaeological site surrounding the tomb was very interesting and a lot quieter to visit than the Terracotta Warriors.
But my favorite day-trip of all was visiting one of China's 'Sacred Mountains' called Mt. Huashan. I went there with a couple from Montreal (Michelle and Pierre) that I met at the hostel in Xi'an. By the way, I had the most 'Quebecer sightings' while in Xi'an, by far. At my hostel only, I met 3 different couples as well as 1 solo guy, all from Quebec, which is more than the whole of South East Asia I think! But back to Mt. Huashan. I had seen some incredible pictures of the mountain at the hostel and was looking forward to going there. I knew there was a cable car that brought you to the top of the mountain, so I thought my day would be spent slowly and gently walking around the top of the mountain, taking a few pictures and then heading back. I was sooo wrong. It turns out that yes, there is a cable car that brings you to the top of the mountain, but then there are many different peaks you can walk to, all with amazing views of the mountain and surrounding area. Being a very popular sacred mountain with the Chinese, they've built stone and concrete steps to every peak for the tourists to use. As I got off the cable car, we saw a path to one of the peaks and started climbing the steps. It's a good thing that I didn't know how many steps were involved before I started out that morning, cause I don't think I would have been able to face it. Around 2000 steps later (!!!) and I was done in. I managed to climb to the West Peak and South Peak and got to see some very impressive views. Made even more impressive by the effort it me took to get my butt up there!
I visited Mount Huashan on the day of the earthquake. I've told everyone that I didn't really feel it on that day, but I got a weird feeling on the mountain at one point, that I've come to realise was the earthquake. As Michelle and I were coming down the steps heading back to the cable car, at one point my legs got very wobbly and I had trouble standing straight. I thought I was dizzy from the exertion, so I stopped for a few seconds to stabilize, but the feeling continued a few more seconds after that. Nothing dramatic, but I now realise this was the earthquake going through Huashan, more than 1000km away and 1600m up from the epicenter. I still feel very lucky to have missed it, after all the devastation and bad news coming out since it happened.
I did finally get my passport back, a whole 8 days after I arrived in Xi'an. Once I got it, I booked myself on the next train out of there, heading to Beijing...
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Guardian angels working overtime
I've said before that my guardian angels I got before leaving on my trip were working out very well for me, keeping me safe throughout my trip, but I think they have been working overtime lately.
As I'm sure you are all well aware by now, a major earthquake hit China earlier this week. The epicenter was near Chengdu, which I'd left just a few days before. I was staying in Xi'an when it hit, which is a 1000 km or so away from Chengdu, and still the earthquake could be felt and even damaged buildings in the area. Robyn, the American woman I saw the pandas and Giant Buddha with, was actually at the Chengdu airport at the time of the earthquake, and while she didn't see anyone get hurt and she herself was fine, it seemed like a very chaotic and scary situation that I'm glad I didn't have to go through. My luck hasn't run out yet.
I ended up spending 8 days in Xi'an, which is way longer than I'd planned to. A bit of bad planning and a minor dose of bad luck left me somewhat stranded there without really wanting to. All this because I needed to extend my Chinese visa by 2 weeks, so that I could make the most of my time before heading off to South-Africa to meet my niece Melissa at the end of May. To extend your visa, you need to visit a Public Safety Bureau (PSB) and fill-out a form. The processing of your visa extension is variable, from same-day to 5 days, depending on which city you apply for it. Without my Lonely Planet (yeah, that again), I didn't really have all the information I needed to make a good choice as to where to apply for the visa extension. I could have done it in Lijiang for example, I've now read that that is a good, fast place to do it in. I knew I had to do it before Beijing, as processing delays would be longer there (why? I don't really know. Something to do with the Olympics, as with everything in China these days). Why didn't I do it in Chengdu, when I was taking that nice long break? Umm, maybe because I'm a procrastinator? Yeah, that's probably why. No other good reason.
I got to Xi'an on Tuesday May 6 after taking a cheap flight, the same one my new friend Jennifer was taking. She was scheduled to be in Xi'an for a day and a half, so I changed my plans from taking a train to taking a plane to be there the same time as she. We walked around the town on that very hot first day, and I made a point of looking for the PSB office as soon as we got there. The PSB office was very clearly located on my map of Xi'an, so it should have been an easy place to find. But no, even after asking a few people, we could not find it anywhere near where it was supposed to be, so I gave up. I figured I'd ask for clearer directions at the hostels.
The next day was my 'Terracotta warriors' day (more on that later), so I couldn't go to the PSB. Finally, on Thursday morning I ask for directions to the PSB at the travel desk at my hostel, only to find out that it has only just recently moved to a totally different area of the city, which explained why I couldn't find it on that first day. I amazingly managed to get there without getting lost, which is quite surprising with all the mistake possibilities that ensue from taking a bus to go somewhere in China. First of all, I was told I could take bus #6 or #311 to get there, and was pointed in the general direction of the bus stop. As soon as I got to the bus stop, I saw a bus #6 stop, so I got on and showed the driver the name of the street I wanted to stop at. At first he didn't even want me to show him my paper, cause he assumed it would be in English and he couldn't help me, but when I insisted, he eventually took a look at it and shook his head no. He used the hand signal for the number 6 and kept pointing it at my face until I somehow understood that he was telling my that there was another bus #6 and this wasn't the right one. Ooookay, that makes things simple. Same number buses that go different places? (It turns out one #6 bus has a Chinese character after the number. So it's something like bus '6b' or 'tourist bus 6' instead of just plain 6)
With some good luck and a little bit of help from a Chinese lady in my bus, I eventually got off at the right stop. But it's amazing how every little thing become difficult when you can't read the signs around you or you don't have references to help you find your way. The directions I got at the hostel said: "Get off the bus, turn right, walk 2 minutes and you will see a large building on your left. That's where you want to go." So I got off the bus, turned right and walked a few minutes until I decided that something was not quite right. I went back to the bus stop and started over. I will save you the long boring details, but about 45 minutes later I found the place. The actual directions I should have gotten are this: Get off the bus, turn left, walk to the next street corner, cross the street, turn right and it's the first building on your left". It sounds close, but it's not quite the same thing.
The visa extension application process was really an entertaining look into Chinese bureaucracy. I first had to fill in a form (in Chinese, but with an English translation posted on the wall that you could refer to) and give them 1 passport-sized photo. I then had to get my passport id page and visa photocopied, so that meant braving the hordes of Chinese fighting for the next chance at the photocopy machine. It's an amazing site to see and the pushing and shoving these relatively small men and woman can do is almost scary. When I first saw the 'line' at the photocopier, I actually laughed out loud. In this very small area no bigger than a toilet stall, a dozen or so people were coming dangerously close to trampling each other. I took a deep breath, figuratively rolled up my sleeves and dove right in. I used my size and my elbows to make sure that no one would cut in from behind me, and made it out alive only to realise after leaving the room that the girl didn't photocopy the right pages. Doh. I turned around, went back in and lo and behold! there was now an actual line, with people standing respectfully one behind the other! I could not believe it, as I was there 2 minutes before and it was chaos! I get in line to wait my turn, and after a few minutes, chaos starts up again. I realised that the ladies working the photocopier try very hard to get people to respect a line, but that it is a constant struggle and if they stop yelling at people for 2 seconds, the pushing and shoving starts again. The concept of lines, or queuing as it's known elsewhere in the world, is very new to the Chinese and will definitely take some time before it becomes common practice.
After the photocopies, I go back to the lady taking my visa extension application and she then takes my picture. Why did I have to give them a photo if they are only going to take another one anyways? Who knows. And why the photocopies when they have the original passport? Again, who knows. Next up: go back to another scary 'line' to pay for my visa extension. Once that is all done, I sit in front of the lady while she types away at her keyboard for what seems like 10 minutes, thinking 'Wow! This is cool, she's probably processing my visa extension right away'. It's taking so long and she seems to be working hard, so she must be getting everything done then and there, right? Wrong. I only get a little receipt that says I can pick up my passport on the 14th, a whole WEEK later. I simply couldn't believe that I'd have to stay in Xi'an a whole week just waiting for my passport. I sat there in shock for 5 minutes, with the lady just ignoring me while I absorbed the news...
It's not to say the Xi'an wasn't a nice place to stay, but still, a whole week seemed a bit much, especially since I had already seen the main thing I wanted to in Xi'an, which was the Terracotta warriors. And doesn't it defeat the purpose, getting a 2-week extension only to have to spend 1 of them waiting for the passport? Whatever, these things happen and there are worse things then spending a week in a Chinese city, like actually working for example ;-)
Like I said, my main reason for going to Xi'an was to see the Terracotta warriors. Since my friend Jennifer only had 1 day to see all the sights, we decided to make the most of it by booking a day tour. Even if I hesitated a bit before booking (it would have been cheaper to do on our own), I was sooo not disappointed with the tour, as we had an excellent guide and a nice gang of people. Our guide gave us a bit of the history of Xi'an before we started seeing the sights, so we actually understood what we were seeing for a change. We saw the ruins of a prehistoric village (pretty cool), a replica of the 1st Qing Emperor's tomb (a bit cheesy, but still OK), and then the piece de resistance, the Terracotta Warriors. Now some people say they are disappointed when they actually get to see them, because you can't really see them up close, but I don't get the disappointment. It was a very cool moment for me, one of the moments I get chills just thinking how amazing it is for me to actually be there, seeing these warriors that I'd heard about back home, just sitting on my butt, watching TV. Are the warriors themselves worth traveling half-way across the world to see them? It's hard to say, but probably not. But for me, it reminded me that what I'm doing this year is very special and exciting. And the story behind the actual warriors is pretty cool too. To think that a human being (the Emperor) is believed to be so important and has such a huge ego that he built an actual life size army to protect him in his afterlife, and then buried them and the real people who made them at his death, is unbelievable. Gives my goosebumps.
I will eventually post the pictures I took of the warriors, but as usual, they don't really do the moment justice. At least they'll help remind me of that great day I spent in Xi'an.
As I'm sure you are all well aware by now, a major earthquake hit China earlier this week. The epicenter was near Chengdu, which I'd left just a few days before. I was staying in Xi'an when it hit, which is a 1000 km or so away from Chengdu, and still the earthquake could be felt and even damaged buildings in the area. Robyn, the American woman I saw the pandas and Giant Buddha with, was actually at the Chengdu airport at the time of the earthquake, and while she didn't see anyone get hurt and she herself was fine, it seemed like a very chaotic and scary situation that I'm glad I didn't have to go through. My luck hasn't run out yet.
I ended up spending 8 days in Xi'an, which is way longer than I'd planned to. A bit of bad planning and a minor dose of bad luck left me somewhat stranded there without really wanting to. All this because I needed to extend my Chinese visa by 2 weeks, so that I could make the most of my time before heading off to South-Africa to meet my niece Melissa at the end of May. To extend your visa, you need to visit a Public Safety Bureau (PSB) and fill-out a form. The processing of your visa extension is variable, from same-day to 5 days, depending on which city you apply for it. Without my Lonely Planet (yeah, that again), I didn't really have all the information I needed to make a good choice as to where to apply for the visa extension. I could have done it in Lijiang for example, I've now read that that is a good, fast place to do it in. I knew I had to do it before Beijing, as processing delays would be longer there (why? I don't really know. Something to do with the Olympics, as with everything in China these days). Why didn't I do it in Chengdu, when I was taking that nice long break? Umm, maybe because I'm a procrastinator? Yeah, that's probably why. No other good reason.
I got to Xi'an on Tuesday May 6 after taking a cheap flight, the same one my new friend Jennifer was taking. She was scheduled to be in Xi'an for a day and a half, so I changed my plans from taking a train to taking a plane to be there the same time as she. We walked around the town on that very hot first day, and I made a point of looking for the PSB office as soon as we got there. The PSB office was very clearly located on my map of Xi'an, so it should have been an easy place to find. But no, even after asking a few people, we could not find it anywhere near where it was supposed to be, so I gave up. I figured I'd ask for clearer directions at the hostels.
The next day was my 'Terracotta warriors' day (more on that later), so I couldn't go to the PSB. Finally, on Thursday morning I ask for directions to the PSB at the travel desk at my hostel, only to find out that it has only just recently moved to a totally different area of the city, which explained why I couldn't find it on that first day. I amazingly managed to get there without getting lost, which is quite surprising with all the mistake possibilities that ensue from taking a bus to go somewhere in China. First of all, I was told I could take bus #6 or #311 to get there, and was pointed in the general direction of the bus stop. As soon as I got to the bus stop, I saw a bus #6 stop, so I got on and showed the driver the name of the street I wanted to stop at. At first he didn't even want me to show him my paper, cause he assumed it would be in English and he couldn't help me, but when I insisted, he eventually took a look at it and shook his head no. He used the hand signal for the number 6 and kept pointing it at my face until I somehow understood that he was telling my that there was another bus #6 and this wasn't the right one. Ooookay, that makes things simple. Same number buses that go different places? (It turns out one #6 bus has a Chinese character after the number. So it's something like bus '6b' or 'tourist bus 6' instead of just plain 6)
With some good luck and a little bit of help from a Chinese lady in my bus, I eventually got off at the right stop. But it's amazing how every little thing become difficult when you can't read the signs around you or you don't have references to help you find your way. The directions I got at the hostel said: "Get off the bus, turn right, walk 2 minutes and you will see a large building on your left. That's where you want to go." So I got off the bus, turned right and walked a few minutes until I decided that something was not quite right. I went back to the bus stop and started over. I will save you the long boring details, but about 45 minutes later I found the place. The actual directions I should have gotten are this: Get off the bus, turn left, walk to the next street corner, cross the street, turn right and it's the first building on your left". It sounds close, but it's not quite the same thing.
The visa extension application process was really an entertaining look into Chinese bureaucracy. I first had to fill in a form (in Chinese, but with an English translation posted on the wall that you could refer to) and give them 1 passport-sized photo. I then had to get my passport id page and visa photocopied, so that meant braving the hordes of Chinese fighting for the next chance at the photocopy machine. It's an amazing site to see and the pushing and shoving these relatively small men and woman can do is almost scary. When I first saw the 'line' at the photocopier, I actually laughed out loud. In this very small area no bigger than a toilet stall, a dozen or so people were coming dangerously close to trampling each other. I took a deep breath, figuratively rolled up my sleeves and dove right in. I used my size and my elbows to make sure that no one would cut in from behind me, and made it out alive only to realise after leaving the room that the girl didn't photocopy the right pages. Doh. I turned around, went back in and lo and behold! there was now an actual line, with people standing respectfully one behind the other! I could not believe it, as I was there 2 minutes before and it was chaos! I get in line to wait my turn, and after a few minutes, chaos starts up again. I realised that the ladies working the photocopier try very hard to get people to respect a line, but that it is a constant struggle and if they stop yelling at people for 2 seconds, the pushing and shoving starts again. The concept of lines, or queuing as it's known elsewhere in the world, is very new to the Chinese and will definitely take some time before it becomes common practice.
After the photocopies, I go back to the lady taking my visa extension application and she then takes my picture. Why did I have to give them a photo if they are only going to take another one anyways? Who knows. And why the photocopies when they have the original passport? Again, who knows. Next up: go back to another scary 'line' to pay for my visa extension. Once that is all done, I sit in front of the lady while she types away at her keyboard for what seems like 10 minutes, thinking 'Wow! This is cool, she's probably processing my visa extension right away'. It's taking so long and she seems to be working hard, so she must be getting everything done then and there, right? Wrong. I only get a little receipt that says I can pick up my passport on the 14th, a whole WEEK later. I simply couldn't believe that I'd have to stay in Xi'an a whole week just waiting for my passport. I sat there in shock for 5 minutes, with the lady just ignoring me while I absorbed the news...
It's not to say the Xi'an wasn't a nice place to stay, but still, a whole week seemed a bit much, especially since I had already seen the main thing I wanted to in Xi'an, which was the Terracotta warriors. And doesn't it defeat the purpose, getting a 2-week extension only to have to spend 1 of them waiting for the passport? Whatever, these things happen and there are worse things then spending a week in a Chinese city, like actually working for example ;-)
Like I said, my main reason for going to Xi'an was to see the Terracotta warriors. Since my friend Jennifer only had 1 day to see all the sights, we decided to make the most of it by booking a day tour. Even if I hesitated a bit before booking (it would have been cheaper to do on our own), I was sooo not disappointed with the tour, as we had an excellent guide and a nice gang of people. Our guide gave us a bit of the history of Xi'an before we started seeing the sights, so we actually understood what we were seeing for a change. We saw the ruins of a prehistoric village (pretty cool), a replica of the 1st Qing Emperor's tomb (a bit cheesy, but still OK), and then the piece de resistance, the Terracotta Warriors. Now some people say they are disappointed when they actually get to see them, because you can't really see them up close, but I don't get the disappointment. It was a very cool moment for me, one of the moments I get chills just thinking how amazing it is for me to actually be there, seeing these warriors that I'd heard about back home, just sitting on my butt, watching TV. Are the warriors themselves worth traveling half-way across the world to see them? It's hard to say, but probably not. But for me, it reminded me that what I'm doing this year is very special and exciting. And the story behind the actual warriors is pretty cool too. To think that a human being (the Emperor) is believed to be so important and has such a huge ego that he built an actual life size army to protect him in his afterlife, and then buried them and the real people who made them at his death, is unbelievable. Gives my goosebumps.
I will eventually post the pictures I took of the warriors, but as usual, they don't really do the moment justice. At least they'll help remind me of that great day I spent in Xi'an.
Pandas, Buddhas and Opera
The last time I posted something, I was getting ready for a 2-day travel extravaganza to get from Lijiang to Chengdu.
The traveling went well, with just a few minor hiccups, as can be expected. My trip from Lijiang to Kunming was an overnighter, by sleeper bus. Now the sleeper bus was a new one for me, having thus far avoided taking one since I don't like traveling at night. I was a bit, I don't know, skeptical I guess is the word, that it would be comfortable or a good way to travel, but it really was pretty OK. The sleeper bus consist of many rows of bunk beds, both lower and upper ones. The beds are very narrow, short and have somewhat of a slope to them, the head area being higher than the feet area. I of course had a top bunk (is there really any other one available for a plus-size non Asian person???), but was very (very very) thankful that I had a 'single' bunk instead of the 'triple' or even 'quadruple' ones at the back of the bus. They still are individual spots for each person, but in some cases there are no separations between the beds, so you are in fact just basically lying 3 (or 4) people in the same small area. Case in point: the 2 Chinese girls in the row next to me were not impressed when they ended up sharing a bed with a middle-aged man. They giggled for 5 minutes, then tried everything to avoid touching him for the rest of the night. Good luck with that, even for skinny Chinese girls...
The bus left at 7PM and by 7:05PM it seems everyone on the bus was already asleep, save for me. I haven't quite learned to condition myself to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, so by 2AM I was wondering if I ever was going to sleep that night. I did eventually fall asleep, but then the bus stops every so often to let you pee or buy food, like at 10PM, 12AM, 3AM, so you never sleep for very long. At least the girl I bought my ticket from said that they let you sleep on the bus until about 7AM, even if they arrive at the destination before that. Not so for this bus! At 5:45 AM, just as I had fallen asleep for a 2nd time that night, the bus stopped and the driver started going up and down the aisles, poking people in their sides and screaming like a banshee. Even if I don't understand Chinese, I somehow figured out he wanted us off his bus, and NOW.
Off I get, grabbing all my stuff and sort of stumbling in the dark at the bus station. My next goal was to get to the train station so that I could drop off my big backpack in storage for the day, allowing me to walk around Kunming unencumbered until my train that night. I had my map of Kunming in my hands, knew where the train station was but it's all pointless if you don't know where you are at the moment. There are a few bus stations in the city, all of them identified on my map, but who knew which one I was at? And since my sleep-deprived brain wasn't up to trying to figure it all out, and since it was still pitch black outside and I'd read the bus and train stations in Kunming are generally not good areas at night, I decided to take a taxi. I quickly found a taxi driver, a woman, and pointed out the train station on my map. Luckily, it was also in Chinese, so she understood where I wanted to go, but she was still looking at me funny, as if to say: you want to go THERE? really? I was in no mood to figure out what was wrong with going to the train station, so I just kept pointing at it on my map and nodding yes yes yes. She finally relented and nodded yes, she'd take me there. No sooner had I closed the door and the meter been started that I looked out the window and saw that we had arrived at the train station. No, I did not fall asleep or pass out, we had not driven more than 100 meters from the bus station exit to the drop-off at the train station. Now I understood her reluctance to bring me there! I could have walked it in 2 minutes flat!
I wasn't upset at her, since she'd obviously tried to convey SOMETHING to me, I just couldn't understand what it was. So I quickly paid her my 10-yuan fare (about 1.25$) and got off the taxi. By this time, it is maybe 5:48AM, so I have roughly 14 hours or so to kill... Yay. I'll spare you the tedious details of how I killed 14 hours in a city I'd already visited and didn't really have any enthusiasm for seeing again, but let's just say it involved a lot of walking and many hours in one of the MEGA internet cafes they have in China.
The overnight train from Kunming to Chengdu was good as well, maybe not as comfortable as the sleeper bus, but still OK. I had the top bunk again (but of course), but I have to say this time it did end up being a bit hard to get down from, since there are 3 superimposed beds and it is quite high. Getting up there wasn't a problem, but I almost had vertigo trying to get down. No problems sleeping though, but I think that had more to do with the fact I'd just spent a sleepless night.
It's a weird experience being the only westerner in a whole bus or a train carriage. You get a lot of attention, as people are very curious as to what the hell you are doing there amongst them. I felt a bit like a star in the train, with one group of elderly Chinese men trying to 'talk' to me (1 of them spoke some English), and their wives trying to feed me constantly. We managed to talk a little bit after I took out my Mandarin phrasebook, and Mr. Wu tried teaching me to count to 10 in Chinese, but I'm hopeless. I can't for the life of me get the tones right, as was proved when I tried telling them I was going to Xi'an next. Xi'an, to my western ears, is pronounced Shi-Ann. I said it 5 times, all with a blank look, but then found it in my phrasebook. Mr. Wu took out his glasses, read what I was pointing at and said: "Ah yes! Shi-Ann! Right!". It all sounded the same to me, but obviously it mustn't have been. I am in no danger of changing careers to become an interpreter, that's for sure.
I stayed at an amazing hostel in Chengdu, so I took advantage of it and spent the first 3 days doing nothing much at all. On my first day, I met an American girl and we had ourselves a 'western' day: a mocha-choca-whacka-whatsit at Starbucks, tacos and burritos at a Tex-Mex restaurant (good food, even if her taco was identical to my burrito...) and finally 2 pints each of Guinness at the local Irish pub! Each pint cost almost 10 dollars, a third of my daily budget for China, but what the hell! It was excellent and worth every penny!
The next day my western-themed break continued, as I had dinner at KFC and went to a movie. I saw 'Forbidden Kingdom', the movie with Jet Li and Jackie Chan. In it's original form, this movie is in English with some subtitles on the rare occasions they speak Chinese. Here in China, it was dubbed in Chinese and had Chinese subtitles as well. I had to go to a 'special' viewing to get to see it with English subtitles!
The last day of my break was spent reading not 1 but 2 books borrowed from the hostel's library. Excellent.
Having just spent 3 days doing nothing, I then crammed in all the Chengdu sites during the following 2 days. I went to see the pandas at the breeding center near by, and really enjoyed that. They 'look' cute and cuddly, but they are still big enough to remind you they are from the bear family. And even if I'd have loved to have a picture of me hugging a panda, I'm just too cheap for that. Can you imagine that it cost 1200 yuan, ie about 170 USD to hug a Giant panda?Isn't that crazy? Next up was a night at the Sichuan opera, which isn't anything like I'd have imagined an opera to be. A bit of singing, a bit of dancing, some comedy, acrobatics and the piece the resistance: 'changing faces'. The performers have masks on their faces that can change in a blink of an eye. My analytical mind didn't really enjoy that part of the show cause I spent all my time trying to figure out how they do it. I didn't come close to figuring it out, so I still ended up impressed.
The final 'must-do' for the Chengdu area was to visit the Giant Buddha in Leshan. Now after more than 6 months, I've seen my fair share of Buddhas, so my enthusiasm would have been so-so had I gone on my own, but luckily I had met 2 other American girls (there everywhere these days! :-) ) and went with them. We had a fun day figuring out the local transportation, walking countless steps, wandering around without ever getting lost once, and making our way back safe and sound. Oh, and the Buddha was nice too. ;-)
The traveling went well, with just a few minor hiccups, as can be expected. My trip from Lijiang to Kunming was an overnighter, by sleeper bus. Now the sleeper bus was a new one for me, having thus far avoided taking one since I don't like traveling at night. I was a bit, I don't know, skeptical I guess is the word, that it would be comfortable or a good way to travel, but it really was pretty OK. The sleeper bus consist of many rows of bunk beds, both lower and upper ones. The beds are very narrow, short and have somewhat of a slope to them, the head area being higher than the feet area. I of course had a top bunk (is there really any other one available for a plus-size non Asian person???), but was very (very very) thankful that I had a 'single' bunk instead of the 'triple' or even 'quadruple' ones at the back of the bus. They still are individual spots for each person, but in some cases there are no separations between the beds, so you are in fact just basically lying 3 (or 4) people in the same small area. Case in point: the 2 Chinese girls in the row next to me were not impressed when they ended up sharing a bed with a middle-aged man. They giggled for 5 minutes, then tried everything to avoid touching him for the rest of the night. Good luck with that, even for skinny Chinese girls...
The bus left at 7PM and by 7:05PM it seems everyone on the bus was already asleep, save for me. I haven't quite learned to condition myself to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, so by 2AM I was wondering if I ever was going to sleep that night. I did eventually fall asleep, but then the bus stops every so often to let you pee or buy food, like at 10PM, 12AM, 3AM, so you never sleep for very long. At least the girl I bought my ticket from said that they let you sleep on the bus until about 7AM, even if they arrive at the destination before that. Not so for this bus! At 5:45 AM, just as I had fallen asleep for a 2nd time that night, the bus stopped and the driver started going up and down the aisles, poking people in their sides and screaming like a banshee. Even if I don't understand Chinese, I somehow figured out he wanted us off his bus, and NOW.
Off I get, grabbing all my stuff and sort of stumbling in the dark at the bus station. My next goal was to get to the train station so that I could drop off my big backpack in storage for the day, allowing me to walk around Kunming unencumbered until my train that night. I had my map of Kunming in my hands, knew where the train station was but it's all pointless if you don't know where you are at the moment. There are a few bus stations in the city, all of them identified on my map, but who knew which one I was at? And since my sleep-deprived brain wasn't up to trying to figure it all out, and since it was still pitch black outside and I'd read the bus and train stations in Kunming are generally not good areas at night, I decided to take a taxi. I quickly found a taxi driver, a woman, and pointed out the train station on my map. Luckily, it was also in Chinese, so she understood where I wanted to go, but she was still looking at me funny, as if to say: you want to go THERE? really? I was in no mood to figure out what was wrong with going to the train station, so I just kept pointing at it on my map and nodding yes yes yes. She finally relented and nodded yes, she'd take me there. No sooner had I closed the door and the meter been started that I looked out the window and saw that we had arrived at the train station. No, I did not fall asleep or pass out, we had not driven more than 100 meters from the bus station exit to the drop-off at the train station. Now I understood her reluctance to bring me there! I could have walked it in 2 minutes flat!
I wasn't upset at her, since she'd obviously tried to convey SOMETHING to me, I just couldn't understand what it was. So I quickly paid her my 10-yuan fare (about 1.25$) and got off the taxi. By this time, it is maybe 5:48AM, so I have roughly 14 hours or so to kill... Yay. I'll spare you the tedious details of how I killed 14 hours in a city I'd already visited and didn't really have any enthusiasm for seeing again, but let's just say it involved a lot of walking and many hours in one of the MEGA internet cafes they have in China.
The overnight train from Kunming to Chengdu was good as well, maybe not as comfortable as the sleeper bus, but still OK. I had the top bunk again (but of course), but I have to say this time it did end up being a bit hard to get down from, since there are 3 superimposed beds and it is quite high. Getting up there wasn't a problem, but I almost had vertigo trying to get down. No problems sleeping though, but I think that had more to do with the fact I'd just spent a sleepless night.
It's a weird experience being the only westerner in a whole bus or a train carriage. You get a lot of attention, as people are very curious as to what the hell you are doing there amongst them. I felt a bit like a star in the train, with one group of elderly Chinese men trying to 'talk' to me (1 of them spoke some English), and their wives trying to feed me constantly. We managed to talk a little bit after I took out my Mandarin phrasebook, and Mr. Wu tried teaching me to count to 10 in Chinese, but I'm hopeless. I can't for the life of me get the tones right, as was proved when I tried telling them I was going to Xi'an next. Xi'an, to my western ears, is pronounced Shi-Ann. I said it 5 times, all with a blank look, but then found it in my phrasebook. Mr. Wu took out his glasses, read what I was pointing at and said: "Ah yes! Shi-Ann! Right!". It all sounded the same to me, but obviously it mustn't have been. I am in no danger of changing careers to become an interpreter, that's for sure.
I stayed at an amazing hostel in Chengdu, so I took advantage of it and spent the first 3 days doing nothing much at all. On my first day, I met an American girl and we had ourselves a 'western' day: a mocha-choca-whacka-whatsit at Starbucks, tacos and burritos at a Tex-Mex restaurant (good food, even if her taco was identical to my burrito...) and finally 2 pints each of Guinness at the local Irish pub! Each pint cost almost 10 dollars, a third of my daily budget for China, but what the hell! It was excellent and worth every penny!
The next day my western-themed break continued, as I had dinner at KFC and went to a movie. I saw 'Forbidden Kingdom', the movie with Jet Li and Jackie Chan. In it's original form, this movie is in English with some subtitles on the rare occasions they speak Chinese. Here in China, it was dubbed in Chinese and had Chinese subtitles as well. I had to go to a 'special' viewing to get to see it with English subtitles!
The last day of my break was spent reading not 1 but 2 books borrowed from the hostel's library. Excellent.
Having just spent 3 days doing nothing, I then crammed in all the Chengdu sites during the following 2 days. I went to see the pandas at the breeding center near by, and really enjoyed that. They 'look' cute and cuddly, but they are still big enough to remind you they are from the bear family. And even if I'd have loved to have a picture of me hugging a panda, I'm just too cheap for that. Can you imagine that it cost 1200 yuan, ie about 170 USD to hug a Giant panda?Isn't that crazy? Next up was a night at the Sichuan opera, which isn't anything like I'd have imagined an opera to be. A bit of singing, a bit of dancing, some comedy, acrobatics and the piece the resistance: 'changing faces'. The performers have masks on their faces that can change in a blink of an eye. My analytical mind didn't really enjoy that part of the show cause I spent all my time trying to figure out how they do it. I didn't come close to figuring it out, so I still ended up impressed.
The final 'must-do' for the Chengdu area was to visit the Giant Buddha in Leshan. Now after more than 6 months, I've seen my fair share of Buddhas, so my enthusiasm would have been so-so had I gone on my own, but luckily I had met 2 other American girls (there everywhere these days! :-) ) and went with them. We had a fun day figuring out the local transportation, walking countless steps, wandering around without ever getting lost once, and making our way back safe and sound. Oh, and the Buddha was nice too. ;-)
Monday, April 28, 2008
I wish I were home, if only for this day!
As some of you know, at this time of the year I'm usually in full 'fund-raising' mode for the Canadian Cancer Society. Every year following my sister Julie's diagnosis of leukemia, my family and I have participated in the Relay for Life event that takes place in June.
This year, I will be far away from Chambly and thus will not be able to participate in the Relay. I am still a 'virtual' member of the 'Inseparables' team however, and am taking this opportunity to let you know about the event, and how you can pledge our team if you so wish.
Below are links to my sister Johanne's personal pledge page, as well as a link to the team's page. Take a look and see if you want to pledge anything.
Johanne's personal page:
http://convio.cancer.ca/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFL_QC_Chambly_?p=1280581&pg=personal&fr_id=2397&fl=en_CA&et=7AwKgcf8lyQXa2b_5pgBig..&s_tafId=13921
Les Inseparable's page:
http://convio.cancer.ca/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFL_QC_Chambly_?team_id=11520&pg=team&fr_id=2397&fl=en_CA&et=3FPu5DBsZxDVUlbA2hVZZQ..&s_tafId=13921
Thanks for your support!
This year, I will be far away from Chambly and thus will not be able to participate in the Relay. I am still a 'virtual' member of the 'Inseparables' team however, and am taking this opportunity to let you know about the event, and how you can pledge our team if you so wish.
Below are links to my sister Johanne's personal pledge page, as well as a link to the team's page. Take a look and see if you want to pledge anything.
Johanne's personal page:
http://convio.cancer.ca/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFL_QC_Chambly_?p=1280581&pg=personal&fr_id=2397&fl=en_CA&et=7AwKgcf8lyQXa2b_5pgBig..&s_tafId=13921
Les Inseparable's page:
http://convio.cancer.ca/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFL_QC_Chambly_?team_id=11520&pg=team&fr_id=2397&fl=en_CA&et=3FPu5DBsZxDVUlbA2hVZZQ..&s_tafId=13921
Thanks for your support!
Shangrila-di-da
Here I am on a rainy Sunday afternoon, sitting on my bed in my very noisy guesthouse, writing notes for my blog. It's not something I do often, spend an afternoon in my room, but right now, it's feeling right. I've been mostly lucky with the weather these past months, so much so that I've lost the habit gained in New Zealand of walking around in the rain. Besides, it's a good thing to try and keep up with the blog, n'est-ce pas?
The past week in China has been great. More than great actually. The places I've seen and people I've met made me thankful for my decision to come to China, but it's been more than that that has made this week excellent.
If you've read my last entry, you'll know that I somehow dreaded making the change from South East Asia to China. Leaving the relative comfort of somewhere you've come to know and heading into the unknown. But once that step was taken, it really helped me to realise how far I've come in the past 6 months. In terms of traveling savy, I'm very different from the girl who stepped off the plane in Auckland with a too heavy backpack and no idea how I was going to travel around the world. And in terms of personal growth, the changes are huge. Now, I haven't gone all 'hippy', started growing dreads (although you might think it if you saw me today, but more on that later) and go around talking about world peace all the time, but you can't help but be changed by seeing more of the world, how people live, how we are all 'same same but different'. And add the fact that, while I've met tons of people on the road, I do spend most of my time on my own, and spend most of that time thinking about different things than I do when I'm at home working, you've got the perfect recipe for change. When I think back to this time last year, when I first decided to take this trip, and the anxiety-filled months that followed, I'm just amazed at the change. But enough introspection for now...
The past week was spent exploring more of the Yunnan province, in south-west China. Dali was absolutely crazy, a tourist town filled to capacity with Chinese tourists. Think le Vieux-Montreal on the busiest summer day * 1000. That's how crazy it was. It so happens I was there during their Spring festival, so I guess that explained it. After a few hours walking around the walled city, with it's cobblestone streets and hundreds of souvenir shops, I decided to get the hell out of town and head for the mountain. There is a mountain just outside the town itself, that is quite easy to walk to, and you can get a chairlift up to the top. To give you an idea of the crowds, the 3 km walk from my guesthouse to the chairlift took my more than 1.5 hours, simply because I could walk no faster than the mass of Chinese surrounding me. And for those who think/know that I usually walk quite slowly, well, you ain't seen nothing till you've come to China. There is one speed and that is SLOW!
Once I actually made it to the chairlift, I then spent the best afternoon I'd had in a while, just walking on the mountain, appreciating the sunny day. The crowds were non-existent, with only a handful of Chinese actually venturing up the mountain. The paths were great and the views spectacular. I had an excellent day.
I have to mention that the guardian angels and lucky charms I was given as going-away presents before I left home seem to be working really well. I was walking down the street that morning on my way to the chairlift, in a less crowded part of town, when I just happened to pass by some friends I'd had drinks with the night before (the Dutch couple whom I'd crossed the border to China with). I stopped to say Hi, and just then the guy walked right passed me and started talking to a little girl. I thought it was odd, cause he was sort of talking loudly to her and was holding on to her hand, but I had no clue what was going on. It turns out the little girl was walking right next to me and had her hand inside my bag. I checked it and nothing was gone, but my camera was sort of sitting at the top of the bag, not where it usually is. If we hadn't crossed paths when we did, I would almost certainly be out of a camera right now! As for my pickpocket, she was a little Chinese girl of no more than 8 years old. She just about crapped her pants when she got caught, but I guess that come with the territory when your job is being a pickpocket...
The next day, I left my charming 1.25$/day dorm in Dali and headed to Lijiang, the next tourist destination on my path. There are buses that leave every hour from Dali to Lijiang, and it so happened that my new Dutch friends got on the same one as I. The ride from Dali to Lijiang is only about 3 hours and is usually quite uneventful, but not ours. As our bus was going up one of the numerous hills in the area, I saw that a truck was stopped about 100m in front of us (changing gears to go up the hill, I think). Our bus driver started to brake, but he must have been going too fast, cause it was obvious he was not going to stop in time. I braced myself, and sure enough, he rammed the truck pretty hard. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt, only 1 guy with a bloody finger (he was sleeping, so he didn't see it coming) and the bus driver's legs smashed up enough to be bloody. The bus was out of commission, since the steering wheel was almost outside of the bus, so we waited a little while to get another bus. It didn't take too long, they were suprisingly organised in getting us new transportation. I wonder if this happens a lot...
As for myself, I was fine, just another little bruise and scratch to add to my growing collection on my knees.
Lijiang is another little cobblestone old town, much like Dali but with more charm in my opinion. It is called the Venice of China, because of the canals and bridges running through it. It's maze-like streets make it impossible to get your bearings, and if I hadn't been with the Dutch couple that first day, I would probably still be wandering the streets looking for my guesthouse right about now. It was a nice place to visit for a day or so, with still a lot of tourists (all Chinese), but much less than in Dali.
From Lijiang, I did a day trip to the Tiger Leaping Gorge. As usual, I was stressed about the hike down and back up the gorge, mostly because it is with a group and I feel pressured to go faster. I shouldn't have worried, as I was not the slowest of the group (Yay!). The scheduled 3-4 hour walk took more like 5 hours, cause the Mom half of an Australian mother/daughter duo hadn't realised that the hike was not an easy one. The way down was fine, but we had to stop very often on the way back up, which suited me just fine. Day trips are really hit-or-miss, you sometimes get a very ordinary group and/or guide. This day trip was one of the best I've had, with a great group of people. We were 6 westerners and 3 Chinese, and it was fun to see us bond without really being able to communicate clearly. I spent most of the hike back up the gorge in the middle of the pack along with a 20-something Chinese girl, who huffed and puffed just as badly as I. These Chinese girls may be thin, but it doesn't mean they are all fit! The group was treated for lunch by an American ex-pat living in China for the past 7 years, while I was treated to dinner by 2 French women who were impressed that I was traveling on my own for a whole year. Pretty good day!
My final destination in the Yunnan province is a place called Zhondian, also know as Shangri-La. I'd heard the name Shangri-La before, but besides sounding exotic, I had no clue what it was supposed to be. It turns out there's this guy who wrote a book in the 1930's describing a place called Shangri-La, a supposed Tibetan paradise in the foothills of the Himilayas. 'They' (whoever 'they' are) have debated it's actual location for years, and decided that Zhondian is it. I'll admit the name of the place intrigued me, but I decided to take the 6-hour bus to get there because it is as close as you can get to Tibet these days, and I was curious. It is a very calm, quiet place compared to Lijiang and Dali, so I liked it a lot. I visited the largest Tibetan monastery outside of Tibet and walked around in the FREEZING cold. At somewhere around 5C, it's the coldest I've felt in a while. I was the only guest in the youth hostel (no kidding!), so I had an 8-bed dorm room all to myself. And even though they advertise 24-hour hot water showers, the whole place is unheated, so it was unthinkable of taking a shower while I was there. I spent 3 days wearing the same clothes (jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt, short-sleeved t-shirt, scarf, hoodie), even at nightime, cause they were the warmest things I have. That may explain the new 'dreadlock' look I was sporting by the time I got back from Shangrila, not having washed my hair in 6 days. May be too much information to share with all of you, but whatever :-)
I am now back in Lijiang, spending another rainy afternoon in the only Internet cafe I've found in a while. I'm a bit disappointed that I have to backtrack all the way to Kunming to take the train to my next destination, but there didn't seem to be a simpler way of doing things. I now have an overnight bus to Kunming to look forward to (not!), followed by a day of aimlessly wandering the streets of Kunming before taking a 19-hour overnight train to Chengdu. Wish me luck!
PS. For some reason, the Internet in China allows me to publish posts to my blog, but not too actually see my blog. Keep this in mind if you see weird formatting or errors... Isn't censorship fun?
The past week in China has been great. More than great actually. The places I've seen and people I've met made me thankful for my decision to come to China, but it's been more than that that has made this week excellent.
If you've read my last entry, you'll know that I somehow dreaded making the change from South East Asia to China. Leaving the relative comfort of somewhere you've come to know and heading into the unknown. But once that step was taken, it really helped me to realise how far I've come in the past 6 months. In terms of traveling savy, I'm very different from the girl who stepped off the plane in Auckland with a too heavy backpack and no idea how I was going to travel around the world. And in terms of personal growth, the changes are huge. Now, I haven't gone all 'hippy', started growing dreads (although you might think it if you saw me today, but more on that later) and go around talking about world peace all the time, but you can't help but be changed by seeing more of the world, how people live, how we are all 'same same but different'. And add the fact that, while I've met tons of people on the road, I do spend most of my time on my own, and spend most of that time thinking about different things than I do when I'm at home working, you've got the perfect recipe for change. When I think back to this time last year, when I first decided to take this trip, and the anxiety-filled months that followed, I'm just amazed at the change. But enough introspection for now...
The past week was spent exploring more of the Yunnan province, in south-west China. Dali was absolutely crazy, a tourist town filled to capacity with Chinese tourists. Think le Vieux-Montreal on the busiest summer day * 1000. That's how crazy it was. It so happens I was there during their Spring festival, so I guess that explained it. After a few hours walking around the walled city, with it's cobblestone streets and hundreds of souvenir shops, I decided to get the hell out of town and head for the mountain. There is a mountain just outside the town itself, that is quite easy to walk to, and you can get a chairlift up to the top. To give you an idea of the crowds, the 3 km walk from my guesthouse to the chairlift took my more than 1.5 hours, simply because I could walk no faster than the mass of Chinese surrounding me. And for those who think/know that I usually walk quite slowly, well, you ain't seen nothing till you've come to China. There is one speed and that is SLOW!
Once I actually made it to the chairlift, I then spent the best afternoon I'd had in a while, just walking on the mountain, appreciating the sunny day. The crowds were non-existent, with only a handful of Chinese actually venturing up the mountain. The paths were great and the views spectacular. I had an excellent day.
I have to mention that the guardian angels and lucky charms I was given as going-away presents before I left home seem to be working really well. I was walking down the street that morning on my way to the chairlift, in a less crowded part of town, when I just happened to pass by some friends I'd had drinks with the night before (the Dutch couple whom I'd crossed the border to China with). I stopped to say Hi, and just then the guy walked right passed me and started talking to a little girl. I thought it was odd, cause he was sort of talking loudly to her and was holding on to her hand, but I had no clue what was going on. It turns out the little girl was walking right next to me and had her hand inside my bag. I checked it and nothing was gone, but my camera was sort of sitting at the top of the bag, not where it usually is. If we hadn't crossed paths when we did, I would almost certainly be out of a camera right now! As for my pickpocket, she was a little Chinese girl of no more than 8 years old. She just about crapped her pants when she got caught, but I guess that come with the territory when your job is being a pickpocket...
The next day, I left my charming 1.25$/day dorm in Dali and headed to Lijiang, the next tourist destination on my path. There are buses that leave every hour from Dali to Lijiang, and it so happened that my new Dutch friends got on the same one as I. The ride from Dali to Lijiang is only about 3 hours and is usually quite uneventful, but not ours. As our bus was going up one of the numerous hills in the area, I saw that a truck was stopped about 100m in front of us (changing gears to go up the hill, I think). Our bus driver started to brake, but he must have been going too fast, cause it was obvious he was not going to stop in time. I braced myself, and sure enough, he rammed the truck pretty hard. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt, only 1 guy with a bloody finger (he was sleeping, so he didn't see it coming) and the bus driver's legs smashed up enough to be bloody. The bus was out of commission, since the steering wheel was almost outside of the bus, so we waited a little while to get another bus. It didn't take too long, they were suprisingly organised in getting us new transportation. I wonder if this happens a lot...
As for myself, I was fine, just another little bruise and scratch to add to my growing collection on my knees.
Lijiang is another little cobblestone old town, much like Dali but with more charm in my opinion. It is called the Venice of China, because of the canals and bridges running through it. It's maze-like streets make it impossible to get your bearings, and if I hadn't been with the Dutch couple that first day, I would probably still be wandering the streets looking for my guesthouse right about now. It was a nice place to visit for a day or so, with still a lot of tourists (all Chinese), but much less than in Dali.
From Lijiang, I did a day trip to the Tiger Leaping Gorge. As usual, I was stressed about the hike down and back up the gorge, mostly because it is with a group and I feel pressured to go faster. I shouldn't have worried, as I was not the slowest of the group (Yay!). The scheduled 3-4 hour walk took more like 5 hours, cause the Mom half of an Australian mother/daughter duo hadn't realised that the hike was not an easy one. The way down was fine, but we had to stop very often on the way back up, which suited me just fine. Day trips are really hit-or-miss, you sometimes get a very ordinary group and/or guide. This day trip was one of the best I've had, with a great group of people. We were 6 westerners and 3 Chinese, and it was fun to see us bond without really being able to communicate clearly. I spent most of the hike back up the gorge in the middle of the pack along with a 20-something Chinese girl, who huffed and puffed just as badly as I. These Chinese girls may be thin, but it doesn't mean they are all fit! The group was treated for lunch by an American ex-pat living in China for the past 7 years, while I was treated to dinner by 2 French women who were impressed that I was traveling on my own for a whole year. Pretty good day!
My final destination in the Yunnan province is a place called Zhondian, also know as Shangri-La. I'd heard the name Shangri-La before, but besides sounding exotic, I had no clue what it was supposed to be. It turns out there's this guy who wrote a book in the 1930's describing a place called Shangri-La, a supposed Tibetan paradise in the foothills of the Himilayas. 'They' (whoever 'they' are) have debated it's actual location for years, and decided that Zhondian is it. I'll admit the name of the place intrigued me, but I decided to take the 6-hour bus to get there because it is as close as you can get to Tibet these days, and I was curious. It is a very calm, quiet place compared to Lijiang and Dali, so I liked it a lot. I visited the largest Tibetan monastery outside of Tibet and walked around in the FREEZING cold. At somewhere around 5C, it's the coldest I've felt in a while. I was the only guest in the youth hostel (no kidding!), so I had an 8-bed dorm room all to myself. And even though they advertise 24-hour hot water showers, the whole place is unheated, so it was unthinkable of taking a shower while I was there. I spent 3 days wearing the same clothes (jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt, short-sleeved t-shirt, scarf, hoodie), even at nightime, cause they were the warmest things I have. That may explain the new 'dreadlock' look I was sporting by the time I got back from Shangrila, not having washed my hair in 6 days. May be too much information to share with all of you, but whatever :-)
I am now back in Lijiang, spending another rainy afternoon in the only Internet cafe I've found in a while. I'm a bit disappointed that I have to backtrack all the way to Kunming to take the train to my next destination, but there didn't seem to be a simpler way of doing things. I now have an overnight bus to Kunming to look forward to (not!), followed by a day of aimlessly wandering the streets of Kunming before taking a 19-hour overnight train to Chengdu. Wish me luck!
PS. For some reason, the Internet in China allows me to publish posts to my blog, but not too actually see my blog. Keep this in mind if you see weird formatting or errors... Isn't censorship fun?
Sunday, April 20, 2008
6 months down!
I am officially more than halfway through my big adventure now. It's unbelievable how the past months have gone by fast, but also unbelievable all the amazing places I've been to and people I've met. Let's hope the next 6 months will be just as great!
I'm pretty much always 1 month behind on my blog nowadays. Just when I think I'll get it under control, I'm distracted or don't have easy Internet access for awhile and get even more behind. Because of this, I've decided to skip (for now) a post on my month spent in Vietnam. Not because it wasn't wonderful or I don't have that much to say about it, it's pretty much the opposite. My time in Vietnam includes some of my best times ever on my trip, thanks to a motorcycle tour I did for 11 days. I'd have a lot to say about it, so I'll just have to get back to it a bit later.
I've now been in China for almost 1 week, and it's been filled with ups and downs. You'd think that after 6 months of traveling I'd be somewhat more confident about coming to a new country, but honestly, China scared the crap out of me. It intimidated me for a number of reasons: 1) the language barrier 2) I'd heard from others that people could be unfriendly 3) I knew almost nothing about the country. Even now, I'd be hard pressed to name 5 cities in China 4) because of 3), I wasn't even sure why I wanted to go there. Are the Great Wall and the Terracotta warriors reasons enough to go through the hassles that awaited me? But in the end, after many weeks of going back and forth, I'd finally made my decision to come here. China, here I come!
My journey into China started painlessly enough, but I'd built up such a case of nerves beforehand that I was a complete wreck. I was in now in Sapa, in the north of Vietnam, and planned to make my way into China overland by crossing the border in nearby Lao Cai. But even before leaving Sapa, things were a bit more complicated than usual. So far, I've always booked my buses ahead of time and knew the exact departure time as well as little details such as how much the bus cost and where to catch it. Not so for my first bus in China. I basically had to make my way across the border on foot, and figure out the rest once in there, since no one in Sapa or Hanoi knew anything about my destination in China. Needless to say, this added to my stress. Plus, border crossings are always stressful to me. You never know what they are going to ask you, and I'd heard that the land crossing between Vietnam and China is a bit more challenging than flying into the country. I'd also read that they can confiscate your guidebooks for political reasons, so I made sure to pack mine far away in the bottom of my big backpack...
The bus from Sapa to Lao Cai was easy-peasy (organised by the hotel) and I met a couple also headed to China, albeit the major town of Kunming, not the same place I was going. The bus driver dropped us off at the border and we went through the Vietnam exit procedures, to then cross a bridge on foot to get to the China border. Once there, we filled in a few forms, waited a few minutes and were allowed entry to China. Our luggage went threw the x-ray machines and sure enough, the guard asked me if I had any books. I tried to play dumb and took out the books I had in my small backpack, but no, he was a smart cookie. He pointed to my big backpack and asked: "Any books in there?". I first took out a small paperback, then my East Africa Lonely Planet book, hoping he would be satisfied with that. No such luck. "More books?" he asked. I reluctantly took out my China guidebook and he quickly took it away. He explained in very basic English that he was taking the book away for political reasons, something having to do with the map showing Taiwan in a different color to mainland China (huh???). He was very apologetic and said he was just doing his job, but I was a bit devastated all the same. I even asked if I could tear out a few pages, but the answer was no. I was already having trouble dealing with the fact that China would be harder, and now I have to go about it without a guidebook???
We found the bus station a few minutes away from the border and I managed to convey to someone where I wanted to go. I was pointed to a claptrap bus and was told it would leave in 30 minutes and cost 55 yuan (about 8$). Excellent, with just a minor hiccup. I have no yuan (the currency exchange in Sapa would not change Vietnamese dong for Chinese yuan). Off to an ATM that a nice gentleman said was only 5 minutes away, "in that direction" (vaguely pointing to the right). I huffed and puffed down the street with all my bags and finally found a bank at the very edge of town. I was happy that the ATM worked its magic and spat out money at me, but disappointed that the bank would not exchange my dong for yuan. I am still a multi-millionaire (in dong) as we speak. The same guy who gave me directions to the ATM was the one to point me to the (hopefully) right bus. On board were 3 people besides me: the driver, the ticket seller and 1 Chinese girl. None of these people spoke any English, nor do I speak any mandarin. It was not a chatty bus ride :-)
5 hours later, I was dropped off in the middle of a town/village, without being sure of where I was. I had the name of a guesthouse in my little notebook, but alas, all the signs are in Chinese! I went up to the only hotel I could see, and even that was hard to do. I could see the hotel but could not find the entrance anywhere. It is unbelievably hard not to be able to understand any of the signs!!! After a few minutes of fumbling, I finally found the hotel entrance (up a set of stairs and behind another building...). The hotel looked fancy, and undoubtedly above my budget, but I was close to being past the point of caring. I was warmly greeted by the front desk and told that it was 180 yuan/night (about 25$/night). I told them thanks but no thanks, it's a bit too expensive, and they offered to bring me to their cheaper sister hotel. Pretty good service for supposedly unfriendly people!
The other hotel turned out to be a very new, clean and nice looking proper hotel. It even had an elevator, which impressed the hell out of me after spending the whole of Vietnam staying on the 4th or 5th floor of guesthouses with a gazillion stairs. And as a bonus, the room was even cheaper than they had told me (80 yuan, about 11$), and I got a fancy new hotel room all to myself for the same price I was paying for very ordinary places in Vietnam. Excellent start!
I was feeling a bit better when I was settled into my room, so I decided to go for a little walk around town and get the lay of the land. 1 hour later, I was back in my room, balling my eyes out. Seriously. I'd walked around for a bit, constantly stared at, as usual. I saw a few restaurants around the village, but honestly nothing that looked remotely appetizing or even clean. I'd tried to find out how to go about visiting the rice terraces the next day (they are all spread out over 40 km or so), without any success. Even in my nice hotel, the girls at the reception desk didn't speak any English. I was tired, hungry and overwhelmed and wanted my mommy!!! After 20 minutes of my pity party, I knew I had to go down and face the world again. I hadn't eaten or drunk a thing all day (bad planning + the inconvenience of being on a bus all day), so I at least needed a bottle of water or something.
And as it so often happens, things changed in an instant. I headed to the lobby armed with a map of the terraces I picked up during my walk, ready to play charades with the girls at the reception desk. Once in the lobby, I pounced on a Swedish couple who looked friendly and competent, and started asking all sorts of questions. Within minutes, I had a clear idea of what I was going to do the next day and how to do it. I was also invited to dinner with them and other tourists they'd met earlier in the day. We had a great time and my mood was now very upbeat.
I laughed at myself a few hours later as I was going to bed. I'd survived my first day in China, which was true to form for me. I've mentioned before how I've learned to realise that the first 24 hours in a new environment is usually hard for me. I know this about myself, but I sometimes forget...
The next day was my visit of the rice terraces, which are Yuanyang's claim to fame. I lucked out weather-wise, since it was an absolutely beautiful day, without much clouds, fog or mist. The rice terraces are worthy of being a wonder of the world in my opinion. It's an amazing sight to see, and quite hard to describe. I got a few nice pictures of them, but you'd probably find some nicer ones on the Internet. But I was extremely happy I'd decided to make this detour and change my itinerary to include Yuanyang.
Since then, I've moved from Yuanyang to Kunming (the capital of Yunnan province) and Kunming to Dali (a mountain resorty type place). During this time, little events like buying a bus ticket or getting from the bus station to a hostel, have felt like the biggest accomplishments. It's hard to convey how difficult it feels for me not to be able to communicate with most people, and not to understand what's going on around you! But you do manage, even if you feel sometimes clueless.
My first impressions of China? It really feels like a different world. Yuanyang is very rural, is inhabited by mostly ethnic minorities and feels quite poor, while Kunming is a very large city that looks somewhat like any western city. Construction is in full swing almost everywhere you go, and places look like they are booming. And the Chinese are also very different from us, in many ways. The way they stare at you so intently when you walk passed looks unfriendly, but is actually not so bad. If you smile, they usually smile and laugh back, and if you don't, they just look at you until they get bored with it. Some things in China will take getting used to: - the spitting, which is very noisy, constant and done everywhere, by both men AND women - it really is quite dirty. They don't seem to care about cleanliness all that much, and the toilets are absolutely revolting. I thought I was getting used to squat toilets after being in South East Asia for a while, but they were nothing compared to China. In most places, the toilets are just holes in the cement, separated by a short wall, if you're lucky. So as you are squatting there doing your business, someone can just walk by and see everything. And since they like to stare at Westerners, it makes for a very interesting experience...
I'm pretty much always 1 month behind on my blog nowadays. Just when I think I'll get it under control, I'm distracted or don't have easy Internet access for awhile and get even more behind. Because of this, I've decided to skip (for now) a post on my month spent in Vietnam. Not because it wasn't wonderful or I don't have that much to say about it, it's pretty much the opposite. My time in Vietnam includes some of my best times ever on my trip, thanks to a motorcycle tour I did for 11 days. I'd have a lot to say about it, so I'll just have to get back to it a bit later.
I've now been in China for almost 1 week, and it's been filled with ups and downs. You'd think that after 6 months of traveling I'd be somewhat more confident about coming to a new country, but honestly, China scared the crap out of me. It intimidated me for a number of reasons: 1) the language barrier 2) I'd heard from others that people could be unfriendly 3) I knew almost nothing about the country. Even now, I'd be hard pressed to name 5 cities in China 4) because of 3), I wasn't even sure why I wanted to go there. Are the Great Wall and the Terracotta warriors reasons enough to go through the hassles that awaited me? But in the end, after many weeks of going back and forth, I'd finally made my decision to come here. China, here I come!
My journey into China started painlessly enough, but I'd built up such a case of nerves beforehand that I was a complete wreck. I was in now in Sapa, in the north of Vietnam, and planned to make my way into China overland by crossing the border in nearby Lao Cai. But even before leaving Sapa, things were a bit more complicated than usual. So far, I've always booked my buses ahead of time and knew the exact departure time as well as little details such as how much the bus cost and where to catch it. Not so for my first bus in China. I basically had to make my way across the border on foot, and figure out the rest once in there, since no one in Sapa or Hanoi knew anything about my destination in China. Needless to say, this added to my stress. Plus, border crossings are always stressful to me. You never know what they are going to ask you, and I'd heard that the land crossing between Vietnam and China is a bit more challenging than flying into the country. I'd also read that they can confiscate your guidebooks for political reasons, so I made sure to pack mine far away in the bottom of my big backpack...
The bus from Sapa to Lao Cai was easy-peasy (organised by the hotel) and I met a couple also headed to China, albeit the major town of Kunming, not the same place I was going. The bus driver dropped us off at the border and we went through the Vietnam exit procedures, to then cross a bridge on foot to get to the China border. Once there, we filled in a few forms, waited a few minutes and were allowed entry to China. Our luggage went threw the x-ray machines and sure enough, the guard asked me if I had any books. I tried to play dumb and took out the books I had in my small backpack, but no, he was a smart cookie. He pointed to my big backpack and asked: "Any books in there?". I first took out a small paperback, then my East Africa Lonely Planet book, hoping he would be satisfied with that. No such luck. "More books?" he asked. I reluctantly took out my China guidebook and he quickly took it away. He explained in very basic English that he was taking the book away for political reasons, something having to do with the map showing Taiwan in a different color to mainland China (huh???). He was very apologetic and said he was just doing his job, but I was a bit devastated all the same. I even asked if I could tear out a few pages, but the answer was no. I was already having trouble dealing with the fact that China would be harder, and now I have to go about it without a guidebook???
We found the bus station a few minutes away from the border and I managed to convey to someone where I wanted to go. I was pointed to a claptrap bus and was told it would leave in 30 minutes and cost 55 yuan (about 8$). Excellent, with just a minor hiccup. I have no yuan (the currency exchange in Sapa would not change Vietnamese dong for Chinese yuan). Off to an ATM that a nice gentleman said was only 5 minutes away, "in that direction" (vaguely pointing to the right). I huffed and puffed down the street with all my bags and finally found a bank at the very edge of town. I was happy that the ATM worked its magic and spat out money at me, but disappointed that the bank would not exchange my dong for yuan. I am still a multi-millionaire (in dong) as we speak. The same guy who gave me directions to the ATM was the one to point me to the (hopefully) right bus. On board were 3 people besides me: the driver, the ticket seller and 1 Chinese girl. None of these people spoke any English, nor do I speak any mandarin. It was not a chatty bus ride :-)
5 hours later, I was dropped off in the middle of a town/village, without being sure of where I was. I had the name of a guesthouse in my little notebook, but alas, all the signs are in Chinese! I went up to the only hotel I could see, and even that was hard to do. I could see the hotel but could not find the entrance anywhere. It is unbelievably hard not to be able to understand any of the signs!!! After a few minutes of fumbling, I finally found the hotel entrance (up a set of stairs and behind another building...). The hotel looked fancy, and undoubtedly above my budget, but I was close to being past the point of caring. I was warmly greeted by the front desk and told that it was 180 yuan/night (about 25$/night). I told them thanks but no thanks, it's a bit too expensive, and they offered to bring me to their cheaper sister hotel. Pretty good service for supposedly unfriendly people!
The other hotel turned out to be a very new, clean and nice looking proper hotel. It even had an elevator, which impressed the hell out of me after spending the whole of Vietnam staying on the 4th or 5th floor of guesthouses with a gazillion stairs. And as a bonus, the room was even cheaper than they had told me (80 yuan, about 11$), and I got a fancy new hotel room all to myself for the same price I was paying for very ordinary places in Vietnam. Excellent start!
I was feeling a bit better when I was settled into my room, so I decided to go for a little walk around town and get the lay of the land. 1 hour later, I was back in my room, balling my eyes out. Seriously. I'd walked around for a bit, constantly stared at, as usual. I saw a few restaurants around the village, but honestly nothing that looked remotely appetizing or even clean. I'd tried to find out how to go about visiting the rice terraces the next day (they are all spread out over 40 km or so), without any success. Even in my nice hotel, the girls at the reception desk didn't speak any English. I was tired, hungry and overwhelmed and wanted my mommy!!! After 20 minutes of my pity party, I knew I had to go down and face the world again. I hadn't eaten or drunk a thing all day (bad planning + the inconvenience of being on a bus all day), so I at least needed a bottle of water or something.
And as it so often happens, things changed in an instant. I headed to the lobby armed with a map of the terraces I picked up during my walk, ready to play charades with the girls at the reception desk. Once in the lobby, I pounced on a Swedish couple who looked friendly and competent, and started asking all sorts of questions. Within minutes, I had a clear idea of what I was going to do the next day and how to do it. I was also invited to dinner with them and other tourists they'd met earlier in the day. We had a great time and my mood was now very upbeat.
I laughed at myself a few hours later as I was going to bed. I'd survived my first day in China, which was true to form for me. I've mentioned before how I've learned to realise that the first 24 hours in a new environment is usually hard for me. I know this about myself, but I sometimes forget...
The next day was my visit of the rice terraces, which are Yuanyang's claim to fame. I lucked out weather-wise, since it was an absolutely beautiful day, without much clouds, fog or mist. The rice terraces are worthy of being a wonder of the world in my opinion. It's an amazing sight to see, and quite hard to describe. I got a few nice pictures of them, but you'd probably find some nicer ones on the Internet. But I was extremely happy I'd decided to make this detour and change my itinerary to include Yuanyang.
Since then, I've moved from Yuanyang to Kunming (the capital of Yunnan province) and Kunming to Dali (a mountain resorty type place). During this time, little events like buying a bus ticket or getting from the bus station to a hostel, have felt like the biggest accomplishments. It's hard to convey how difficult it feels for me not to be able to communicate with most people, and not to understand what's going on around you! But you do manage, even if you feel sometimes clueless.
My first impressions of China? It really feels like a different world. Yuanyang is very rural, is inhabited by mostly ethnic minorities and feels quite poor, while Kunming is a very large city that looks somewhat like any western city. Construction is in full swing almost everywhere you go, and places look like they are booming. And the Chinese are also very different from us, in many ways. The way they stare at you so intently when you walk passed looks unfriendly, but is actually not so bad. If you smile, they usually smile and laugh back, and if you don't, they just look at you until they get bored with it. Some things in China will take getting used to: - the spitting, which is very noisy, constant and done everywhere, by both men AND women - it really is quite dirty. They don't seem to care about cleanliness all that much, and the toilets are absolutely revolting. I thought I was getting used to squat toilets after being in South East Asia for a while, but they were nothing compared to China. In most places, the toilets are just holes in the cement, separated by a short wall, if you're lucky. So as you are squatting there doing your business, someone can just walk by and see everything. And since they like to stare at Westerners, it makes for a very interesting experience...
Thursday, April 10, 2008
AFT (Another f***ing temple)
Just kidding, of course, but that's what we started saying after an intense few days visiting the temples of Siem Reap :-)
The temples of Angkor near Siem Reap, Cambodia, were one of my "must see's" when I started planning this trip. I'd heard about this place for the 1st time in a "Making of Lara Croft" type show of all places, since part of the movie was filmed here. I then saw a documentary about Angkor and my fate was sealed! I would go there one day!
Since I was traveling to Siem Reap with Silke and Hanna, my plan was to spend the first 3 days seeing whatever they wanted to see, then take a break and go back to see more temples further afield on my own. They were only staying here 3-4 days, while I had a whole week I could give to this place (I love not having a schedule!!!).
The only way to get to the temples is to hire a tuk-tuk or motorcycle taxi, or to bike there yourself. Since there were 3 of us, it was cheaper and more practical to share the costs of a tuk-tuk. Not too mention that you'd have to pay me a lot of money to ride a bike in this chaotic traffic anyways. Our first evening in Siem Reap, after our *interesting* bus trip, we hopped in our tuk-tuk and went to view the sunset from atop a small mountain/hill temple. The 3 of us, plus a cast of THOUSANDS (mostly Japanese tourists, it seemed) watched the sun go down without much fanfare. As a side note, let me just say this: I seem to be doomed to see the most boring sunrises/sunsets at all the most interesting places. The more 'famous' the place, the crappier the sunrise/sunset. The most exciting this to happen at this sunset was me falling flat on my face yet again, just walking up the mountain...
The next day we attempted the 'small circuit', which we couldn't even finish. The temples are huge and you could spend hours at each. I took hundreds and hundreds of photos, and I've been told to keep only the 3 best of each temple. This seemed a bit harsh to me, but when you consider that I saw more than 20 temples, 60 photos of temples does seem a bit much. You'll see, you'll be saying AFT yourself after seeing the pictures. ;-)
It took 2 more days to complete the 'small circuit' and the 'grand circuit', with lots of stair climbing and Japanese tourist dodging. Of note: I yet again fell flat on my face (YES, AGAIN!!!) walking down from a temple this time. The same knee that got scraped the first day got scraped worse this time, with the added joy of a huge bruise. Anyone think I may be clumsy???
I won't really go into specifics about which temple was my favorite or what is a must see. That's left for everyone to see for themselves, cause this is definitely a place worth coming to. As I'm writing this almost a month after being in Siem Reap, I'm already wishing I could go back. I was feeling a bit 'off' when in Siem Reap, not in the best of traveling moods, so it would be good to go back again and see if I enjoy more. I'm sure I would...
Once the girls had gone, I did go back to see remote temples on my own. To do so, I had to bite the bullet and go for a new first for me: a motorcycle taxi. As you all probably know by now, I am the furthest thing from an adrenaline junkie. Just the opposite really (aka a big wuss). So it'll come as no suprise that I'd never ridden on a motorcycle, not even a scooter. The closest I came was when I was 7 or 8 and tried to drive a neighbor's moped. That ended with me dropping the moped and dragging half my body and the moped in gravel. No wonder I haven't been fond of 2-wheeled vehicules...
But when in Rome... There are about 6 billion motorcycles in South East Asia it seems, and Cambodia does have it's fair share. I couldn't bike to the temple I wanted to see (too far, too hot, too bloody dangerous, ...) and a tuk-tuk for 1 person is more expensive. So it's my cheapness that got me to hire a motorcycle taxi from my guesthouse. When I did so, I didn't expect the driver to be the owner's son, as he didn't really inspire confidence in me. He looked to be about 16 and the size of the average Canadian 11-year old, if that. That, plus the fact that the only road rules around here is that there are no rules, I wasn't really feeling great about the whole thing.
With all this in mind, I reluctantly got on the back of the motorbike and we headed off. No less than 5 times in the first 2 minutes did I almost ask the driver to stop. I was completely petrified, in actual mortal fear. Having nothing to hold on to, it felt like I would spontaneously eject from the motorbike and die a horrible death amidst the chaos of Cambodian traffic. I didn't know if grabbing on to the driver for dear life would be well received, so I tried to hold on to the seat beneath me. Besides, the driver was so tiny, I would have probably crushed him had I tried to hold on to him.
45 death-defying minutes later, I arrived safely at the temple. Never have I come so close to getting on all fours and kissing the ground. I was that happy to have stopped. As it was, my legs could barely hold me up once the adrenaline left my body. I needed a nap, or a drink, but preferably both. I got neither.
The temple was gorgeous, one of the more beautiful ones, but not big enough by half. I stretched my visit to a whole hour, and I'd been around the place twice already when my driver (aka the kid) asked me if I was ready to go. I wasn't, but didn't really have a choice.
Needless to say, since I've lived long enough to write about it :-), I survived the way back, but not without incident. The poor skinny little man/boy almost dropped the bike in front of his friends when I got on again (yes, I know, a very funny visual). He was very embarassed, so he in turn made fun of me to his other friends once we got back to the guesthouse. It's funny how easy it is sometimes to recognize that you're being laughed at, even when you don't speak the language. I said as much to the little man/boy and he at least had the decency to be embarassed. All-in-all, this hadn't been my favorite day so far, but like they say, it still beats going to work :-)
I spent the rest of my time in Cambodia visiting the capital, Phnom Penh. It's a big, sprawling place, with many tourist attractions revolving around the horrible years of war and genocide that happened in the 70's. While in Siem Reap, I'd read a book about a girl who'd survived the Khmer Rouge years, so I learned a bit about what happened and learned a lot more by visiting places like the S-21 prison as well as the Killing Fields (so called because it was the place were all but a dozen of the prisoners of S-21 were executed, plus thousands more). It's all heavy stuff, and people are still recovering from that time, so I can't really say Phnom Penh is a beautiful place in my eyes, but it is certainly very interesting. I learned a lot there.
And on a lighter note, I survived a few more motorcycle taxi rides, as well as got better at killing 3-inch long cockroaches and bedbugs in my less than stellar guesthouse. Gross.
The temples of Angkor near Siem Reap, Cambodia, were one of my "must see's" when I started planning this trip. I'd heard about this place for the 1st time in a "Making of Lara Croft" type show of all places, since part of the movie was filmed here. I then saw a documentary about Angkor and my fate was sealed! I would go there one day!
Since I was traveling to Siem Reap with Silke and Hanna, my plan was to spend the first 3 days seeing whatever they wanted to see, then take a break and go back to see more temples further afield on my own. They were only staying here 3-4 days, while I had a whole week I could give to this place (I love not having a schedule!!!).
The only way to get to the temples is to hire a tuk-tuk or motorcycle taxi, or to bike there yourself. Since there were 3 of us, it was cheaper and more practical to share the costs of a tuk-tuk. Not too mention that you'd have to pay me a lot of money to ride a bike in this chaotic traffic anyways. Our first evening in Siem Reap, after our *interesting* bus trip, we hopped in our tuk-tuk and went to view the sunset from atop a small mountain/hill temple. The 3 of us, plus a cast of THOUSANDS (mostly Japanese tourists, it seemed) watched the sun go down without much fanfare. As a side note, let me just say this: I seem to be doomed to see the most boring sunrises/sunsets at all the most interesting places. The more 'famous' the place, the crappier the sunrise/sunset. The most exciting this to happen at this sunset was me falling flat on my face yet again, just walking up the mountain...
The next day we attempted the 'small circuit', which we couldn't even finish. The temples are huge and you could spend hours at each. I took hundreds and hundreds of photos, and I've been told to keep only the 3 best of each temple. This seemed a bit harsh to me, but when you consider that I saw more than 20 temples, 60 photos of temples does seem a bit much. You'll see, you'll be saying AFT yourself after seeing the pictures. ;-)
It took 2 more days to complete the 'small circuit' and the 'grand circuit', with lots of stair climbing and Japanese tourist dodging. Of note: I yet again fell flat on my face (YES, AGAIN!!!) walking down from a temple this time. The same knee that got scraped the first day got scraped worse this time, with the added joy of a huge bruise. Anyone think I may be clumsy???
I won't really go into specifics about which temple was my favorite or what is a must see. That's left for everyone to see for themselves, cause this is definitely a place worth coming to. As I'm writing this almost a month after being in Siem Reap, I'm already wishing I could go back. I was feeling a bit 'off' when in Siem Reap, not in the best of traveling moods, so it would be good to go back again and see if I enjoy more. I'm sure I would...
Once the girls had gone, I did go back to see remote temples on my own. To do so, I had to bite the bullet and go for a new first for me: a motorcycle taxi. As you all probably know by now, I am the furthest thing from an adrenaline junkie. Just the opposite really (aka a big wuss). So it'll come as no suprise that I'd never ridden on a motorcycle, not even a scooter. The closest I came was when I was 7 or 8 and tried to drive a neighbor's moped. That ended with me dropping the moped and dragging half my body and the moped in gravel. No wonder I haven't been fond of 2-wheeled vehicules...
But when in Rome... There are about 6 billion motorcycles in South East Asia it seems, and Cambodia does have it's fair share. I couldn't bike to the temple I wanted to see (too far, too hot, too bloody dangerous, ...) and a tuk-tuk for 1 person is more expensive. So it's my cheapness that got me to hire a motorcycle taxi from my guesthouse. When I did so, I didn't expect the driver to be the owner's son, as he didn't really inspire confidence in me. He looked to be about 16 and the size of the average Canadian 11-year old, if that. That, plus the fact that the only road rules around here is that there are no rules, I wasn't really feeling great about the whole thing.
With all this in mind, I reluctantly got on the back of the motorbike and we headed off. No less than 5 times in the first 2 minutes did I almost ask the driver to stop. I was completely petrified, in actual mortal fear. Having nothing to hold on to, it felt like I would spontaneously eject from the motorbike and die a horrible death amidst the chaos of Cambodian traffic. I didn't know if grabbing on to the driver for dear life would be well received, so I tried to hold on to the seat beneath me. Besides, the driver was so tiny, I would have probably crushed him had I tried to hold on to him.
45 death-defying minutes later, I arrived safely at the temple. Never have I come so close to getting on all fours and kissing the ground. I was that happy to have stopped. As it was, my legs could barely hold me up once the adrenaline left my body. I needed a nap, or a drink, but preferably both. I got neither.
The temple was gorgeous, one of the more beautiful ones, but not big enough by half. I stretched my visit to a whole hour, and I'd been around the place twice already when my driver (aka the kid) asked me if I was ready to go. I wasn't, but didn't really have a choice.
Needless to say, since I've lived long enough to write about it :-), I survived the way back, but not without incident. The poor skinny little man/boy almost dropped the bike in front of his friends when I got on again (yes, I know, a very funny visual). He was very embarassed, so he in turn made fun of me to his other friends once we got back to the guesthouse. It's funny how easy it is sometimes to recognize that you're being laughed at, even when you don't speak the language. I said as much to the little man/boy and he at least had the decency to be embarassed. All-in-all, this hadn't been my favorite day so far, but like they say, it still beats going to work :-)
I spent the rest of my time in Cambodia visiting the capital, Phnom Penh. It's a big, sprawling place, with many tourist attractions revolving around the horrible years of war and genocide that happened in the 70's. While in Siem Reap, I'd read a book about a girl who'd survived the Khmer Rouge years, so I learned a bit about what happened and learned a lot more by visiting places like the S-21 prison as well as the Killing Fields (so called because it was the place were all but a dozen of the prisoners of S-21 were executed, plus thousands more). It's all heavy stuff, and people are still recovering from that time, so I can't really say Phnom Penh is a beautiful place in my eyes, but it is certainly very interesting. I learned a lot there.
And on a lighter note, I survived a few more motorcycle taxi rides, as well as got better at killing 3-inch long cockroaches and bedbugs in my less than stellar guesthouse. Gross.
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