Friday 25 April 2008

Spring Festival Travels 26 - Leshan 2

10th February 2008 // Day 27 // Leshan (Sichuan) --> Chengdu (Sichuan)

I was woken up very early by a rooster. If I knew where it was, I would've rung its bloody neck. What a way to be woken up. Grr. On this day we had to go back to practically the same place we'd been yesterday (more fandango with the number 13 bus) to see the Oriental Buddha Museum, where various famous Buddha sites from round China and the rest of Asia are recreated. It also contains the world's longest sleeping Buddha at 170 metres. Pretty huge, until you realise that they actually have only carved the head and the feet and then left the rest of the rocks, where the body would be, covered by thick trees. Conceivably the whole thing could be carved, but it's not. In the Oriental Buddha Museum, which is an outdoor park, we had seen most of the Buddha sites in person already, and the real thing is always more impressive. We got to see some of the Han Dynasty tombs which we'd neglected to visit the day before (very dull), and the other Asian Buddhas, which inspired much more interest in us. I am slightly worried by my ability now to distinguish between the types of Buddha: Tibetan, Thai, Sinicized... I couldn't tell you the differences, but when I see them, I know.
We got the 3 back into town, as I knew it went the way we wanted, and went to find the man who had sold me the fruit kebab the night before. I had seen him in the same spot out the bus window that morning, so I knew his haunt. First we went to our kebab seller of the night before to get lunch, and got chicken wing kebabs, lamb kebabs, and chicken 'bits' (essentially deep-fried chicken nuggets, but better). We tried out spicy fried potato kebab which was made of heaven and angels. I got five fruit kebabs from the fruit seller man, as I had honestly never tasted anything so incredible in my life. Liam got one and though he doesn't like strawberries proclaimed it amazing too. We realised that we literally hadn't eaten a single thing in Leshan that didn't come on a stick. My kind of life, that.
We got our bags from the hotel and got a taxi to the bus station. It was a different bus station to the one we'd arrived at, and a lot more efficient looking. When we'd arrived at the bus station we'd thought Leshan threatened to be a dump, but in fact I liked it so much, just the general casual, relaxed atmosphere, that it is one of my favourite places in China. Admittedly I was only there for two days, and it might get pretty boring after a short while, but I preserve the memory of it as an amazing place.
We got an express bus back to Chengdu but it still took a while. At the bus station in Chengdu (again different to the one we went from) we were pestered by taxi drivers who offered 30 to take us to the hostel we wanted, and then when we began to walk off, raised it to 60! Erm... ¿qué? We walked some way before we hailed a taxi and it was such a distance to the hostel that it actually made it past 30 on the meter. Goddammit. We got a 6 bed dorm for an incredible 15 kuai (the cheapest we've ever found in China). That's around 1 pound. We booked to see a Sichuan Opera performance that night and went to check out our dorm. It was annoyingly dark and messy but very good for just 15 kuai. The whole hostel had a teahouse sort of feel - open spaces and lots of twisted bamboo. I think it would be gorgeous in summer, but in the winter it was a bit cold and gloomy.
We tried out a recommended restaurant. Normally the restaurants we're recommended are good, but this one was awful. We ordered return to the pot meat and kungpao chicken (both Sichuan specialities) plus rice. Both the dishes lacked flavour - definitely not the famous Sichuan spice we were expecting! We get better, spicier kungpao chicken at our local in Urumqi. Our rice didn't turn up. The boss was seated next to us cooking the books and admonished the staff for leaving us unattended - they had forgotten our rice and left our tea untopped-up. But by then it was too late. The service had been unsatisfactory and we left the newly brought over rice completely untouched.
Back at the hostel, a minibus took us to the opera along with a Californian called Claire. She said she was actually British and I internally groaned and thought 'oh here we go, the typical 'oh wow, you're British? I'm an English American - my step-great-grandfather-once-removed lived next door to someone who was once married to a British guy!' but this one was genuine! She lived in Battersea until she was nine years old, then moved to California. Nice girl but she was leaving the very next morning. Another one that was teaching in Shanghai, I think they're breeding.
The opera was more like a cabaret than an opera with various performances such as puppetry, shadow-hands, a famous comedy sketch which I believe is called the Rolling Oil Lamp, plus an incredible performance on the erhu, Nolan's instrument of choice, by some expert or other. The Sichuan Opera is different from the Beijing Opera, and is famous for its Changing Faces and fire-breathing. When we eventually got to that, it was breath-taking! Especially as the puppetry expert also got her puppet to change faces and breath fire! How?!?! Just... how?! They wear masks and change the mask so quickly that you can't see it being done. We checked the internet to see how it's done, but it's actually a classified national secret and a guy that let slip was immediately silenced and got into Big Trouble so we still don't know. Liam's theory is that they pull it up from the chin strap, but who knows really. Surely letting out something that simple couldn't carry a charge of treason? It was a nice end to the day. Then to bed - sightseeing tomorrow!


The sleeping Buddha - you can see the head in the top left-hand corner, and the legs just about fit in the photo on the right.


A very Thai Buddha at the Oriental Buddha Museum.


Mmm fruit kebab - food of the Gods!

Spring Festival Travels 25 - Leshan 1

9th February 2008 // Day 26 // Chengdu (Sichuan) --> Leshan (Sichuan)

The night on the train, despite the lack of people, had been awful. I woke with a headache and feeling sleep deprived. We had recently decided to add Dunhuang (old caves) and Jiayuguan (western end of the Great Wall), both in Gansu, to our itinerary and had also planned to go straight to Leshan from Chengdu, see the sights there, and return to Chengdu. What with adding stuff to our itinerary and still thinking we had to be back to start class on February 25th, we were getting quite tight for time. We arrived at Chengdu and instantly got a taxi to the long distance bus station to get a bus to Leshan. The driver in fact took us to the tourist bus station but that was okay because Leshan was one of the destinations. Soon we were on a bus, Leshan-bound. Driving through Chengdu I got the impression it was a nice place and looked forward to seeing it for real when we returned.
When we got to Leshan we were dropped off at a bus station on the outskirts of town. It was worryingly reminiscent of Tangkou. We were surrounded on all sides by annoying hollering taxi drivers but we ignored them and headed off in the direction where the town seemed to lie. My back was having none of it though and so we gave up and got in a taxi. We had a very sensible taxi driver who upon being told that we didn't know where to go took us to a Lonely Planet recommended hotel. The prices were steep but the English-speaking receptionist, on hearing our dismay, plummeted the price down to 120 yuan per night per room. 60 each was not half as bad and we took a twin room for one night. We left immediately to see the Giant Buddha, the main attraction of Leshan and the reason we were there. They advised us in the hotel to get bus number 13, which we tried. The bus driver asked us where we were going, and when we told him shook his head. The next number 13, which we tried just in case, let us on. The same thing happened the next day; it appears that every 1 in 2 of the number 13 buses goes to the tourist sites, and the other one doesn't!
The Buddha is world record breaking as the world's tallest sitting Buddha at 71 metres. It was a climb to reach the head and we missed out on many parts of the scenic area due to time constraints, such as the temple. Though having said that, I am sick to the back teeth of temples. The views from the cliffs into which the Buddha was carved were not wonderful, but we could see the confluence of the three rivers which had at a time been so dangerous that they had inspired the building of the Buddha, whose presence would calm the waters. In fact the waste stones from the carving were dumped into the rivers, which calmed them into docile little waterways. It is hard to now imagine how dangerous they once were. The Buddha was huge but I must say seemed rather out of proportion. To walk down the winding cliff steps to his feet we had to queue and snake down at a very slow pace. But at the bottom the views directly up to the huge Buddha were awe-inspiring. His mere toe was bigger than me!
After the obligatory photos we left to go back to the hotel. We couldn't spot the bus stop though and didn't have an address for our hotel, so we ended up walking back. It was surprisingly enjoyable and relaxing, though it did rain practically the whole way back and our trouser legs were soaked through. It's weird to have any kind of precipitation living in Xinjiang!
At our hostel we regrouped and, absolutely starving, went out to find a restaurant. We went to a recommended restaurant but when we found it they said we needed reservations. On the way I couldn't resist buying a candied fruit kebab stick and I think it was the nicest thing I've ever tasted. Looking for the recommended restaurant we had gone up and down the same long street over and over again, before realising it was split into sections and the house numbers started again in each section. We passed kebab stalls several times over and after being turned away from the restaurant, we finally succumbed. The kebabs here were not barbequed on an open fire like back home (home being Urumqi) but deep-fried. I had a chicken wing in batter and a few little lamb kebabs, to stave off my hunger till we found somewhere to eat.
We walked back along the route we'd walked home along earlier, as we'd seen a few busy looking restaurants. On the way we passed another kebab seller, who was clearly a Uyghur and as we can't resist Xinjiang kebabs we stopped and got a couple from him. We greeted him in Uyghur but he didn't seem in any way surprised that we would do so! Turned out he was from Kashgar and was pleased to find out that we'd been and seen his hometown before. His kebabs, though advertised as Xinjiang style, had been totally Sichuanified.
The busy restaurants we'd seen had emptied by now and refused to serve us. Finally we decided to get street food. We found a perfect kebab stall which had an area behind the roasting fire with benches and fires and we stopped there. First we tried out a few of the kebabs: 3 lamb, 3 beef, and 1 rabbit each. The kebabs here were much much smaller than the ones we were used to in Xinjiang, but it seemed like the kind of place where you get pick-and-mix - considering the things on offer! I also got a chicken drumstick that was gorgeous once it had been on the fire, and Liam got a entire flattened bird which may have been pigeon. I tried it but it was so hard to get any meat off it we both thought it was hardly worth it. We got loads more beef and lamb to take away, plus a couple more rabbit as it had been nice. I then couldn't help but brave some huge black bugs on a stick. If the choice is there in front of me, I think it's always good to try new stuff! Back in the hostel, with Liam filming me in case my reaction was extreme, I began to eat. I had a shudder as it first touched my lips because I imagined it coming to life and crawling over my tongue, and it was one vicious-looking breed of beetle. But then I thought stop being such a wimp, it's clearly dead and cooked, so I took an entire big bug off the stick and ate the whole thing. Extremely crispy, but with very little flavour. After a bit of convincing, Liam tried one too but was not a fan of the texture of antennae and crunchy legs in his mouth. Fair enough! On a full stomach of bug, we went to bed.


The now peaceful confluence of three rivers.



Me and the world's official biggest sitting Buddha. Or, his head.


At the bottom of the Buddha, looking up in awe.

Mmmm kebabs! And so many to choose from.



Starting off with some simple tasty rabbit.

Bugs, oh yes. Nyam nyam nyam.

Spring Festival Travels 24 - Xi'an 4

8th February 2008 // Day 25 // Xi'an (Shaanxi) --> Chengdu (Sichuan)

For this, our final day in Xi'an, we had very little left to do. We got up and showered and had breakfast. Liam had beaten me downstairs and greeted me with the news that his camera had been stolen. He was surprisingly calm actually but obviously seriously annoyed at this turn of events. What was worst was not the camera, which is just an (albeit expensive) material possession, but the loss of his memory card, which had all his photographs from the travels stored on it. Fortunately Liam and I often take very similar photos, so he had that to fall back on if nothing else, but it's not the same and he had some better quality or different photos than mine that I had asked to borrow from him later. Liam worked out that his camera must have been taken on the busy bus of the day before. He'd been holding the overhead rail with one hand and was protecting his bag with his other, and had completely forgotten that he'd left his camera in his pocket. A seedy-looking man on the bus had bumped into him a little too much but Liam had thought it was just the movement of the bus. A real shame.
We left for our massage. We were about 5 minutes late already and had decided to check out before going off. There was a huge queue at reception as a tour group were just checking in (I HATE tour groups), so I went out to meet the masseur, Hans, as agreed. He was practically hiding round the corner but I saw him and told him what was going on. He asked very nervously if we'd told the hostel about the massages. I said no and he seemed pleased and relieved. After finishing checking out, we went back outside and he walked us to the massage parlour. It was all very cloak and dagger, and I started to get suspicious until he told us that he was obliged to hand over to the youth hostel 50% of his takings for each massage booked through them. Which is frankly unfair. 50% is a bit steep! If that was all true, then I'm glad I didn't tell the hostel. Particularly as later on he told us about his baby son and how he was saving all his earnings for his son's education. He seemed like a really nice guy and we found out he'd lived in Urumqi. However the old myths had been perpetuated and he thought all Uyghurs were thieves, and that their kids didn't go to school but just learnt how to be thieves and went to cities all round China to steal. Oh yeah, and of course, they all like to dance. His very first comment really took me by surprise though: "Oh yes, I lived in Urumqi. The Uyghur women, they are so very beautiful." VERY strange coming from a Han! Liam told him he had his camera stolen. Hans said: "I think it was a Uyghur." Liam told him he KNEW it was taken by an old Han Chinese man on the bus. This surprised the masseur but he seemed a lot more open to new arguments than the average intolerant Han, and I hope we left him with a slightly different view on the Uyghur people as we jumped to their defence instantly. This seems to be our role almost constantly these days - I am fed up of prejudiced people, when almost all the Uyghurs I have ever met have been extremely friendly and trustworthy.
Seeing as we hadn't paid through the normal channels we were worried about being ripped off, but aside from not telling the hostel, it was all above board and Hans was a really nice guy. Liam chose the Tui Na massage which improves circulation and helps head and backache. I chose the slightly longer and much more extreme Hong Kong style, which involves cracking of various bones and back stamping, which I was really excited about. Hans did me and Liam's was done by a woman who we think is Hans' wife.
The massage itself was incredible. It was hugely painful to the extent that sometimes I could barely take it and I spent a lot of the time wincing, but it felt like a good pain, like it was getting right to the root of my aches. It was all-over body and Hans somehow managed to use every single part of his body to massage mine. The back stamping was in fact better than any massage I've ever had with hands, and not at all painful. I asked Liam how he was doing it, was he holding on to anything, and he said no, he was just balancing on my back. Amazing. He also expertly cracked my neck and spinal column, like my osteopath when I'm having back problems. My body felt worked but healthy. Liam's massage, being shorter, had finished but the woman offered him free cupping, so he tried it. At the end of my massage I couldn't help but try it too. First they rub deep heat onto your back and then they attach little plastic cups and suck them into a vacuum so your skin is pulled up. This supposedly releases toxins. Then you're left for a while, and after a bit they pop the cups off. The back ends up with raised lumps all over it, but it doesn't especially hurt. We were told we had no toxins as our backs were just red and not darkened. I find it hard to believe somehow!
After our massage treatments walking felt easy and comfortable. We went next to get Liam a new camera. He had just bought the last one in China a few months previously, so it really was a shame. He bought one identical to the stolen one. Next stop was Starbucks. We were both relaxed after our treatments and could barely be bothered to stand. Liam managed to though and went off to buy souvenirs while I stayed for a chocolate volcano cake. I went down to the market to look for him, but I couldn't find him and as I didn't fancy buying my souvenirs all alone, I returned to the hostel to see if he'd turn up. I was playing around on the internet when he walked in, so we went back out together and got some Terracotta Warrior figurines and other general tacky rubbish. I also got me a blown sugar rat on an ox's back. In case anyone doesn't know, the Chinese divide their time cycles into 12 year periods, each year being represented by a different animal. To decide the order, 13 animals decided to race over a river. The clever rat realised it was never going to win, so jumped on the back of the ox, and the cat tried the same technique. The rat pushed the cat in the water, so it never came in the order. Incidentally, according to legend, this is why cats chase rats (for revenge) and why they don't like water! As the ox came up to the water's edge, the rat jumped off his back and won. So the rat heads the list of animals. The order is rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, sheep, monkey, rooster, dog, pig. So for the New Year all the sugar blowers make rats on top of oxes, and I bought one. They had been tempting me for days. I was disappointed that they tasted not like sugar, but like licquorice, which I don't really like.
Before going out we tried to get our laundry back so we could pack it into our monster rucksacks. They wouldn't give it back without the receipts, though they hadn't told us we needed them before. Cue frantic search for little torn piece of paper. Our stuff was soon ready to go, and we stopped in the street to get a fried omelette thing and takeaway Starbucks for the wait at the train station.
The wait for the train was not long, and it was nice to find that we were alone in our sleeper compartment. We had the two bottom bunks, which are more expensive. On the sleeper train from Wuhan to Xi'an I had also been on the bottom bunk and realised why they are pricier - because getting in and out of them is so convenient! As per usual, they turned the lights out without ceremony, though this time at something idiotic like 9.30pm. Ah well, if the Gods tell me to sleep, then I sleep : )


Hong Kong style back stamping. How he balanced is beyond me!


Cupping - during.

And after. Check out those beautiful red welts.



Me and Hans. If you see this man, get a massage from him! He's the dude : )


Blowing up a sugar rat at Beixuanmen in Xi'an.


Nyam nyam...

Spring Festival Travels 23 - Xi'an 3

7th February 2008 // Day 24 // Xi'an (Shaanxi)

A true disappointment of a day if ever there was one. It being Spring Festival and New Year's Day, we were hoping for a display of Chinese tradition similar to the one I saw in Chinatown in Newcastle the year before (dragon dances, lion dances, the works) but it didn't seem forthcoming. The night before we'd asked the female receptionist where was a good place to go to see the traditional New Year stuff, and she looked completely confused then finally suggested KTV (karaoke, Chinese style). Needless to say, KTV was never going to be on the cards for us. In fact, we thought she wasn't understanding our question, as her English was not very good. Instead, we'd ended up going out with everyone from the hostel, which worked out well for New Year's Eve, but wouldn't cut it for New Year's Day. I dragged myself out of bed relatively early given the time I'd got in it, and Liam and I went to breakfast and handed over more laundry. The Dutch girl had said she wanted to come out with me and Liam to look for New Year's celebrations, and Heidi and Lucy said they were going to wander the streets so we all planned to go out together. It was taking a while to get everyone to go out, and Marian was clearly itching to get going as it was her first day in Xi'an. Liam and I also really wanted to get a move on. We went down to reception to ask about New Year's stuff and this time it was the male receptionist, who had excellent English, and he explained that there wasn't really anything planned on the day, as most people just spent New Year with their family. He said we could try the Big Goose Pagoda or by the south gate of the wall, where we had in fact seen a stage set up the day before.
While we were talking to him we figured we could perhaps book a massage for the following day and then when Marian starting asking him questions, we perused the poster advertising all the different types of massage offered by a local masseur in conjunction with the hostel. To our surprise a man suddenly popped up next to us and said he was the masseur and discussed the massage types with us. He said if we wanted one we should meet him tomorrow outside the hostel and seemed to be making quite the effort to keep it on the downlow. Nevertheless, we agreed to meet him at 10am the next day, before our train.
We walked out of the hostel without Lucy and Heidi because they were just taking too long! We crossed the road and I saw a man doing portrait sketches. I decided to get one done. Halfway through the police turned up and everybody scattered, just like they do in Uyghur areas when there's a Han police patrol. My artist just took me to a nearby doorway and carried on. It was taking rather a long time so Liam and Marian went to Starbucks round the corner. They left me to be drawn which I always find quite a strange experience; slightly too intimate and yet also distant. A woman turned up to gaze on, as is to be expected really, and the artist asked if it looked like me. The woman very enthusiastically said it did, and upside down it looked like it did, but when he turned it round to show me I was fairly disappointed. I have never looked so Russian before in my life! I guess all white people look the same to them.
After that Liam turned up and said he'd bumped into Lucy and Heidi in Starbucks, so we went off to meet them. They seemed pretty intent on sitting around though. After a few hints, and some cheesecake, we finally were on the move again, this time as a group of five. The ground next to Starbucks, the site of a massive Coca Cola monument, was coated in firecracker remains. Guess we missed all that when we were in the club! We followed what seemed to be a pre-planned trajectory towards the Islamic Snack Street and market area. Liam and I had definitely decided to buy tack but thought we'd do it later when we had more time, and instead wanted to get to the Big Goose Pagoda to see if anything was happening.
Finally bored of the meandering pace, I said quite firmly "we're going to the pagoda now, are you coming?" They all decided yes and Liam and I decided the best way was by bus. Clearly used to using taxis all the time, the two Australians followed us like sulky little children, though Marian was obviously glad to be doing something at last. After checking 3 nearby bus stops, the fourth proved lucky and we caught a bus to the pagoda.
The grounds were full of people milling around, and it some ways it was like a fair with stalls set up everywhere. We saw a man shouting away on stage and wandered over but disappointingly he was just promoting his company by throwing jeweller's boxes containing tacky fake jewellery at everyone in the audience. We moved on to the Ci'en Temple, where the Big Goose Pagoda is situated. It was much like any other. On the way down to it, we passed more stalls and people flocking around statues of famous Chinese sages and touching the statues head and then their own to symbolically get some of the wisdom. We also saw a lot of kite-flying - this seems to be the done activity around national holidays. I finally got another rice grain made up with my name, but it was done a bit haphazardly and I wished I still had my Pingyao one! Upon entering the temple Heidi and Lucy went straight to a food stall to sit down and eat, and we left them to it. Liam and I climbed the pagoda, and Marian preferred to stay outside and explore a bit more. The pagoda offers panoramic views of the city of Xi'an, but sadly the city is now just like any other big Chinese city and therefore full of unsightly pollution and skyscrapers. The Big Goose Pagoda is supposed to symbolize and encapsulate Xi'an, but perhaps it is because I am just bored of pagodas now that it didn't have such an astonishing effect on me?
To be honest, we were now fed up of Heidi and Lucy, who just didn't seem interested in anything. Now, we don't care if people aren't interested in the same things as us, but Liam and I operate a pretty tight schedule and like to see as much as we can, and frankly we were being slowed down. I wickedly devised the plan of leaving them (I think that actually this was the best idea for all concerned) and so we did. Upon leaving the grounds we felt liberated at last! Clearly Liam and I are not sociable travellers. But it being New Year's Day, we were still on a desperate search for lion dancers! We caught a busy bus to the south gate and just peered through the archway (going through costs money y'see). One look was enough for us to know it was deserted. We walked back to the hostel and then ran into the others, who didn't seem at all bothered that we'd left them. They had of course taxied it back to the hostel.
The rest of the day was spent as follows: we all sat around at a big table and ordered different dinners, got food envy and wished we'd ordered each other's dishes, considered it, and then finally restrained ourselves. Exhausted, I went upstairs and had yet another lovely hot shower then read in bed, finally falling to sleep stupidly early. I wasn't the only one! Practically everyone in the dorm crawled into bed in the next half hour! What a bust of a New Year! Apparently the Chinese do all just celebrate with their families, which made me think that Christmas is pretty similar - it must suck for an outside traveller who has nobody to celebrate it with. Give me Newcastle's Chinatown New Year any day! I'll go back next year I hope, and get the New Year that I didn't get over here.


Having my portrait done on the streets of Xi'an.



Just a bit of firecracker debris then?


Beixuanmen by day - as packed as the night time!


The fair at the Ci'en Temple.


Touching the wiseman's head - there was quite a crowd waiting for their turn!

Kites! The national holiday pasttime. This is just a small section of the sky which was busy with kites of all shapes and sizes.



Me with Xi'an's famous Big Goose Pagoda.


The view out to the north of Xi'an from the Big Goose Pagoda.

Spring Festival Travels 22 - Xi'an 2

6th February 2008 // Day 23 // Xi'an (Shaanxi)

Liam managed to get up early and get breakfast but I yet again just couldn't wake up. Eventually Liam woke me up by shining a light in my eyes. Charming eh ; )
It was about 11. On the hostel's information we got a bus to the train station where bus number 309 left for the Terracotta Warriors. The Terracotta Warriors, also known as the Terracotta Army, are unique through the world. When the original Seven Wonders of the World were decided on, the Terracotta Warriors hadn't been found, but when they were discovered in the 1974 by a group of peasants digging a well, they were designated the Eighth Wonder of the World. All this time they were buried underground and peasant farmers used to bury their dead directly on top of them, without any idea of what they were digging above. The army was put there to guard the tomb of Qin Shihuang, the first emperor of the Qin Dynasty. Once they were finished and put in place to represent defence of the area, they were completely concealed. The warriors, over 2,200 years old, each stand 1.8 metres tall (taller than me) and each one has a different facial expression, hair and clothes. There are approximately 8000 warriors and horses (the horses have different facial expressions too!) They say there is a strong possibility that each one was made in the likeness of the sculptor or of real-life soldiers. The warriors were made of local clay and once they were fired, they were painted, though most of the colour has faded away now. The site boasts the earliest brick wall made in China, and the emergence of chrome-plating technology, which wasn't invented in the western world until 1937 by the Germans. And all this time the Chinese had already had the forgotten technological skill! And the reason it was forgotten? On the emperors orders, anyone who was involved in the construction and artisanry of the Warriors was buried alive in his tomb. Lovely. Archaeologists are still to this day uncovering more and more.
On the way to see the Terracotta Warriors we passed by an Egyptian Sphinx and pyramid, which were rather incongruous considering where we were. We think they were the Mausoleum of Qin Shihuang, which lies 1.5km away from the site of the Terracotta Warriors. We never had a chance to visit for ourselves though. At the Warriors museum we were hassled a few times by people wanting to be our tour guides and insisting that the size of the exhibits necessitated a guide. In retrospect I'd say they were wrong, as the signs were very straightforward and explanatory.
It was surreal to finally see the warriors, this Eighth Wonder of the World. They were certainly worth the wait. There's something astounding about looking down into a pit of a 2200 year old clay army. The work that must have gone into it! The respect for the emperor! I know that they have sent some of the warriors from the army over the world (I vaguely remember my mom saying she'd seen some in Malta or somewhere, and Catherine's mom has just seen some in London) but I can guarantee that you won't get that same breathtaking sensation that you feel when you see them in their rightful place, still steadfastly guarding their emperor. It was similar to the feeling I got when I caught my first sight of the Great Wall of China. You just can't beat seeing it in the flesh!
Pit 2 had been relocated to the exhibition hall as it was being excavated. We wanted souvenirs but the prices were phenomenal and we knew we could get the same things in town anyway, for much cheaper.
We returned on the bus and next got a bus to what we hoped would be near Xi'an's south gate. The old city wall at Xi'an has been preserved and is the most impressive one in China. Xi'an was the world's first city with 1 million inhabitants, and the wall is pretty huge as it had a big city to go round! As it happened, the bus did go near and we had to walk through an ancient cultural street to get to the gate. Most of it was closed, presumably because it was New Year's Eve. We climbed the south gate and looked around at the 'scenery' but it wasn't really up to much and so we got a bus back to the Bell Tower, which we wanted to climb, as well as the Drum Tower. However both had closed just minutes earlier, much earlier than the usual time because of Chinese New Year.
Defeated, we returned to the hostel. I ate a western meal of lasagne, hot chocolate and cheesecake, and then went to get showered. By the time we were back downstairs, the bar and common room had started filling up as evening approached. A Cantonese Dutch girl had moved into our dorm and we sat with her and sipped cocktails. She taught us new levels of haggling: The Colgate Smile, where you just smile and smile with as much teeth as possible, The Stubbornly Stupid Westerner, where you pretend like you can't understand the prices they are offering you and just repeat the price you want until you annoy them so much they give in, and The Hello Kitty, where you play as cutesy as possible and hope that they just can't get over the cute foreigner. It has a 90% success rate. Eric had in fact said that one of his haggling techniques was to say "but look how cute I am" either in Chinese or Uyghur and pull a puppy dog face. He also claims excellent success rates.
The hostel was very sociable and reminded me of fubar as well, as all the younger expats in the Xi'an community came in too, just for the craic. A few hours later we were talking and playing games with a large group of about 20 of us, including some real characters! We moved onto Salsa, a local club recommended by some of the expats. As we walked there we could already see fireworks being set off and everyone we passed was in a jovial mood. Inside the club there was a very busy, festive atmosphere. I danced a lot with the Dutch girl, whose name may have been Marian (every time she told me I couldn't understand her accent. It started with M. This is all I know for sure.) At the turn of midnight there was a countdown just like normal New Year. The night was brilliant fun. We finished up by walking home. I was proud that I knew the way home (it was literally just a straight line) but Marian didn't - someone with a worse sense of direction than me! Not as bad as Heidi, who had to get a taxi home, but didn't know how to say Bell Tower (or anything, for that matter) in Chinese, so had to wait for a bar worker to help her. We stopped off for McDonalds, which was not nice at all and not anything like a British McDonalds either. But it still hit the spot at 3 in the morning.


Me in Pit One with an army behind my back!



Liam et moi et some Terracotta Warriors or summat...


Some of the them don't have their heads, sure, but they're still standing after all these years!


Really mindblowing to see. I recommend.


Xi'an's city wall was kitted out for New Year.


The South Gate. Look how tastefully it is decorated; so understated. It is the Chinese way.


These were the views of the city available from the South Gate of the wall (this is facing west). Note the river, still totally frozen through.

Friday 18 April 2008

Spring Festival Travels 21 - Xi'an 1

5th February 2008 // Day 22 // Xi'an (Shaanxi)

Most of this day was spent on the train. My sleep had been fitfully disturbed but by day I was suddenly imbued with the ability to sleep like a baby and did so until midday when I went to see Liam in carriage 12. We talked for a bit and then I went back to carriage 16 to read. Our destination, Xi'an, the capital of Shaanxi Province, is really important to Chinese history and was the capital of many dynasties. It used to be called Chang'an. Xi'an has a very central position in China and is one of China's hugest (domestic and international) tourist destinations. A lot of people come to China on a Beijing-Shanghai-Xi'an package. The main attraction here is the Terracotta Warriors. More on those later!
The train had been very delayed when we had got on it but had caught up to only 25 minutes late by our arrival into Xi'an. Several parts of the station were cordoned off and we accidentally joined the queue for entrance to the waiting room instead of the ticket office. We realised our mistake when we reached the head of the queue and the guard helpfully informed us: "this is the train station". Really? Dash it! I thought it was the local swimming pool!
We found the right queue and bought our tickets on a sleeper to Chengdu for the evening after New Year's Day - the 8th. Then we tried to get a taxi to our hostel but they appeared unflaggable for some reason so we found a bus to the Bell Tower. Our hostel, Bell Tower Youth Hostel, was just around the corner from the stop. The hostel was a busy one and we got beds in a 10-person dorm. 3 beds were already taken by two Australian girls called Lucy and Heidi who had been teaching in Shanghai and were now finishing up their time in China with a trip to Xi'an, and Zack from Guam who was travelling alone and had been doing so for several months. He had been right through Europe, and even though I have covered a lot of China now which is quite impressive to those who haven't travelled much, I still felt the twinge of jealousy at his travelling experience. Inter-railing here I come! The three of them went out and we were left to unpack the necessities (I HATE living out of a bag) and sort out some laundry. We took showers at last and slowly got ready to go out, and by the time we were acceptable to leave night had fallen and we were hungry. We walked to Beixuanmen Islamic Snack Street, which is right next to the Drum Tower (anyone with any knowledge of Chinese city layout will know that the Drum Tower is invariably just down the road from the Bell Tower). The street is packed with Hui people. The Hui are of the same ethnic group as the Han but are Moslem. Their main region is of course Ningxia Hui Autonomous Region, but as Shaanxi borders Ningxia, the capital Xi'an is also awash with Hui people. The street we were walking on is basically on the surface just a tourist trap, but if you turn off onto some of the smaller streets then it is obvious that people make their lives here. It is very close to the Great Mosque which is the centre of life for the Hui minority. The traders here were selling all manner of food items and souvenirs, and the street was packed with food stalls, local people, and a muddle of tourists. We tried the local speciality, yangrou paomo, which is soup with mutton and bits of bready pancake soaked in it. Quite nice to begin with but they gave us chopsticks to eat it with, which was slow going scooping out the mutton and pancake, and the pancake began to disintegrate into flour, rather ruining the soup. We were full up anyway, it is a very hearty dish! I bought some dragon's beard (candy made out of flour) from a sweet stall, but to be honest it was vile. That was all we had the time and energy for, and so we returned to the hostel.


The Bell Tower lit-up at night.


Beixuanmen Islamic Snack Street, absolutely chockablock with people.

Some of the stalls with a huge variety of snacks and meals for sale.



The Drum Tower near the Islamic Snack Street.


Yangrou paomo, mmm.

Xi'an is famed throughout China for its snacks. This is one of the sweet stalls with loads and loads of mysterious goodies on offer.

Spring Festival Travels 20 - Wuhan

4th February 2008 // Day 21 // Wuhan (Hubei) --> Xi'an (Shaanxi)

I could barely awaken myself on this day; I think the travelling and constant province hopping was catching up with me. When I eventually got up, we took our bags to Hankou station to leave them while we were being tourists. Liam vaguely remembered thinking that the sites we wanted were in Hankou as well, but I didn't think that was the case and it turned out not to be so. We definitely liked Wuhan but one of the tedious things about it being three cities were the bridges being the only connection between them. To control the situation, the municipal government have put into place a strict traffic system concerning the bridges. On alternating days, only cars with odd numbered final digits on their number plates could legally cross the bridge, and vice versa. We got to Hankou from Wuchang with no trouble. If the tourist sites had been in Hankou, then no problem. But they were in Wuchang (Wuchang, by the way, is the site of the Wuchang Uprising, where Sun Yatsen kick-started the revolution that created the Republic of China. Just so's you know.) and today was an even numbered day. Naturally, then, every single even-numbered taxi was either already in Wuchang or flagged by someone else wanting to get there. A driver at the train station had offered 90 kuai to get to the Yellow Crane Tower, but we turned him down. When we FINALLY got a taxi, it was only 25, but my, did it take ages to find one!
We felt that for once we could relax on our speed tourism because we had loads of time, so we determined to look around Snake Hill Park, where the Yellow Crane Tower is situated, as thoroughly as possible. The Yellow Crane Tower is a famous landmark in China, though it has actually changed pretty drastically through the dynasties. On entering the park we witnessed a bit of a fight; the people behind us had tried to get in on student tickets but didn't have the student documents, and the guard was having none of it. Cue high-pitched Chinese-style screaming match for an inordinate amount of time.
We indeed did look around thoroughly, until we realised it was nearing 5pm and therefore closing time. We wanted a picture made out of our names, as on entering the park we'd seen a stall that offered this (in the ancient street in the park's complex), but by the time we left the stall had packed up and gone. We were disappointed but figured we'd find something like it elsewhere. Being bad tourists and having spotted a Starbucks in Hankou we decided to take a break there. There are very few tourist sites in Wuhan; one is the Yellow Crane Tower, and two others are streets that 'come alive' at night, so we still had time to kill until nightfall. To avoid the taxi dilemma we caught a bus that went over the bridge, and hunted out the Starbucks. To our dismay, it was a new store. The opening day? Tomorrow. Gutted.
Starbucks was in quite a westernized complex and next to it we found an import store, not unlike the one in Youhao Supermarket, but far superior. It even had Kellogg's cereal! I restrained myself to Lindt Lindor chocolate and Walker's shortbread fingers and triangles. I struggled past the imported toiletries (how I miss them). In the cafe there, I had a pizza-like pastry and a raspberry danish, neither of which were fantabulous but closer to the real thing that some items I've had the displeasure of tasting in China. My stomach started to kick up a fuss at this point but in true masochistic style, when we left the store and passed a Pizza Hut, we couldn't resist going in. We had to wait to be seated, Pizza Hut in China being what it is, but when we got in and ordered our usual Hawaiian they brought over pineapple and pepperoni instead, yuck. I ate about two slices before my stomach gave up and I had to run to the toilet and vomit copiously. AGAIN. For god's sake.
Neither of us were then in the mood to go hunting for these streets, which could have been in Hankou or Wuchang (though not Hanyang, that is the industrial section of town) so we retired to the train station. At the station, a family started talking to us (mostly the three men, plus the older drunken man). They asked us one of our stranger questions yet: "do you know where you are now?" Erm... in China? In Wuhan? In Hankou? In a train station? In a waiting room? Sitting on a chair? We had no idea what answer they were expecting so we answered both Wuhan and Hankou Train Station. They seemed pretty delighted with the answer so I suppose we guessed correctly.
Our train was due at 10.12pm but it was really delayed. I guess we were much closer to the scenes of destruction by the winter snow seeing as we were pretty far south compared to our other destinations, and so the trains were messed up. We got on just after midnight. For the first time, Liam and I were split into different sleeper carriages. A young man had been laughing with us at our frustration at the train's delay and I placed a bet that he'd be next to Liam. I don't know where I get my psychic ability from... but it's sometimes startlingly accurate. He was in the next bed along, albeit split by a thin compartment wall. The people in my compartment (each compartment is split into 6 beds) seemed alright but stayed up for ages talking. I have got much better at sleeping with noise and light and it didn't really bother me that much. I got to sleep sometime on the way to one o'clock in the morning.


A sample of Mao's calligraphy in the Inscription Pavilion in Snake Hill Park. Now is it just me, or does that look like scrawl?



View of the Yellow Crane Tower amongst the trees.


In the background is the Yellow Crane Tower, and in the foreground is the two ton original bronze top of the tower (it burnt down in 1884 and this was all that survived).


The view from the top of the Yellow Crane Tower in Wuchang over the bridge into Hankou. Note the mighty Yellow River as well.

Spring Festival Travels 19 - Luoyang 2

3rd February 2008 // Day 20 // Luoyang (Henan) --> Wuhan (Hubei)

We managed to drag ourselves out of bed and out for 9. We'd wanted to leave earlier than that but had both had such a terrible night's sleep that it just wasn't going to happen! Some ghoul in the pipes had been clanging all goddamn night long. We got out and didn't get to say goodbye to our roommate, who we'd barely spoken to, because he was gone. We never did find out what nationality he was - it kills me! Possibly Spanish.
We put our bulky bags into left luggage and got a taxi to the Longmen Caves on the outskirts of town. The taxi was overpriced but as we were both knackered with a pounding headache we just didn't care! The caves numbered into the thousands, but in terms of area they don't actually cover that much, and so owing to our speed tourism and extra power-walking because we were worried about missing our train, thinking thousands of caves would take hours, we actually finished really early. The caves are worth seeing; if you have a choice between the Longmen Caves and the Yunggang Grottoes, pick the Longmen Caves. The people that did the Yunggang Grottoes moved down to Longmen when their capital changed, and carried on with their cave-carving project. By the time they'd got to Longmen, their technique was much more refined and that is obvious. Incidentally, the reason it is called Longmen (Dragon Gate) is because there is a river overshadowed by mountains on either side (into which they carved the Buddhas). An emperor with a rather over-active imagination once said that the mountains looked like a formidable entryway, the sort of which a dragon would come bursting through.
As we had finished so early, we had time to get into another over-priced taxi and go to see the White Horse Temple, which is not actually in Luoyang, but in White Horse Temple Town (original name, that). The temple is the oldest temple in all of China but to our chagrin it had been destroyed and rebuilt completely in the Tang Dynasty. Still old, then, but not that old! It is still honoured as the earliest temple in China so I am glad I had the chance to see it. Having said that, it was difficult to feel any enthusiasm for it as we were so exhausted and had seen so many flippin temples! The same could be said for caves actually.
After the temple we scurried back to our taxi. The driver had agreed to wait for us for not much more money and we knew no other way to ensure that we'd get back in time for our train. We did of course make it. We had no seats but on the train one of the compartment doors opened in such a way as to create a little den that Liam and I appropriated for the entire journey. I wrote my diary whilst perched on my bag, and then ate instant noodles for dinner. Instant noodles and train travel go hand in hand in China. The noodles I ate were actually ones I'd bought in Shenyang in Liaoning Province, so they came a fair way!
Wuhan City is unusual in that it is made up of three cities: Wuchang, Hankou, and Hanyang, which are split up by rivers and connected by bridges. Our train pulled in at Hankou. We instantly bought night train tickets to Xi'an for the next day and then got a taxi to our planned YHI hostel in Wuchang. We had to cross the Yangtze to get there and the city seemed to have a really nice atmosphere.
The hostel's receptionists were a European girl who seemed Polish or Czech, and a British guy. It was strange after so much Chineseness! I think the idea was to have a really friendly hostel and they chatted with us a bit but for some reason it had a very awkward atmosphere. Too forced, perhaps. We got a dorm room but there was nobody else there. Because of the vicious and unexpected winter, the water pipes were completely frozen through, so we couldn't shower and used bottled water to clean our teeth. So to bed.


The river and cliffs that give Longmen its name.



The main attraction at the Longmen Caves, Fengxiansi. Plus me.


Little grottoes all over the cliff-face. Formerly they all had Buddhas carved into them, but now a lot have been destroyed or taken.


A really rather scary-looking horse at the White Horse Temple.


The White Horse Temple grounds (it seemingly split into two parts: the temple itself, and then through a separate gateway you get to this bit.) One of the prettiest temples yet.

Spring Festival Travels 18 - Shaolin Temple

2nd February 2008 // Day 19 // Luoyang (Henan)

The above itinerary says Luoyang, but actually we spent nearly the entire day at, or travelling to and from, the Shaolin Temple. Our trusty guidebook informed us that buses to the Shaolin Temple left regularly from the long-distance bus station, so we walked down the road to get a taxi there. The driver very honestly informed us that the long-distance bus station was right next to the train station, which we knew was just down the road, so we thanked her (like all the taxi drivers in Luoyang seem to be, she was female) and walked there instead. At the station we were instantly approached by people saying "Shaolin? Shaolin?" like a broken record. We ignored them and instead went directly to the ticket office. The very helpful (ie. sullen and bored) attendant merely gestured into the distance and said "you get them over there." At which point the 'Shaolin?' people showed us their coach, which, surprise surprise, was in the exact direction the attendant had gestured. Thinking we had no choice, we got on their minibus. A man came up and said in English that it was 100 kuai each to go to the temple and back. Obviously we weren't impressed at the inflated price and let him know so in Chinese. Immediately on hearing us speak Chinese he explained, now using Chinese, that because it was off-peak season, he had no choice but to charge that price, but with the same breath halved the price to 50 each. We decided 25 each way was not such a bad deal, and we still thought we had no choice, so we grudgingly handed over our not-so-hard-earned cash. But then he took us off the bus and walked us up the road to a different bus station, installed us on a public bus and told us that there was a return bus at 4, a kung fu exhibition at 2 and that if we wanted, we could come back tomorrow instead. We naively assumed that as we'd paid 25 each way we'd have a pre-arranged return, or that our receipt would cover any return transport. Fools. I did actually begin to wonder at this point how we'd get back, but I thought I'd just go with the flow (I hate that phrase, grr).
The journey to the temple was not long, but started with a bit through some country fields which only had mud tracks to go along. This would be fair enough (I'm not a road snob haha - you can't be really in China) as the bus was the exact size to fit along the track, but there were two obvious problems. The first was that some of the tracks were raised pretty high. I looked out the window and occasionally there was a good 3-4 metre drop directly to my right. The second was that if something came the other way, we were up the proverbial without a paddle. And things came the other way fairly regularly. Cue frantic reversing, manoeuvering etc etc. I thought we were going to fall down the cliff face several times. All in all highly amusing, in a sort of hysterical 'we-might-actually-meet-our-end-on-this-death-trap-of-a-bus' way. We also passed through several more of the bustling rural villages we were getting so accustomed to seeing. The places were probably a lot nicer-looking and less dismal than normal as they were all decked out in red for New Year, and all the stalls were full of door-hangings and firecrackers for the run-up to the day. As per usual, people were getting on and off the buses where they liked, so it was clearly a public bus that we were on as opposed to a ferry bus to the Shaolin Temple. Just to temper my enjoyment at quite a pleasant journey, the woman in front of me spent the entire bus ride vomiting out the window at regular intervals, so that the wind splashed it all back onto my (very firmly closed) window. I was waiting on tenterhooks for it to splash back through her open window into my face throughout the ride.
I know I've explained the attraction of the Shaolin Temple before but allow me to refresh your memory. We had seen the stage show of the story of kung fu in Beijing back in August, and later discussed the Shaolin Temple in class. Since then, we had made it our pretty firm plan to get to Shaolin Temple if nowhere else in China! The monks are incredible, I have never seen people do such gobsmacking things with just their bodies before, and the weapon use is spectacular. Jackie Chan trained at the Shaolin Temple when he was younger, for a short while. It is well-known that he does his own stunts, so picture Jackie Chan in the middle of some cheesy but amusing slapstick martial arts film for a moment. Now consider that he only trained there for a while, and these monks have been there their entire lives. What they can do make Jackie Chan look like a stumbling unco-ordinated toddler. Incidentally, just in case any of you care, Jackie Chan, who is everywhere on advertising in China, is half Mongolian. Or perhaps a quarter. I always forget. Every time me and my Mongolian mates see him advertising, I am proudly informed of this fact. The Mongolians are very proud people when it comes to honouring their own people. : ) You should see how they revere Genghis Khan. Oh and wolves. They are really into their wolves.
Anyway I hugely digress. So we were very excited to see the place. The monks channel their extreme devout Buddhism into martial arts, most specifically wushu, a refined type of kung fu. Wushu started as a series of stretching exercises to help the monks after they had been in the same position meditating fr hours on end. It soon grew into a defensive practice. They also practise the art of qigong, which is controlled breathing to channel the spirit.
The Shaolin Temple itself is a typical Buddhist Temple in most respects, with a few differences. Firstly the path up to the temple was lined with little green boards staked into the ground with sweet messages like "green, source of the life" and so on. Quaint. Also there were allusions to kung fu everywhere, as one might expect from the place which is the origin of kung fu! There were statues and wall murals and so on of men in various kung fu stances and fighting poses. The temple seemed to have more monks wondering around than the average temple, and they all seemed a lot younger and a bit more in touch with the world as we know it. They probably see a lot more tourists than some of the other places - the Shaolin Temple is a major Chinese tourist destination because of the prevelance of kung fu. We saw the temple and then noticed a little side door which we are glad we went through as it went into a little courtyard, around the entire edge of which were statues of monks in a variety of fighting positions. It was here that a little old man started talking to me. He asked me what country I was from and seemed absolutely bowled over with joy when I said England. He proceeded to tell me for the next few minutes how wonderful England was (I can live with that) though he'd never been there. Then he insisted on having his photograph taken with me and Liam. I think we made his day. No, his week.
After that we went to the Forest of Pagodas. This too was a bit different from the norm. It's basically a big park with hundreds of pagodas in it. All monks of note had a pagoda built in their honour when they died, and monks for generations after have paid their respects to them at the respective pagodas. There is also the common pagoda, to honour every monk that has ever passed through Shaolin. We saw this pagoda, plus the very first one ever made, and a few others of note as well, but we had nowhere near enough time to look at them all.
We wanted to see the performance which we'd been told was at 2pm but was in fact at 2.30, and walked up towards the performance hall. We stopped on the way to get a poem made out of our name (narcissists, the pair of us. You should see the amount of utter rubbish we've acquired because we can put our name on it). It's in traditional characters though, so we can't read it. We'll get Zona (Liam's Taiwanese (therefore uses traditional characters rather than the mainland standard of simplified) tandem partner) on the job : ) I really liked the man's pen, I think if I had a pen like that my characters might look a little fancier! I asked him where he got it, thinking it might be special, and he said "a shop in Luoyang" so I'm guessing it's not that special after all. I'll be on the look-out. I was amused that at this stall, they began as per usual by asking where we were from and then had a conversation amongst themselves about how they didn't know where the UK is. Bless 'em. We told them it was in Europe but this didn't seem to clear the matter up as far as they were concerned; they wanted distances and flight times as well.
It was still a bit early for the performance and we hadn't yet eaten, so we went up to the main entrance section where we'd seen a dining hall. This dining hall, we were sure, was the one where everything was vegetarian and you were served by monks, but we weren't allowed to pass back through the entrance/exit until we wanted to completely leave the temple; to get back for the performance we'd have to buy a new ticket! The guard told us there was a place to eat next to the performance hall. Back we went. We were still half an hour early but we didn't think this would be enough time to eat, so instead we wasted some time buying more tack (T-shirts, postcards and scented prayer beads. Yes, I know I'm likely to never use prayer beads, but you don't know. I may have a spiritual epiphany. And when that time comes, I will be glad my beads are scented.).
I also really needed batteries for my digital camera, which eats power like Pacman. Further down the path, they'd quoted me 40 kuai for 4 batteries, which quite frankly is a shocking rip-off. I am fed up of being over-charged because I'm a white foreigner. Idiots. Don't they know that if they ask for prices like that, they're not going to make ANY money off of me? I laughed in their face at that and walked off. They were calling lower prices out at me and finally dropped to 20, but I was not going to be making any purchases of people that were that dishonest. I bought some off the lady in the T-shirt/prayer bead/postcard shop for 20. The normal price is 8, but I was getting desperate! I'd already asked around all the shops by the performance hall and nobody even had any!
The centre is a wushu training school next to the performance hall. We could see little boys practising their wushu there, which was pretty impressive. These were just day students though, not the real deal. We went into the hall to see one of the shows, which were on almost every hour, not just around 2 as the bus man had led us to believe. The show involved demonstrations of the various weapons used by Shaolin monks, including whips, sticks, daggers, swords, and numchaks. There were also even more spectacular things: the breaking of iron bars with the forehead, and the breaking of wooden spears using the throat alone to push on the sharp spear tips until the pressure snaps them, for example. Also a younger monk contorted himself into the weirdest positions - since watching the DVD I bought, I have learnt that this is called kid's kung fu. I'm not sure why, because it is done by the adults and kids alike. The most incredible was the monk who, using qigong meditation, chanelled his power into his arm. Meanwhile a different monk carried around a plate of glass and tapped it in front of us so we knew it was real. I thought at first he was just going to put his fist through the glass, which I thought was not a good idea even for a monk because they'd be blood, but then they gave him a needle. An ordinary sewing needle. They held a balloon behind the glass. I got the point. Just as I was leaning over to say to Liam "erm... they are aware that this is physically impossible, aren't they?" while fortunately still, captivated by the show, keeping my eye on the proceedings, when the monk threw the needle. It pierced the glass and popped the balloon. Now I know that I find it hard enough to pop a balloon with just a needle by itself, so I laugh to think how pitiful my attempt at the same thing would be. If you throw a needle at a balloon it just glances off, unless it is thrown with huge strength, accuracy and technique. But he threw it through GLASS. They brought the glass back round again to show us the hole which was really small; he hadn't splintered the glass but had just gone right through it with deadly accuracy. Absolutely astounding. I have DVDs if anyone at home fancies borrowing. Okay, I tell a lie, I have a VCD. They are much more popular over here than DVDs... but it should work in your DVD player.
After the performance we left the hall walked around the centre to the exit when I happened to glance back into the hall and saw that there was a gaggle of women excitedly posing with the monks. So we went in to have one taken as well. My camera was on the wrong setting (I curse myself for this) so the picture is quite bad, but Liam's was good. Liam's, though, disappeared when his camera was stolen. We weren't sure how best to approach the monks to ask for a photo as they were still on stage thrashing around with weapons. I heard a woman next to me say that she found on of the monks really attractive (bear in mind that he was about 17 and she was approaching her mid-thirties) but she marched right up to him and gave him her namecard. The Chinese are really big on namecards. What a monk is going to do with her namecard I don't know, but whatever. She got her photo. So I followed suit. Feeling delighted after having got a photo, we went off to get food.
The restaurant didn't seem open but when we asked them they said they were so we ordered shredded potato (nummy) and something called one heart facing Buddha which turned out to be a ring of tofu strips surrounding broccoli (not half as nummy). After eating we knew it was time to get back as apparently our return bus was at 4. First we popped to the toilet. To get the toilet door to shut, I had just that morning slightly had to lift it so it didn't catch on the floor. No problem. This time round I went in the same cubicle and had to do the same thing. But this time when I opened it, it fell right off its hinges and smashed onto the ground with a resounding crash. Oh dear. There was nobody around and I didn't know what to do, so I just scarpered. So if you are the toilet attendant from the Shaolin Temple, I am truly sorry; it was me that left a door lying on your freshly mopped floor. : (
We'd kind of gathered by this point that there was no specific return bus, so when we reached the road, after avoiding a child beggar (child beggars tug my heartstrings, but I have a policy of not giving money to beggars unless I'm in a particularly generous mood, because I never know how honest they are, and I also feel that once I start, I'll never stop! I can't help every beggar in China! Plus the child's mother was hanging around and I hate that; they use the cuteness and pitifulness of the child to get more money for themselves) we followed the example of a group of people who we overheard saying they were going to Luoyang and hailed any minibus that drove past. The first one, though it said it was going to Luoyang, was not actually going that far. But the second one was, so soon we were back in Luoyang. We had to pay 15 to get back as well.
After putting our souvernirs on our beds in the hostel we went out to find a much-needed wang ba (internet cafe). We found one just next to Carrefour. After a while on the computers catching up with the rest of the world, we left and stopped off in Carrefour to buy snacks for the next day's journey to Wuhan. Liam was hungry but I was not especially so he decided he'd eat instant noodles for his dinner. This was until we found French bread baguettes. Which tasted like the real thing. Well, like Tesco's version of the real thing. That became my dinner and then my breakfast too. We were both exhausted so after nibbling on our baguettes for a while, we went to bed. Early again. Partaay animals.


One of the little green signposts: "The flowers is loveable,asks you not to injury" I wish the Chinese would work out that they need gaps after commas!



The gorgeous settings of the Shaolin Temple Scenic Area.


Me at the entrance to the temple. The characters on the gate read, right to left: shao lin si (si is temple).

The temple.


Kung fu poses.


Just a few of the hundreds of pagodas in the Forest of Pagodas.


Us with a young Shaolin Monk.


The sun beginning to set over the mountains in the Shaolin Temple Scenic Area.