One otter around the world

Another chapter ends

2011-06-01T02:06:00.000-07:00

Total traveling miles: 64,174

As I write to you now I find myself sitting within the dinning room of my home. On my laptops screen I seem to have my blog open and a post waiting to be filled. But how am I supposed to end one of the best years of my life? How do I draw this chapter to a close? After a lot of pacing, sighing and staring out of the window I've decided to try and write some useful tips for 'would be travelers' who, right now, are flicking through guidebooks trying to workout which part of the world they want to travel to. First of all I would like to recommend a book – called 'The Backpackers Bible' – which I read before starting my trip.

To do this blog justice I've broken it down into the below topics:

What is traveling?

Where to go?

Budgets and money

What to pack?

Be prepared

How to stay safe?

Keep organised

Looking back would I have changed anything?

How much have I spent?

What wasn't I expecting?

Have fun

So where's next and when?

What is traveling?

I suppose the best way to start is to tell you that traveling is NOT a holiday. Not only is the amount of time, and amount of money, different but, I believe, there are three aspects to traveling, two of which a short holiday can never fulfill:

Sightseeing

Gaining an insight into a countries culture

talking to other travelers

Of course it would be stupid to visit Cambodia and not see the temples of Angkor; of course the terracotta warriors are a 'must see' and hiking through the Rockies is a highlight of any Canadian trip. All of these tourist destinations are called 'tourist destinations' for a reason and some of my most favorite memories involve these sites. However some of my biggest expenses, and use of time, have been on 'must see tourist sites' that have left me disappointed. As you travel you'll come to realise what is worth seeing and what isn't; this list differs for everyone as we all like different things. At the start of my trip I paid to enter museums, zoo's and aquariums however, over time, I realised that these for me never became a lasting memory. Don't feel as though you must see something everyday; due to the length of time you'll be away you cannot afford to see sites all the time. Walking around a city, with no particular location in mind, or visiting places who's 'tourist pull' maybe low, or none existent, might be a better use of your time. It's these places that will ultimately give you the insight into the countries culture that so many tourists aim for.

Being the only tourist within a city is no bad thing and it's at these times that observing becomes crucial; walk around, sit in a restaurant over looking the main street or wonder through the main market and you'll witness the local population perform daily routines that may seem alien to you. It's at these times that questions will come into your head and trying to understand why the locals do things the way they do is ultimately one of the most rewarding aspects of traveling. Handy wrote that 'culture is the way we do things around here' and the meaning of that statement will become clear as you wind your way through the world.

On a holiday you may find yourself zipping from place to place conscious of fitting in as much as possible within the boundaries of your 'leave'. Traveling allows you to take your time and there's nothing wrong with filling your days sitting in a bar and observing. My own travels have taken different forms depending on the size, cultural aspects and time within a country. For example; within New Zealand and Canada I moved quickly (spending no more that three or four nights in a town) to try to see as much as possible as these countries culture is similar to my home. Within South East Asia I found myself spending six or seven nights within a town; the number of tourist attractions may have been less but the culture was so different that observing how things are done took time.

Finally I'd say that meeting other travelers is a major aspect of traveling that you would never experience on a holiday. Sharing a dorm, with like minded people, allows you to find out about their home countries (providing potential future destinations), find out about places that no guidebook lists', find out about the cheapest eats and the cheapest ways of getting around. Spending many a night playing cards, within the common room of a hostel, talking about individual experiences has been very rewarding.

Where to go?

Always a difficult choice. For most travelers 'where to go' is usually dictated by their budgets; I would say that this is not a wise method. First of all read a few guidebooks, look at photos and watch TV programmes; think about what you enjoy doing and work out where to go from that. I had five countries that, for one reason or another, captivated me that I built my traveling route around:

Canada (nature)

New Zealand (nature)

Japan (history)

Vietnam (Top Gear Special)

China (history)

With these five countries as my core I built a logical route around the world adding the USA, Fiji, Australia, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Laos and Cambodia. For different reasons I've loved each country though the amount of time spent in each could have been better proportioned.

My biggest advice to 'would be' travelers is to, for now, forget about money and concentrate on the country(ies) that you feel would give you the most enjoyment. Read about those places, look at photos and watch programmes and then, when decided on the location, look at how much you're likely to spend a day. There is no 'official' amount of time you have to be away for; I'd say that a minimum of three months will give you a good feel into traveling but, if you fancy traveling around an expensive country, don't be put off that your planned six month trip might have to be cut down to four.

Another important thing to mention is that distance doesn't matter; traveling around neighboring countries can be just as rewarding as traveling thousands of miles and my next big interest is in Europe and my home country.

Once you've decided where you want to go, and for how long you can afford to stay, the hardest work is over.

Budgets and money

Something that I haven't been very good at. The first thing to do, in regards to budgets, is to set a daily amount for each country; most guidebooks will give you a rough estimate but you must take into account the age of the book and expect things to have become more expensive for every year passed. Another good thing to do is to go on the internet and work out possible costs from there. Before entering Canada I went on the Canadian Greyhound website to look at the cost of coach journeys from 'x' to 'y'. I also looked into hostel costs and some attractions. Once you have a daily figure in mind this will allow you, once traveling, to benchmark yourself and see how you're doing; every week I would work out my average spend to see how I was doing.

Try not to make your budget too tight or enforce it too strongly; there will be times when you need a little 'comfort shopping' after a horrible train journey, or a bad experience, and always counting the pennies can ruin a trip. Having said that the old phase 'look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves' rings true in traveling; you wouldn't believe how much you can save if you downgrade to the twelve bed dorm (saving you 50p) and if you opt for the less expensive meal. 50p here and 50p there really does add up.

Personally I like to walk and so I've spent very little on local transport. I do, however, like my food ... especially cake. I would think nothing of spending £3/£4 on a slice of cake, and a hot chocolate, if my taste buds tingle afterwards. The thought of having a lovely slice of chocolate cake has got me through numerous nights and bus journeys.

To summarise; the important thing about budgets are:

try to work out a possible daily amount

try not to make it too rigid

balance yourself between traveling on a budget and having fun

Keep checking how you're doing

In regards to money make sure you keep an 'emergency credit card' somewhere away from your wallet. If my wallet became lost, or stolen, I had a spare credit card to get me through for a while (kept with my passport). Take more than one card - which allows the withdrawal money – with you and make sure that you mix the providers (for example one visa card and one mastercard) encase ATM's, or shops, don't accept your first choice of payment.

In most countries cash is king; this allows you to easily see how far your money is going but, once withdrawn, carrying a large sum can seem daunting. Before a withdrawal I would have a list of items I needed to purchase; for example a train ticket, a souvenir or some toiletries. I would wait until I'd withdrawn a large amount before purchasing all these things to bring my cash level down to a safe level. Having said that, it's unwise to spend a lot of money as soon as you enter a country. Give yourself time to work out the true value of food, travel etc or else a 'bargain', in your previous destination, might be expensive here.

One, off the topic note, if you want to purchase a souvenir but worry about the weight, post it home. I'm still waiting for parcels from China and Vietnam but everything I've posted has arrived home. Plus if sea mail is chosen it's not too expensive.

What to pack?

A difficult decision to make. What you pack will depend on three things: where you're going, your interests and how much you can carry. If you're spending six months in Fiji then you might be able to leave your thermals at home; if you're heading to Russia then maybe the thermals might be a good idea. Always research the weather of your intended country; the northern parts of South East Asia (Laos and Vietnam) can be extremely cold and I've seen numerous people freezing in a t-shirt.

If you're planning on trekking for days, visiting remote villages or spending time within poor countries then it would be unwise to travel without a decent medical kit. Paper is heavy so limit yourself on one novel and a guidebook; most hostels have a 'book swap' section.

Most of your bag will be filled with clothes; remember that you're traveling and do not need to be fashionable (try to avoid 'named brands'). Also, if you're heading to South East Asia, you have to cover your shoulders and knees when visiting temples. Two weeks of clothing, I feel, is the correct balance between weight and continual washing. I took:

1x waterproof coat

1x fleece

1x beanie hat

1x baseball cap

3x t-shirts

2x long-sleeved shirts

1x pair of 'quick dry' trousers

1x pair of trousers with 'zip-off' shorts

1x pair of knee length shorts

7x pairs of socks

7x pairs of pants

Do not take jeans as there are heavy and a pain to dry. Shoes are the most important piece of clothing you'll take with you. Time is not wasted when purchasing footwear and getting it right is crucial. I went for a pair of 'Merrill approach shoes'; half trainer, half hiking boot, these lightweight, waterproof boots have been perfect. All the way through my travels, in any terrain, these shoes have felt comfortable and prevented my feet from blistering. Looking at them now they are full of holes but they are the heroes of my travels, taking me where I wanted to go without complaint. My sandals, on the other hand, weren't that comfortable; I'm not really a sandal person so maybe its because I haven't worn them much but they never felt right and would rub against my toes. Another important thing to do is to wear in your shoes before you go. If you decided that they aren't right purchase another pair; getting your shoes 100% correct is not a waste of money. If you take nothing from this post please chose your shoes carefully … have I stressed this point enough?

The rest of your baggage depends on your interests. For me this blog and photography were two important aspects of my travel and so I took a netbook (which, considering how much free wi-fi there is within Asia, has saved me a fortune), a Nikon SLR and a full length tri-pod with me. These three items have been heavy but worth carrying. I would also recommend bringing a compass; mine has helped me many times, most of which have been when hostel directions have instructed me to 'head south'.

Speaking of weight check out how much your bag weights by putting it on; as a rule of thumb if you can walk, with your pack on, for around forty minutes to an hour then you should have no problems. Making sure that the weight is evenly spread, within your pack, will make it more comfortable and putting things back in the same place will allow you to find possessions when all the lights, within your dorm, are out.

For a good kit list please read The Backpackers Bible.

Be Prepared

Read, read and read again. Read guidebooks, read blogs, read travel articles and get a good knowledge of how the country your visiting operates. From cultural taboos, to the weather to medical facilities you need to be prepared for anything the country can through at you; the beginning of guidebooks are especially good for this.

How to stay safe?

This is a huge topic therefore I've split it into the below sub-topics:

Food safety

Possession safety

personal safety

scams

Food

Whether its a restaurant or a street food stall the appearance of a food outlet has little to do with the quality. Once your meal has a arrived make sure that its piping hot; if the meat seems cool it's better to leave it than risk being ill. Salad is no safer than meat as the water used to wash it can be harmful. If you order tea make sure that the water has been boiled. Basically the hotter the food the better. If the meal isn't supposed to be hot cut into the middle, of any piece of meat, and make sure that its cooked all the way through. Anything deep fried should be fine and if an important day is coming up (for example sightseeing the temples of Angkor) I'd recommend eating fast food to make sure that you don't become ill.

Drinking coke with a meal is a wise choice; coke can destroy teeth and clean coins therefore it can also kill any bug within your stomach. When dining in a restaurant, for the first time, I'd usually order a coke with my meal; if all is well the next time I visit I'd have whatever drink I fancied.

Be careful of dairy products, salads and water. Purchase only brand name ice creams, check salads for water and drink only bottled water. It's not really needed but I used drinking water when I cleaned my teeth and even when I needed water boiled.

Possession safety

As you walk around a city try not to show off. Avoid wearing brand name clothes and, if you have an expensive camera, take the photo before concealing your camera once more. Use locks on your bags and walk on the pavement as far away from the road as possible (to avoid bag snatching). Keep your possessions in different places; my camera was in my bag, my wallet was in my front pocket (never my back) and my passport was stored within a concealed pouch along with a spare credit card.

Within hostels keep your stuff locked and tidy. I purchased a 'pack safe' net that could be placed around my bag if no locker was provided. Try not to show where you keep your wallet, phone etc whilst you sleep and make sure that no one is watching as you input your number combination into your pad lock. Number padlocks are always better than key padlocks encase of loosing said keys. Most hostels have a safety box which, personally, I rarely used. It's true that if your laptop gets stolen from your bag your insurance company might not pay if there was a safety box available, however some of the hostels I've stayed in looked a little dodgy. Don't leave money within your hostel room.

When traveling keep your possessions on you. If you need to leave your seat (to go to the toilet) do it whilst the vehicle is moving as that means no one can leave, or board, whilst you're away. Night travel is the worst; once again I would use my 'pack-safe' netting to lock up my bag with my possessions inside. Within South East Asia I've been told that some long distance buses hide people within the luggage compartments; there's nothing you can do about this apart from making sure that anything valuable is kept with you. In all honestly I'd avoid night travel as much as possible within poorer countries; most people argue that it saves on accommodation but I counter that by saying the view of the surroundings is worth the cost.

A final important message; keep your passport and bank cards safe at all times. Replacing either of these will be costly in both time and money. Keep checking that you know where they are and always keep them on you.

Personal Safety

When walking always make sure that you know where you're going; before leaving your hostel try to make a memory map for example, “walk past two roads then turn right, fifth street on the left”. Looking like you know where you're heading will make you less of a target. If you do get lost, and need to check your map, do it discreetly; if a change in direction is needed do it quickly. Try to stick to main roads as much as possible, especially at night. When dark try to keep to streets that are well lit and with plenty of traffic; if at all possible walk at night only in a group. The safety of a city cannot always be judged on how affluent the population is; when I was in 'Hoi An – Vietnam' a man shouted at two local girls, on bicycles, when they almost hit us. We were in the road, it was our fault, however tourism is so important that the population cannot afford anything bad to occur to any tourist. Finally if you don't feel safe out at night then there's no shame in returning to your hostel before it gets dark.

Personal safety within your hostel requires a little observation. Are there live wires anywhere? Are there screws sticking out of the floor? Does the door lock? Where's the fire escape? Simple questions like this that you'll answer without realising.

Personal safety on transport is a little out of your hands. Apart from choosing a seat that's properly bolted down, and wearing a seat belt if ones provided, there's little you can do to affect the manic driving you seem unable to believe. In those situations it's best not to think about it and looking out of the window.

Scams

There are a lot of scams out there which will leave your wallet empty and a bitter taste within your mouth. Most relate either to someone coming up to you in the street or local private transport (taxi's, tuk-tuks etc). Best thing to do is to walk, or take the local bus, around a city as both would avoid any potential transport problems. If someone approaches you in the street always keep asking yourself 'what do they want'. If someone asks to practice their English it's up to you whether you agree or not however, if they recommend going to a cafe, don't go. The price will be inflated and you'll end up paying hundreds of pounds, for tea, with your new friend nowhere to be seen. If you do want to go for a drink you recommend the place; McDonald's, or any fast food place, may not be the most comfortable but its the safest and easiest to find. Personally I gave both local transport providers, and students, a firm 'no'; it may sound horrible but it kept me safe.

Keep Organised

You will not believe the amount of receipts, directions, train tickets and other bits of paper you'll accumulate over your trip. Once a piece of paper is done with throw it away; I can see it becoming an annoyance if, with five minutes until departure, you can find only old train tickets instead of the one you need.

Looking back would I have changed anything?

I would have changed the allocated time for each country; I spent too long within South East Asia and, even though two South East Asian (SEA) weeks equal one Japanese or Kiwi weeks (due to cost), I would have removed six weeks within SEA and put two more within Japan and and another within New Zealand. Having said that, this change would have meant that I wouldn't have traveled with the same groups.

How much have I spent?

Taking into account my equipment, my European tour, my North American tour and my Australasian and Asian tour I think I've spent in the region of £21,000.00. It may seem a lot but in reality it's less than the cost of most cars and I certainly think the money has been well spent.

What wasn't I expecting?

Just how tired I got; I couldn't believe how tiring traveling was and, if you're not careful, you'll burn yourself out. There's nothing wrong booking into a hostel with nothing planned other than sleeping and playing cards. Believe me, there will be a time when doing nothing seems like the best thing to do.

Have Fun

For most the opportunity to travel only occurs once so enjoy it. If you plan to travel with a group make sure you do everything you want to, even if it means leaving the group for a couple of days. Enjoy a few nights out but don't waste this opportunity sitting at the hostel bar every night. Keep your mind open and smile when your train is four hours delayed, try to learn as much as you can and come home with as many stories as possible.

So where's next and when?

Where is easy; for me I want to explore my own country before visiting Ireland, Finland, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Germany, Romania, Portugal, Spain in fact all of Europe. When is the difficult question; currently I'm broke and jobless. Once I've found a job – and once I've paid off my debts – I'll start traveling again but I have no idea when this will be. You can rest assure though, even though I'm currently at home this one otter will be back around the world … at some point!

Toodle Pip!

The Matt Awards

2011-06-01T02:01:00.000-07:00

A bit like the Oscars but much more important 'The Matt Awards' put into context the best of the best. Looking for the country with the best beaches or the best food? Then look no further. This hasn't been an easy blog to finalise; many a Chinese train journey has been spent, with pen and paper in hand, making alterations to the finalists ... but below are my best three...

People

In 3^rd position are the Japanese. Extremely helpful, polite and patient they're able to mix new scenarios with their old customs and beliefs. I never felt in danger and I was never ripped off; they would make every effort to guarantee that I was well, happy and enjoying myself.

In 2^nd position are the Canadians. The only people who, when I was unable to find my hostel, would walk me to it. The Canadian's are lovely, laid back and very honest. It was a joy speaking to them and, every time I meet some on my travels, I was reminded of their generosity.

There could only be one nation that could ever win this category and that was the Fijians. Unbelievably friendly their laid back attitude makes Fiji what it is. For me the people were the best bit of this country and it's such a shame that most live in poverty.

Fittest women

In 3^rd position are the ladies from New Zealand. It must be all the 'outside activities' but the female Kiwis seem to be in pretty good shape. The only problem was that, as they jogged into the distance, I never had the stamina to catch up and make sure that they weren't a tourist.

2^nd Position goes to the ladies of Canada. Amazingly beautiful, kind, honest ... though a little mad, these women were stunning and spending the day on the beach, or hiking around a national park, always brought pleasant sights that you weren't expecting.

In 1^st place – by a long way – are the women from Japan. I never found a minger; their attire was usually a tight top, short black skirt and knee length boots (no matter the weather). I never tired of taking a walk around town and it was always a pleasant experience.

Mountain Ranges

In 3^rd is the Tiger Leaping Gorge, China. The worlds deepest gorge is surrounded by huge jagged peaks that stretch on for miles. The views, and the scenery, are incredible plus the whole gorge can be walked within two days but it's better to spend your time - spend three or four days - and admire the power of nature.

2^nd place goes to Franz Joseph in New Zealand. Being able to walk up mountains, either side of a glacier, gives you unbelievable views. The mountains form an intriguing back drop to the small town and I loved every moment whilst I was there.

1^st Place had to go to Jasper National Park within Canada. Take the gondola up Mount Whistler and enjoy the panoramic view. During my trip there have been countless times that I wished I was back within Jasper.

Lakes

In 3^rd comes Lake Wanaka in New Zealand. The fact that this lake is a five minute walk away from the center of town makes it accessible. You can walk around most of the lake however it's huge; if your not into walking then grab a drink and sit on the grass bank overlooking the water with the mountains in the background.

2^nd place goes to Lake Tekapo in New Zealand. With the church perched on the edge of the lake, it must be one of the most photogenic spots within the world. I spent a couple of days sitting and admiring the view.

In 1^st place is Lake Agnes within Canada. Due to it's bigger sister – Lake Victoria – lying below this lake is hardly mentioned; however the two hour hike – up the mountains - is worth it for seeing the half frozen lake with the tops of mountains performing a barrier. A definition of beauty.

Beaches

The Pacific Rim National Park in Canada takes 3^rd spot; Tofino has some beautiful beaches, with more just a bike ride away. Being located in Canada they can feel a little cold however, as a beautiful scenic spot, they are worth seeing.

2^nd place goes to the Coral Coast on Fiji's main island. Located in the south the waters are crystal clear, warm and full of life. Once you're tired of snorkeling walking up onto the hot sand, surrounded by palm trees, and finding a shady spot to read a book and consume a beverage is bliss.

1^st place goes to the Yawasa Islands of Fiji. Pick anyone and you'll find a white sandy beach with crystal clear waters. Being small islands means that very few people will be around to spoil the moment.

Road Trips

The Saskatchewan province of Canada gets 3^rd place. The 'land of the big horizon' is well named as you stare at the panoramic view, from your coach window, at the endless fields of wheat. I never got bored of the site.

2^nd goes to the Northern mountains of Laos. The driving was a little dodgy but the view didn't disappoint. The tropical mountains stood covered in greet vegetation of all types; the trip flew by as I kept my face pressed against the glass.

The Icefield Parkway in Canada comes in 1^st; it's said to be one of the worlds most scenic drives and it lives up to that perfectly. Every view, from every angle, is one of beauty and you certainly don't want to be driving or you'll miss out. The road can be completed within a couple of hours however spend a couple of days and take in it's full beauty.

Boat Trips

Ha Long Bay in Vietnam takes 3^rd place with it's award winning limestone peaks. Due to the fog the view wasn't that great but you could see the potential if you had a clear day. If you find yourself within Vietnam this is not to be missed.

The southern waters of Alaska, USA, take 2^nd spot due to the wildlife. Whales are just the start and with glaciers falling into the waters it's a superb place to spend a day.

The winner is the ferry journey along the Alaskan, USA, north-western coast. Being able to sleep outside watching the sun go down, and then rise again in the morning, is a moment I'll never forget. Take a seat on the top level of the ferry, with a drink in hand, and just watch the small snow capped mountain islands appear before disappearing into the distance.

Ancient Wonders

The Terracotta warriors, within China, take 3^rd place; visiting 'site one' and having several thousand faces looking at you is an awe inspiring site. Trying to work out the time taken to produce the army is mind boggling and, given how old they are, it's amazing that they are still in a good condition.

Just missing out on first place is the Great Wall of China. Located within the north of China the wall is a marvel to behold and the views, if you get a clear day, are stunning. It defines believe to think how old the wall is, and how long it took to build.

There can be no other winner; the temples of Angkor within Cambodia make you speechless. Each temple is different and the work involved took years. If I could go back in time this is certainly one place that I would want to see in it's full glory.

Cities

Sydney, Australia, is extremely photogenic. The harbor with the bridge, opera house and the parks make it a lovely place to spent an afternoon.

Hong Kong, China, is probably the worlds most prettiest city at night; cross the water to Kowloon and wait for the evening light show. The financial district is a maze of beautifully constructed skyscrapers and you'll leave with a smile on your face and a crick in your neck.

1^st place goes to Quebec City, Canada. Stunningly beautiful it's the only walled city within North America. Even concrete fly-over pillars are painted beautifully and spending hours looking around the small cobbled streets is well worth the effort. After the first day there I didn't think things could have got any better, but the city kept on getting more and more beautiful.

Towns

Queenstown, New Zealand, takes 3^rd place. A laid back town, located on the edge of a river, the whole town has been built to perfection. The streets are clean, the buildings look brand new and all the residents walk with a smile on their face. Crammed in between the lake and the mountains leaves you with so many options to spend your time.

In 2^nd place is Dali, China. Also crammed between mountains and a lake the town is full of old Chinese buildings with their distinctive roofs. The skies are always blue, the temperature is always hot and the food is great.

The theme of lakes and mountains continues to 1^st place. Wanaka, New Zealand, for me is the pretties town within the world; a lot smaller than the other two only adds to it's beauty and I often wish I was back there chilling out at the lake front.

Meals

Rammien, a Japanese dish, takes 3^rd place. A spicy noodle soup rammien can take various forms all of which are a delight; I could have eaten this all day.

The 'Furg Burger', Queenstown New Zealand, takes 2^nd place. Everyone thinks that North America have the best burgers within the world but you would be wrong; with all their produce sourced locally the 'Furg' is extremely tasty and the queues, at any time, are out the door.

1^st place goes to Thailand and it's green curry. Pick any Thai dish and you'll love it but my favorite was this, mild, green curry. I have a Thai recipe book and so I hope I'll be eating more Thai food in the months to come.

Snacks

The famous Banana Routie – found all over South East Asia but mainly in Malaysia – is a very sweet snack. A pancake filled with sliced banana and topped with chocolate and condensed milk make this the South East Asian equivalent to the British 'Kebab' … best eaten after visiting the pub.

Malaysian spring rolls take the 2^nd spot. Mainly within Melaka the spring rolls are fried and filled with steamed vegetables and covered in a spicy sauce. Once again great after a night out, or during the heat of the day.

1^st place goes to Thailand's spring rolls. Almost identical to Malaysia the Thai spring rolls are smaller and more densely packed. Costing 25p for a bag of six – covered in the same spicy sauce as the Malaysian ones – this makes them a bargain and I ate hundreds.

Cakes

New Zealand's caramel cake, covered in coconut, takes the 3^rd spot. I must have eaten miles of this cake as Kiwi supermarkets sold four, within a packet, at a very reasonable price.

Mont Blonc in Chang Mai, Thailand, is a very posh cake shop. The cakes are delicately presented making them almost as nice to look at as to eat. Slightly expensive the cost is soon forgotten with the first mouthful.

The winner is the Cargo restaurant within Hoi An, Vietnam. For a while, after visiting Hoi An, I would miss the morning cake I would order from this restaurant; each one was a delight and the cost wasn't too high. For me the cake alone is a just reason to visit Hoi An.

And that's it. As you would agree a lot shorted than the Oscars but a lot more important. If anyone is interested in the statistics I listed:

Canada eight times winning four,

New Zealand eight times winning once,

China five times winning none,

Thailand three times winning twice,

Fiji three times winning twice,

Japan three times winning once,

Vietnam twice times winning once,

USA twice winning once,

Malaysia twice winning none,

Cambodia once winning once,

Australia once winning none,

Laos once winning none,

However 'The Matt Awards' are not complete just yet; every award ceremony has to have a final 'outstanding award' and this ceremony is no exception. The exceptional experience award goes to Cambodia for allowing me to teach English, within a small village, located outside Phnom Penh. I loved every minute of my teaching and I hope the children did to; the memories of those three weeks will remain with me all my life and I hope those children grow up with all the opportunities they deserve. For future holidays I'm very tempted to do something similar as it's an experience that money just can't buy.

Just for a little bit of fun below are the worst three places that I've visited:

Laukota Fiji takes third place. The hostel I stayed in had cockroaches and there was nothing to do … at all. I was there three days and within that time I spent most of it keeping cool within the cinema. The cinema was cheap and I did get to see some enjoyable films.

Phnom Penh Cambodia takes 2^nd. Filthy, busy and cramped I never felt safe out at night. There was a cockroach within my room here as well!

1^st place goes to Savannakhet within Laos. Described as the 'Louang Phebang' of the south was totally misleading; seeing dead animals on the footpaths, unable to find a decent place to eat and the fact that hardly anyone seemed to live there made it a horrible environment to find myself in. I only stayed one night.

So that really is it; thank you and good night.

The final day

2011-06-01T01:59:00.001-07:00

Monday 30^th May 2011

0 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: The breaking of the fellowship – The Lord of the Rings

Weather: Hot in Beijing / raining and cold in London

As the sun rose, on my final day, I found that an alarm wasn't needed; I woke up, at 6am, of my own accord and began to get ready as quietly as possible. As I'd packed my bags the previous day, it didn't take long to get ready and soon I found myself walking towards the nearest underground station, lugging all my luggage. It was around 7am when the train arrived; I boarded and alighted two stops later transferring onto the airport line. The train was empty and I found four seats for me and my luggage. I stared out of the window viewing China for the last time; I was glad to leave China, however I wasn't glad that my travels were at an end.

Terminal three was a very impressive building; white floors, with a high orange roof, made the airport feel spacious, clean and futuristic. I'd arrived three hours early, however I was surprised to find check-in open. I joined the queue and, soon enough, I found myself facing a young Chinese lady in a yellow shirt. 'Two pieces of check-in luggage?' she asked, looking at my backpack and my suitcase. I shook my head slowly, looking down at the floor, as I asked if my suitcase could be taken on as hand luggage. Her eyes widened and with a, 'oh no', I knew that I wasn't going to win this fight; I opened the case showing her four, breakable, tea sets ... but her answer was still no. As a comprise she said that I could take the four tea sets on within four, smaller, individual bags; I thanked the lady and left the queue to re-pack my bag.

I placed my case on a wooden bench and opened it; with the four tea sets out I filled the case – not brilliantly I must admit – with anything I wouldn't need on the flight. I went back to the young Chinese lady who gave me an approving smile. The next problem was that my ticket only allowed one piece of 'check-in' luggage; forty-five pounds later and I saw both my backpack, and my suitcase, travel along a black conveyable and drop into the abyss. With a small rucksack on my back, and three bags within my hands, immigration, passport control and security was a little more difficult than normal however, after a while, I found myself within the airport lounge. The time was 9:30am; I still had nearly two hours before my flight was due to depart. Not only did I have the time but I had the cash to do some last minute shopping; I strolled through the shops uncomfortably, due to the amount of luggage, looking for something to spend my final Yuan on. Eighteen 'Kitkat Chunky White bars' later and I was left with 150 Yuan (£15) to change back into Pound Stirling.

I sat down, with the plane in view to my right; two rows back, and slightly to my left, sat a lady crying. I tried not to stare but I wondered why she was so upset; end of a good holiday? Leaving a loved one? I didn't know the answer however it made me realise that, out of all transport options, flights affect human emotion more than any other. Over the last year I've felt excited, nervous, sad and happy when boarding a flight; maybe this could explain why flying is more exhausting than any other transport method. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted with a boarding announcement; I waited for the queue to shorten before joining it. Once on the plane I found my seat occupied by a Chinese guy; I asked to see his ticket and informed him that he should be sitting two rows back. I placed my tea sets carefully within the luggage holdalls above and sat making sure that my belt was securely fastened. Next to me was a British bloke who'd spent his holiday within North Korea; as the plane prepared for take off I questioned him about the secret country finding it interesting and a potential future destination.

The plane got into the air and levelled out; it was at this point that the 'in-flight entertainment' came on and I browsed the 'new release films' to find 'The Kings Speech'. I plugged my ear phones into the socket provided and pushed play; the film was good though, with a lot of people talking it up, I was expecting more. Once the film had finished I immediately put 'Black Swan' (weird) on before watching 'Gulliver's Travels' (good film) and then 'The Tourist' (okay film, good twist at the end). By this time I'd been in the air for eight hours; with three hours left I was presented with my second meal ('sweet and sour' pork with rice … best Chinese meal I've had within the last two months) before watching 'Harry Potter: The Deathly Hallows part 1'.

I seemed to have timed it just right. Harry Potter finished just before the entertainment system was turned off and we made our decent. It was at this point that reality hit me ... I was home. I looked at the land below with 'job' being the only word coming into my head. Once in the airport I found myself viewing the 'connecting flights' noticing that New York, Washington and Toronto were all possible destinations. I took a deep breathe before following signs to the 'luggage pick-up' area, though I would have preferred to board one of those connecting flights. With every step reality was coming closer and closer; my year of travel had ended, I was broke and I would have to find a job. I picked my luggage up but, before leaving the luggage room, I paused looking at the roof. I've been on my own for so long, without the social pressures of getting a good job, owning a good house and portraying an image of success; for the last year seeing ancient structures, beautiful natural scenes and asking other travellers where they got the cheapest meal had been the most important aspects of my life and this would all change once I had walked through the door in front of me. I'm not afraid to say that I was scared, more scared than I'd been in a long time.

As I walked into the departure hall, with my luggage on a trolley, I saw my mum, sister and youngest brother waiting for me. I gave both my sister and mum a big hug before we started to chat like I'd never been away. My sister lead the way and I followed her to the car; she drove as we chatted, which lead to a rather strange route home (London to Derby ... via Southampton). I arrived home around 7pm. As I got out of the car nothing much had changed; my brother, sister in-law, and their three children greeted me, along with my dad, within the lounge and I gave them their presents (relieved to loose the weight). As I scanned the room I found photos, of me, that I'd taken from my trip. As I tried to remember where each shot had been taken a large lump within my throat started to appear; so many memories and so many places.

I finally went to bed around 11pm UK time, twenty-four hours after I'd got up. As I lay in bed I looked around noticing just how much I had to do. Unpacking, mail and editing my photos ... there was hours of work. Still this was a good thing; as I closed my eyes I realised that I had to keep busy or else I would just sit, eat chocolate, and reminisce. My one year of travel has been the best decision of my life and with 64,174 miles covered (that's the equivalent of driving around the world two and a half times!), it truly has been an epic journey. So this otter is no longer around the world, that much is true. However I can almost guarantee that I will be back around the world … the only question is when.

Toodle Pip!

China

2011-05-29T09:55:00.000-07:00

So, the final write up for my final country. China's been an interesting country that took a while for me to like. Coming from South East Asia I was expecting things to improve and, whilst material things did seem to be of a higher standard, the way the Chinese people conducted themselves was, at times, disgusting. However, once I got to chat to the individual Chinese person I realized that things weren't as bad as they first appeared. Whilst I wouldn't put China up with the likes of Canada, Japan and New Zealand I wouldn't say that I haven't enjoyed it; China, at times, has left me captivated, appalled, amazed and disgusted; it's a very captivating country that, currently, is changing from day to day.

Before I start to divulge details of the different aspects of China, and it's 1.5 billion population, I'll first list my favorite experiences within this vast country:

1) Tiger Leaping Gorge – Equally as stunning as the Rockies of Canada, the glaciers of Alaska and the lakes of New Zealand, this is the world’s deepest gorge. Fast running water, steep vertical mountain sides and beautiful weather all made this place a scene that everyone should witness. The hike to the bottom was uneventful though the views, once down, were great. The gorge made me feel very small.

2) The Great Wall of China – You've seen the photos, but until you're stood on the wall you cannot begin to grasp the sheer size, and the awe, of the place. Not only is the wall a marvel in itself, but the mountainous landscape around is just as attractive. Walking part of the wall is a joy and money should not be spared.

3) The Terracotta Warriors – It doesn't seem to matter how many photos of these warriors you see, viewing 'site one', with your own eyes, with leave you breathless. With the pleasant landscaped site of the tomb of Qin Shi, within a ten minute walk, the whole package makes for a superb day out.

4) Hong Kong – The design of every skyscraper, within Hong Kong's financial district, has been through with intricate detail. Due to the sheer volume of people, walking around maybe a little stressful; however you'll leave with a crick in your neck as you continually look up to the sky. The tram up to a viewing platform, the aviary and Hong Kong's recent history all add to its charm but I doubt any other city looks as beautiful as Hong Kong at night. Be warned, Hong Kong island is a lot bigger than you might think and a good week would be required to see all this place has to offer.

5) The Shanghai Formula One – Okay not strictly a site but I enjoyed myself no less here than visiting any of the above. Due to the track’s design you can see almost all of the action from any seat. Add to this the cheap ticket cost, the easy tube link from the city and the fact that Shanghai has an international airport and you have the recipe for a great weekend. The only negative is that Formula One doesn't seem that popular within China and so the atmosphere isn't as electric as other tracks.

Below I'll delve into the different aspects of traveling within China:

Accommodation

Accommodation is a steal at, on average, £2.50 per night for a dorm room. All hostels are unbelievably clean, have great facilities and most are affiliated to 'Hosteling International' making your stay even cheaper. The best thing about hostels has to be the staff; always helpful, no question seems too much and they will write anything you request within Chinese. Without the staff at the hostels I have no idea how I would have traveled around China.

Transport

The train is king. There are many different seats ranging from a hard seat to a soft sleeper. Whereas the hard seat may seem a steal at 1/3 of the price of a soft sleeper it could be seen as a false economy. With a soft sleeper you get a waiting room, within the train station, where it's easy to identify when, and where, your train will be leaving. If you purchase a hard seat then outside of the station is where you'll have to wait and information is rarely communicated. Once on the train, within a soft sleeper birth you have the luxury of sharing with only three other people; if you opt for the hard option the carriage is open and you could be sharing with fifty. Add to this that with cheaper seats comes poorer people and, what should be a pleasant ride, might turn into a nightmare as you worry about your possessions, try to keep out of the way of huge bundles of farm produce and queue for hours at the only toilet.

Buses seem the same as anywhere else within the world; the sleepers are a little more refined that within South East Asia however shoes have to be removed before boarding. The speed is generally good and the leg room seems adequate. Mini-vans are rarely used for long distances and are more confined to day trips.

Flying within China is cheap and, if strapped for time, is a viable option. 'Ctrip' is a good website to book through but be warned, with so many flights some do get canceled.

Overall traveling within China is pleasant though be prepared to leave a lot of time. Even though you hear stories of China building the 'worlds longest bridge', or the 'fastest rail line' most of the network requires patience with many delays and cancellations; days, rather than hours, are needed.

Weather

When I'd left the sweat box of South East Asia I'd hoped that, traveling north, meant cooler days. This occurred on the east coast – with Shanghai being very cold at times – but the further west I went the hotter it became. Chengdu seemed hotter than Hanoi and my shorts had to make a reappearance; the south-western province of Yunnan was a little cooler, than its northern neighbour, but that's because of it's high altitude.

Money

China was a lot cheaper than I expected. Accommodation was stupidly cheap and the trains, considering the distances, were good value for money. A flight to anywhere within China always seemed to be around the £100 mark and, considering the size of the country, the price could be justified. Food was mixed depending on what you wanted; forgetting taste a plate of noodles could cost around £1. Want something a little more interesting and you're looking at £3/£4. Attractions were stupidly expensive making me choose carefully what to see and what to avoid. A student card – whether real or fake – would have proved very beneficial as most entrance fees were halved or became free.

People

My biggest annoyance, and yet once of my favorite aspects of China, the population could seem to be so disgusting and then so friendly within a heartbeat. The sheer size of the Chinese population is the first problem; hit any major city and trying to find a peaceful spot is impossible. Transport, attractions and main shopping streets are packed leaving you unable to move without hitting someone's shoulder. The fact that the Chinese like to travel in huge tour groups means, once the coaches have been sighted, I often calculate whether the attraction is still worth seeing. Like their South East Asian cousins most Chinese seemed to have had their common sense removed from birth; when driving they rarely look in any direction apart from straight, they go through red lights without concern, take up the whole pavement and push until they can push no more. It's mind boggling how a nation who built the Great Wall cannot work out why walking towards oncoming traffic, if there isn't a pavement, might prove beneficial.

Spitting on the streets and spitting within transport stations is disgusting and not needed. I disagree that this is apart of China's culture as the young seem to do it less than the middle aged or the elderly. The children here wear trousers with slits at the back; as they walk you can see their bottoms and not only is it humiliating but the fact that they're designed to allow children to relieve themselves anywhere (and they do relieve themselves anywhere; footpaths, buses, gardens etc) is beyond belief. Both of these aspects have made me leave my 'open-toed' sandals firmly within the bottom of my bag.

English is rarely spoken from somebody older than twenty meaning that getting around, or getting what you want, is a mission. Going into McDonald's and receiving two 'Chicken sandwich meals', rather than a large 'Chicken nugget meal', should show you just how hard communicating is. I tried to avoid doing things that weren't important as the hassle, plus time, would out weigh the benefit gained. Staring, from the elderly in particular, is frustrating and hearing laughing, as you pass people by, always leaves a sour taste within your mouth. Around Yunnan the staring wasn't so bad but in other provinces people almost walked into bins, lampposts and crossed through red lights as all their concentration was firmly focused at me. I don't know why, surely they have seen plenty of white people; if not ... watch TV!

Pushing seems to be another favourite of the old; seeing no problem in gaining a few places, at the expense of their fellow citizens, the old will push through the tiniest gap thinking nothing of pushing people over, even women with children. It's a barbaric act that seems completely the reverse of what communism should stand for. However, go into a park and all the above seems to be left at the gates. The old either join their individual exercise groups, or play cards, or play Chinese chess at a number of tea houses. Their voices seem to lower and spitting rarely occurs; parks are the only location where I've enjoyed their company.

Having said all this the young are China's saving grace; very polite, with a basic understanding of English, they seem to be inquisitive wanting nothing more than to ask a few questions and practice their English. You still have to be on your guard but most seem genuine and the offer of drinks, paying for rides and helping you out with translations makes me hopeful that China, given another thirty years, will become an excellent place to visit.

The only traits both age groups seem to share are, I'm afraid, negative. Eating with their mouth open is horrible and they seem to take pleasure in trying to make as much noise as possible. Speaking of noise the Chinese seem unable to be quiet; either they're shouting to the person next to them, they're shouting down their phone or they're just shouting but parks, hikes and temples are ruined by the constant droning sound. Smoking doesn't seem to be a social taboo and it doesn't even occur to them that smoking in someone’s face, or leaving your ash all over a PC keyboard, might seem inappropriate.

Infrastructure

Stories of China building the tallest building, the longest bridge or the biggest theme park consume global newspapers and yet, with all that boasting, most of the countries infrastructure is average at best. The train network seems slow and some roads are unpaved; but on a whole both are adequate if a little time consuming. Plumbing is up to the same standard as the rest of Asia; hostels are well equipped with modern facilities and with free wireless internet access everywhere – though being able to connect is another story – is extremely beneficial.

The government seems determined to block parts of the internet; it would appear that this is a power trip the government is on and some blocked sites seem illogical. It's true that this blog has been blocked, since I crossed the boarder, and yet my blogs have been posted. Many Chinese students have asked to swap Facebook details and so there are ways around the government’s ridiculous attempt at blocking free speech. One way, which I used a lot, was a website called 'remain hidden' (http://www.remainhidden.com/) though I'm sure that there are others.

Signs within China are comical. Signs translated into English are located everywhere but it seems the Chinese have chosen which signs to translate. Sometimes their choices have been beneficial; road names, with a north, south, east or west direction printed on them, have helped me a lot but train station names, attraction names and signs to said attractions all remain in Chinese. I've found no end of 'entrance', 'mind your head' and 'slippy floor' signs all of which I could have worked out for myself; what I really wanted to know is if the train station in front of me is the north, or the south, station.

Food

The food within China has been a huge disappointment. At first it was hard to find Chinese restaurants, let alone communicate with the staff, and once found the food was bland and uninteresting. For a while McDonald's, KFC and Subway became my standard food outlets but as I moved into the province of Yunnan menu's started to be translated into English. I tried the hot pot, noodles and rice dishes expecting the spicy sauces from home but it rarely came; the most tasteful Chinese dish I consumed came from either a pot noodle or from western dishes; the Chinese seem to be able to cook an excellent pizza. I knew that the UK Chinese take-away had been altered to fit English tastes but I never realised just how much; the food within Vietnam, Thailand and Malaysia was so much nicer.

Driving

Driving is impossible, within China, as a tourist is forbidden to get behind the wheel. This is a good thing as China's ability to drive is similar to South East Asia. Once more notice is rarely given to traffic lights and scooters drive on the road, or on the pavement, depending on which seems faster. There seems to be a culture within China that 'if I don't get caught it's not wrong' and that is no more evident than when watching them drive. There are 'traffic helpers' at every major intersection but they are ignored by pedestrians, and vehicles, a like as both try to weaving their way around the other.

Would I come back?

I'm planning too! However next time I would stay clear of the east and inner parts of China. For me there are too many people to make it worth the effort; if I do come back then I'll visit the province Yunnan – as it's beautiful – before heading into Tibet and then the barren northern provinces of China.

Would I recommend China to others?

Yes but I would recommend spending as little time as possible within Beijing, Shanghai, Xi'an and Chengdu and spending as much time within the province of Yunnan. See the Great Wall, see the Terracotta Warriors but make it quick and then relax within Yunnan where you can actually escape the crowds.

Conclusion

China is a mixed country of the old and the new, the good and the bad. The range of extremes are wide and this can make the country extremely infuriating and brilliant at the same time. Currently it would appear that the Chinese government isn't interested in foreign tourism; with the lack of English signs, the difficulties in traveling around and the uncivilised actions of there older residents China, at first, can seem to have been a bad holiday destination. However, given time and patience, the country will open to you and, with the young seeming so civilised, I have hope that within the next thirty years foreign tourism will be seen as important as internal.

Toodle Pip!

I want to be ... an Olympian

2011-05-29T09:48:00.000-07:00

Sunday 29^th May 2011

1 day left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Twenty four hours - Athlete

Weather: It's been hoooot all day, and the smog has been unbearable.

Up early I went for 'first breakfast' before returning to my dorm. I got back around 9:30am and was surprised to see all, bar two people, out of bed. One guy, still asleep, was 'PC Man'; this is the guy who was on his computer, at 2am, a few nights ago and I've yet to see him without his PC on; he's on it all day, and all night, and rarely leaves the hostel. I didn't feel guilty, re-packing my bag, as 'PC man' tried to sleep and it took forty-five minutes to, eventually, be left with one large rucksack, one small rucksack, one hard suit case and one shopping bag. The suit case, shopping bag and small rucksack is all 'hand luggage'; I stared at it wondering how on earth I was going to persuade the airline to board me with this lot. Still this was a problem for another day; I left, went for 'second breakfast' (which consisted of cake) and walked into town.

My first target for today was the circular 'Beijing Concert Hall'. Designed like a large dome, water surrounded it allowing for a reflection to make it appear 'egg shaped'. I walked around the building taking many photos. Due to it being located within the centre of town the building didn't have any grounds, therefore it didn't take long to see all there was to see. Still, I wouldn't say that it was a disappointment; The 'Beijing Concert Hall' was very photogenic and it's certainly one of my favourite modern constructions that I've seen whilst travelling. I left the concert hall after thirty minutes and walked in an easterly direction. I could have entered an underground station within minutes, however I decided to walk to one half an hour a way. There were many reasons for my decision; firstly, if I'd boarded earlier, I would have had to change trains twice, to get to the station that I was planning on boarding from. Secondly I'm fed up of the 'underground squeeze' and thirdly you see a lot more when walking. After a quick 'pit stop', for a Sprite, I eventually made it to 'Dongan' station where I boarded a train heading north, on line five, before transferring to line thirteen and then, finally, transferring to line eight. It was a lot of hassle and I decided, once I'd seen the Olympic area, I'd walk back to my hostel as, I reckon, it would be quicker.

The underground trains, and stations, got posher and posher the nearer I got to the Olympic area. Whilst listening to my music, on the final leg of the journey, a boy tapped me on my shoulder. I took out my ear phones to find that him, and his brother, were with their mother on their way to the Olympic park. The mum wanted her children to practice their English which, considering I couldn't go anywhere, I agreed. Once the train stopped at its terminus – the northern part of the park – all four of us alighted and we continued chatting until I found some sculptures that I wanted to see. The mum said thank you and I replied by wishing them a good day. The park – which consisted of a long stone path, small gardens on each side, and a lake at the northern tip – would have been much nicer if it hadn't been for the sheer amount of smog. I haven't seen smog this bad before; tops of buildings disappeared into thick white clouds never to be seen again. I walked south along the path, heading into the gardens on either side when a sculpture came into view. It took a while to get to Beijing's 'Olympic Stadium' (i.e. the birds nest) which was impressive, though it lost its appeal due to the smog swirling around it. I didn't stay long; I took a few photos and then left the area holding my breath, eating an ice cream and heading south.

It took an hour to walk back to my hostel. I went in, put my camera within my locker, and went to the hostels restaurant for lunch. It's the first time that I've dined here and, I have to say, that it was good. I ordered a cheese burger and a … vanilla shake; when I saw, 'vanilla shake', on the menu my mind was cast back to Phnom Penh where vanilla shakes were my favourite drink. Once I'd received my drink, I was happy to find that it tasted exactly the same as the ones within Cambodia. Why hadn't I dined here before? I left the restaurant, determined to be back later for another vanilla shake, for a quick walk around Beijing. I returned around 5pm where I briefly went on the internet before grabbing a lovely, long, shower. I had tea, checked into my flight and went for an early night. Even though my flight doesn't depart until 11:15am I still want to arrive, at the airport, around 8am; I've got a lot of 'hand luggage begging' to do and, if I can't take it all on the plane, some emergency re-packing will have to happen. It's going to be weird seeing 'London' on the departure board.

Toodle Pip!

Shopping, acrobatics and a dead guy

2011-05-28T12:07:00.000-07:00

Saturday 28^th May 2011

2 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Show must go on - Queen

Weather: Without the usual breeze it's been hoooot all day.

I walked out of my hostel, around 8:30am, leaving my camera, and my mobile phone, within my locker. As I walked towards my local underground station I formed a 'plan of action' for the day; first of all I'll have breakfast, and then I'll go to see Chairman Mao before clothes shopping. I made my way to Tienanmen square where, before joining the horrendous queue to see Mr Mao, I went for a quick bite.

After breakfast I returned to the square and joined a queue consisting of Chinese looking people. I tried to blend in but my height, colour and the fact that I wasn't wearing a 'tour group baseball cap' gave me away. I stood as far from the guards as possible and never made eye contact. The queue circled Mao's mausoleum which was a square building, located within the middle of Tienanmen Square; the queue moved at a steady pace and it didn't take long to reach security. 'Camera!' a stern female guard asked me; I shook my head and I was allowed to proceed into the mausoleums gardens. As the queue edged forward I studied the gardens liking the way the red flowers – constructed to form a pattern – were surrounded by grass and fern trees blocked the outside world from view. Once inside the first hall had a white marble sculpture, of Mr Mao, sitting on a seat with his legs crossed and flowers all around him. I could have purchased a yellow rose, to lay at his feet, but I didn't. Unlike 'Uncle Ho', Mao's final resting place was on the ground floor, in a separate hall, behind said sculpture. With my hat off, head bowed and a sad expression upon my face, I went into the chamber trying not to laugh. Finally Chairman Mao came into view; he was lined in a similar coffin to Ho Chi Minh, with a communist red flag drooped over his legs. Apparently the Vietnamese helped the Chinese entomb him. I have to say that he's a lot shorter than I thought he would be, and he did look a little plastic. I slowly walked by and then, once past, quickened my pace and left the mausoleum through the back entrance.

Once again I found myself on the underground; this time, however, I was heading to a station called 'Yong'anli' where the silk market could be found. The name, silk market, isn't quite suited for the five storey clothes complex I found myself in. Exit 'B', from the underground station, entered into the heart of the market and, only three stores in, I was accosted by a short, Chinese lady, asking me to 'buy something'. I found myself within the basement level, where shoes played the dominant role. This lady had one pair of red, and one pair of blue, converse that I liked very much; she said that she had my size and so, as her sister ran off to their warehouse, we made small talk focusing on where I've been. It took an age for her sister to return but, within her hands, were two pairs of converse my size. I asked how much and then the lady started the – what was to come – usual speech of 'these are real leather, well made and retail at £70. But, just for me, I'll discount them to £50'. I smiled and started to walk away but she blocked my move, calculator in hand, asking me what was my final price. I typed '£5' into the calculator and she frowned asking for £45. I continued to lace up my shoes and, as I did, the price kept falling until we got to £6.50. She was a really nice person, and we'd laughed a lot, therefore I agreed to purchase both pairs for £13. She frowned at me saying that I was a 'hard bargainer', to which I suggested she go to Cambodia for bargaining lessons.

I continued to walk past hundreds of stalls all selling the same items; ladies would grab my arm and shout 'look in my shop', or 'want bag' or some other call. I would either oblige, say no or walk by giving a witty remark. In a couple of stores I was prevented from leaving, by the saleswoman continually shadowing my moves. Now, you would have though that I would have hated this experience … but I found myself loving it. Some, of the saleswomen, were a little rude but most were up for a laugh and I had a great time joking as I shopped. I walked down many isles, and up many floors, eventually spending £150 on:

3 – pairs of converse (1x red, 1x blue and 1x black and white)

1 – pair of trainers (white)

1 – belt

1 – jacket

1 – polo shirt

2 – shirts

5 – beanie hats

1 – bag

Everything above was a 'designer label', though I would question there authenticity. I had a great time but, as I checked my wallet, I had £4 remaining. Spending a little more than I wanted I left the market, satisfied with my purchases, and took the underground back to my hostel. Once back I went to the local bank to withdraw £40, before having lunch and then waiting for my acrobatics pick-up. The time was 5pm and my pick-up was due within thirty minutes. At 5:30pm, on the dot, the receptionist tapped me on my shoulder indicating that my pick-up had arrived. I, and another British bloke called Andy, found ourselves within a mini-van being driven through the crowded streets of Beijing. It took an hour to get to the theatre; the driver pointed to a building, on the opposite side of the road, indicating that it was said theatre. With an hour to kill Andy and I wandered the surrounding streets chatting about our individual trips; time flew and we soon found ourselves, at the theatres entrance, fifteen minutes before the performance started. If we'd known that there was no seat allocation we would have entered earlier; as it was the theatre wasn't full and we still managed to get good seats ... though they were off to the left a little.

We continued to chat until the lights went down and a golden robbed figure appeared on stage. It would appear that the performance told a story - as well as being full of acrobatics - though what the story was I had no idea, as it was told in Chinese. The golden figure disappeared, through a trap door, and a clown – who, I think, was supposed to be a narrator – seemed to be continually on stage as each act came and went. The show was fantastic; it started with a dance routine before moving onto human balancing acts. I sat captivated as performers balanced on top of one another using only one hand. Other acts included a evil looking dude who 'face changed', people flipping through rings, people balancing on rings, a juggler and a group of girls playing with a cone thing which they threw up into the air, and caught on a piece of string. The final act was the most impressive; the stage doors opened and out came a huge metal ball. Motor bikes would be driven into said ball and they would do loops within. At one point four bikes were whizzing around, almost hitting each other. As the entertainers came on stage, for their final round of applause, I was satisfied with my end to my tour. The show had been stunning and only the audience (plus, as the juggler was on-stage, I could see some female acrobats practising to the left of a stage screen) had put a slight dampener on the event, with their photo taking and chatting. Still I didn't let it bother me; I exited the theatre wishing the show had gone on for longer than an hour. Once back at the hostel I went on the internet – to find the F1 qualifying results – before retiring for an early night.

So tomorrow is my final day around the world. I thought about making it manic, however I quite like the idea of a lazy day. I think I'll have a lie-in before packing my bags and, in the evening, I'll have a shower but, apart from that, I haven't got anything else planned. Current thoughts, on how to spend the day, include:

- crying

- eating lots and lots of cake ... before crying

- or going out for a walk – sightseeing Beijing's Olympic buildings – before visiting a park

I think I'll decided tomorrow morning.

Toodle Pip!

Palaces, Dim Sum and Mr Bean

2011-05-27T11:49:00.000-07:00

Friday 27^th May 2011

3 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Night swimming - REM

Weather: It's been smoggy, and hot, all day; however no threat of rain and no high humidity either.

As I peered out of my dorms window the weather seemed to be dry but smoggy. Once ready I went to reception requesting information; as I approached the lady was on the phone but she pointed to an underground map, at a circle along 'line four', which was described as the 'Summer Palace' stop. I thanked her and left; as I studied my own underground map I noticed that the restaurant – serving 'Dim Sum' - was also situated along 'line four' though, in the opposite direction. I decided to enter my local underground station and make my way south, for a 'Dim Sum' breakfast, before back-tracking north to the palace.

It took half an hour to reach 'Xidan' underground station; this is where I would find Beijing's financial district and, more importantly, the restaurant that I required. As I exited huge skyscrapers loomed above and people, in suits, were walking in all directions to, I presume, their work. The restaurant I wanted was located within a shopping complex; as I approached the lights were off and a '10:00 – 19:00' sign was erected on the front doors. There was a guard outside and so I showed him a piece of paper – with the restaurants name on - to which he nodded in confirmation, but he also pointed to the opening times. It was 9am therefore I wasn't going to wait an hour for the shopping centre to open; yet again I found myself stunned with Beijing's work hours. I scoured the area for somewhere else to dine and, as I surveyed, the only places open were a Costa Coffee and a McDonald's. I visited McDonald's for more pineapple goodness (though, after eating so many, it's starting to loose it's shine).

I soon found myself back on 'line four' travelling north. The fifteenth stop was the one I wanted; I sat down and read about the 'Summer Palace' which, in reality, is a few temples located within a huge park. Two-thirds of the park's area is covered by water and hills form a wall at the northern end. The buildings have only recently been rebuilt after they were destroyed, by western troops, in 1902 after the boxer rebellion was crushed.

The palace entrance was located close to the underground exit; I decided to purchase the 'all exclusive' ticket which allowed entry into the grounds as well as all the temples. I walked in, chose a path, and followed it. The stone path felt like a trench that ran through the middle of a hill covered in coniferous trees; it was lovely, and cool, therefore I followed it until I reached a wall. Behind said wall sat a small lake surrounded by three temples, all with connecting walkways. The buildings, and walkways, were made out of wood and mainly consisted of the colours red and blue; the covered walkways were very welcome but, due to their width, getting through the crowds proved difficult. I didn't stay long and soon I found myself heading south. As I turned a corner I stopped suddenly; I witnessed thousands of banners fluttering in the breeze. There was a temple complex, to my right, and it's here that battle commenced; tour groups – lead by the standard bearer with a 'hands-free' microphone – would attack from different positions and a lot of running, pushing (with the use of elbows) and shouting occurred. I didn't stay long; I backed away from the conflict, took a photo and headed to the lake. I went through the baseball cap, same t-shirt wearing crowds – throwing a few elbows of my own – before I got to the edge of 'Kunming Lake'. The crowds were still large and it took a long walk south for the amount of people to thin.

Looking at a map I noticed that I could walk around the entire lake; this, I hoped, would take a couple of hours meaning that I could visit the main temples around lunchtime. The first part of the walk consisted of beach trees with a stone path running through the middle; the lake was to my right with Chinese bridges crossing where it was narrow. Boats, carrying copious amounts of Chinese tourists, sailed up and down. Right at the southern part of the lake stood an old Chinese bridge with a difference; it was curved in design but it had been heightened to allow bigger vessels to pass under. The stairs both up, and down, were almost vertical and, instead of climbing up myself, I crossed the lake using another bridge where I was able to take photographs.

I found myself at the south-western tip of the lake. Heading north-west the crowds disappeared and I was, almost, on my own. The trees had changed to ferns and it was lovely to be able to walk, surrounded by nature, without disturbance. It didn't last long; I soon found myself back at the northern end of the lake and, due to the amount of people becoming denser, I knew that I was coming back into the touristy areas. Before climbing up a small hill, to the main temples, I had a look around the less visited 'outer temples' where nothing new was discovered. The temples were still made of wood, they were still red and they still had the ancient style Chinese roofs. I moved quickly and I soon found myself, surrounded by Chinese tourists, next to 'Empress Dowager Cixi' marble boat.

'Empress Dowager Cixi' entered the imperial court at the age of fifteen. She soon became Emperor Zianfeng's favourite concubine and bore him a son. The emperor died (1861) when the boy was still an infant and so the empress claimed power, which she never handed back. For the next twenty-five years the empress bled the country dry, ultimately resulting in the fall of her dynasty and the occupation of large areas of China. Not only did she spend copious amounts of money, on releasing ten thousand birds for each of her birthdays, but she would order 108-course dinners and spent funds, designated to modernise the Chinese military fleet, on her marble boat. Shortly after the boats completion, China suffered huge naval defeats to Japan.

The white marble boat was okay, though it looked as though it could do with a good clean; it also seemed to be based on an American steam boat, but with a Chinese influence where the upper decks were concerned. As a Chinese girl pushed in front of me, to pose for a photo, I left and went to the main temples. As I'd paid to view said temples I went in, though I wasn't really in the mood. 'Templed out' I quickly looked at the red wooden buildings, focusing more on the view over the lake. The smog prevented seeing the southern end of the lake but you could tell - in Empresses Cixi's time – that it would have been an impressive view. The time was 1:30pm and, even though it was lunch, the amount of tourists were still above what I would call an 'okay level'; therefore, after four hours of wondering, I left the park the way I'd entered.

I found myself back on 'line four' heading south. Once again I was within Beijing's financial district and, this time, the shopping centre was open. I made my way to the basement level where I found many food outlets serving many dishes from around the world. I found myself in front of a rather posh restaurant; I showed the waiter, on the door, a piece of paper – with the restaurants name, written in Chinese, on - and he gestured that I'd arrived. Before asking for a table I requested to see a menu; as I flicked through the prices seemed okay but I couldn't find 'Dim Sum'. I opened my guidebook, showed the waiter what I wanted, and he flicked through the menu and pointed to an item that looked right. I was then shown to a table before the waiter went to complete my request; as he left I started to read about 'Dim Sum'.

'Dim Sum' is the name given to a breakfast made up of small pastry balls. The balls can contain many different fillings and are placed within a circular wooden box. As my order arrived the box lid was opened and five pastry balls could be seen. I picked up my chop sticks, placed a pastry ball between them, and inserted it into my mouth. As I chewed the pastry packaging split and the filling poured out; at first I chewed quickly but then, as the taste hit me, I chewed more slowly. It was disgusting. Surprisingly it wasn't bland, though I wished it was; the filling tasted like sweet bean curd which made me feel ill. There was so much filling that my facial expression changed from delight, to horrified, very quickly. A few Chinese women, sat across from me, were watching and they laughed. I was finally able to swallow and, as I did, the waiter came past to see how I was getting on. When he noticed that one pastry was missing he smiled at me and I smiled back; as he left my faced returned to the disgusted look that was apparent only moments ago. What was I going to do? I sat within a posh restaurant with another four of these pastries that I knew I couldn't eat. At that point I asked myself one very important question; what would Mr Bean do? I started to looking around for handbags, plant pots and plates but none could be found. Maybe this 'Dim Sum' was a required taste that needed time to get use to, I popped another into my mouth realising that it wasn't. The ladies, once again, laughed at my facial expressions and, after I'd consumed the item, the waiter returned pleased to see another pastry missing. I couldn't eat any more; when my waiter had returned to 'door duty' I summoned a waitress demanding the bill. I paid quickly, picked up my stuff, and walked out of the restaurant. The waiter smiled at me as I exited and I thanked him in return; as he turned, to see how I'd got on with my meal, I ran up the escalator in a very Mr Bean fashion.

I was still hungry and, with a bean curd taste in my mouth, I needed something to eat. I dare not go back into the food court in case the waiter spotted me; once outside I saw the Costa Coffee, and McDonald's, from this morning. I couldn't eat any more fast food and so I went to Costa Coffee for an expensive sandwich, cake and a hot chocolate (though, due to spending so much, I did receive a wicked Costa rubix cube). As the 'Dim Sum' taste finally started to disappear I decided that I'd had enough with Chinese food; from now on western food only, though my guidebook states that Beijing has a good Thai restaurant. I can't wait to get home to have a decent Chinese take-away.

I got back to my hostel around 5pm; I sat down and browsed the internet, for a short while, before a Chinese lady approached. She was the new 'acrobatics booking agent' and it took little time to sort my ticket out. It was guaranteed that I would get a pick-up, tomorrow; however it was scheduled two hours before the show. The only other disappointment was that the show was only an hour long; still it's not the quantity it's the quality, I thought to myself. After, I had a long shower and an early night; I'm going to leave my camera at the hostel tomorrow, and visit 'Mr Mao' before going shopping. I want to get some shoes, a few shirts, some beanie hats and maybe another belt. After this, the acrobatics. It's still all go, go, go here!

Toodle Pip!

Storms coming

2011-05-26T10:49:00.000-07:00

Thursday 26^th May 2011

4 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Singing in the rain - Gene Kelly

Weather: The day started smoggy, with a hint of a blue sky. Beijing was as hot as normal, however a cooling breeze blew. At 2:30pm the skies darkened and, only an hour later, thunder and lighting erupted; this eruption was closely followed by buckets of rain falling throughout the afternoon, and into the evening.

I was up earlier than expected; first action for today was to find 'dim sum' for breakfast … again. Once again I went to reception and, this time, I showed the lady a Chinese translation, of what I wanted, instead of a picture. She went all red and apologised for the mix-up yesterday; she said that 'dim sum' was a southern breakfast and I would struggle to find it in northern China. It's ironic that I can find pizza, Thai food and even a Canadian restaurant and yet, I cannot find food served only a few hundred miles away. As a sort of compromise she asked if I liked cake; is the Pope Catholic, I thought to myself, and she began to explain where the cake shop, I visited yesterday, was located. I thanked her for the information and went in that direction. Yet again Beijing's 'opening times' amazed me; yesterday's cake shop didn't open until 9am and, here I was, at 8am. It mattered not; I walked by and went into another cake shop further down the street. The cake – a chocolate cake – was creamy and tasty, though a little small. The hot chocolate tasted like hot milk but, the price, was very cheap. Once again my taste buds weren't set on fire however, given the location and the price, I may end up coming back. I continued walking south until I made it to my first attraction, Jingshan Park.

Located only a few hundred yards from the Forbidden City, Jingshan Park provided the perfect location to get an overview. Once I'd paid the five Yuan entrance fee I noticed that the parks grounds were a lot bigger than I first thought; most of the gardens were covered in pine trees where stone paths worked their way between them. People were playing cards, exercising or chatting to friends which made the park look intriguing; I hadn't the time to wander as I'd come for one reason, and one reason only.

The path, up the hill, had been well cared for and, though slightly out of breathe, I found myself at the top in no time. Along the ridge of the hill were five buildings; a main temple was erected in the middle with four Pavilions, two to each side, making the whole area symmetrical. I'd climbed up to the temple and looked around before walking to each pavilion. From my elevated position I could see how big the Forbidden City was; it looked much bigger, from up here, than it felt walking around it yesterday. I took many photos, cursing a little because the smog prevented seeing all the way to the cities southern gate. I didn't stay long and, at around 10am, I started to descend heading south. Getting down the hill didn't take too long and I soon found myself within a beautiful rose garden; in-between the many pine trees were beds of roses, all out in full bloom. I took many photos, of the flowers, trying to capture a creature retrieving pollen. There were signs, asking people not to walk on the beds, but they were ignored; a park attendant would periodically shout, asking the Chinese public not to pose for photos whilst standing within the flower beds. I would occasionally step off the path, and up to said flower bed, but the attendant seemed okay with that. As I was about to leave I noticed a woman, in the middle of a rose garden, posing for a photo. As I looked at her I, very quickly, came to the conclusion that no matter how many beautiful roses surrounded her, she was still butt ugly. Only if the flowers covered her entire body, and face, could she look anything near normal.

Once out of the parks southern gate, the forbidden city faced me; half tempted to go back in I walked around the perimeter (once again getting a good idea of the scale) before, forty minutes later, arriving at Tienanmen square. Once through security I walked out, onto the square, to see a Chinese flag flying with guards posted at each side. There were many tourists, within this forty hectare square (which, if I'm being picky, is actually a rectangle), but there were also many guards. I took photos of the square, and the surrounding buildings, with one eye on the security. The square, designed for national celebrations, is more known for the bloody demonstrations that have occurred within the twentieth Century, most notably the 1989 'popular dissent' protest in which, possibly, thousands of people were killed. As I walked I tried to imagine the scene of carnage; if the current metal barriers were in place, twenty-two years ago, it would have made it extremely difficult to avoid gun fire. A cold shiver traveled down my spine and I quickly changed thought, by focusing on photographing the 'Great Hall of the People' and the 'Museum of Chinese History'. I went past Chairman Mao's memorial hall reading the conditions of entry; just like 'Uncle Ho's' place no cameras were allowed in and so I moved on, deciding to come back later. I finished photographing the square around 11am. I was glad to leave; the amount of armed personnel, on duty, freaked me out and I soon found myself, within KFC, ordering a large coke. Whilst sipping away I worked out how to get to the final attraction of the day. I finished my drink, and head south in the direction of the Temple of Heaven.

Beijing's a funny city; position yourself within Tienanmen Square and walk, in any direction, for around twenty minutes and the urban-scape seems to become less grand, and more run down. It's because of this that Beijing feels small; wonder away from the main tourist area for too long and you'll soon find yourself in areas that don't look inviting. This was true as I walked south towards the 'Temple of Heaven'. I'd walked south for around thirty minutes before turning left; my map showed a large park but all I could see were run down, very communist, residential blocks. I quickened my pace and, after an hour of walking, I finally made it to the southern entrance of the temple. The temple had northern, and western, entrances however my guidebook said to walk to the southern gate as then you'll be visiting the buildings in the correct order. Entry was thirty-five Yuan, which I gladly paid. There was another audio guide service however, this time, I rejected the offer. I had my ticket stamped as I walked through an old, red, Chinese gate. The complex was surrounded by acres of woodland and, on either side of where I stood, thousands of pine trees blocked my line of sight. In front of me was a long, rectangular, stone path that lead to another gate. Once through a round altar could be seen; surrounded by a circular marble wall, with many gates, a three tiered round altar stood looming above me. Each tier represented man, earth and heaven, in that order; in the centre, of the top tier, was a small stone circle which, was believed, to be the middle of the middle kingdom – the very centre of Earth.

Continuing north the next structure was a circular wooden building called the 'Imperial Vault of Heaven'. This was a beautiful temple which stood upon a square white marble platform. Both the shape of the building (circle) and the platform (square) were symbolic as a circle represented heaven and the square Earth (thus, at this temple, this is where both realms met). The temple's roof was blue and its sides red.

Surrounding the temple was the 'Whispering Wall'. Apparently the wall was constructed in such a way so that sounds could travel around it. It is said that, if one person whispers into the wall the sound will travel all the way around. As I walked hordes of Chinese tourists were shouting at the wall before pressing their ear to it; I was about to politely remind them that the wall was called the 'Whispering Wall' but then I thought better of it.

Eventually I made it to the main event. The 'Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests' is what its name suggests. Kind of a 'bigger brother', to the 'Imperial Vault of Heaven', the two buildings were identical in external design but the insides were vastly different. This temple had four compass point pillars represent the four seasons, which were then enclosed by twelve outer pillars (representing the months of the year). This is the temple where the Emperor would visit, once a year, to pray for a good harvest. The Emperor, being known as a 'Son of Heaven', was the only person eligible to pray for such benefits. With the main buildings done I went in search of something yummy; even though the clouds had drawn in the temperature was still high therefore I felt thirsty. Just like yesterday I went for an ice cream, the only difference being that this one was a peach ice lolly, and it tasted good. As I walked I ate my ice lolly quickly, for fear of melting. I walked into the wooded grounds, of the complex, to find the 'outer buildings'. On the east side stood the kitchens (used for sacrificial animal killings) but, alas, they were closed. I quickly transferred to the west side where I walked through my second rose garden of the day (which was just as beautiful as the first). Next to the rose garden was supposed to be the 'garden of a thousand plants' however, once in, it looked quite over grown and unkept. I enjoyed walking down the stone paths, moving tree branches out of my way and side-stepping broken cobbles but I didn't spent long. I exited through a wooden canopy – with vines dripping off it – and went to an outer palace. This place was used by the Emperor for three days, before the ritual for a good harvest commenced. Add additional entrance fee had to be paid to view, therefore I declined and left the park.

Once again it was late afternoon and I'd only eaten a slice of cake and an ice cream all day. Once in town I went to the first restaurant I could find – by-passing the Beijing Duck – and had something to eat. It was at this time that the clouds had drawn in and the sky was becoming darker; as I exited the sound of thunder could be heard and so I quickened my pace to the nearest subway station. I made it in before a torrent of rain erupted. Whilst on the train I decided not to visit Chairman's Mao's memorial today as, a) it was raining and b) it closes at 11am every day. I had planned on visiting the Summer Palace tomorrow but, if the weather is as bad as it is now, I may change my plans by visiting 'Mao' and then going shopping. As I've already visited 'Uncle Ho' I wondered if I visited 'Mao', and the Russian bloke, (i.e. seeing all three) whether I would get a sticker … or a free Big Mac. I didn't have time to evaluate the possibility; at that point the train's doors opened and I exited.

Once out of the underground the rain was bombarding Beijing; I erected my umbrella and started on the short walk to my hostel. The time was only 4pm however, with the rain falling, I wasn't going to venture back out. I sat down and started to write my blog. I was interrupted, but in a nice way, twice; firstly a couple from Quebec City chatted to me about my time there (ho hum, I wish I was back in Quebec City … I think I would have been there about this time last year) and then, the receptionist from this morning, sat down next to me with three pieces of paper. Whilst I'd been out she'd scoured the internet and found three places that I could eat 'Dim Sum'; she’d written the directions, in both Chinese and English, and smiled at me as she gave me the information. I couldn't believe it; I smiled back and thanked her. Like I've said before, Chinese hostel staff are amazing.

Once my blog was complete I found out that I would receive an acrobatics ticket, for this Saturday, tomorrow and that I would get a free lift there and back. All was going well and so I went for a shower before an early night. Tomorrow is weather dependent, but I'll certainly be trying 'Dim sum' after all my receptionists work.

Toodle Pip!

Forbidden City

2011-05-26T10:45:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 25^th May 2011

5 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Take back the city – Snow Patrol

Weather: Blue skies over Beijing; did you hear what I said? Blue skies! Accompanying said skies was a cool breeze, which was most welcoming considering the sun had been beating down all day.

With no alarm set I found myself, trying to get up, at around 8am. I was still tired and yet, I knew that I had a busy day ahead of me; even outside my eye lids felt heavy and it took until breakfast to, eventually, wake myself up. I had planned on eating 'dim sum' (a traditional Chinese breakfast) however I couldn't find the restaurant my hostel had recommended; in the end I went into a small café where, unsurprisingly, I ordered a slice of cake and a hot chocolate. It wasn't long before a thick slice of 'banana, with caramel, cake' was sat in front of me accompanied by a hot chocolate. The cake was a little dry, but pleasant enough; the hot chocolate was nothing special. If I cannot find 'dim sum' tomorrow then I think I'll pop back as the price wasn't too bad. Once I'd settled my bill I continued to walk towards the Forbidden City.

It took a further thirty minutes to reach the Forbidden Cities northern gate. I purchased my entrance ticket and, unusually, I also paid for an audio guide. The British / American couple, I met yesterday, had recommended the guide as it was GPS controlled; this meant that you could walk freely, within the city, and the guide would follow you, instead of you following it … very handy if you see a big tour group coming. The guide was a blue rectangular box which hung lightly from a cord around my neck; a wire was plugged into said box and, on the other end, was a single ear piece. As I walked through the northern gate I heard my electronic tour guide speak for the first time; a female voice told me all about the gate before telling me what was coming up. Not only was the voice clear but the information was also interesting. At previous Chinese attractions any written information had been translated poorly, making it difficult for me, to understand, what the author was trying to say. A lot of times I would give up reading mid-way, but not with the audio guide; as soon as she started to speak I would find a shady spot to listen as I didn't fancy moving, in case I would trigger another passage before she'd finished what she was saying.

The time was around 10am and I knew the tour groups would be at full strength. I looked at the map, on the front of my audio guide, (which also told you where you were, at any given time, by a red light flashing at the corresponding spot on the map) and decided to cover the west, and east, wings before venturing into the touristy inner city. I hoped that the wings would take a couple of hours, therefore I'd hit the centre around lunch time. As I walked west I followed the stone paths surrounded by red walls and golden yellow Chinese roofs; the sky was bright blue which must be a first in the polluted capital of China.

On the 6^th November 2010 I was sat in my hostel, within Christchurch, waiting for my flight to Auckland. On TV was a documentary about the Chinese Expo site in Shanghai; in particular the documentary focused on the China Pavilion and the problem of making it look red. Until watching this programme I had no idea that, if you paint something as big as a building in one shade of red, the human eye, after a while, will perceive the colour to be green. I remember them going into great detail on why this occurs ... but that's not important. Why have I brought this up then? Well, within the documentary, the people responsible for making the China Pavilion visited the Forbidden City to learnt it's secrets. Even though all the buildings are painted red the Forbidden City doesn't look green when you gaze upon it; this is because its painted in many different shades of red and, as I walked around, I could see both light, and dark, reds.

Eventually I made it to the west wing; my audio guide sprung into life and explained that there were six palaces dedicated for the Emperors concubines. Some Emperors had more concubines than days within the year and, whilst at first, I thought this must have been ace I then began to imagine the nagging. Here the audio guide focused on life within the city and even told stories of betrayal, espionage and murder. I wandered freely looking at the many buildings and animal statues. Within some of the windows bed chambers, artefacts and living quarters could be seen however, the glass was dirty and the sun low in the sky; I had to put my face against the glass to be able to see in.

There were loads of hidden passages and I made my way through, seeing all six palaces, and keeping away from the minimal amount of tourists I found. After an hour of aimless wandering I found myself at the northern gardens, near to the northern gate. I was thirsty and I regretted not bringing anything to drink with me; as I approached a store, I prepared for a ludicrous price, ( I couldn't leave the city, for refreshments, as I would have to buy a new ticket to re-enter), only to be pleasantly surprised to find that a bottle of coke cost 40p. I by-passed hordes of tourists, fixed within the centre palaces, and made my way to the west side. Six palaces were also found, erected in the exact 2x3 pattern, as within the east wing; these were used by the emperor, the empress and the crown prince. As the emperor slept with both empress and concubines children from both were possible. If the empress was unable to provide a son then a concubines son could, if the emperor chose, become the crown prince. The crown prince would eventually become the emperor when the current one died and, unlike the British monarchy, the eldest child did not automatically become the next emperor. As you can tell competition could be fierce and my audio guide told stories of empresses killing concubines, and their offspring, to remain in power. It was pretty sad and some children had to be brought up in complete secrecy.

The west wing had also taken an hour and so the time was midday. Before entering the 'inner city' there was a special exhibition, costing ten Yuan (£1), set-up within some outer chambers. I don't like it when additional entry tickets are required but, as the cost was only £1, I purchased a ticket with little fuss. I was glad that I did. The 'treasures of the Forbidden City' themselves were interesting (the jade carvings were very impressive) but it was the reduced amount of tourists, allowing for clear photographs, that was the main benefit. I wondered slowly around the perimeter of the buildings, taking photos, before viewing the treasures at a faster pace.

After another hour I found myself at the western gates to the inner city; there was another special exhibition, costing ten Yuan, focusing on clocks. Again I paid to go in but, unless you have an unhealthy interest in time pieces, it wasn't worth the cost (though the level of craftsmanship was astonishing). I had hoped, being 1pm, that the tour groups would have retired for lunch, but no. The hordes were still heavy and moving around the 'inner city' became frustrating. It was easy to see why the crowds had congregated around here; unlike the palaces in both wings – where their perimeter walls made the area feel claustrophobic – the palaces here were surrounded by huge marble platforms, with stairs leading down to massive cobbled courtyards below. The amount of room dedicated to these important palaces was staggering; tourists, on the opposite side of the courtyard, began to look small. Before venturing forth I purchased an ice cream; my chosen ice cream had been made from frozen peas and I'd seen it advertised, yesterday, on the bus. As I bit into it, the coolness hit me instantaneously but, as for taste, nothing ventured forth. Seriously I cannot describe what the ice cream tasted of as there wasn't a taste; yet again the food, within my mouth, was bland.

Along the western edges, of the palace complexes, were exhibitions which held little interest; it was the buildings themselves that were the main event. With their golden roofs and red pillars they dominated their white marble platforms; my audio guide kept me in the past as I viewed each building knowing what it was used for. I did look in the buildings however, with the crowds congregated in huge mobs around each doorway, I didn't look for long. I continued south through giant gates, crossing huge courtyards, and up many marble steps taking in the splendour and beauty of the area. I found myself, at the southern entrance around 3pm, five hours after I'd entered. Here I found a small river with five arched bridges; each bridge was made out of white marble and most were full of tour groups heading north. I ventured both east and west to see further free exhibits before returning to the southern gate. Before visiting I'd thought that the Forbidden City may have been a 'white elephant'; however I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't and I'd loved every minute. The Forbidden City isn't as good as the Great Wall, or the Terracotta Warriors, but it's not far off.

The time was 3pm and, so far today, I'd eaten one ice cream and a slice of cake; I was starving and so I went to find food. I went south not stopping at Tian'anmen Square; I went past a KFC and didn't pause. I had a specific place in mind. Within my guidebooks '31 things not to miss' was trying Beijing Duck; as I read my guidebook it described Beijing Duck as crispy duck from home. I love crispy duck; I love the pancakes you wrap the duck in, I love the sauce you dip the pancake into and, in fact, it's one of my favourite foods. Starving I found the 'crispy duck' restaurant, that my guidebook recommended …however it was closed for lunch. It's 3:30pm! Why is a restaurant, in a capital city, closed! I left, still starving, heading back past KFC to another restaurant recommended. This one would be open within thirty minutes and so I waited; I purchased a bottle of coke and sat on a street bench watching the world go by. Once open I ventured into the restaurant and asked for a menu. On the first page was 'Beijing duck' but, unfortunately, it was £23 and you had to buy a whole duck, you couldn't order half. Annoyed I left and, by chance, I found another Beijing Duck restaurant close by. Here I could purchase duck for £12; it was a little expensive however it was 'a thing to do' within Beijing. I ordered my meal and waited.

I waited guessing that the duck wouldn't taste better than what I could get at home, though I did hope it would be similar. As my meal arrived the sauce, vegetables and the pancakes looked the same but the meat wasn't shredded, or dry. In fact the meat was slimey and swimming in grease; still I placed the meat within the pancake, dipped it into the sauce, and started to chew. As I devoured my face dropped; not only was the duck slimey but the sauce was bitter and I was gutted. To make matters worse, not only had I paid £12 for a meal that I could get, at home, cheaper and more delicious but the portion of duck was small meaning that, after eating, I didn't feel full. I thanked the waitress, for taking my money, and crossed the road to McDonalds. I made it back to my hostel around 7pm where I tried to book an acrobatic show for my final day of travel (Sunday). I wanted an afternoon performance - as I would need an early night for my early start the following day – however, as the lady typed something into her computer, she said that there was only one performance per day, at 7:30pm. I therefore changed my mind and asked for a Saturday performance; after a little more typing, and a phone call, the receptionist asked if 'I could go tomorrow?'. No was my reply and after a further few phone calls, and conversations, still no ticket. Time was ticking on and so I sat, with my PC, and asked the receptionist to come over to me when the problem was resolved. Finally a, very glum looking, receptionist came over; apparently the company, my hostel use, don't like doing weekend performances. The lady was phoning around other companies and said that she would let me know, if they could get me a ticket, tomorrow afternoon. I sat down and searched the web before retiring to bed. Tomorrow is another long day; firstly I want to head up the Jingshan hill - to get an overview of the Forbidden City - before visiting Tian'anmen Square. Hopefully then it'll be lunch and, after, I want to visit the Temple of Heaven. The attractions shouldn't take long but the travelling, between sights, might do.

Time is short and, this time next week, I'll be at home. I don't want to go home; Russia's so close. One more week … please!

Toodle Pip!

P.S. Yesterday, I forgot to include my weekly round up; my average spent has gone up to £30.62 but, when you think how much shopping I've done, it's not bad at all. There's nothing else new to report.

The Great Wall's great!

2011-05-24T09:23:00.001-07:00

Tuesday 24^th May 2011

6 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Another brick in the wall – Pink Floyd

Weather: Smoggy and hot, but with a strong breeze once upon the wall.

My alarm went off at 6am, however I didn't get out of bed. I stretched, and I closed my eyes, giving myself an extra fifteen minutes. Everything within my dorm creeks; the door creeks, my locker door creeks and even my bed creeks. I tried to get ready as quietly as possible but I'm sure I woke at least one person (and, if it was the guy opposite me, I wouldn't have cared as he was on his laptop until 2am last night… the light, from the screen, was shone right into my face). Once ready I made my way to the underground station that I'd used yesterday; the bus, to the wall, departed from a bus station located three underground stops away. One thing I always forget, when asking for directions, is which underground exit - if relevant - is needed. Asian underground stations are huge and, therefore, have many exits labelled alphabetically; I stood looking at an information board noticing that 'bus station' was labelled under exit 'B'. I still wasn't sure if the bus station was where I needed to go, but I thought it would be the best bet. Once at surface level I showed my Chinese directions to the first man, in a uniform, that I could find; he pointed to where hundreds of buses were turning right but, before heading in that direction, I hunted for breakfast.

I arrived, at the bus station, at 7:45am and found the stop for the '936' (the service that I required). Waiting were a group of Chinese and a 'father-daughter' couple from New Zealand; I chatted to the Kiwi's and we shared 'Great Wall' information to make sure that we had both been told the same thing. Apparently the Kiwi's had been told that you could only board the '936' if you had a valid 'Beijing travel card'. I hadn't. Fortunately their cards were low on funds and so we all headed off to the nearest kiosk. Due to construction work the nearest kiosk was a fair distance way and, once there, I handed over forty Yuan (the trip to the wall costs sixteen Yuan each way) to cover my forth coming trip and give me additional money for Beijing's underground. What I didn't know – until I got back to the bus stop – was that when purchasing a 'travel card', for the first time, the first twenty Yuan was a deposit, therefore I hadn't put enough money, on my card, to cover my journey. The time was 8:15am and, with the bus scheduled to arrive at 8:30am, I didn't have enough time to go back. I, along with four other tourists, decided to risk it and try to pay with cash.

8:30am came and went. I was starting to get impatient as it would take two hours to get to the wall, therefore it wouldn't leave long, to look around, before catching the penultimate bus back to Beijing (scheduled to leave at 2pm). At 9am the '936' finally swung into the bay; the driver, who didn't look to be in a particular hurry, casually opened the door and lit a cigarette. I boarded the bus and was glad to find that cash was allowed. I paid with cash leaving my travel card for the return journey.

Just like the food the scenery was bland; trees, mixed with buildings and smog, filled the view for hours. I was sat – rather cramped as leg room was non-existent – next to a lady from Bangladesh; she was a painter and her husband, sitting in the row in front, was an architect. She seemed to have travelled quite extensively and so we swapped stories for most of the journey. Eventually the early start caught up with me and I could feel my eye-lids becoming heavy; with the Bangladeshi lady already asleep, and the bland terrain outside, I too closed my eyes. Time rolled on and the bus made many stops. After two hours we made it to our first attraction – some tombs – where a lot of people alighted allowing all continuing passengers to sit. The time was 11am and we should have been at the wall by now, and yet, no wall could be seen on the mountains outside. It took a further thirty minutes to reach the 'Great Wall' car park. The last fifteen had been spent climbing up mountain roads turning, sharply, left and then right; I was glad to alight and, as I took in my surroundings, I could see a dirt path with small metal kiosks erected on each side. Each cabin held a store selling as many tacky souvenirs as possible. I made my way, past the cries from the vendors asking me if I wanted a 'glass dandelion', before finding the ticket office; time was ticking on and, annoyingly, the only woman in front of me was requesting inches of tickets. I looked at my watch ... 11:30am. If I was to catch the penultimate bus (as I don't like waiting for the last bus because, if I was to miss it, I would be stuck 60km's away from Beijing with people unable to speak English) I would have two hours on the walls and here, in front of me, was a lady asking for three hundred tickets where there was a 'group counter' a short walk further up the hill. What made it worse was that the group were Americans.

Eventually she slowly walked away, counting her tickets; I gave her a little push as I made my way to the counter. In a flash I received my ticket, by-passed the American group, and went through the barriers. Instead of taking the cable car I decided to walk; unlike Dali the path was well defined but it was just as steep. Stone step, after stone step, kept coming into view and after fifteen minutes I looked at the cable car with envy. As of now I still hadn't seen the wall; whilst in the car park the smog had been so bad that I couldn't see the mountain top. Even now the trees prevented the wall from coming into view though they did provide shade. Just before reaching the wall I saw, to my right, a metal toboggan run. On closer inspection tourists, for a fee, could toboggan down from the wall … which must be the most tackiest tourist trap I've ever seen. At this point I was a little sceptical; what would I find once I reached the top?

After thirty minutes, of continual climbing, I could see the wall; it wasn't that far away and looked free of tourist jargon. My pace quickened and, once past a lady selling drinks, I started to climb the ancient stone steps onto the wall. I cannot describe the feeling of those few moments; behind me stood a Chinese tower and, in front, I could see the wall dip before climbing up another mountain range to a higher position. It was breathe taking; history could be seen in every stone and it wasn't hard to imagine Chinese soldiers patrolling the section. A huge smile had broken upon my face and a feeling of relief consumed me; the Great Wall was the last big 'not to miss' of my tour and I'd made it.

I walked in the direction I faced. It wasn't long before I could see the full extent of the dip; the wall almost went vertical. Looking behind me the wall seemed a lot flatter and so I turned around and walked in that direction. I went through the nearest guard tower – stopping to look out of the windows – before venturing forth; it's quite difficult to walk the wall as it never seems to remain level. Due to visiting a part of the wall, miles out of Beijing, the crowds of tourists were at an all time low; I couldn't believe my luck as I started taking photos without the usual hordes of Chinese people in every shot. Even the smog, which hid some of the mountains from view, couldn't dampen my mood as I was consumed by history with every step. It had only taken thirty minutes to reach the part of the wall where I planned to walk back down to the car park. With so much time I decided to back-track focusing more on the view. As I looked over the battlements the valleys below were a long way down; looking up mountain ranges, covered in vegetation, criss-crossed each other until the smog hid the furthest from view. It was a beautiful sight however, with so much vegetation, I did wonder how easy it would have been to spot enemy movements, especially at night. I made my way back to where I'd climbed up to the wall with a crucial question rolling around my head; do I stay and catch the last bus? Certainly I hadn't enjoyed myself as much, at an historic site, since the Temples of Angkor and yet I knew, deep down, that if I stayed I would worry the whole time about missing the final bus. As I walked down from the wall, giving it one last glimpse, I wondered if I'd rushed my visit and would later regret it. I'd arrived around 11:30am, got to the wall at midday and found myself leaving at 1:15pm … would this be a regret of my trip? I continued to walk down, hearing the shouts of laughter come from the American tour group who were tobogganing back to their coach, wondering if I should return. I couldn't see what else I would gain from staying longer and yet the wall seemed to have a pull on me; I made it back to the ticket barrier and walked through defiant. I looked back still not sure if I'd made the right decision. Still I was out and so I had no other option than to wait at the bus stop.

I arrived, at the bus stop, with fifteen minutes to spare; there was a couple – the man was British and the woman was American – in front of me who I didn't speak to until a group of Chinese tried to push into the queue. I explained, to the Chinese, that the end of the queue was to the left and could they please 'jog on'. I was amazed that they listened and this made the couple laugh; we started to chat about our 'pet China hates' before boarding the 2pm bus back to Beijing, and carrying on the conversation inside. The two met each other whilst travelling in Europe and had lived in Prague for the last four years; now they were touring Asia for five months before returning to either America, or the UK … they both weren't sure which. We talked so much that time flew and before I knew it I was back in Beijing. One part of me was happy to be back, I had survived my last day-trip, via public transport, and yet the wall still called.

We walked together to the same underground station where we parted, taking different trains. I arrived at my hostel, around 5pm, to a smiling receptionist asking how my day was. I explained that I loved it though with only two buses in the morning, and two buses in the afternoon, the transport to the wall was terrible, time consuming and needed to be improved. I also mentioned the smog but both aspects hadn't spoilt the day; she just smiled and giggled as I went up to my room to put my camera away. I went out for an early tea before returning to my hostel to surf the web. I had a shower and went to bed early; hopefully the guy, opposite me, won't be on his laptop tonight so I can get a good night’s sleep. I want to be up early to visit the Forbidden City but no alarm will be set.

Toodle Pip!

Arrived in Beijing

2011-05-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

Monday 23^rd May 2011

7 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: When you were young – The Killers

Weather: Smoggy, hot but with a cooling breeze.

I awoke to an array of colour. A lady, from the carriage next to mine, must have been unable to decide what colour suited her the best. I sat up within my bunk and allowed my eyes to adjust; she had green boots, purple leggings and a multi-coloured top on; she was also displaying a red and yellow hand bag. Her attire was certainly interesting, but I wouldn't have said it was attractive. I looked at my watch to find 5:30am displayed on its face; my body reluctantly did what my mind wanted and I found myself, ready, fifteen minutes before our scheduled arrival time.

I was flicking between the view outside, and my watch, when I noticed that the trains arrival time had been ... and gone. The view outside was mainly rural therefore I wondered just how far away from Beijing we were; on closer inspection the sky was a dirty white colour, and the smog hid the trees from view. I knew that, with this amount of pollution, we must be close to a city but it still took another hour to arrive. At 6:45am I finally departed the train. This wasn't good; an hour earlier and I would have missed rush hour but now, with a lot of luggage, I would have to fight with Beijing's thousands. The first problem was finding the underground; this is the capital of the second biggest economy in the world, plus I stood in the largest train station in Asia therefore, I was confident, of finding an underground station nearby. I went to the local information centre - where the lady had to fetch someone who could speak English – to ask for the location of the nearest underground station; my mouth opened and a look of surprise was slapped, unintentionally, across my face when I was informed that this train station didn't have an underground link. I looked at my hostel directions; they only explained, getting to the hostel, via underground and, as I was starting to worry, the attendant calmly stated that bus '22', for three stops, would deliver me to the closest underground station.

It's the first time that I've had to pay for my luggage on a bus, but at 10p I didn't argue. The bus was packed and I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get off at my required stop. As we pulled away from 'stop two' I turned to the bus conductor who gave me a reassuring nod that the next stop was mine. The doors swung open and, for a split second, no one moved; I started to panic and then, almost as one, the passengers woke up and most alighted heading the same way as I. Once in the underground I was presented with a ticket machine similar to the ones in Shanghai; I had to press the 'touch screen', until my fingers broke, to select my required stop but I was surprised to find that the cost was only two Yuan (20p). I put my bags through the underground scanner and made my way to my platform.

By this time I was already hot and I regretted putting my coat on; my rucksack was starting to hurt and yet, as the train approached, I knew that there wouldn't be any rest for quite a while (it would appear that Beijing underground stations have no waiting seats). The first train arrived and each window had a 'China man', or two, pressed against it. I felt it was too full and yet, after a run-up, more Chinese managed to throw themselves on-board just as the doors closed … it was a work of art. I watched train, after train, after train go past with, what seemed like, the same Chinese people plastered against the windows. None of them could have held me, and my luggage, and so I waited realising that I might have to wait, on the station platform, for rush hour to be over. It was then that an underground attendant, and a female Chinese student, walked in my direction. The attendant looked at my bags and babbled something in Chinese; fortunately the student could translate for me and, basically, the woman was saying that I would be unable to board the train, that I required, with my luggage (tell me something I don't know). I noticed that the student had a large suit case of her own and we found ourselves in the same predicament. The first suggestion, the attendant came up with, is that we both shared a taxi; we walked over to a large underground map where we both pointed to our desired terminus. Unfortunately the student and I were heading in different directions; in the end we crossed platforms and alighted the empty train heading the other way. We traveled back, two stops before the end of the line, before crossing the platform, once more, and catching the train back the way we'd come; this allowed us to by-pass the crowds. The train was already full when we arrived back at the underground station we started at; and yet Chinese people were still lunging themselves inside. The girl and I chatted for most of the trip; she too had come from Louyang and she was here for a university meeting. As well as her enormous suit case, she had an old fashioned wooden basket full of cherries, which she offered to me.

Eventually we arrived at a station where we both had to change trains; as soon as the train doors opened the passengers burst onto the platform and we followed them up the steps to 'line 2'. This train was full, but not anywhere near as bad as the one I'd just been on. Unfortunately, as the first train came in, the student got on but I failed to; as the doors closed I waved her goodbye and waited for the next train, which was only two minutes later.

I eventually arrived at my desired terminus; for this whole period I'd had my rucksack on my back, my coat on and my armpits pouring with sweat. I traveled up an escalator and, as soon as the sun light hit me, I found a small stone seat lying vacant. I stumbled as I walked over to the seat and sat down with a large sigh of relief; I drank what was left of my water and read the rest of my hostels directions. 'The hostel is 300m south of the underground station'; pulling my aching body onto it's feet, I walked the final steps to my hostel. Check-in went without incident and I was glad to find that my bed was ready. Once within my dorm I noticed that it was full of 'bog standard' travelers; this was good on the one hand, but it wasn't half messy. I also noticed that all eight lockers – for an eight bed dorm – were taken, which was highly annoying. Being 8:30am people were still asleep and so I quietly went through the process of unpacking. Due to the squeeze on the underground I went through each and every souvenir – making sure that they had made the journey (they had) – before collecting my laundry into one bag.

After I found myself sat within reception with a giggling, but very nice, receptionist facing me. I asked her many questions and she answered them all; she was lovely and, where she felt I might have to ask a local for help, she wrote my query down in Chinese. The only downside was that the section, of the Great Wall, I'd planned to visit was under reconstruction. She gave me directions to another part of the wall and said that it was just as beautiful. I thanked the receptionist and walked out of the hostel. Yesterdays pizza had done it's work but, now, I found myself hungry. Being 10:40am it was an annoying time; too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. I decided to grab lunch anyway as that would free up the afternoon for sightseeing; as I sat I planned my final days traveling:

- Today: Laundry, souvenir shopping and Yonghegong Lama Temple

- Tuesday: The Great Wall

- Wednesday: The Forbidden City

- Thursday: Jingshan Park, Tian'anmen Square, Temple of Heaven

- Friday: The Summer Palace

- Saturday: Photograph the city

- Sunday: Clothes shop plus acrobatic show

After realising that I had a full itinerary I quickened my eating and walked back to my hostel. First of all I inquired about a good place to purchase souvenirs. The good news was that there was a street, close-by, that sold all sorts of souvenirs; the bad news was that it was located just where I'd dined for lunch. I walked back the way I'd come and stumbled across an old, but fake, Chinese street. I browsed through the shops quickly almost getting hit, on the head, by a huge piece of concrete from the roof above (seconds away from possible death). Eventually I found the souvenir, that I was after, but the asking price was ridiculous; after a short while I managed to lower the price to 10% of its original sum. That price was still over the odds but time was short, and I felt it wasn't worth bargaining any further; now happy I walked back to my hostel with the final parts of my souvenir shopping completed.

Annoyingly, with only one week to go, I had to do laundry. I'd put a load on – in the worlds smallest washing machine – before I'd gone souvenir hunting and, once back, it was ready to dry. The receptionist said that, due to Beijing's warm and dry climate, a tumble drier wasn't necessary and that I could hang my clothes on the fourth floor balcony. What she failed to mention was that there were no washing line and so, after a year of travel, my washing line became handy. The time was 1:30pm and, with my laundry drying, I decided to start my Beijing sightseeing. Looking at my map I noticed that a temple – which my guidebook had in its '31 things not to miss in China' – was within walking distance. I left my hostel and walked for twenty minutes before reaching the 'Yonghe Gong Temple'; along my chosen walking route I bumped into three tour coaches, spilling out Chinese people wearing the same coloured baseball hat. I hoped that they weren't heading in the same direction as I, and I was reassured when, looking at my map, their coaches had dropped them off quite far from the temple.

As I approached the temple I struggled to find an entrance; I'd just found a sign, indicating that the entrance was 150 meters further south, when a short white woman, with sunglasses, asked if I knew where the entrance was. I pointed south and she walked with me; it turns out that she was Israeli and, though she was nice to chat to, she did have an annoying habit of apparently knowing everything already. We chatted continuously - much to the shock of the local Chinese, who searched to find the source of this alien language – until we reached the temple entrance. My guidebook had described the 'Yonghe Gong Temple' – 'Tibetan Lama Temple' – as touristy, but a must see. I'd say that the guidebook had got the information the wrong way around; the temple was interesting, with it's many wooden buildings all painted red, but I wouldn't say that it was any different from any of the other temples I've seen within China. The Wanfu Pavilion, on the other hand, was worth the twenty-five Yuan entrance fee alone; an eighteen meter-high statue, of the Maitreya Buddha, was erected high in the middle of the main temple building. Built from a single trunk of Sandalwood – a gift for Emperor Quianlong from the seventh Dalai Lama – the wood was Tibetan and it took three years to ship to Beijing. Both of us gazed up at the Buddhas face, deciding that the temple must have been built around the statue, as it just fit. I've seen many Buddhist statues in my travels but this one was different; the way it was carved gave it so much life and it was a shame that photography was forbidden (though, of course, you could purchase a photo of the statue). The Israeli and I, walked around the temple, for around an hour diving into its many rooms of worship whilst chatting about this and that. She, of course, was always right but it was interesting to hear that she was returning to Israel, in two months, after four years working in Macu.

Once out of the temple we went for a drink before splitting up; she was going to see an acrobatics show whereas I needed to buy supplies for tomorrows planned trip to the Great Wall. Once completed I went back to my hostel to surf the internet – which I have to pay for as the wifi, yet again, isn't working for me – to find out the latest F1 results and to check my flight details. I brought my washing, and my washing line, back into my dorm and had a shower before going to sleep around 9pm. I'd been up since 5am and so I was shattered, plus an early start was needed tomorrow for my trip to the wall!

Toodle Pip!

Shopping

2011-05-23T12:23:00.000-07:00

Sunday 22^ndMay 2011

8 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Love the way you lie – Eminem and Rihanna

Weather: Still smoggy and still cool.

Something new should be tried everyday; therefore I found myself ordering only one McDonald's pineapple pie and one of their 'other pies'. I'd seen this 'other pie' advertised before however, with a bright pink centre, I'd avoided all contact with it … until now. As I bit through the sugary pastry the taste that followed wasn't much to write home about. No really, I couldn't tell you what the pink centre tasted of; it wasn't vile, yet it wasn't interesting. Once again I'd found a product that was bland. I finished eating it and moved onto the, much more tasty, pineapple pie.

Today was clothes shopping day and I made my way to the 'cheap stores', pointed out by my hostels receptionist. These stores were located around my favourite traffic intersection; the same traffic police women could be seen and, it would appear, that yesterday's 'love my neighbourhood' programme had rolled on. A different group of students were out and yet they were as useless as yesterday’s lot.

For the previous two days loud bangs could be heard all around Louyang. Two logical explanations came to mind; firstly World War Three had broken out and the fighting had centred around Louyang ... or someone was letting off fireworks. I wouldn't advise either; firstly China has the largest population of any country and so a military campaign could take a while. Secondly letting off fireworks in broad day light – with a sky covered in smog – wasn't going to give you 'value for money' (and you would have thought that the Chinese would know this as they invented fireworks). I shrugged at either scenario and made my way into a rather seedy looking shopping centre. Once through a plastic barrier I saw hundreds of shoes sitting on top of piles of boxes. I quickly glanced at them making my way to the centre of the building; some price tags could be seen and nothing was above £20. I decided to view the shoes on my way out; I went upstairs to where the men's clothing section was.

The second floor was devoted to men's clothes; I walked around the perimeter of each stall, as I didn't want to go in as that would trigger a saleswoman to walk towards me speaking Chinese. Once I'd completed a full loop, of the floor, I'd spotted two polo shirts that I liked; I walked cautiously in between the isles of clothes towards my intended target. A shop assistant countered my every move and we seem to arrive, at the product in question, at the same time. A green 'Joop' polo shirt hung in front of me; I was quite happy feeling the quality, looking for holes and trying to find a price tag but this woman insisted I try it on. At £12 I refused as I thought the price was too high; I backed away from the woman and went to the second polo shirt where another saleswoman had already pre-empted my movements. This polo shirt – white with green stripes – was in a sale at £5. I tried it on and liked the look of it. Therefore my clothes shopping had commenced.

I went back down to the bottom floor to view the stores that I'd missed. I stopped at a belt shop noticing the price was only £3.90 per belt. These belts were 'designer labelled' too but I hadn't heard of the brand before. The belts were leather with a sliding fastening system (instead of the usual buckle). With only a simple, small, cat logo I bought two different belts. I turned around to find a 'designer' shop, with polo shirts for just over £5; the lady pulled out a white, with purple stripe, polo shirt and put it to my chest. She nodded, satisfied, and I too liked it. I tried it on and decided to have it. All-in-all I'd spent £17 on two 'designer' polo shirts, and two 'designer' belts, in two hours. Obviously I liked all the stuff I'd bought, though I still contemplated about purchasing that green 'Joop' shirt. I searched around the shoe section finding two pairs of converse that I liked. Alas the assistant looked stunned at the size that I'd requested; she waved her hand suggesting that she didn't have any converse that big. She tried to offer me some trainers but I didn't like the design; still it was comforting to know that trainers might not be a problem. I left the shopping centre and went back to my hostel.

I was still thinking about that green polo shirt as I read my guidebook. With seventy pages devoted to Beijing it didn't take me long to realise that I had my work cut out fitting in all the sites. I left my hostel around 4pm; in the end I decided to purchase the green polo shirt before heading to Pizza Hut for lunch/tea. I'd been hungry all day but I'd bid my time so that I could roll both meals into one; I wouldn't have time to eat anything else later. I haven't have pizza for a month and it was divine; I enjoyed every mouthful and left feeling very full. Once I'd waddled back to the hostel I grabbed my luggage and, slowly, made my way to the train station.

Looking at my watch I knew the walk had taken fifteen minutes … but it felt so much longer. Additional weight within my backpack, and a new suitcase, made the journey slow and hot. Once through security, and in the waiting room, I found it difficult to find a seat as most of the Chinese had taken two seats by putting a small amount of groceries on one, and themselves on another. Not standing for this I put my excessive amount of luggage on one seat (remember the Chinese spit on the floor) before sitting on another after a gentleman had moved his pot noodle. I wasn't in the waiting room for long; within ten minutes the gates opened and I walked onto the platform before struggling into my hard sleeper carriage.

Fortunately my fellow cabin mates had little luggage and so I managed to fill the space. I sat down on the lower bunk and finished reading about Beijing. Like I said earlier, there's a lot to do in Beijing and I've made a list of 'must do's' (including trying two types of food) before I leave. Beijing is going to be busy.

Toodle Pip!

Does green and red go?

2011-05-21T14:06:00.000-07:00

Saturday 21^th May 2011

9 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Business - Eminem

Weather: Smoggy and cool; it's nice to be able to wear my coat again.

I was freezing last night; for some reason the Chinese had set the air-conditioning to eighteen degrees. I found myself, curled up within a ball, wrapped up in my duvet. I eventually woke around 7:30am to find the Malayan woman already gone out for the day; I shivered as I crossed to the door and then, once outside, I acclimatised to the normal temperature of Louyang. My first job was to photograph the city; I new this wouldn't take long as there wasn't much to photograph. As I walked around I by-passed McDonald's wondering if they had any Pineapple Pie goodness. They had.

Once back on the road I met a large group of Chinese students; as I approached they all formed groups of threes whilst staring, pointing and giggling at me. I would later find out that they were part of an initiative; 'love the community' was it's name and their task, for the day, was to help out … mainly on traffic duty. I walked past the group, ignoring the 'hello's' followed by a childish snigger, as I made my way to Louyang's main park. Located through an old – but fake - Chinese gateway music could be heard from within and people in costumes were handing out leaflets; it wasn't until I was in the park that I saw an isle of tents, each one exhibiting residential models. I had no idea what was going on but I decided to look around the rest of the park first before inquiring.

The park was pretty but no different to any other park I'd visited within China. Stone pathways curved around flower beds and a pagoda sat in the middle. If the sky wasn't so white some parts, of the park, would have been photogenic; instead I felt as though I was forced to take photos as a reminder that I'd visited, not as a form of art. The park was small; I'd completed the west side and found myself back at the isle of information tents; even now curiosity didn't get the better of me and I walked past heading to the east end of the park. This part was dedicated to a small amusement area with tacky rides; there was a haunted house which, at £1.50, tempted me in so I could judge the level of tackiness. I declined; being 9am in the morning I wouldn't bother as place looked shut. Before leaving the amusement area I stumbled past a small zoo; from the condition of the outer wall the zoo didn't look that well cared for. I just hoped that the same couldn't be said for the condition of the animals, but I would be lying if I felt that they were being treated any better.

I made it back to the line of tents and slowly looked into each and every one. If I was a betting man I'd guess that a new residential area was being erected and these tents were the possible contract winners; it felt as though today was their day to win the public's vote. All the information was in Chinese, so I can't be sure what was going on, though this little problem didn't stop a smiling 'tigger' handing me a leaflet. I did see prices, next to photos of dwellings like you would find in an estate agents window; I couldn't believe that the figures presented were the asking rent prices, as most were less than £100. Once out of the park I back-tracked and walked past McDonald's; not stopping I took a photo of Louyang's main road before coming to another park. I walked around said park – which was really a large rectangle surrounded by roads – in only a few minutes whilst photographing the objects of interest. Whilst within this area I saw some of the students from this morning, holding red flags, positioned at the four corners of a neighboring road junction. One was texting a mate, the other was drinking whilst the third was chatting to an official. The fourth wasn't much use either as he held his red flag down no matter what colour the traffic lights were on. The other interesting aspect about this junction was that it held four, female, traffic police. All, I reckon, were in their twenties and looked hot in their uniforms; with a 'Mcflurry' stand behind me I could have stood there all day but, in the end, I decided that it would have been a waste of time.

To finish my last tourist act within Louyang, I ventured north, to the train station, for a cheeky photo before coming back to my hostel. The good news was that my train ticket had arrived, it was for tomorrow and it cost £10 less than they'd asked for. The bad news was that it was a hard sleeper. At this point I was glad that they'd managed to get me on any train to Beijing, let alone the date that I wanted. As the receptionist passed the ticket over to me I paused and looked at it glumly; my final long distance travel ticket was in my hands. Flights get you to countries but it's the seven hour bus ride, or the eleven hour train trip, that really get you to your desired location. This was my final trip and I must have looked a little sad as I thanked the receptionist.

I walked slowly to my dorm, and put my camera away, before venturing back outside to find a holdall for my souvenirs. The ladies, on reception, had marked a shop where suit cases could be bought; I found myself, with two out of my four souvenir boxes, walking in the shops direction. Once there I found all the suit cases to be expensive; I would have been luckily to walk away with a suit case costing less than £80. I declined the saleswoman's offers and head back outside; pausing for a moment I tried to remember where I'd seen suit cases, on sale, before. It didn't take me long to remember that supermarkets, within China, sell everything and so off I went to my local.

The only problem with Chinese supermarkets is that you aren't allowed to bring bags, or boxes, inside. There were secure lockers - to place your possessions - however that would defeat the object; I needed my two boxes so that I could see if four would fit into a case. As I traveled down the escalator I noticed a small bag shop in front of me; at £40 I thought the hard suit case – with wheels – was still a little steep however it did fit my two boxes, side by side, perfectly. I then lifted one box on top of the other to check the height and that was just right too. I knew it would be perfect for my souvenirs but it did look a little too large for hand luggage; my souvenirs were delicate and so hand luggage was a must. I'm not very good at spending time over mundane things and so I paid the £40, placed my two boxes within the case and rolled it towards the exit. Once again I'll worry about future problems later.

I dropped my new suit case off, within my dorm, before going out for lunch; I had the rest of today, and tomorrow, to purchase clothes so I planned, this afternoon, to be a reconnaissance mission only. I had a list of items that I wanted; nothing much just a, few polo shirts, trainers (which I doubt that they will have in my size), a few belts and some more beanie hats. I went back to the shopping complex, where I'd bought my suit case, and started my observations. First thing I noticed were the shop assistants; some (mainly the old) were horrified that a non-Chinese speaking person had entered their store, others (mainly the young) giggled and said 'can help you I'. In either case I had someone follow me as I browsed their goods, occasionally speaking in Chinese to me. I hate people following me as I shop, as it puts me on edge; this was made even worse by the realisation that I hadn't shaved for a while, I had longish hair and a rip in my shirt. Still I continued to browse ignoring the assistants.

As I moved from shop to shop something wasn't right. I'd been lead to believe that clothes were cheap in China and, here I was, being presented with prices ranging from £9-£11 for a polo shirt, £6 for a belt and £36 for a pair of trainers. I've only just started to enjoy clothes shopping; previously I would order everything from a catalogue as it seemed the more logical way to shop (no crowds, less time, comfort of your own home and free delivery). So here I was not really sure what was a bargain, and what wasn't. Add to this that I was in a country that couldn't communicate to me and, all-in-all, it was proving to be more difficult than telling a Thai tuk-tuk driver that I didn't want to buy cannabis.

I browsed and I browsed realising that I must be in the wrong place; I therefore went back into the supermarket to find their clothes section. Once there some items were more like the prices I'd been expecting; I found a Lacoste polo shirt (the shirts with a crocodile on) for £4 and converse shoes for £3.50. I didn't like the design of the shirt, and the shoes weren't in my size; I left and walked around many more stores but not really gaining much ground. In the end I found a pair of trainers, and three shirts, that I liked but none of them were cheap enough for me to part with my cash. I returned to my hostel, empty handed, and inquired if the receptionists knew were any cheap clothes stores could be found. After much debating the receptionists marked a few stores on my map which I will check out tomorrow. For now I went up to my dorm to start searching the internet.

As I walked into my dorm I noticed that the Chinese group had checked-out and that the Malayan woman, still smiling, was on her computer. She noticed my new suit case and I showed her it's contents before leaving to book a hostel within Beijing. All was going well and my hostel had been booked, blog written and photos uploaded by 9pm. I spent the rest of the evening having a shower and an early night. Tomorrow I'll continue my clothes shopping before taking the 19:28 train to Beijing. Great Wall here I come!

Toodle Pip!

Do fish sleep?

2011-05-20T13:35:00.000-07:00

Friday 20^th May 2011

10 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Du Hast - Rammstein

Weather: Today's weather was odd; its like the day never got past dawn. The smog was thick, preventing the sun from breaking through, making the whole day seem gloomy. The morning was cold, due to a strong breeze, and I regretted putting my shorts on; in the afternoon rain fell, however it felt acidic.

I didn't plan being up until midnight, but that's what happened; the Malayan woman and I passed the time chatting about our individual travels. As the conversation went on I felt a lot of respect for this young woman; she's from a country that isn't very rich and yet she's managed to visit Europe, the Middle East and Asia - on separate occasions - all by saving for three years before traveling for two months each time. It would appear that traveling is her passion and it was lovely to see her smile as she gave details about her trips. I do not begrudge the fact that she's traveled more than I; giving up your job in a country, where there's no social welfare, takes a lot of courage and it would appear that she's had to scrimp, save and fight for every bus ticket. As I put my head on my pillow I felt guilty; here was I, traveling for a year, without sacrifice and, two beds away, was a lady who had given up everything to concentrate on seeing the world. A remarkable woman.

Even though I'd had a late night I awoke early; the Malaysian woman was up too and, just before I left for the day, she handed me half of her 'Chinese Swiss-roll' saying that she wouldn't be able to eat it all. She continued to say that, to save money, she traveled with a lot of food and, me eating half of her cake, would lighten her bag. I thanked her before leaving; I hardly ever travel with food as the additional weight is unbearable. As I walked down the stairs, and onto the street, I realised that some nations don't have the luxury of paying that little bit more for additional comfort.

After breakfast I tracked down the number eighty-one bus. In truth it wasn't that much of a hunt as the receptionist had told me where to board from; I got on the bus and showed the driver a piece of paper indicating my destination. He gave me a smile, and a nod, so I sat down and started to read about the Longmen Caves. As I read I hardly noticed that bus stops were being announced in English; these are the first English speaking announcements I've heard, within China, and Louyang isn't even a tourist town. I eventually finished reading; I put away my book to find the bus full. All seats were taken and a handful of people were stood within the isle; as if on queue a group of old ladies boarded and I reluctantly gave up my seat (I can't wait to be old). For once the old lady seemed genuinely grateful and, as people departed the bus, she always looked around to see if I'd found another seat. Once stood up I had to bend down slightly to see the world outside; it was a mixture of urban development and smog. As you can tell it wasn't that pleasing on the eye and the amount of dirt, plastered on the sides of huge skyscrapers, didn't help. As I looked at the old lady I realised that she wasn't on her own; it would appear that she was apart of a group of seven consisting of three elderly ladies, two mental middle-aged men and a normal looking woman (who, I guessed, was the groups minder). I could tell that the group was discussing my misfortune of, now, being the only person still standing; I honestly didn't mind but, on two occasions, the lady in charge came to me and offered her seat. I smiled but refused; she got up again and pointed to an empty seat I'd failed to see. She, wondering why I hadn't taken it up, got out of her seat and walked in it's direction. I noticed her actions, spotted the empty seat, and sat down. She seemed content and so she returned to her seat and not another word was mentioned.

It took an hour to reach the terminus; the English announcement let me know that I'd arrived at the Longman Caves though, once off the bus, I'd wished it had instructed me in which direction to head. I started to walk in one direction before turning around and, after seeing a sign, walking in the other. It was a long walk, with the river to one side and an endless row of souvenir shops on the other. I hoped that a repeat of yesterday’s tourist trap wasn't going to occur and, fortunately, the tourist shops ended at a huge stone platform with a rock in the middle. Taking a closer inspection of said rock I could see Chinese writing written upon it; obviously I had no idea what it said though, from the fact that individual Chinese people wanted their photo taken with it, I reckoned it must have marked the start of the caves. As I looked around I was a little at a loss; with the heavy smog in the sky I couldn't see a ticket office, entry gate or anything touristy. All I could see was the river, a half built multi-story car park and a European style bridge and it was at this point that I wished the row of souvenir stalls had continued; it would have made getting to the entrance much easier. In the end I followed a Chinese couple towards the river front.

After a few steps I could see, in the distance, a ticket office. The ticket office was positioned on the west side of a huge stone square; said square seemed to be filled with banners. Like an army preparing for war these banners attracted people, and individual units were being deployed ready to enter the site. My pace quickened; there were more tour groups here than at the Shaolin Temple and my aim was to enter the site before they did. In my haste I didn't have time to query the increase in entry price (my guidebook said 80 Yuan whereas the price displayed was 120 Yen £12), I asked for one ticket and raced to the ticket barriers, sliding to a stop in front of the tour groups. Once inside the complex I moved quickly, taking a few photos of the river before walking to the caves. As I approached my heart sank; in front of me banners could be seen waving in the wind and I realised that a vanguard of tour groups had already been deployed. Determined for them not to ruin my day, I went up a set of metal steps to the view the first lot of caves

The Longmen caves weren't what I thought they were going to be. I'd visualised a cave with many Buddhas carved into the stone walls, however it wasn't really a cave at all. Niches, of various different sizes, had been chiseled into the mountainside and in each sat a stone carving of a Buddha. There were thousands of small compartments, lining the side of the wall, and then in three places, stood large niches able to hold Buddhist statues that were seventeen meters in height. The small statues weren't that interesting; a lot of them had been disfigured due to either looting, weather or the cultural revolution. The most interesting aspect about these smaller niches was the sheer amount of them.

The three areas of large statues all had a set of steps you had to ascend up. The first and third sets of figures were interesting but time had lessened their features; it was the second set which required more attention. With three men, on each side of her, the seventeen meter high Vairocana Buddha statue dominated the scene. Her features had hardly been touched, by time, and it was nice to see that, where repair could have been done, she had been left alone adding a hint of realism. The statues, to her immediate flanks, hadn't fared as well as her but the outer guardians were very impressive; almost as tall as Vairocana these four outer statues had more life, within their poses, than she did and one, in particular, grabbed my attention.

In the distance I could hear the beating of drums, the sounds of battle horns and the flags over the horizon (well, popping up from behind the stair case). I realised that this was my queue to leave the area and so I surrendered the territory, I'd gained, to the tourist groups and headed back down the steps to continue walking along the mountain side. Things were starting to feel similar with the same water flowing behind me, the same type of sculptures erected and the same breeze preventing me from getting warm. I therefore walked the final yards before stepping through the exit; since viewing the temples of Angkor nothing Buddhist has captivated me in the same way. I realised then that the Cambodian temples were both a pleasure and a curse; a pleasure to see such magnificent structures and a curse in that, anything I seem to view afterwards, never excites me in the same way.

To get back to my bus stop I had to cross the river and walk up the east bank. Along the eastern shores were three secondary attractions including more sculptures, a temple and a tomb. As the ticket barrier, to the remaining sculptures, was the first in view I presented my ticket and was allowed through. The sculptures were very similar to the ones I'd already scene, just a lot less of them; the joyous aspect was that it seemed to be missed by many tourists. For the first time, within the Louyang caves, I found myself alone and I enjoyed the walk up the mountainside and through the trees. The carvings were quite worn and so they held little interest; the view, on the other hand, was decent enough so that I could see the whole western mountainside. Thousands of small holes could be seen with the bigger sculptures easily identifiable.

Next up stood a mountain temple; I was a little out of breathe when I handed my ticket to the ticket inspector. Inside there wasn't anything new to compare with the other Chinese temples I've already seen. It was at this point that my camera memory card became full; I had a spare card but, normally, I would have gone back into town to purchase another spare ready for when this one became full. With less than two weeks left I felt that another memory card wasn't necessary; just another small reminder that my trip was drawing to a close.

Once down from the temple I went through the eastern exit barrier; I guessed that I must have missed the tomb and, as I was preparing to head across another bridge back to the west bank, I saw a ticket barrier to my right. I ventured forth and realised that the tomb lay within; for the final time today I presented my ticket and was allowed to pass. The tomb site was actually a small park with many sets of stone steps – that shone due to the sheer volume of traffic – winding up the side of a mountain. Part way up I noticed two pools with fish in each; as I continued to stare the fish remained still. None were floating on the top – and Chinese tourists were taking photos of them – so I guessed they weren't dead; maybe they were sleeping? As I continued my walk I asked myself this very important question ... do fish sleep? I tried asking the Chinese but they didn't know either.

The tomb was located at the highest point of the park; there wasn't much to see, just a large stone circle filled with earth. On top, the earth had been landscaped into a mound and plants grew. There were stone tablets within the area but they held little interest. The time was 11am and so I stopped and found a seat to eat the Chinese cake given to me by the Malayan girl. It was nice but still quite bland. As I was still hungry I ate a few biscuits before completing the perimeter of the park and heading out the way I'd come in.

Once across the bridge I again walked past the half built car park, and through the souvenir stalls, before stopping at my required bus stop. The driver of the first eighty-one service waved his hand to prevent me from boarding. It didn't matter, not long after another bus arrived. After I'd boarded I noticed that the old ladies, from this morning, were also heading back into town. We said hello, in our individual languages and, this time, we all got a seat. The journey was as eventful as this morning and, at around 1pm, I alighted outside of my hostel. Before finding lunch I had a couple of jobs to do; firstly, as I was only booked-in for three nights, I wanted to extend my stay for another night. I didn't think this was a problem as, so far, my dorm had only ever been occupied by myself and one other. Secondly I wanted to purchase a train ticket to Beijing (my final stop) for Sunday before asking for souvenir advice. Once back in my dorm I noticed that almost all of the beds had been taken; this would make a nice change (as long as they all weren't Chinese) however, I was a little concerned about being able to extend my stay. Once in reception the extension didn't seem a problem, however the train to Beijing did. Booked, booked, booked; every single soft sleeper was booked for the next ten days. I sat back not able to believe it. I therefore had no other option, I asked the lady to find me a hard sleeper for either tomorrow, Sunday or Monday night. She made a phone call and asked for some money; she said that she would see what she could do and I would have to come back later. I'd given her times but, at that point, I had no idea what I was going to get. If the hard sleepers were full then the only alternative was to take a train back to Xi'an, and transfer there to Beijing, as they had a lot more departures but it meant losing a day.

If at all possible I didn't really want a hard sleeper; firstly this was my last train journey and I wanted a little comfort. Secondly, and most importantly, a soft sleeper has four beds whereas a hard has six. Being able to sit up on a hard sleeper was impossible and there was bound to be more luggage. The luggage aspect was more of a concern to me than height (considering most trains departed late in the evening and arrived early within the morning) due to the fact that I'll be carrying additional clothes, and souvenirs, that have to be stored with my usual luggage. With four people to a birth it shouldn't have been a problem, but with six? I decided not to worry about it, what will be will be. The beds were quite long and so I could scrunch up a little to gain extra luggage space.

After lunch I went to buy souvenirs. I can't really comment any further on this as it will spoil the surprise once home; all I can say was that I spent the next hour, or so, talking to a guy who could only say, in English, 'please sit down' and that the smell of the retail outlet was pleasant. I left, two bags in each hand, wondering how on earth I was going to get all this lot home. Yet again I decided to cross that bridge once I came to it.

It was getting late and so I went back to the hostel to upload my photos, have something to eat and check upon my train ticket. No movement had occurred with my train ticket – which was a little annoying – and so I decided to head for an early night as I was shattered. The plan for tomorrow is to have a lie-in before photographing Louyang. This shouldn't take too long and, after, I plan to start my clothes shopping. I'm also planning on purchasing another bag – of some sort – to help carry the load. I think a taxi will be needed at Beijing train station.

Toodle Pip!

Tags:

2) World Trip

China – Luoyang

Kung - Fu

2011-05-19T11:01:00.000-07:00

Thursday 19^th May 2011

11 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Kung-Fu fighting – Carl Douglas (could it have been any other song?)

Weather: Not anywhere near as hot as yesterday; a cool breeze ran through both the Shaolin Temple and Luoyang. The smoggy sky, though, could still be seen in both places.

As it turned out I didn't have the room to myself last night. Later on that evening a Japanese guy, called Honk, turned up and he chatted to me for a while. I was already for bed; he, having seen this, kept the conversation brief. He was a nice guy and, in the morning, he was up the same time as I. I was hurrying but he wanted to carry on last nights conversation; finally he left me his email address, and phone number, as he too will be travelling to Beijing soon. This is the second person in as many days who's given me their contact details; the 'nutter' from the train also gave me his. Why I wasn't sure; at least the Japanese guy could speak English, the 'nutter' could only speak Chinese therefore phoning him would be the biggest waste of time. Why beautiful women, wearing very little, didn't give me their contact details I will never know … but it had become annoying that I could only get email addresses from the weird.

I eventually broke free from the conversation and left my dorm. Being hungry I went for breakfast before walking towards the bus station. 'You want bus to Shaolin?' I heard many times over. Each time asked I replied with a straight no; I knew that they were trying to get to me into one of their private mini-vans, which isn't what I wanted. The mini-vans would charge at least double what the coach would cost and they wouldn't be any faster. Even when I got to the bus station I was still hounded by one mini-van provider; I was starting to loose my temper and with a loud 'no' the guy disappeared. One of the bus station attendants, after seeing my distress, took pity on me and escorted me onto the correct service. She made sure that the driver dropped me off at the right stop and smiled before leaving; I thanked her and choose to sit right at the front of the coach so that I could keep an eye on the driver, and receive any indication that we were close to the temple.

I'd arrived at 8:15am; yesterday the receptionist told me that the coach departed every hour, either on the hour or at half-past. As 8:40am approached I realised that we wouldn't be leaving until 9am meaning that I'd wasted forty-five minutes. Still it's all swings and roundabouts; in Xi'an I was lucky to catch a service that was just about to depart and here I was first person on-board the coach. As I couldn't do anything about it I sat back, watched the chaos of a Chinese bus station unfold in front me, hummed the 'Everybody loves Kung-fu fighting' song and remembered the reason why I was going to see the Shaolin Temple. American Shaolin, by Matthew Polly, is a book that I've read detailing two years of his life training at the Shaolin temple. He gave up his chance to study at college and travelled, on his own, to China in the 1990's. Even though it wasn't particularly well written it was a gripping read and it left me wanting to see the site where the story had occurred.

Just before 9am a lot of activity seemed to happen. Firstly, on the coach to my left, two Chinese guy's were kicking a large delivery into the cargo hold when out poured loads of blood … I was glad that my bag wasn't in there. Then people, in ones or twos, started to board my coach; it wasn't anywhere near full yet the coach driver seemed satisfied when he counted how many customers he had. Eventually, with the twist of a key, the coach roared into life and we were off. The suburbs of Luoyang changed into small towns and villages that had the feel of South East Asia; as I looked out of my window the design of the small urban areas felt very poor and reminded me of Laos. It seemed odd for the world’s second biggest economy and I realised just how much work China still had to do. Eventually we started to climb into the mountains where the views became more interesting, though not that spectacular; due to the heat the earth was dry and dusty, with a few plants clinging to life. The mountains had less definition than the ones within the Tiger Leaping Gorge; the sides were more rounded and the tops curved into a dome shape instead of the straight, vertical sides I remember from almost a week ago. Small pieces of rock spread out thinly across the sides of the mountains and down into the valley below. I sat back and continued to look outside; the Chinese guy next to me obviously didn't like the view and stretched over to close the curtain. I think he got the message when I re-opened it.

Eventually the coach pulled up and the driver indicated that this was my stop; actually I didn't need his help due to a large statue, of a monk in a Kung-fu pose, giving the area away. I still thanked him and I asked where I picked up the return coach to Luoyang. He pointed to a spot and gave me a schedule on the back of a business card. I disembarked the coach and headed in the direction of the crowds; as I paused for a second – taking in water and getting my camera ready – I surveyed the area. In front of me was a dark stone path that leading to a white stone gate; said gate was flanked, on each side, by a line of souvenir shops all selling wooden weapons, cheap training equipment and t-shirts … basically anything tacky or cheap. I avoided these and head straight to the ticket office; there I purchased one entry ticket at the cost of 100 Yuan (£10). I'd wish the price hadn't been a round figure; ninety or 110 would have been better as I had little change for the coach back. I went through the ticket barrier and made my way down the hill.

As I walked down a large tarmac road, intermingling myself with many different tour groups, I noticed training areas located on either side. Along with other tourists I stopped and watched hundreds of Chinese boys -all in the same outfit - training, in the blazing sun, with fake swords, spears and whips. Moving on further classes, focusing on hands and legs only, could be witnessed and I watched a large group of boys performing a couple of moves in front of their teacher; after a little while the tutor dismissed the class and they all ran off in the same direction. I continued to walk further into the Shaolin complex; it took me a little while to realise that the dominant language, surrounding me, had changed. Instead of Chinese, English could be heard though it was poorly spoken. Only one nation speaks English with that accent, I thought to myself, as I realised that I was in the middle of an American tour group. As I pondered which tour group I hated the most – Chinese or American – I over heard the American tour leader state that 'the next Kung-fu show was going to start within thirty minutes'. He added that the doors were about to open and would his group please follow him. My guidebook said that the show – included in the cost of entry – was one of the highlights of a visit and so I joined my American brothers.

Once up a small, stone, stair case a maze of red metal barriers, that ended at a closed wooden door, could be seen. I joined the end of the queue with the Americans behind; a few old Chinese people, with their 'tour group' baseball hats, were trying to push through which seemed to have annoyed the Americans as much as I. That became the ice breaker and I found out that they were all from the same University on a student swap scheme; in return I told them that I'd been travelling around the world for a year though, sadly, it was all coming to an end very soon. We continued chatting as the doors opened; we formed an impenetrable barrier that no baseball cap wearing person could fit through. With the lower level seats already taken, I followed the group of Americans up to the top level of the theatre where we managed to secure front row seats. I could see below a small square shaped stage with a mock temple behind. Before the show started I continued to chat to the Americans and they all seemed very pleasant indeed; the lights darkened, silence reigned and only a spot light, illuminating a woman with a microphone, could be seen. She spent a while introducing the show but eventually she was replaced by monks and loud fighting music.

The show lasted for thirty minutes and, in my opinion, wasn't that great. Having studied martial arts for four years I know that power comes from a strong stance (i.e. when throwing a punch having your feet firmly on the ground will give it extra force) however these monks, talented though they were, spent most of their time jumping through the air and lying on the floor. This was followed by, about ten minutes, of volunteers climbing on stage trying to copy moves and failing to the pleasure of the crowd. Finally a test of toughness was performed with a monk smashing a metal rod over his head and another firing a pin, into a balloon, through a sheet of glass without breaking it. As the lights came back on clapping could be heard. I too joined in thanking the monks for the show; however I believe that's all it was, a show, not the real art.

As I got out of my seat I said goodbye to the Americans and made my own way down the path to the Shaolin temple. The temple it's self was similar to a lot of other temples I've seen recently; the grounds were rectangular in shape with buildings along the outer perimeter. Three small temples were placed inside the rectangle area creating three, small, enclosed courtyards. As I walked through the temple complex it got higher the further I got; the temple was painted red and guardians were positioned in many places. There was lots of renovation work but luckily I managed to get a glimpse of the old brick temple where the monks used to practise. Apparently the dents within the floor were from training. Within the temple there were other signs of practice; the trees had many holes in which, it is said, is where monks repeatedly hit them with a single finger trying to make it stronger. After viewing the above the only rooms I didn't venture into were ones that had tables of souvenirs for sale; even outside the temple there were a few stalls and so I quickly moved on towards the final part of the site.

When I say the final part of the site there was also mountain, that you could walk up, after the monks cemetery. My guidebook hadn't rated the walk that highly and, in truth, I couldn't be bothered therefore, for me, the monks’ cemetery was the last thing to visit. After a short walk I found myself surrounded by pine trees; within this pine forest stood hundreds of stone pagodas each dedicated to a fallen monk. The pagodas were of incredible detail and, with the mountains in the back ground, I could think of few other places so picturesque to be buried. I felt a little odd, taking photos of a cemetery, but for me it was certainly the most scenic area of the whole site. It wasn't, however that big, and so it didn't take me long to wander through the yard and back onto the road. Within the graveyard the Chinese had placed rugs, with souvenirs on, to sell to anybody who came through. Personally I thought that this was disgusting; taking photos was borderline but trying to sell tacky souvenirs within a cemetery ... do these people have no morals? I ignored the calls of 'buy this, buy that' as I left the cemetery and walked back down the road towards the temple. On one side of the road flowed a stream, and on the other the Shaolin temple. I hugged the stream side to avoid most of the tourists and it was, at this point, that I saw a camel on a bridge. There was a small tent, in front of said camel, with a guy allowing tourists, for a fee of course, to have their photo taken whilst sitting on the camel's back. Why I hear you ask … I have no idea. What a camel has to do with an ancient Chinese martial art beats me.

The next bridge lead to a car park and the temple 'of a thousand golden Buddha's'. As it was only 1pm I decided to venture into the temple. The temple was set out like a ludo board and you walked around it just as you would move your pieces in the game. It's a shame that no photography was allowed, as this was one of the more interesting parts of the site; as I walked down the stone corridors golden Buddha's, on each side, were placed almost on top of each other. Each seemed to have an individual character and they all had a lot of life with arms pointing, in different directions, and many different facial expressions. Some Chinese were praying to specific Buddha's, one of which looked a lot like Tony Blair. With no photography allowed I whizzed down the corridors viewing each statue for only a couple of seconds.

Once back outside I checked my watch; 1:20pm. If I hurried I could make the 2pm coach back to Luoyang. As marched my way back to the ticket gate I thought about my visit; the Shaolin Temple was the sole reason I'd visited Luoyang and was it really worth it? The answer, no; the location of the temple – up in the mountains – was beautiful and the crowds hadn't been that large, the problem was how the Shaolin owners had gone about setting the place up for tourism. The entrance was fake, the show was fake and everywhere you looked souvenir stalls could be seen either in temples or within the courtyards. Still if I hadn't have come I would have always been wondering what it the place was like, and it did make me want to read The American Shaolin again.

I got to the bus stop, a little hot, at around two minutes to two. I'd cut it a little fine though I decided to wait hoping that the service wasn't running early. A pleasant lady crossed the street and asked if I was heading to Luoyang; I nodded and she indicated that I was stood in the right position. She was very pleasant, even though she didn't speak a word of English, and see waved the coach down for me when it arrived. I got on and regretted that I hadn't got any change; I gingerly handed over a crisp 100 Yuan note to which the ticket inspector frowned. After a lot of rummaging I was handed the correct change and presented with an annoyed smile.

The journey was no different from this morning except the Kung-Fu film had changed. I flicked between the world outside and the film. I arrived back in Luoyang around 4pm where I went out for a walk. Whilst walking around the park I noticed a lot of people playing Chinese chess and I was very tempted to challenge one of them; maybe tomorrow. I walked around until 6pm when I had tea and went back to my hostel room; the Japanese guy, Honk, had checked-out and into a hotel nearby (was it something I said). A Malaysian girl had taken his place and boy could she could talk. I timed her and, as I was trying to write this blog, she talked at me for thirty minutes without pause. She was very pleasant but, at this moment in time, I wished she would leave me alone; as if she had read my mind she left the dorm room and I was allowed to continue my work in peace.

As I was finishing my blog a knock at the door could be heard followed by a 'it's me … Honk'. Looking very flustered, Honk burst into the room and sat on the seat opposite. He was trying to tell me something in regards to money (300 for this and 100 for that) but for the life of me I had no idea what he was going on about. I gave him a big smile and said 'okay'; he left as fast as he had appeared. A nutter on the train, a talkative Malaysian girl and a flustered Japanese bloke … how odd.

Tomorrow the Longmen Caves.

Toodle Pip!

Can Penguins look up?

2011-05-18T10:59:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 18^th May 2011

12 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Pingu theme tune-

Weather: The sun was beaming through the train window, but it wasn't until I got to Luoyang that I realised just how hot it was.

My alarm woke me in good time for my arrival within Xi'an; the annoyance being that I was expected to arrive at 5am! Yes my alarm went off at four and, if it wasn't for the other three people within my cabin (two entered late last night), I would have let it ring and I'd just lay there. I switched off the alarm not wanting to get up; I forced myself, slowly, to get ready and as I did I noticed that the nutter was stirring. He'd annoyed me last night; not only did he chat to a crew member until 11pm but he beat me at Chinese chess … twice. Eventually he awoke, got ready, and then, with thirty minutes remaining, he tried to communicate with me. It was 4:30am, I was tired, and I really wanted to be left alone, but would he stop? … no. Each time I looked away he'd tap me on my knee which was highly infuriating. In the end I said that I didn't understand him and asked him if penguins could look up. He looked blankly back at me.

Finally the train stopped and I shot out of my carriage and into the huge crowd; I hoped the nutter couldn't see me. It seemed to have work and, once outside the station, my pace slowed as I tried to find a train ticket counter. After two failed attempts I saw three huge queues, of Chinese people, and guessed that these were the ticket queues. I joined one and looked at the written piece of paper within my hand. It said, in Chinese, that I wanted a ticket to Luoyang on the 8:35am, or 8:55am, train. The hostel lady had chosen these times just incase my other train arrived late, but it hadn't. The time was 6am and I was deciding whether it was worth the possibility of confusing the ticket sales person by asking for an earlier train, or should I keep it simple and go for the times written. As I was drawing ever closer I decided to keep it simple, two hours isn't that long to wait.

Just before I reached the ticket counter a mad, homeless, person was tagging on peoples shirts, blocking queues all in the attempt to raise funds. Most Chinese knocked him out of the way but, as he approached me, I gave him a firm 'no', with my hand out and the eyes on fire. That seemed to do the trick and he never bothered me after that; I made it to the front of the queue and handed my piece of paper over to the ticket saleswoman; she in return gave me a ticket for the 8:35am train at a cost of fifty-five Yuan (£5.50) … bargain. I thanked her and left the ticket office wondering what to do with two hours of my time.

The problem was answered almost instantaneously; across the road stood a McDonald's and I wondered if they had any Pineapple pie goodness. They had. I purchased two, with an orange juice, and sat down; I ate slowly and watched the Chinese news come up on the TV. At 7am I realised that I'd squeezed as much time as I was going to get, out of what I'd ordered, and so I left for the train station. Once at security there was a wall of train attendants with hand scanners; I'd hoped that I would get the Chinese chick who'd dyed her hair red, but alas a spotted male youth padded the contents of my pockets. He did tell me which waiting room I had to wait in; I thanked him, walked through the wall of attendants, and turned to look at the rear of the red-haired chick … she was quite tasty. The three musketeers is pretty heavy going, I thought to myself. I'd managed to read the introduction, and a couple of pages of the first chapter, before I felt tired; this would never happen with the 'Emperor' books I realised. I'd but my book back within my bag when the opening of gates could be heard; like someone had just declared that the gates had seventeen gold bars sat behind them, the waiting crowds descended on the gates faster than you could blink. I waited for the queue to shorten however, as I looked to my left, I realised that said queue went out of the waiting room. I joined an 'off shoot' to said queue and filtered my way in; next to come was a set of steps, allowing me to cross to platform five, before descending down another set of steps to the train. All-in-all it was extremely packed and, I knew, that this is what was to come for the rest of my tour.

As I was only on the train for five hours a sleeper wasn't necessary, therefore I opted for the 'soft seat'. Seeing how many people were boarding the train I was surprised to find that the seat, next to me, standing vacant; in front of me was a small table with two Chinese men on the other side, staring at me. As the train wasn't moving the air-conditioning wasn't on, making most of the Chinese use their newspapers to waft hot air into their faces; I, on the other hand, felt hot but not overly. Considering the temperatures I'd witnessed within Cambodia this was nothing. Soon we were off; the air started to circulate and most Chinese people sat back and relaxed … they were still staring though.

I didn't feel like reading and so I decided to get my Chinese chess set out; it was in the vain hope that I'd get someone interested but, if not, I'd practice a few winning moves. As I set-up the board many male heads turned and people changed seats to be near me. Like a moth to a flame I had three opponents lined up; the first was pretty good and he beat me 2-0. The second was even better though his fashion sense wasn't going to be a 'girl winner'. He had - what can only be described as a metal whisk (without the metal rods connecting) – within his hair; I'm not sure if it was to help with stress, or help his Chinese chess play, but I did ask if he could pick up BBC radio on it. He also beat me 2-0. I was loving the game but it wasn't half frustrating; everytime I saw a devastating move I had to reposition some other piece that was under threat. At last my final challenger came and he wasn't as good as the other two; with all my practice I beat him 2-0. To my face he took the kicking well, but he didn't speak to me for the rest of the journey; maybe I'd found the secret to shutting up the Chinese. Either way it mattered not, after six games of Chess I was tired and my stop wasn't too far away.

My bags were ready, I was ready and there was only twenty minutes to go until my scheduled arrival. It was at this point that a train attendant entered the carriage and, I'm not kidding, talked for at least ten minutes non stop. I couldn't tell what he was saying, therefore I looked at other passengers faces to try to work out what was up; I saw shock, sarcastic grins and laughter. I wasn't sure what was up but it didn't matter, at that point we pulled into Luoyang station and I thanked my three chess opponents. As I left the carriage I realised that Luoyang was hot, very hot. I'd only walked 200 meters, in the shade, and I was ready to collapse. I found my hostel easily and, sat there at the front desk, was a young lady waiting to check me in. Check-in lasted a little longer than I'd hoped due to a very slow scanner; still the lady was lovely and once the formalities were completed she showed me to my eight bed dorm. The room was empty; no luggage, no towels and no dirty underwear. All the bedding was folded and I had the pick of the beds; it was nice to have my own room, but at the same time I knew I would miss the company of travellers. Once unpacked I went down stairs and asked for a mammoth amount of information:

- Where can I purchase souvenirs?

- Where can I purchase cheap clothes?

- How do I get to the Shaolin Temple?

- How do I get to the Longmen Caves?

Bless her she answered all my questions, gave me individual notes for all of my requests and handed me a map to guide me. What was really touching was that I asked if there was anywhere that sold miniature Terracotta Warriors. She said only Xi'an but, as she was a student in Xi'an, she would give me hers for free and she could get more. My theory about the Chinese young became evident once more; I said no but thank you … bless her. I was a little shocked that only Xi'an sold these famous statues, I'm sure Beijing would so I'll check there, I thought to myself.

Once I bled her dry of all the information I could I ventured out onto the hot streets of Luoyang. I was starving and so I headed into town to find food. Now that I was out of the tourist province of China I was experiencing the same problems as before; even finding a McDonald's was proving impossible and so I went to China's fast food equivalent – Disco's – for some spicy chicken. After this I purchased some souvenirs. I made it back to my hostel, hot and sweaty, around 5pm. The receptionist was there beaming and she took an interest into my purchases … I think she likes me. I purchased a bottle of coke before logging onto the internet for the first time in three days. After many emails I shut down my PC and had a long shower; I finished at 9pm and went to bed straight away. Being up at 4am had taken it's toll and I had to be up early to see the Shaolin Temple; tomorrow Kung-fu!

Toodle Pip!

P.S. Can Penguins look up? I've asked, what seems like, half the Chinese population (including the people I played chess with today) and they don't seem to know. Does anyone?

Trains

2011-05-18T10:46:00.000-07:00

Tuesday 17^th May 2011

13 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Moonriver - Andy Williams

Weather: The sun was shinning though the window though, being stuck within a train carriage, I had no idea what the temperature was like.

At around midnight the train stopped and my carriage became full; I didn't see who'd disturbed my sleep as I kept my eye mask on. I knew that they were both male, from the sound of their voices, and both chatted before heading to sleep. I'm not sure what was worse, the sound of them chatting or the snoring that came after but either way the night wasn't as peaceful as I'd hoped.

I woke around 7:30am, cursing my ear plugs for not fully blocking out the droning that came from above. The cabin was completely black; at first I'd wondered if I'd left my eye mask on but, as I prodded my own eye, I realised that I hadn't. All became clear a minute later when the train exited a tunnel; I remember now, we must be at the point within the journey of the 'never ending tunnels'. All three of my cabin mates were still asleep and one was snoring; with the mornings sun coming and going with every passing tunnel, I switched on my spot light and began to read about Julius whilst eating breakfast. It wasn't long before the others were up and they too eat their food. Once again noise erupted as they threw noodles down their throats. Talking, snoring or eating … I couldn't decide which sound I hated the most. I opened my laptop and resumed the work I'd started yesterday.

The day fell into a mixture of reading my book, working on my blogs and looking at the view outside, depending on which type of entertainment took my fancy at the time. It was around 1pm when the familiar, smoggy, look of Chengdu came into view and I was glad that I was staying on the train. Two hours later and I found myself bored of reading, blogging or staring at the smog. I decided to take my 'learn how to play Chinese Chess' book, and board, out of my bag to run through some moves. Like a moth to a flame the Chinese bloke opposite me sat up and stared at the board; I hadn't even set-up all the pieces when he intervened and indicated that he wanted to play. We had time for two games before he departed the train; he beat me on both occasions but it didn't stop me enjoying it. He played very well, forcing me to make re-active moves instead of pressing on with my attack. After he 'check-mated' me for the final time we both sat back; the game had broken the ice between us but, sadly, his stop had arrived. He said goodbye and left ... only to be replaced by a nutter.

My hope of having my own carriage was dashed in seconds as a young Chinese lad, with an annoying smile, sat opposite me. At first he seemed normal; he'd ask the usual 'where are you from?' question which, it seems, every Chinese person knows how to say in English. Then he started talking to me in Chinese; whatever he was talking about seemed a passion of his and I sat their nodding trying not to laugh. He would say something and I'd say 'yes'; he'd say it again and use his hands to reinforce his message … I'd say 'yes' and my smile would widen. This process would repeat for a third time when he would finish with 'okay?' and a cheesy grin; in return I'd frown and give a short, sharp 'no'. I wish he would just leave me alone so I could finish my book, the battle for Rome was imminent and he wouldn't shut up. I gave every indication that I wasn't interested in whatever he was trying to say and, finally, he got out his pair of slippers and left the cabin. He returned quicker than I'd hoped and, as I glanced down at his slippers, I noticed that they were bright pink. 'Oh my God he's gay and a nutter' I thought to myself. Eventually he shut up and I managed to finish my book; he asked to investigate my boots which I agreed to (though I'd kill him if he took them) before I went for an early night. The train arrives within Xi'an at 5am … I need to be up early.

So the end of another week has come; I haven't got anything new to report apart from I'm loving Chinese chess and that my average spend has fallen to £28.66 per day. Tomorrow I'll hopefully arrive in Luoyang around 1pm where I'll check into my hostel and try to get information on visiting the Shaolin Temple the day after. Kung-Fu here I come!

Toodle Pip!

Chinese chess

2011-05-18T10:39:00.000-07:00

Monday 16^th May 2011

15 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Honeymoon – The Young Victoria soundtrack

Weather: As I arrived within Kumming, it started to rain but it stopped within the afternoon..

The train music – which, for some reason, was 'Ho ho, hi ho it's off to work we go' – started to sound at 6am. The lights automatically came on and, being so high up, my nose almost touched the element. Obviously I awoke and I started to get ready; I'd wondered if the early start meant that we would arrive within Kumming early; however, after a while, I realised that this wouldn't be the case. All three of my cabin mates were still asleep therefore I went into the corridor to look outside the window; some buildings were familiar and I was amazed at how much of Kumming I'd remembered from two weeks ago.

Once off the train I walked in the same direction as before; I remembered where the bus stop was and, once there, I looked for the number three service. It didn't take long to notice that only a '107' and '117' service stopped here which seemed bizarre; looking at my surroundings I knew that I was at the correct stop and yet I was sure the bus I wanted was the number three. I checked my hostel directions and the number three bus was written there in black and white; the 107 was written also and so, as one was pulling into the stop, I boarded it in the hope that it would drop me off where I needed to be. Thankfully the 107 was the correct service and I alighted outside my old hostel. It was spitting with rain and so my pace quickened as I made my way to 'The Hump'. Nine Yuan was all it cost to store my luggage, have a shower and use their facilities all day. I gladly paid 90p yet I didn't hit the showers; instead I went out for breakfast as I was starving. The thought of a 'pineapple pie' had kept me going through the last two weeks and, as I approached McDonald's, I was cautious wondering what I would do if they hadn't got any. The rain was falling harder; my hood was up, the walkway was slippery and my shoes were letting in water. I pulled the McDonald's door open, both eyes focused on where a yellow box should be … I could see at least pineapple pie. Full of a childish joy I went to the counter and pointed to the yellow box, asking for two, and a hot chocolate. As I bit into the sweet, hot pastry the taste was as good as I remembered and I devoured my breakfast quickly encase of theft.

I left McDonald's happy, content but a little wet. I think my shoes have lost their waterproof ability and yet I won't part with them; as I looked down my shoes looked like old friends and, if they could talk, they would be the only item I own who would know every detail of my trip. I walked towards the closest supermarket, side-stepping the largest of the puddles, before sheltering in the supermarket's doorway. The time was 8:20am but the supermarket didn't open until 8:30; there was a large queue outside with each person pushing another out of the way. Once again I didn't see the logic and so I stepped back and waited, meeting stares with a glaring smile.

The shop assistant was nearly knocked off her feet as she undid the door bolts; the door swung inwards, under the force of the mob, and I casually walked in behind making a bee-line to the food section. Even though I would be on a train, for thirty-six hours, I usually don't eat much whilst traveling; I'd already purchased a large bottle of water, and a large packet of biscuits, and so I added a large bottle of orange juice, some cereal bars, chocolate and crisps to the mix. I left and went back to the hostel putting my food with my luggage.

Yesterday I'd received an email from Sim stating that Laura still wasn't feeling well and so they were going to stay within Kumming for a couple of nights. As Laura spent most of her time sleeping Sim and I arranged to meet at 9am; apart from playing pool I hadn't got a clue what to do, within the city, however Sim suggested visiting two mosques and the 'bird and flower market'. That sounded great to me and we walked out of the hostel in the direction of the first attraction.

I once more found myself within another supermarket; Sim hadn't had any breakfast and, him being a little more adventitious than I, went for Chinese goods. Not feeling particularly hungry I still joined him as the experience would probably be worth the cost. Outside the supermarket I gingerly opened my clear plastic bag and smelling the produce within; a guard stood their smirking to himself. Bland, the whole nations cuisine is bland, I thought to myself as I took another bite of this hot pastry ... thing. I'd done pretty well; I'd eaten three quarters of it but I couldn't face another mouthful. I popped the rest into a bin before we arrived at the first mosque. A familiar pattern seemed to be occurring in regards to my time within Kumming; this attraction was also shut, though we did peak through the windows. Next was the market which Sim had warned me wasn't a pleasant site; being a animal lover I was shocked to see animals placed within cages where they couldn't move or where they were overcrowded. Sim mentioned that 'life is cheap' within Asia and most purchasers expected their new pet to be dead within a couple of weeks; it disgusted me how a human could place seventeen birds to a cage and so we walked by quickly.

The last mosque proved hard to find; Sim and I chatted as we headed this way and that but it took the best part of an hour to get there. It, too, was shut and so we went back into town, stopping for lunch, before meeting Laura. She'd moved from her dorm into the common room and was reading a book; she seemed ready to go out though she didn't look well. Both wanted to head to an English bookshop and that was were I could help; I told them that, on my previous visit, I'd been to three and that I would show them where they were ... starting with the best, Mandarin books.

As we walked Sim and I chatted whereas Laura remained silent. You could read it in her face that she was feeling terrible and both Sim and I had hoped the air would have done her good. Having been away from Kumming, for two weeks, my route to Mandarin books was a little long however we eventually got there. Once within the English section both Sim and Laura looked around whereas I gazed periodically; I still had half my 'Emperor' novel left so I was okay … however I did have a long train journey to come and so maybe a 'backup' might be needed. All three of us mentioned the horrific prices of some of the books making it difficult for Sim, Laura and I to choose. Sim had presented me with a 'How to play Chinese Chess' book he'd found; it came with it's own magnetized set and, at £3.00, seemed a bargain that I had to have. Sim and Laura also recommended 'The Three Musketeers' which, at £4.00, seemed good value too. As I stood there it would appear that a book buying trip, for Sim and Laura, had ended in me spending all the money.

Sim took his time, looking through all the novels present, weighing up price versus quality; Laura was looking worse and so she left to head back to the hostel. We stayed a little longer until Sim decided that there wasn't anything he wanted. I paid for my purchases before I showed Sim the other two book stores. It was inside the last book store that Sim managed to find an absolute bargain; tucked away on the bottom shelf stood 'The complete works of Sherlock Homes volumes one and two'. With each costing £3.00 he grabbed both as if there were twenty other people ready to pounce. We paid for the books and returned to the hostel ... via McDonald's where both of us had a McFurry. I caught myself eyeing up the 'pineapple pies' once more.

Sim had played Chinese chess before and so he said that he would teach me. He set-up the board and told me what each piece did; the moves seemed simple enough but remembering which Chinese symbol meant what was confusing. Chinese chess is similar to western chess and I found myself growing to like it; in the end I managed to win – without realising it – which helped in my liking for the game. At this point it was time for me to catch my train; I wished them both a great trip and wished Laura a speedy recovery. I went and collected my bags before making my way to the bus stop.

In a way I was sad to leave Kumming. The city had no specific attractions and yet it had been a peasant place to visit; more than that I was about to leave the province of Yunnan and back into the crowded inner region of China. Yunnan had been the only province where I'd met travelers and I wondered whether that enjoyable aspect of traveling was at an end. Still I had to move forward though part of me wanted to remain. Once at the train station I got a glimpse of what was about to come; I was continually stared at as if the train operators had made me an attraction. I sat down and, even as I wrote notes in English, Chinese people would peer over my shoulder. Some spitting occurred and children could be seen with their bottoms hanging out of their trousers; Maybe I should skip Loyuang, and Beijing, and just remain within Kumming before flying to Beijing to meet my flight home. As I contemplated the proposed action people started to shift out of their seats and mobs formed around the gate. I sighed and realised that I had to push on; I waited for the mob to die down before I presented my ticket to the inspector and went onto the platform.

My cabin was the standard soft sleeper cabin I'd now become accustom too; considering that I became ill, within Europe, after a thirty hour train journey I was a little worried that this trip might have the same effect. Still there was little point in worrying about it now; the train started to move out of the station as I started to update my blogs. It was nice to find that I was sharing my cabin with only one other person and that he seemed quite pleasant (though he made a lot of noise whilst drinking). Once I could write no more I shut my computer down to finish the day reading my 'Emperor Book'. Julius was just about to take office within the senate and Marcus was off to join the legions within Greece … should be fun!

Toodle Pip!

Signs

2011-05-18T10:11:00.000-07:00

Sunday 15^th May 2011

16 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Honor him – Gladiator soundtrack

Weather: Lijiang's skies seemed to be covered in clouds cooling the temperature, though none threatened rain.

With my bags packed I found myself stood outside reception before it was open. It was a pain having to check-out so early however I wanted to beat the tour groups to the 'Black Dragon Pools'. The sign on the reception door read 'open 7am' but it wasn't until 7:20am when a, rather annoyed looking, receptionist came to check me out and store my luggage. The front door hadn't been unbolted and, thinking it unwise to bother the receptionist again, I let myself out.

The 'Prague Café' - which was the restaurant I went to last night – opened at 7am and so I was able to devour a hot chocolate, with marshmallows, and a chocolate pancake without waiting. The cost was a little high but the food had been as good as last night. As I head north, towards the pools, I had a slight nervousness within my walk; the 'free entry ticket' Sim had given me was the one he'd used two days ago. It had a months warranty but it also had his name on it; I kept telling myself, if I got asked for 'ID' I'd just have to say that I hadn't got any on me.

I couldn't believe it; the time was 8:20am and, in the distance, I could see a yellow flag going through the parks main entrance followed by a mob of yellow baseball wearing Chinese people. Do these people ever sleep? I decided that, if my free pass didn't work, I wasn't prepared to pay £8 to fight my way through crowds. I stepped up to the ticket sales woman and presented my ticket; she beckoned me to go straight through … result. Once inside I walked quickly to leap-frog the tour group; there was a photo within my guidebook, taken from these pools, that I wanted to copy without anyone in the way. I continued walking around with a look of disappointment; yes the water was clear, yes the pavilion in the middle - with trees either side and a Chinese bridge leading to it - was photogenic but for £8 it wasn't worth it. With not much to see I walked along the few paths available taking photos of the clear waters in front of me. Eventually a path lead to the start of a mountain hike; after yesterday I wasn't really in the mood for hiking however, with not much else to see, I had time to kill. First of all I had to fill out a 'health and safety' form writing my name, time I started my assent, name of my hostel and my mobile, or passport, number. I filled all boxes apart from the last, reluctant to put my mobile or passport numbers down. I placed the pen back on the table but the assistant insisted that I fill out the last box; I put the first seven digits that came into my head and stormed off to start the climb.

Consisting of mainly steps the path had been well made though it was slippery. I started the assent not stopping for breaks; due to the amount of clouds within the sky the temperature was cool though I was still sweating. The mountain kept to go on and on; once I'd thought I'd reach the top another bit would appear from out of know where and, the stubbornness within me, would keep me going. I'm not sure when the guy first came into view but, for some reason, I seemed to have a Chinese bloke following me. I could see him, just behind to my left, contemplating a pass. I quickened my pace, took the inside line and kept looking straight; if he was to pass me it would have to be on the outside. His pace matched mine and, for some reason, I found myself in a race that I didn't want to loose; I passed people, keeping the inside line as much as possible. He seemed quicker on the steps though I outpaced him on the straights and, as we eventually approached the final pavilion I saw him stop, turn around, and head back the other way. We may not be that good at table tennis, we may not know all the secrets to Kung-fu but us Europeans know how to climb a hill. After that brief acknowledgement of victory I lay down totally exhausted.

I eventually got up to look at the view; with the town surrounded by mountains you would have thought that it would have been quite pleasant ... but it wasn't. With so many clouds the mountain tops were faded and the town below was built with little thought for aesthetics. I left the pavilion quickly, passing many red faced Chinese people as I descended. I walked slowly, my breathe returning and the sweat stopping. I found myself at a fork within the path; I knew that heading straight would lead me back to the park but I wondered where the other path went. The path seemed to climb a little so maybe the view was better; curiosity got the better of me and, even though my body protested, I started to climb once more. I wasn't climbing for long when I was confronted by a communications tower; the path seemed to head back towards the park and so I stood at the highest point realising that the view was no better. I turned around and went back down the mountain the way I'd come up. Once at the bottom I filled out the 'time back' box, on the 'safety form, with a satisfied nod from the attendant. I didn't spend much longer within the park; the amount of people had grown and there was only three small temples to look at. I left at 10:30am heading into town.

After visiting the supermarket I found myself within a small park eating chocolate and seeing what was going on around me. People were walking this way and that all having individual agendas to complete; all around me were small flower boxes with signs erected within them. As I went for a closer inspection I noticed that said signs were in Chinese as well as English. I laughed as I read some of the statements the Chinese authorities thought were so important that they had translated:

- 'Beanify our lives, purify our lives'

- 'Less foot prints, more aroma'

- 'Keep off hands and feet, preserve green'

I chucked to myself as I took a photo of each sign I came across. I wondered why signs like these were translated but train station names weren't. I finished my comical photography and went back to the 'Prague café' for another of their great sandwiches.

The time was 1pm and I found myself sitting within my hostels common room fully satisfied that all I wanted to see within Lijiang had been completed. I went on the internet and updated my blog, which took until the early evening. Afterwards I put my bags back into storage before an early tea at, you guessed it, the Prague Café. I made it back to my hostel at around 7:30pm and decided to head straight to the train station encase of any unforeseen problems.

'You're leaving now?' the receptionist said surprised. I replied with a smile and said that, even though I was three hours early, I would prefer to wait at the station encase anything went wrong. I turned to pass her but she blocked my way; she explained that, due to Lijiang having a small train station, with limited services, the waiting room wasn't usually open this early. She continued by stating that the station was in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do. She pleaded with me to sit back down and wait an hour, leaving at 8:30pm should be okay she said. I nodded and put my bag back down; I got my novel out and started to read whilst the receptionist went for tea.

It was 8:20pm and I was bursting to leave; I couldn't wait any longer therefore I said a quick goodbye before walking out the door. Night had fallen and only house lights allowed me to make my way; it didn't take me long to reach the main highway and I soon found myself at the point where bus number thirteen stopped. I waited and I waited; three 'number two' services went by and I was about to curse the receptionist, and all of her employees, for stopping me catching the earlier services when, finally, a bus with the number thirteen on it showed up. I blew a sigh of relief; the time was 8:45pm and in another fifteen minutes this service would have stopped.

The bus ride was uneventful; darkness consumed the surroundings however, looking at the dirt road the buses' lights lit up, I could tell that we were in the middle of nowhere. We kept going on and on; a few people alighted but most passengers, looking at the amount of luggage they carried, were heading to the same destination as I. At 9:15pm we pulled up at the station. A simple, but large, rectangular building stood in front of me with crowds outside. The receptionist was right, there was nothing for miles apart from a few stalls to my right, the train station in front, a basketball court and a high embankment to my left with a train sitting above. I followed the crowds into the station and resumed my story of Julius Caesar until called to alight the train.

The concrete stairs, up the embankment, were tall and I was glad that I had a rucksack instead of a trolley. Once at the top I caught my breathe and checked the sign stating the way to carriage thirteen. I'd never seen carriages like these before I could tell that there were two floors as there were two rows of windows. As I boarded my carriage I checked my ticket and realised that I would be on the second floor; once there I checked my ticket again to realise that I had the top bunk. I hadn't been on the top bunk, within a train before and it soon became apparent that the lower bunk was the better option. I climbed using the two foot rests provided and hit my head upon the roof. It was so low that I had to crawl along my bed and any chance of trying to sit up was none existent. Still that didn't matter, as the train rolled out of the station the time was 10::30pm and it was time for bed.

I arrive within Kumming at 7am tomorrow!

Toodle Pip!

Tiger Leaping Tastic

2011-05-15T03:41:00.000-07:00

Saturday 14^th May 2011

17 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Eye of the Tiger – Survivor

Weather: A beautiful day with no rain clouds in sight.

The day didn't start off as well as it could have. I woke earlier than I wanted to and so, with the spare time, I checked my emails; there weren't too many to read however there was one from British Airways (BA). Apparently, as I'd booked my flights through an agent, I wasn't allowed to upgrade my seat whether I had enough points or not. I sat back in my chair, wondering how I was now going to make an appropriate ending to my trip. I didn't fancy paying for an expensive meal because, even if the food was divine, I wouldn't have any company to share it with. For the same reason booking into a posh hotel didn't really seem adequate either. I flicked through the '31 things not to miss', within my Chinese guidebook, and discovered that watching an acrobatic show, within Beijing, is something to remember. That did sound interesting though this was a thought for another day, time had ticked on and it was now appropriate to meet my coach.

As I'd booked my 'Tiger Leaping Gorge' trip from another hostel I had to walk there for my pick-up; it only took five minutes and I still found myself early. I'd just sat down when the driver appeared and asked if it was okay to depart earlier. 'Sure' was my reply; the quicker we go the sooner we arrive I thought to myself. Before leaving the hostel the receptionist made sure that the driver would remember to pick me up later and bring me back Lijiang; I thanked her for all her help as I followed the driver, out of the door, and down the path to my left.

Lijiang's old town is made up of old, narrow cobbled streets therefore, because of this, the coach couldn't pick me up from outside the hostel. It took five minutes to walk to the main road where a sixteen-seater coach waited. As I boarded I discovered that I had the pick of the seats; I opted for one with good leg room and a stunning view. We drove off quickly before stopping moments later and the driver, without a word, switched the engine off. There we waited, and waited, until all the time gained earlier was lost. I didn't notice the driver leap out of the coach but, as I looked out of my window, I could see him across the road speaking to a group of Chinese tourists looking as though they were about to start a hike. I couldn't hear the conversation – and even if I could it would have been in Chinese – but he beckoned them over and the group of six choose seats within the coach. The wait continued until a group of five young Chinese people boarded leaving only four seats for, thankfully, a small group of Europeans. The driver looked over his should and did a quick head count before turning the engine on and off we went.

It took a while to leave the city of Lijiang; confined between mountain ranges the city seemed to sprawl forever outwards. As the number of buildings reduced our altitude increased; the view, at first, wasn't that spectacular but as we climbed, deep valleys, mountain ranges and small rivers could be seen. Even though we departed late the driver was taking it easy and, considering our chosen path consisted of a heavily used single lane road, our progress was painfully slow. We stopped after an hour and the driver, yet again, leaped out of his seat unnoticed. He positioned himself at the side of the vehicle and kept looking underneath; I watched him from my window as he would look under the coach before walking back to the driver’s seat to change a setting or two. He repeated this process a number times and it didn't take a genius to work out that we'd broken down. Some people got off whereas I sat there hoping the problem wouldn't take long to fix; as I'm coming towards the end of my trip time is of the essence and I couldn't really afford today to be cancelled. The driver became a legend; he kept making alterations before grabbing a nearby empty cardboard box. After dismantling said box he strategically placed it under the vehicle, within the mud, where the problem was. It didn't take him long and he was soon back in the drivers seat taking off his muddy coat; the engine started and everyone was back on-board. The driver seemed happy that the coach was road worthy but still you could feel hesitation within his driving. As this was an issue I could not rectify I decided not to focus on it and to concentrate on the view outside. Peaks started to soar into the clouds and snow could be seen on top of some; we had a photo stop which, as I didn't know how long said stop was for, I decided to act quickly.

We made good time and you could tell that we were approaching the gorge as the mountainsides got steeper and the road became narrow. We stopped at the entrance, to the gorge, where we each had to hand over £5 to enter; we drove for another five minutes until the coach stopped outside the first guest house along the 'two day' Tiger Leaping Gorge trail. The Europeans were off like a short whereas the younger Chinese group dithered. They seemed to be more interested in investigating the contents of their bags, and talking to the driver, than departing which became annoying as every minute sat here could be spent hiking. Finally they disembarked but they left most of their luggage on the coach to be delivered to 'Tina's guest house' ... further along the route.

We turned this way and that a stunning view of the gorge lay before us. Unfortunately I found myself on the wrong side of the coach; normally this wouldn't have mattered however, during our last stop, we'd picked up two young locals who pulled their curtains to block the sun giving no thought to tourists wanting to look outside. In reality it mattered not; luckily I was near the front of the coach and so I stared out of the driver’s window at the enormous gorge below. The 'Tiger Leaping Gorge' is the world’s deepest canyon set at an altitude of 2500m with mountains rising either side to a staggering 3000m. These mountain sides were almost vertical and the points at the top sharp; I gazed in amazement wondering how much water, and how much time, were needed to create such a beautiful natural scene. We had one more photo stop before arriving at 'Tina's Guest house'; by this point my appetite had been wetted and I was raring to go.

I jumped off the coach and asked the receptionist, for information, about the path down to the bottom of the gorge; as she explained I drank a newly purchased bottle of coke, saving the fluids I'd bought for the hike. Once both acts were completed I was off following her directions to the letter; she'd stated that, instead of walking down the road we'd just driven up, there was a path that descended quicker but, as I approached it, I decided to keep on the road as the path wasn't that well defined and I thought that the view from the end of the first 'S' bend would be worth the extra distance. I took photos along the road, from various locations, before I'd descended enough to find the path to the gorge. Time was tight; I'd been told that it would take three hours to walk up and down the path and, as I looked at my watch, I realised that I had just over four hours until the coach departed.

I found a sign explaining that the path, I needed to take, was built by locals without funding from the government therefore a ten Yuan fee was requested. Next to said sign sat an old lady who seemed proud that she had only two teeth left. I handed her the required sum to which she thanked me and told me to be careful. As I started to descend the sun was beating down and I was looking forward to getting further into the gorge and out of the sun. The path consisted of loose stones and dry dirt making pace slow due to the lack of grip. It would appear that none of the ten Yuan fee was pumped back into maintaining the path and it started to look more and more like one of my Dad's DIY jobs. What's worse was that I'd been told that there was a vertical ladder, further down, which I hoped was a little better constructed than the path. As I descended further the sun's force became less, shade increased and the sound of water became louder; there were many rest stops along the way, all with refreshment sheds, but I persevered and continued down as I had refreshments of my own. I met very few Chinese tourists however I did meet Sim and Laura – an English couple that I met within Lijiang – and we chatted briefly, allowing us to get our breathes back. As I departed they told me that the feared ladder was not part of this route ... which cheered me up.

Soon enough I could make out the bottom of the gorge. Within the middle of the water stood a large rock with a bridge linking it to the mainland; the location looked ideal for photos and so I made a bee-line to it. There was a five Yuan fee to cross said bridge which I paid without complaint. Once on the rock I took many photos before sitting down and having something to eat. Reading the time I realised that it had taken me just over an hour to get to the bottom leaving plenty of time to relax and to eat my snacks. As I munched I looked at my surroundings; the powerful Yangzi River, full of minerals, was in constant conflict with natural barriers resulting in rapids being formed along its route. Ancient Chinese legend stated that a tiger leaped across the gorge to avoid capture and you could almost believe it; the vertical mountain walls made the area claustrophobic and, at the same time, made you feel very insignificant. The width of the gorge may have been easily measured but, as I looked forever upwards, the height of the mountains loomed above like skyscrapers would appear to an infant. The jagged tops could be seen and, all-in-all, I doubted that there were many other places better to have something to eat than where I found myself.

Unbeknown to me but the rock was starting to fill with tourists. I eventually noticed when a constant stream of single Chinese people would pop into my view and pose with their fingers making the 'victory' sign. After looking at my watch I still had plenty of time however I left and made my way to the bridge; as I was about to cross I spotted a Chinese couple with three Chinese blokes behind. The girl raced across the bridge and stood to my right whereas the guy stopped on the bridge blocking it. Her English wasn't that good and I couldn't tell if she wanted a photo with, or without me. She got one with me whether she wanted one or not and then her boyfriend asked me to move so that she could be on her own. I explained to him that I would move if he wasn't blocking my route; I continued to say that if he came across to the rock, and let the queues pass, he could take back his post within a few minutes. He seemed reluctant to move however I wasn't going budge; eventually he came across allowing the traffic to ease. Once across I hit my head on a material sign, which gave a little entertainment to the refreshment ladies but didn't stop me from continuing to start my ascent. The time was 1:10am.

The amount of Chinese people, coming the other way, made me glad I'd descended earlier. My ascent got interrupted many times as, it would appear, that Chinese people are unable to form a single line. As I turned a corner I would be approached by a horde of red cap wearing tourists, all eager to be next to the tour leader, blocking the path for anyone wanting to climb in the other direction. It was becoming infuriating and even though some smiled and asked 'How are you?' they still lacked any common sense resulting in me having to force a path for myself. As I continued to climb the sun's heat became more fierce and the sound of water became fainter; I saw the refreshment sheds I'd passed on my way down however, though now short of water, I decided to wait until I was back at the guest house until any further refreshment would be purchased. Overall the walk hadn't been that interesting; the view at the top, and at the bottom, were both staggering - due to the enormity of the site - but the path between the two points was covered in trees preventing good views.

I eventually made through the last tour group before reaching the old woman who, once again, showed me her two teeth. It had only taken forty-five minutes to reach the top but I'd pushed hard to make that time; my legs felt wobbly and my lips were dry. I took the road path back as it was more of a gradual ascent than the walking path. I made it back to Tina's around 2pm where I stumbled into the reception to purchase another coke; while there I chatted to a rather 'proper' English chap. As we walked to the benches outside, over looking the gorge, he told me that his 'mother' and 'father' had come to see him as he's studying Mandarin within China for a year. I told him that he was the second guy I'd met in the process of showing their parents around. We took seats next to Sim and Laura where I collapsed; the conversation went well but the new chap left, to join his parents, not long before the conversation had started. Sim and Laura told me about their two day hike around the gorge which sounded great; looking at the gorge certainly made me feel as though I may have missed out not doing the hike however, if I was to do it, I wouldn't want to do it alone. We continued to chat, mainly focusing on what we didn't like about China, until 4pm when the coach came.

We surrendered the view for the back seat where we could talk. It would appear that both Sim and Laura want to volunteer teaching English and so the conversation focused on that – ending with me promising to give them a copy of my notes – before moving onto the joys of Japan. Sim and Laura's first stop had been Japan and them seemed to have loved it and much as I; for the next hour we past comments about the wonderful Asian country forgetting that we were sat on a Chinese coach full of Chinese people. Once we'd ran out of things to say, on either topic, Laura mentioned that the journey seemed to be a little slow; looking around I noticed that this was the same coach I was on this morning and so I told her about our little problem. Still we arrived within Lijiang on schedule; we went to the local supermarket before they took me to their favourite restaurant within Lijiang. I have to say that the food was lovely and I promised myself that I would be back tomorrow.

We ate quickly and left bound for our hostels. Sim said that they were going to pack – as they were catching a train later - and would meet me, at my hostel, in fifteen minutes for those teaching notes. I rushed into my dorm and turned my PC on; my notes were on one of my memory sticks but, for the life of me, I couldn't remember which one. They'd just come through my hostels front door when I found my notes; within a flash Sim had a copy of them on his laptop. We chatted for a little while longer before they left to catch their train. Laura wasn't feeling well so it’s possible that I could meet them tomorrow within Kumming.

I went for a shower and prepared for tomorrow; as I'll be travelling for the next three nights you may not hear from me for a while. Tomorrow I'll visit the 'Black Dragon Pools' – which Sim gave me a 'free' entrance ticket too – which I failed to visit on my first day here. After that I'll pick up a few snacks before chilling in the hostel and departing, at 8pm, for my 22:30 train (buses to the train station finish at 9pm). So below is the plan for the next few days:

Sunday – depart Lijiang on the 22:30 train bound for Kumming

Monday – arrive within Kumming at 7am. Hopefully store my bags at my old hostel before heading into town for more 'pineapple pie goodness' and topping up on snacks. I'll wait in the restaurant of the hostel until 4pm where I'll go back to the train station for my 6:25pm train to X'ian.

Tuesday – on the train.

Wednesday – Arrive within X'ian at 5am and purchase a train ticket for the 8:25am train to Loyang arriving, totally shattered, at 1:30pm.

Let’s hope it all goes to plan!

Toodle Pip!

The tour group versus the tourist

2011-05-13T14:07:00.000-07:00

Friday 13^th May 2011

18 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: No one – Alicia Keys

Weather: A pleasant temperature with a pale blue sky dominating. Thin white clouds stretched out over large areas and, during the afternoon, Lijiang experienced a short storm.

It was starting to get personal; as I quickened my pace through the cobbled streets of Lijiang I knew that, as every second went by, tour groups got closer. The time was 7:30am and I was out taking photos of the old town before hundreds of Chinese tourists descended. Like I said, it was personal ... it was me versus them. I knew the tour groups would have the numbers on their side however I had time, though the sun wasn't playing fare. The sky, within a lot of my photos, became bleached and I tried many different camera settings to bring it back to reality; some settings were successful but each took time.

At first the cobbled streets were almost deserted; the roads were a little uneven and, with Lijiang's huge footfall, the stones had become shiny reducing grip. I focused mainly on the big tourist areas knowing that, when the crowds came, I could venture off into the side streets. Everywhere you looked the old, grey, Chinese roofs dominated and, with bright green trees located in strategic places, the scenes provided good photo opportunities. I walked this way and that, getting lost numerous times, until I'd covered the main areas. As I walked shops were opening that were barred shut only thirty minutes ago.

I couldn't ignore my stomach any longer; my guidebook had two locations marked for 'great cake' though, within the windy streets of Lijiang, both took time to find. I settled on 'Well Bistro' as they looked open whereas 'Don Papa' didn't. One lady was washing the floor when I stepped in; however it seemed not to matter as she smiled at me and showed me to a table. The cake was cheap but the hot chocolate wasn't; unusually both were served at the same time making a pleasant change. I had little choice in what cheesecake I could opt for and no berries, or cream, accompanied the cake. Still the cake was pleasant enough but not as good as Dali; the hot chocolate gave the same story and I soon paid and left. I continued my photographing by concentrating on the outskirts of the old town. Unlike Dali – where it's new town is located 18km away – Lijiang's new town surrounds it's old so, when a new looking building came into sight, I knew it was time to turn around.

The time was 10am and empty roads I'd walked down only an hour ago were full of people. I tried to take photos but it was getting increasingly difficult, and increasingly time consuming, as I had to wait for people to get out of my way. Around 11am I gave up; I put my camera within my bag and walked for a while heading towards my hostel. This morning I couldn't find my McLaren baseball cap; as I'd walked around the old town I kept trying to retrace my steps and, by the time I found myself at the front door of the 'YHA' hostel (where I booked my train ticket), I knew that I'd either left it here or it was within my dorm. The lady recognised me instantly and apologised greatly due to overcharging me; it turned out that my train tickets cost £15 less than she'd asked for (therefore costing £65) and, as a result, she stood there fanning 135 Yuan. I laughed and took the money knowing that it would be going back to her very shortly; I booked myself onto a day trip to the Tiger Leaping Gorge for tomorrow.

Departing at 7:50am I arrive at a guest house three hours later. Tina's guest house is only a forty minute walk from the gorge and, with the last bus back to Lijiang leaving at 4pm, I should be able to have three or four hours looking around. I gave the lady 110 Yuan and she laughed as she received the money back. As I stepped out of the hostel I popper my head back around the door and inquired into if anyone had found a baseball cap. She searched her wooden reception desk, first scanning left and then right, before showing me a very dirty looking McLaren cap; I smiled and acknowledged that the cap was mine.

Back on the streets of Lijiang I was going to go back to my hostel but, with my baseball cap found, there was no reason to. I went back into town for a quick bite and pondered what to do with the afternoon. First of all I had to purchase snacks for tomorrows trip and then I'll visit the 'Mu Mansion' before climbing up 'Lion Hill'.

I left my hostel, placing my food for tomorrow within my locker, and walked in the direction of 'Mu Mansion'. Little did I know that the white gate I'd photographed earlier was the entrance to said mansion. The crowds had grown and so, apparently, had the entrance price; my guidebook stated that it should cost thirty-five Yuan but there, in black and white … and in English, read 'entrance sixty-five Yuan'. Two questions ran through my head; firstly was the mansion worth £6.50 and secondly was it worth visiting with the tour groups that were bound to be inside. With a no to both questions I left the site, however I felt intrigued wondering what was behind those big white walls. My guidebook stated that the gardens were impressive and maybe on Sunday I'll have a look. For now I departed in the direction of Lion Hill.

Just like every tourist attraction within China finding the entrance presented many problems. I spent half an hour walking in the direction of said hill only to find my way blocked; eventually I found an entrance gate which asked for fifteen Yuan. £1.50 seemed a more logical price for an attraction and so I paid the amount before being told to head left. The entrance fee would have been worth it, just for the view, but being practically the only one up the hill was an added bonus. Below me sat thousands of ancient Chinese roofs that were positioned at all angles hiding any roads from view. The scene below seemed one of tranquillity however I knew anything but would be occurring on those narrow streets. I took many photos enjoying the fact that I had full control over the viewing platform. After this I head along a path that seemed to go into a wooded area. As I walked I turned my MP3 player off; the only sounds I could hear were the birds within the trees and my feet as they leap-frogged one another. This was the first time I'd witnessed total silence within China and it was joyous. Sadly the path didn't last long. I stood on a patch of dry earth with rocks, and trees, positioned sporadically all around, there seemed to be a path above me and so I hiked up to that and followed it back the way I'd come. This path lead to a twenty-two meter high pavilion which looked out of place; sadly a few people were within this area, including a small boy who was crying due to being scared by the peacocks caged to the left.

Before entering the pavilion two smaller shelters were positioned either side of the path; one with a bell and one with a drum inside. Neither held much interest and so, with a quick photo, I went inside the dark pavilion and passed a ticket inspector who was uninterested if I had a ticket or not. I walked up many flights of steps with some barely lit; once at the top a small, squared, wooden platform presented itself. Windows were positioned all the way around with glass that wasn't clear enough for photos. Luckily some panes had been removed and so I took a couple of shots ignoring the small, tacky, souvenir stalls set up behind me. I didn't stay long and I soon found myself back at the entrance; a few spots of rain had begun to fall and so I quickened my pace towards my hostel.

Not enough rain was falling to warrant an umbrella, however even the slightest bit of moisture made the shiny cobbled stones slippery. My pace declined as I found my full concentration was focused on where I was standing; once back at the hostel I got myself, and my computer, within the common room before thunder could be heard. Seconds later a torrent of rain fell from the grey skies above. Lijiang doesn't seem to be as 'hippy' as Dali and, in the seat opposite, sat a genuine, normal, traveller from Israel; we chatted as the rain poured, both focusing on our own PC's from time to time. It's great to be surrounded by real travellers again and I fear, in two days time, this important aspect of travelling will fade as quickly as it had come.

Neither of us witnessed the rain stopping; the Israeli left for food as I looked outside the window to see blue skies once more. I was deeply into my work and so I remained seated until the early evening. With the tour groups on their way home I went in search of food before returning to my hostel; I wasn't that tired but I needed an early night. Tomorrow I had to be up by 7am … I had a tiger to see!

Toodle Pip!

Arrived in Lijiang

2011-05-12T08:48:00.000-07:00

Thursday 12^th May 2011

19 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: She wants to move – N.E.R.D

Weather: Still hot within Dali however the temperature within Lijiang is a lot more pleasant, due to it being higher within the mountains. The skies are still blue and fluffy white clouds float effortlessly across the sky.

Due to having a stupidly early night I was up ... stupidly early. I got ready and went on the internet before time, I thought, had ticked on enough for me to be able to get through the doors of my favourite breakfast joint. As I approached the 'sweet tooth' café it turned out that I was still a little early and so I went for my last walk around the streets of Dali. I'm going to miss Dail; yes it's full of tacky souvenir shops, yes it's full of tour groups and yes you can't really say that it's the 'real China' but the skies are always blue and it has a very relaxed atmosphere.

I ordered the white chocolate cheesecake and once more it came with far too many berries. However, unlike the previous time I'd ordered it, I got cream. I scraped most of the berries off and cut the cake into slices; each slice was accompanied with a proportionate amount of cream and berries. I couldn't really savour the flavour, due to constantly 'clock watching', therefore I ate quickly and headed back to my hostel to pay my accommodation bill.

I hadn't been informed that a taxi would be taking me to my coach, however it wasn't a major problem. My only concern was that if the taxi dropped me off incorrectly I had nothing written in Chinese asking where the coach to Lijiang departed from. The hostel receptionist walked me to the taxi pick-up point and we chatted slightly before it arrived. The taxi driver had to pick up one other person (a Chinese girl who spoke a little English) before dropping me off, at a tourist office, that I could have walked to quicker. There we both waited for our coach to Lijiang.

The coach turned up half an hour late; the driver had a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth and looked uninterested as he put mine, and the girls, rucksacks in the boot of the vehicle. There were already people on the coach and I was surprised to find a single-seat remaining vacant. As we drove away there were a few reasons why said seat had been left vacant; firstly there wasn't any leg room and so I had to sit sideways, secondly the sun was beating through the window burning my arm (I still didn't close the curtain as I wanted to see where I was going) but the most annoying aspect of sitting within this seat was that the window next to me was loose rattling for the entire journey. I pressed my MP3 players ear phones, gently into my ears, and turned the volume up.

I spent the first part of the trip reading my guidebook, looking up things that I would like to do within Lijiang. After that I looked at the view outside; at first the view wasn't that spectacular and I was contemplating in pulling the curtain to save the skin on my arm. I persevered; I moved slightly away from the window and continued to look, using my hat to try and provide shade. As the hours ticked by the view got better; we started to climb up into the mountains and deathly drops could be seen below. The ground was dry and rocks were scattered across the landscape but there were few trees or urban settlements. The settlements I did see were usually agricultural; the villages were surrounded by fields and many a peasant could be seen working away. It was a lovely sight, but nothing I'd not seen before. For the last hour the road turned into a dirt track – due to roadworks – and I was thrown this way and that; the window started to rattle even louder and I could feel eyes upon me as if it was my fault. To make matters worse some of the Chinese had started to spit into the bins provided and one guy was smoking … with a no smoking sign above his head.

Eventually we stopped within Lijiang. One positive was that we had stopped closer to the old town than I'd expected; on the bad side I had no idea where I was. I started to study my map when the only other tourist on the bus – who also happened to be British – came and asked if we could travel together. That was fine by me though he had less of an idea where we were than I did. The Chinese girl, who'd boarded the coach with me, tried to help. Luckily I had my destination written in Chinese; she grabbed the piece of paper out of my hand and went to ask the first local she could find. I was praying more that the sheet of paper would be returned (as without it I had no hope) than actually been given the correct directions; the girl returned, handed me my directions, and pointed westerly. Before we could thank her she had started walking within the opposite direction.

After a few minutes walking I had some idea of where we were; west seemed a logical direction and so we continued walking. As if by magic a Chinese guy appeared out of nowhere and decided to accompany us; with his large suitcase he struggled to keep up however he kept talking in Chinese and, occasionally, would grab my directions from me to ask locals. As quickly as he had appeared he seemed to disappear; we looked behind us but shrugged as we decided that he had been consumed by the crowds. It mattered not, we were getting close and, after asking another two locals, we found ourselves at a crossroads within the old town. I usually ask older people for directions, as they seem to know where places are; however as I looked to my right two Chinese women – with really short and really tight skirts – were coming along the street towards us. The look of the 'innocent tourist' comes easy to me now and as they approached I asked them for help. Once again my Chinese directions were grabbed from my hands and they started walking down a street to my right; I followed, flicking through the pages of my guidebook trying to find 'fancy dinner later' in Chinese without success.

Following two women presented it's own entertainment and I didn't really take in much of the surroundings. All too soon the girls stopped; I looked at the sign to my right to find that we were stood outside the hostel I was booked into. I thanked them, still annoyed that I couldn't work out how to ask them for their numbers, as they smiled and left. The hostel seemed nice enough; the receptionist's English wasn't perfect but I managed to check-in successfully. The other English guy decided to check in too and we were both shown to the same dorm room. A little small but pleasant enough we both dropped our stuff off before heading into town. The time was 3pm and I was starving.

My guidebook stated that the small cobbled streets of Lijiang were a maze for the inexperienced and it wasn't lying; the streets were narrow and they turned and twisted as if they had a life of their own. It was difficult to pinpoint useful landmarks as all the buildings looked the same, all sold the same tourist souvenirs and all seemed to play the same music. We walked for a while in any direction that took our fancy; we chatted about our travels as it appears that we have both been to the same places. Lijiang maybe a maze but it's extremely pleasant; whereas Dali was flat, Lijiang is built on a hillside meaning that many roofs, of many buildings, can be seen as you look up. Small stone bridges crossed smaller stoned rivers and squares appeared out of nowhere. We didn't walk for long as we were both hungry; we found a restaurant and were shown to a table in front of a live musician. We tried to keep our conversation alive but the music was too loud, in the end we asked to be reseated to which the waiter moved us to the third floor over looking the street below. The view was lovely however we both felt that the waiter had been a little extreme; I ordered a plate of vegetables, with tofu, which was as exciting as it sounded. We ate and chatted for a while before leaving said restaurant full, but bored.

We continued to walk through the old town before returning to our hostel; once back I picked up my diary and went to reception to book my 'Epic train journey'. In three days time I want to start travelling to Loyuang, which is five hours to the east of Xi'an; at the best its going to take three nights and consists of taking:

- a night train from Lijiang to Kumming

- a two night train from Kumming to Xi'an

- a five hour train from Xi'an to Loyuang

In some ways I was looking forward to the journey; all of it would be in the comfort of a soft seater cabin and, as long as I stocked up on supplies, it should allow me to rest and get back on schedule. I went to the reception to purchase said tickets however, due to their lack of English, the process became painful. Instead I opted to follow the suggestion made by a fellow traveller and I walked down to the local 'HI' hostel. I walked into a rather pleasant building with a wooden counter, there I presented my mammoth trip to the lady on reception. Apart from answering the phone while serving me she was very polite, helpful and pleasant; she said that she could only help with the first two train journeys as the last one would started outside of the province of Yunnan; using the internet she showed me that many services depart from Xi'an to Loyuang and once she'd written down a short passage, in Chinese, stating that “...I would like to purchase a soft seat on the 8:35am, or 8:55am, train from Xi'an to Loyuang...” I was more than confident that I could get this rail ticket on my arrival within Xi'an. Once the two rail tickets had been booked I asked her about a day trip to the 'Tiger Leaping Gorge' which she said was possible; the hike takes two days and I haven't got that amount of time but the day trip sounded promising. It consisted of a three hour bus ride before being dropped off forty minutes from the gorge; I decided to think about it but, having come all this way, I was very tempted. I thanked her and said that I'll be back tomorrow to pick up my train tickets (which cost £80 … not bad considering three days of travel).

I returned to my hostel to find my evening disappearing. The English guy I'd met earlier had found a small group of travellers to chat too, which consisted of one Canadian and two British; I joined in the conversation until they left for tea allowing me to surf the web. Tomorrow I'll look around Lijiang, including the 'Black Dragon Pools', before picking up my train tickets and, I think, booking myself on a trip to the gorge for Saturday. For now sleep … it's been a long day.

Toodle Pip!

If you don't ask you don't get

2011-05-11T11:30:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 11^th May 2011

20 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Jumping Jack Flash – Rolling Stones

Weather: Hooot.

My mornings seem to have become a pleasurable routine of waking up early and eating cake for breakfast. Today was no acception. Once I'd devoured another slice of cheesecake I walked to the nearest bus stop to, yet again, head into the town of 'New Dali'. Even though I knew where the offices were I still presented the driver with the same piece of paper shown two days ago. He nodded indicating that he would let me know where to get off.

The bus wasn't as full as on Monday and so I retained my seat; as I approached the visa office I noticed that the antenna, on top of the building, looked like a miniature silver version of the Eiffel Tower. Without a nod from the driver I disembarked the service and walked into the visa office without hesitation. The office was empty and the guy, who I'd spoken to on Monday, was sat in the same chair. “Please wait a few minutes” he said as I sat on the stool opposite him; I could see that he was printing out my extended visa and, with careful precision, he stuck it onto an empty page within my passport. Once back in my hands I checked the details of my new visa thoroughly; I was now entitled to stay within China until my flight. I thanked the guy and left.

The bus was packed and so I alighted a couple of stops early and walked the rest of the way. Once back at the hostel I booked a bus to Lijiang, for tomorrow, before heading to an internet café to book accommodation. Once my accommodation was booked I sent a few emails including one to British Airways (BA); after writing a few lines of flattery I explained to BA that my coming flight was my final one within a year of travel. I continued by saying that I would like to use my 'BA points' to upgrade my seat as a 'celebration'. I'm pretty sure that I haven't got enough points to get a fee toothpick, let alone an upgrade to a 'pod' class seat, but 'if you don't ask you don't get'.

The computer shut down after an hours of use. I went back to my hostel momentarily to print off directions to the hostel, within Lijiang, before heading into town for lunch; with nothing much to do I continued the 'blog' work, that I started yesterday, and sat in the sun, with an orange juice, until the early evening. My bus leaves at nine tomorrow morning arriving in Lijiang at 1pm. I need to pack, have a shower and an early night; tomorrow I should be able to grab a final slice of cake before heading back to my hostel and being picked up. Finally I'm moving again!

Toodle Pip!

Blog tastic

2011-05-10T09:19:00.000-07:00

Tuesday 10^th May 2011

21 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: X and Y – Cold Play

Weather: Hooot.

It's ironic that, now I had ear plugs at the ready, they weren't needed. I woke up at 7:00am noticing that only half the beds were occupied and the room had a deathly silence. Having nothing urgent on I went back to sleep for another hour before getting up slowly.

Once again I occupied the first wooden table, on the right, within the 'Sweet Tooth' café. With my usual hot chocolate ordered I added a slice of white chocolate cheesecake with berries; when I'd viewed said cheesecake, within the glass cabinet next to the counter, I couldn't see any berries and presumed that they were inside the cake. As a waitress approached, walking extremely slowly fully focused on the over flowing hot chocolate within her left hand, I noticed that said berries had been placed on top of the cake. Once again the cake was delicious and I ate slowly as I read my guidebook; I scraped most of the berries off as they were rich and only a few were needed to compliment the taste of the cheesecake, otherwise they would have consumed it. There wasn't anything left in Dali that I wanted to do; looking out of the window it seemed to be a fine day and so I contemplated going back up the mountains. Even though I'd enjoyed walking along the path two days ago – and given that today was a weekday therefore it would be quieter – I rejected the idea as I couldn't justify spending the money on something I'd already done. I flicked back and forth through the pages of my book until my cheesecake had been eaten and my hot chocolate had been drunk. A decision had been made and, even though it wasn't that interesting, it was something that had to be done.

I went to the local supermarket to purchase chocolate before returning to my hostel. After collecting my laundry I sat down to work on my blog; the end of my trip is coming and this means a few posts need to be written. Firstly a summary of China needed to be done and, as I've been here over a month, I thought I was capable of making a start. After this I wanted to do a round up of my favourite experiences and a blog of valuable information that I could pass onto others who might be planning their year away … How I envy them.

As you can appreciate the above takes time. I'd just finished my China round-up when it was time for lunch. I went into town, more for the walk than the choice of food, and had something to eat before restocking on chocolate and heading back to the hostel. I continued to work late into the evening; on the one hand I was a little conscious that I'd wasted my day however, on the other hand, I'd made a dent into things that needed to be done and the restful day was welcome. Tomorrow I shall head into new Dali to pick up my extended visa before coming back to book my transport to Lijiang. Fingers crossed all goes well.

Another week has rolled by and there isn't much to report other than the Chinese authorities take forever to extend visa's. My daily spending has taken another tumble for the better; it now stands at £29.33 per day.

Toodle Pip!

P.S. As I've been writing said blogs I've had an annoying fly keep landing on my shirt. It's been attached to me throughout the day and, try as I might, I cannot get hold of it. It's a shame that beautiful women don't find me as attractive. I've always said that flies are a good judge of character.

Offices, lakes and time

2011-05-09T09:58:00.000-07:00

Monday 9^th May 2011

22 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Que sera sera – Doris Day

Weather: A lot cooler than yesterday - due to having more clouds - but still a 'baby blue' sky could be seen. During the late afternoon the clouds drew in and a light rain shower occurred.

Unbelievably I woke up to the sound of snoring once again; the thunderous noise came from the guy to my right and, once he'd started, others followed. I looked at my watch waiting for my eyes to focus on it's tiny face … 6:30am. Still it could have been worse; last night the room stunk of weed and I was almost certain Britney Spears was in the bunk opposite. Trying to sleep was useless therefore I got up and got ready, not caring if I made a noise as I closed the dorm door behind me. Once washed and dressed it was still too early to descend on 'Old Dali towns' police office and so I sat down, with one of the hostels computers in front of me, and read through all the articles - on the BBC sport website - in regards to the latest Formula One race. Eventually time ticked on and so I made the decision that it was time to leave the hostel; I went once more into my dorm picking up items that I would need and leaving my camera behind.

'Sweet Tooth' café wasn't open this early and so I decided to eat breakfast after I'd got my certificate. I walked east and, after thirty minutes or so, I found myself, once again, facing 'Tol Seng' prison. I walked up the stone stair case showing the note, that I'd been given by my hostel, to any officer who stopped me. Once on the third floor I stopped outside the office I'd been told to, finding the door padlocked. I'm not sure if one of the officers, who had passed me by on the stairs, had notified the police woman that I was waiting, or if she had arrived round the same time as I but I didn't have to wait long. A Chinese woman, of average height and build, stood in a police uniform with a neutral expression. She unlocked her office, beckoned me in and turned her PC on. I sat down in an old, burgundy, leather chair that reclined too much to be comfortable; the police lady put her lunch on her desk and logged onto the machine to her right. The woman entered my passport details into a database and, in return for my patience, I was handed a 'certificate of residence' which I thanked her for before heading back to my hostel.

I'd made a quick stop for another slice of 'chocolate chip cheesecake with a hot chocolate' before presenting my certificate to the receptionist at my hostel. She, in return, explained the next stage of the visa process which involved me catching bus number eight towards the 'new town' of Dali. The bus stop wasn't far and luckily there was a service waiting for me; I showed the driver a piece of paper which stated where I wanted to go and if he would let me know when I was there. At first the service was empty and I had a row of seats to my self however, as we moved through the town, the bus became full resulting in me surrendering my seat to a lady with a young baby (no one else was going to). She thanked me as I stood near to her trying to keep eye contact with the driver whilst allowing room for the endless queues of people who kept coming on board.

We drove through the outskirts of town where the driver indicated that my stop was imminent; I pushed my way through the crowds, thanked the driver, and departed the service. Letting the dust settle I looked at my surroundings; As I walked towards my destination part of me wished the office was within the town, as I was craving more McDonald's pineapple pie goodness (I have missed those). After asking numerous gate guards I finally found an entrance I was allowed to proceed through; in front of me was a large, bland, rectangle building with an antenna on top. The visa reception was manned by three people; with only one other customer I was served immediately by a young guy who spoke English. I provided my certificate, my passport and a photo and he, in return, asked me to fill out a form. He seemed pleasant enough and, as I wrote, we talked about boxing and Formula One. His joyous mood put me at ease and I could almost see my granted visa extension though, once I'd given back the form, he said that I'd have to come back on Wednesday. “Wednesday” I replied sounding a little shocked; “yes”, replied the assistant, “we need three days to check your details”. Having no choice I left my passport, thanked him, and turned around trying to hide my disappointment.

I did think about heading into the new town of Dali but instead I caught the bus back; the bus was a lot less crowded which gave me time to think. I was booked into my hostel until Tuesday and so another night was needed; this endless waiting was becoming a pain and time was slipping from me however I had no choice, I had to sit it out and wait. Once back at the hostel I extended my stay for a further night explaining my situation. I sat at the counter flicking through my diary; the earliest I could leave Dali was Thursday 12^th May and then I wanted to spend four nights within Lijiang before heading back to Kumming to catch the train to Luoyang. I would probably have to spend at least one night in Kumming before embarking on my two night train trip; this would make the date Thursday 19^th May. Three nights in Luoyang, with a further three nights in Xi'an, would leave five nights to get to Beijing and look around which, by all accounts, is cutting it a little fine. I dropped my laundry off at the hostel reception before heading out, still with the above predicament firmly within my head.

My destination was the lake front which, I estimated, would be a good hours walk away. I stopped within town for an early lunch, reading my guidebook and running through the predicament within my head. I was going to loose a lot of time travelling from Lijiang, through Kumming, to Luoyang (four nights) and I wondered whether a flight might be the best course of action. I would have to check the difference in price and, with that decision made, I closed my guidebook as lunch approached; I ate quickly and soon I found myself back on the streets of Dali heading east.

Of course, just like everything in China, trying to get to 'Er Hai's' river front proved difficult; I spent a while walking along Dali's main highway looking for a road east. After having dust blown into my face numerous times a road could be seen. The sign stated that it was 3km to the river and so I started to walk; within a minute or two I stumbled across a new housing estate. There was no one around and so I enjoyed the opportunity to take photos of buildings without hordes of people in my way. After ten minutes or so I realised that no one lived here; the buildings were all built, bus stops along the highway had been erected and the gardens had been landscaped beautifully and yet, peering through some of the windows, the rooms were left undecorated with no furniture. As I walked the site seemed to grow and the same story repeated itself; it did make excellent photography but it made me wonder why so made houses remained vacant. Thoughts of 'Silent Hill' came rushing into my head and, after a few photos, I left heading towards my destination. I kept walking noticing that - due to the road being straight - my destination never seemed to get any closer; buses passed me by, throwing dust within my path, as I looked out across the rice fields. Just like within Vietnam the fields consisted of the purest colour of green and, with the blue skies above, they made a pleasing site that you would miss being stuck on a bus. I saw many locals work the fields and many more sitting around drinking tea and playing cards.

Finally, heroically, I made it to a ticket barrier that prevented me from going any further. The ticket barrier was for the ferry that docked on the pier in front; to my right was a small stone bridge that lead to a stone path. Trees lined the rough pathway that I followed in the direction of the lake; the view, partially hidden by trees that lined the bank, was stunning and once more memories of Canada and New Zealand flooded into my head. I occasionally broke through the line of trees and balanced myself upon rocks to get photos of the view before me; I hadn't seen water this blue since New Zealand and, with the sky and the mountains in the background, it was a pleasant place to be. My only regret was that the path ended almost as soon as it begun; I'd only walked for five minutes when the path headed west back the way I'd come. I tried to find a way to continue along the river but there were no side streets, only the road I'd walked down. With no choice I reluctantly started the hours walk back to my hostel, once more seeing the same people working within the rice fields..

Before reaching the hostel I sat on a bench, along the main street with Dali, eating the chocolate and drinking the drink that I'd just purchased. It was nice to see people pass me by, in a world of their own, however I did get hounded by a guy who wanted to clean my shoes and a group of girls who wanted to take my photo without asking. Neither were successful. Once back at the hostel I got asked the bizarre question “... can turtles float?...” As my head tried to form some logical reason for said question I saw one hippy hold a turtle above a fish bowl. I replied that, considering the shell is quite heavy, I didn't think he would be able to float. “...But they can swim?...” was his reply to which I answered “... only some...”. With that the guy decided to give the turtle a bath by dunking him into the water three or four times; another hippy had just purchased two fish which she had put within a glass bowl. I couldn't fully hear the conversation but it sounded as though she was going to kill them in an 'artistic way to express herself'. I hate tree loving, acorn tea drinking, baggy trouser wearing hippies.

The evening soon came and rain began to fall. I found myself, once more, within the towns internet café; I did the usual stuff - checking emails and uploading photos – before investigating flight and train prices ... plus searching for accommodation within Lijiang. I'm not booking anything until I have my passport back with my visa extension; once that is done I'll start to get myself sorted. Tonight ear plugs!

Toodle Pip!

Hiking once more

2011-05-08T08:54:00.000-07:00

Sunday 8^th May 2011

23 days left traveling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Climb every mountain – Sound of Music

Weather: Hot; however the further I ascended, up the mountain, the cooler it became. Temperature aside the weather was perfect; bright blue skies with fluffy white clouds … lovely

I awoke to a choir of snoring hippies; it would appear that at least three – one of which was a woman – of my eleven 'room mates' were snoring away each using a different tone, depth and length. Neither person was in time with the other and so trying to sleep was useless; I sat up in bed, trying to think of a song that sounded similar to the snoring that surrounded me but none came to mind. Eventually I got up and got ready.

I decided to try the 'Oreo cheesecake' today and, whilst it was very pleasant, it wasn't as nice as yesterdays cake. The absence of cream didn't help but, even so, I finished the cake before I'd even drunk half of my hot chocolate. The plan for today was to ascend as far up Zhonghe Peak as possible. Unfortunately my guidebook seemed vague on how to get to the base of the mountain; as I read it seemed that I had to start at a small bridge, on the highway just north of the town. Once there I had to walk through a cemetery before coming across a huge engraved stone. This description left me puzzled as to why I had to head north when Zhonghe Peak was due west. I didn't argue; I tilted my head back, drinking the last mouthful of hot chocolate, before getting up and heading towards the northern gate.

I walked for ages; at first I did indeed head north however, once I'd arrived at the 'San Ta' pagodas - that I'd visited yesterday - I knew that I'd gone too far. I therefore followed the main highway south, looking west. I walked up two or three side-streets searching for a bridge, cemetery or a huge engraved stone but none could be seen. After almost two hours of searching I walked up, what looked like, a main road due west of Dali. Half way up I met two tuk-tuk drivers trying to offer me a ride; I declined and continued walking west until I met a dead-end. As I came back down the road one of tuk-tuk drivers crossed my path showing me a photo of a cable car running up a mountain. I really wanted to walk up said mountain however, given the fact that even finding the entrance was proving difficult, I followed the way the tuk-tuk driver was pointing. She stopped me, once more, with her male college by her side; I think they were asking for either two Yuan to take me there, or two Yuan for the information they had divulged. Either way I wasn't paying and so I played the confused tourist by thanking them a lot before, once again, walking in the direction that they had pointed. As I walked the man got into his tuk-tuk and followed me; I'd give him ten out of ten for being persistent however he was a lot easier to shake off than the vultures within South East Asia.

As I thought a tuk-tuk ride wasn't necessary. I soon found myself approaching a gate with a ticket office to the right hand side; unlike most countries I found myself forced to pay an entrance fee (£3) to walk up a natural feature that no one man had the right to own … Kiwi's wouldn't put up with this! Just past the ticket office I saw the cable car departure point and, at only £2.50, I thought about taking the lazy way up. Even though I'd walked two hours to get this far I declined paying as the cable car was actually a ski lift. As I saw the benches swing helplessly within the air I decided that it was probably better keeping my feet firmly on the ground. I turned around and started along the mountain path; as I looked up the summit it seemed a long way a way.

Once I'd signed into 'check point one' I followed the path that the 'forest guard' had pointed to. Only after a few minutes of walking did I stumble upon a fork in the road; it was easy to determine which path I needed but I made a mental note of the junction for the return journey. As I continued walking I hoped that there weren't going to be too many more deviations ahead. I had barely begun walking when I noticed a young Chinese couple, within the middle of a multiple path junction, looking as lost as I did. With no signs we decided to walk together and keep the ski lift within site. Both were college students within Dali, the guy couldn't speak English whereas his girlfriend, who was cute, could speak a few words. The fact that neither were fluent in English didn't really matter as the ascent was steep and we kept talking to a minimum.

All around Chinese tombs could be seen and we had our first rest stop within the middle of some. Once sat down the girl asked why I hadn't taken the ski lift; as I had taken every step I'd been asking myself the same question and I said to her that I liked to walk … she smiled and said that they liked to walk too. Even though the pine trees provided some shade the day was still extremely hot; add to this the punishing pace we kept meant that I was regretting putting on a clean shirt today as it was already soaked in sweat. We kept pressing on, keeping one eye on the path and the other on the ski lift above. My guidebook stated that the ascent should have taken two hours however, with no signs, I think we had taken a much quicker ascending path and within an hour we were at the top. We walked slowly to the benches provided over looking the town of Dali; my guidebook stated that “... the views of the lake and the mountains beyond are stupendous...”. I agreed as I took my time photographing the panoramic view that lay below me. The sun was so fierce that it did 'white wash' the mountains within the back ground however that didn't matter much, just to be away from the crowds and to be given this exceptional view was fine by me.

My guidebook said very little other than about the view and the small temple which lay behind me; it was my new Chinese friends that said they were going to take the mountain walkway south to the far end. “... That's over 9km!...” I replied as I looked at my watch; the girl agreed innocently and stated that the guard estimated the hike would take three hours. Three hours there, three hours back and around two hours to get to Dali; as the time was 11am that would mean arriving back within Dali at 7pm cutting it tight for daylight. As I expressed my concerns the girl said that there was a cable car, at the other end of the walkway, which we could take to get back to the main highway. Glad that we wouldn't have to back-track I accepted their invitation to join them and, after going through another checkpoint, we set off south.

At first I wondered where my entrance fee had gone; the path up had been terrible with no signs and multiple routes. However, as I walked up the final steps to a stone paved path, I realised that the money had been well spent. The path ahead was at least three people wide with wooden barriers erected along it's exposed flank. The path was made from cut stone and was completely level; at first I wondered just how long this 'level path' would last until difficult ground would take over however, after an hour's walking, I realised that it would last the whole way meaning that we should make good time. I walked behind my two Chinese friends and, often, I would witness the guy push his girlfriend away from the edge and towards the safety of the mountain wall; he, being the man, would take the exposed flank but it did make me laugh as I noticed that he didn't like heights … still the act was cute. As I walked I couldn't help the smile upon my face become larger and larger. All of my senses were under attack; my eyes could see the mountains with a sheer drop below, my nose could smell the sent of pine mixed with mountain flowers, my ears could hear the slight sounds of nature and my taste buds were enjoying the strawberry sweet I was devouring. It was at this point that memories of the mountains of Canada, the glaciers of Alaska and the lakes of New Zealand all came back to me in one giant panoramic view. I realised that where I was now equalled any of those and I was glad to add this location to that mental image. As quickly as my smile appeared it faded and a frown, plus a lump within my throat, took it's place; I wondered when I would be able to see such wonderful places again. Travelling is both a blessing and a curse; you get to experience beautiful places but it leaves you not wanting to let go. With commitments, bound to come once home, I did wonder if I was ever going to see the places that had captivated me.

My thoughts were rudely interrupted as we came around a corner; unbeknown to us we had managed to catch up with a rather large group of Chinese students. Unable to keep quiet they were shouting, playing music and, what only can be described as, performing battle cries. The group was large and getting around them proved difficult; I would have pushed my way through, trying to extend the ground between the group and I as fast as possible, however my two Chinese friends seemed content with the group and so I had to endure it. I walked a little slower than previously, taking photos as I tried to block out the barbaric noise. No wildlife would be spotted whilst we remained entangled within this mob.

After another thirty minutes the mob stopped for a break; I was glad to see that my friends, in front of me, didn't follow suit and we were soon away. I over took them to set the pace trying to gain as much ground between us and the mob; they could still be heard for quite a while but, once round a rather sharp corner, the battle cries died and I was, once again, alone with only the beautiful view of the mountains and valley floor far below. We eventually made a stop of our own; I was glad for the time to take in food but I kept one ear pricked for the sound of the mob. Fortunately we didn't stay long and soon we were back on the stoned path. Once again the guy pushed his girlfriend towards the mountains walls and he resumed his flanking position.

On our walk we were supposed to deviate towards three attractions; The Phoenix and Dragon Eye caves should have been coming into view by now. There was also the Seven Dragon Maidens pools but all were closed as we approached. There was no explanation for the closure however I did wonder if they would have been worth seeing; looking over the edge, and towards the valley floor, the basin of a dried river could be seen clearly. It would appear that this wasn't the rainy season as every river, waterfall and stream were without water. Still I tired not to let this spoil the terrain as the area was truly stunning.

It was 2pm when we arrived at the gondola; there was one other attraction, that was open, which the Chinese two were interested in seeing. I was a little conscious of the time; it would take an hour of walking and gondola riding to make it back to the main highway and then, probably, another two hours of walking back to the town of Dali. Still remembering that, without these two, I wouldn't have found this path I followed their lead, eternally grateful for the day they have given me. As we climbed a set of steps towards the 'Qingbi Stream' I did wondered why my guidebook hadn't written about this beautiful walk; my only conclusion was that as my guidebook was written in 2008 - and this path seems very new – I can imagine that this scenic delight hadn't existed three years ago.

We made it to a viewing platform were we could see the 'Qinbi Stream'. Just like the other streams, rivers and waterfalls we viewed a basin which was empty of water. Yet the valley the water had cut was spectacular; we walked partway along the river bed stopping at the first sheltered bench for a rest. It was at this point that all three of us realised that we were tired and so we turned around and went back to the gondola. Just before reaching the departure building we stumbled upon a giant Chinese chess set constructed on a large, flat, stone surface surrounded by a sharp descent to the valley floor. Unfortunately the pieces were too heavy to move and I though that was a shame as this would have been a great place for a game. As I looked to the sky I saw gondolas swing past and I was glad to see that they were small capsules rather than ski lift benches. I joined the queue with my two new friends trying to get a discount with their student passes. However, alas, there was no discount available and we all had to pay fifty Yuan (£5) each.

We had a capsule to ourselves and the ride was enjoyable. I was glad to be descending due to witnessing a large dark cloud enveloping the tips of the mountains moving towards our position. The view wasn't as good as when we were walking as the stained plastic panels – of the gondola - prevented seeing out clearly; I looked around at the main towns below identifying which one was Dali and estimating how long it would take to walk there. Once off we walked down a few stone steps and into a car park; I was trying to find a footpath down to the highway whereas the couple were chatting to a guy who'd approached them. Within a flash they asked me to follow them and soon enough I sat within a small mini-van. As we started to move I asked how much the trip would cost and I was told twenty-five Yuan (£2.50); I wasn't sure if that was per person or for the hire of the vehicle, either way it wasn't bad value and I didn't complain.

The driver stopped at the southern gates of the city; the girl smiled thanking me for a lovely day and saying that they both had to go back to university. I opened my wallet to retrieve the agreed sum when she said no, they would pay. I tried to push as much money onto her as possible but she laughed and kept declining. I reluctantly put my money back within my wallet and thanked them for a great day; I waved them off before turning around and walking through the southern gate heading, not for my hostel, but for the local supermarket. Even though the supermarket wasn't on my way back I needed a chocolate fix; it didn't take long and soon I had a 'galaxy white' bar within my mouth as I back-tracked to my hostel. Even though it was 4pm I was totally shattered; I hadn't hiked like that since the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia. I spent the late afternoon chilling before heading to the local internet café to upload my photos and check on the F1 race. Having missed lunch I had a heartily evening meal before going for a long shower. As I got into bed I knew that no amount of snoring was going to wake me tonight!

Tomorrow I have to be up early to, hopefully, sort out my visa once and for all. I hope everything goes well tomorrow, I don't want to think about being rejected the extension as I'm not sure what I'll do. If all goes to plan then, after getting my extension, I want to book transport to Lijang – plus accommodation – and get some laundry done. It looks as though tomorrow will be a jobs day!

Toodle Pip!

The thought of dishonesty overshadows honesty

2011-05-07T06:36:00.000-07:00

Saturday 7^th May 2011

24 days left travelling the world.

MP3 track of the day: Winter - Vivaldi

Weather: T-shirt weather during the day, whereas a coat was required within the early morning and evening.

I found myself, pacing the streets of Dali, a little too early for it to be useful; before heading to the pagodas I wanted to have eaten breakfast and exchanged the book that I held within my hands however, due to the time being 7:30am, every store was shut. I held my coat tightly against my body and placed my hat upon my head; without the sun's influence this town had a chill, but the town was no less beautiful. I walked around waiting for things to open, annoyingly tour groups had already started to appear. At 7:45am the 'Sweet Tooth' cafe was starting to open; as I walked past the shutters were being pushed aside, a young man was mopping the floor and the 'closed' sign had been flipped to open. I decided to give them a little longer before I descended demanding food; I walked around the block once more.

My guidebook stated that 'Sweet Tooth's' cheesecake was 'especially good', and it wasn't wrong in it's judgment. As I took my first mouthful, of the 'chocolate chip cheesecake' that I'd ordered, it seemed to melt within my mouth leaving my taste buds delighted. I continued eating, either adding a little fresh cream to the cake or swilling it down with the warm hot chocolate that sat to my left. After the last mouthful I sat back satisfied; the cost had been worth the taste and I pre-booked my table for the same time tomorrow. I walked the short distance required to the book shop; I found it closed and it would remain that way for another thirty minutes. Again I decided to aimlessly walk around the town noticing that the number of tourists seem to rise with every passing minute. Eventually I arrived back at the book store to find it open; once inside I failed to see the lady that I'd spoken to yesterday and so I inquired into her whereabouts. After being told that she would be in later I left, still with my novel within my hands.

Back at the hostel I grabbed my camera, from my locker, and left my coat on my bed. As I'd mentioned yesterday the plan was to head north to the 'San Ta' pagodas before returning to town, for lunch, and then heading south to 'Yita Si' pagoda. My guidebook stated that the 'San Ta' pagodas were located within a twenty minutes walk of the cities northern walls and it didn't take long before I could see the tops of the three, sand coloured, pagodas within the distance. Just like clockwork I found myself, twenty minutes later, within a large car park; in front of me was a tall wall with the three pagodas, slightly hidden from view, behind it. I went into the ticket office and stopped before I got to the counter. 121 Yuan (£12) was the admission cost and I left, disgusted at the price. Instead I decided to walk the perimeter of the walls taking cheeky photos when the opportunity arose. As I walked up a cobbled pathway I thought about the cost of things within China. Accommodation is dirt cheap with the average night costing me £3; food isn't too bad either but attractions are astronomically high meaning that you have to choose carefully what you see.

The time was 10am and the sun was coming into it's strongest; after taking a couple of photos of the pagoda, and the Chinese village surrounding it, I headed back into Dali. As if by magic I arrived at my hostel precisely at 11am. I stopped there for 'elevenses' before moving onto 'Yita Si' temple. This one was a lot closer to Dali than the 'San Ta' temples and it only took five minutes of walking to find it closed for renovation work; I cautiously walked onto the site to take a couple of photos, which a local didn't like. I took two shots before leaving sharpish.

Once again I found myself within my hostels common area; however this time I'd completed what I'd set myself to see, for the day, and it was only noon. I grabbed a drink and read my guidebook; I decided to head into Dali once more and continue through the town until I reached the lake. This, I thought, would take up the rest of the day and so I closed my guidebook satisfied that no further planning was required. Once in town I went back to the book store to find that the lady still wasn't there; I left, promising to return later. Sticking to my plan I continued walking east however, it soon became apparent that the logical decision would be to have lunch before departing the town for the lake. The only snag was that I didn't feel that hungry. I therefore decided to walk around the old walls of Dali before returning to the centre for a quick lunch and off to the lake.

As most of Dali's walls have been destroyed walking on them wasn't a possibility; instead I tried to follow the original town boundary at street level. This presented problems as a lot of private developments had sprawled either side of the walls blocking my route; after trying to follow the walls numerous times I gave up. I was tired and fed up so I went for an early lunch.

I know what 'Sweet 'n' Sour' chicken is and, what was placed in front of me, certainly wasn't it. I found that in the middle of a small plate, surrounded by slices of cucumber, sat chicken within a very dark brown sauce. Mixed in with this sauce were sesame seeds and, as I picked up my chopsticks and bit into the first piece of chicken, I knew that I'd should have gone for the burger. As I ate a Chinese guy sat in the seat opposite; slight stunned I stopped eating wondering if he was about to tell me that I was in fact digesting dog. He did not; instead he asked if I would like to join him, and his four friends, on the table opposite as he wanted to chat in English. A little annoyed I said that I would join him after I'd ate the meal that he'd interrupted.

I paid my bill and thanked the waitress for a delightful meal. I was cautious in joining the group at first; as I walked to their table I asked myself what did they want. I sat down and was offered a cup of tea; I rejected as I had my own drink to finish and I didn't want to be landed a bill. At first I was quite defensive, making sure that I had one hand on my wallet at all times. However, over time, I realised that there request had been genuine. I started to relax and answered all the questions they threw at me; I was surprised to find that one of them was studying Japanese, one had worked within Japan and both liked the country … maybe the hatred wasn't as wide spread as I thought. I was asked all the usual questions and, in the end, they said that they were in awe of me as I had been to so many places. I replied by saying that they could too but they looked horrified at the idea; they said that they wanted too but that they had to have a good job, a nice house and a partner or else people would think that less of them. It was interesting to see that the same social pressures that face me within the UK also seem important so far away. I explained that travelling could help them in gaining a better job and, even though some liked the idea, I could see it in their faces that travelling would remain just an idea.

I stayed for over an hour before making my excuses to leave. I had my photo taken and then I was off, back to the book store. As I walked towards the store I thought about one particular question I'd been asked. “...Had I had anything stolen?...” No was the honest answer and they looked stunned. Within my mind I re-evaluated my reply; I had said that I'd always kept my stuff locked and that, if anyone approached me on the streets, I would have walked away not giving a second glance. I had enjoyed chatting to the Chinese group and I wondered if I'd missed opportunities by being over cautious of my own safety and personnel possessions. It would appear that the thought of dishonesty overshadows honesty and I wondered if it would have been worth loosing a couple of possessions to gain more communication with locals. As I went through the door of the book store I realised that it was too late worrying about that now.

The lady was there and it didn't take much persuasion for her to hand over the book. She flicked through my book, happy with it's condition, before asking me for an additional sixty-five Yuan (£6.50). Once the book was within my hands I couldn't stop a huge smile appearing upon my face; the lady too seemed to smile and we shared a few sentences about the qualities of a good book. Before I left she gave me one of her book marks for free; I thanked her one last time before departing.

Once I'd purchased supplies, for tomorrows hike up the mountains, I returned to my hostel. Balancing weight with the need for food and drink I purchased a large bottle of water and a few sweet items. I didn't stay long within my hostel, all of the messy haired, bare foot, weed smoking hippies were out doing 'hippy' things. Some were banging bongos, others were saying how they came into the world from an acorn and another was reading someone's palm guessing that they liked to have three meals a day. I couldn't stand it and so I went to the internet café to upload my photos and check on the F1 qualifying results. Afterwards I headed for another early night; I wanted to start my new Roman adventure, I wanted get away from the bare chested, acorn tea drinking, 'maan' saying hippies … plus I wanted to get up early tomorrow to tackle this mountain.

Toodle Pip!