Into the Middle Kingdom

At 6am an American yelled to me from across the Udomaxai bus station "Hey! Do you speak English?" Without a chance to answer, he began telling me that I need to get a seat at the back as "these Chinese, they'll spit, cough and darn-near vomit all over you if you give them half a chance..." and so began an international bus trip, from Lao crossing over into China. We were also joined by a young Bavarian couple, Wanda and Jonas, who shared the journey up to the depressing city of Mengla then, on leaving the bus decided to join forces in search of a place to stay for the night. The American went in search of a McDonald's. His life story is one I don't have space to retell here.

Money was an issue, US$50 was all I had and this corner of China was yet to recognise a Visa card so we fell into the debt of Jonas who paid for our overnight bus tickets to Kunming, the capital of Yunnan Province. We seemed to get along with the other couple (they politely laughed at my jokes while exchanging concerned glances) and we shared a room when we reached our destination. "The Hump" was a very comfortable and busy hostel in a youthful University town which provided an easy few days rest before we headed deeper into the Middle Kingdom.




The ladies stretch after 17 hrs on a throat-clearing, chain-smoking, sleeper bus marathon.

I had a shave and did my best to emulate Jonas' EuroMo - grown naturally rather than my own groomed effort.

We were recommended a bar near the Uni that had a good mix of locals and visitors. As well as enjoying one of China's coldest, there was a large group of B Boys, who consistently out did each others dance moves. There was something not quite right about the whole place but it was very entertaining.

The four of us decided to continue together and chose to make a mad dash for the Tibetan border in far-Western Yunnan. We stopped overnight in both the old cities of Dali and then Litang en route to the o'night hike at Tiger Leaping Gorge. After three days travel, we reached the Northern end of TLG, getting off the local bus in the pouring rain, only to be stopped by a stern but bored looking law enforcement officer who let us know (using a freshly printed page in English) that the TLG walk was closed. There had been heavy rain and landslides overnight resulting in two deaths. We were sad to miss out on a trek I had looked forward to but thankful that we hadn't been caught in the storm. After warming up with a pot of ginger and lemon tea we started to wonder about the two lives lost - nobody knew much more than the number.

That night we continued to Shangri la, having shared a 'Taxi' with some other travellers. All the prices in the LP had been royally inflated since publication so we sought alternatives. We happened upon a shack of a cafe with a few beds in the rooms above. The place ended up being one of the highlights as the dinners we had were served around a stove with a pot of water continually on the boil for our tea. We were up above 3000m at this stage and the air was disturbingly thin and cold so the stove became somewhere we loved to sit. The picture above is in another cafe in town where bottomless tea cups ensured we hung around, reading and watching the minorities bustle about the icy outside.

Local entrepreneurs had discovered that many Westerner would arrive up here finding it much colder than expected so "The North Face" copies were available in every third shop. The trio poses just below a 600 monk monastary in Shangrila.

Tibetan interior design was found in monasteries and the occasional hostel. This was very monastic in layout. I had to stop Jonas chanting late into the night.

The local bus that we borded at 6am the next morning revealed this landscape when the sunlight finally arrived. Nomadic yak farmers and frozen creeks were all that decorated the otherwise bleak landscape.

We stopped just below the snow line to have a stretch and a laugh at what was quite a contrast to the Lao heatwave we'd experienced the week before. Our bags were much lighter as we were wearing every layer we had brought. The bus had reached an altitude of 5800m on this pass.

Altitude sickness began to creep over me in the town of Litang (4200m) where the bus dropped us not long after the above photo. We stayed for only one night having been fascinated by the authenticity of the rarely visited outpost. Traditional Tibetan dress, welders making gates on the footpath next to matress makers next to noodle shops, yaks in the street, a warmth and genuine interest different to that of the Chinese we had met so far and an active sky burial site made this a special town. (*I have many photos from Jonas of this town that will appear in the next post - technical difficulties here in the middle east...)

We visited the biggest (sitting) Budha in Leshan where we also re entered the land of the biggest crowds.

In Chengdu, like everywhere, we ate out in many "I'll have what he's having" restaurants. Here, the girls lead the way home to the Loft after another pork surprise.

Chengdu happened to be hosting the Women's World Cup. This photo was a scene where the old China can be seen to still loom large over the rapid world focus it's receiving.

Chengdu is also home to a Panda Research Facility (Eng. = Zoo) Lisa and I made it for feeding time and I snapped this one after he'd had his fill. I got the feeling he might have held out a WWF bucket and asked for money at any stage.

The four of us shared our first sleeper train from Chengdu to Xi'an. We weren't alone though, I read that an estimated 10M Chinese are on a train at any givn time. The ride was comfortable enough and instant noodles and cold beer at every stop meant we didn't quite starve.

Lisa took this shot from the third bunk. I'm enjoying a 'phrasebook' chat with our neighbours and I've just found the 'no more beer' line but they're just getting started.

We made it to Xi'an and the Teracotta Warriors, amazing, beautiful and awesome - but why? And then he killed all the craftsmen in case they told anybody where it was... bizarre.

At the beginning of our fourth week together, we headed in different directions. The Germans north to Beijing and we turned south with a few days to get to the coast to celebrate our first wedding anniversary. After having enjoyed each other's company, surviving the drama that is independent travel in Western China, they set off, promising that we'll cross paths again. It is a good measure of friendship to want to see people again rather than being happy to be rid of them. We were to see them again sooner than we had expected.

Lao Lao

By the time we had exited and entered, handing over fistfuls of USD, we weren't in any mood to get on a bus north for another few hours, so Vientiane became our home for a few days. It proved to be a very relaxing capital to visit, with my introduction to Laos being just as Lisa had suggested - they're happy, honest, very polite and always smiling. A fancy meal in a French restaurant (Laos had been under the French) and a couple of bike rides along the Mekong, and we headed north to Vang Vieng, staying at a guesthouse on the far side of the river. We had to pay the 20c toll every time we crossed the bridge, though it was a nice bridge! Lisa remembered there being no bridge but tractors towing groups across last time round (I heard a lot about the last time round, but I'll bore her back in China).

The ubiquitous backpacker activity in this town is to hire a tire tube and float down the river, stopping at bars selling $1 beers and baguettes, with ropes to swing off into the river. Safety plus! It was quite spectacular spending the afternoon using my thongs as paddles, floating amongst dramatic limestone cliffs and more rice paddies. By this stage, we had befriended a couple, Matthew and Milja (Welsh/Finnish) who kept us company sharing meals, taxis and beers. They took their camera down the river but we forgot to copy the photos, so our photos start after they got moving (on a 48hr bus ride to Vietnam!) Here's what I did record:

Every morning, a group of kids would play/bathe in the creek in front of our bungalow. Lisa decided to join them which only increased the splashing and laughter.

More rice paddies and limestone cliffs. To the south of our bungalow was a series of caves, cliffs and creeks. We rode out to a spot dubbed the 'Blue Lagoon' and swam the afternoon away. Caving itself was a little dicey, I got more grip barefoot, so we didn't venture too deep. Notice also my efforts to keep the sun off me as the malaria tablets I'm enjoying make the skin extra sun sensitive. Lisa gets her scarf back when we re-enter public areas and I eventually bought a new hat to replace the one I'd annoyingly left on a bus in Thailand.

Floating backwards down the Blue Lagoon. (It's much bluer when the sun is out). After a week of lazing about Vang Vieng, it was time. So we boarded a bus whose driver seemed to be running late for a very important meeting and wound our way up into the mountains towards Luang Prabang, a bit of a bakery Mecca - one very positive reminder of the French.

Late one night, I talked Lisa into hiring mountain bikes with me. Not an easy feat. We headed out of town in the morning, being passed by luxurious tour buses, towards one of the many pay-per-view waterfall sites in the area.

Having rained a little, the falls were very much churned up, making a hell of a racket.

Here, in an attempt to smile as instructed, you might see a little hut behind me. Young Lao lovers shared picnics where they would have no chance clearly exchanging pleasantries, or keeping their baguettes dry.

Back in town, Lisa stopped at one of our favourite money-spending opportunities. This bloke made nothing but caramelised bananas wrapped in fresh crepes with a drizzle of condensed milk, all done with plenty of pizazz - for about 60c a pop.

More online escapism, I'll spare you the jokes about the

others searching for Nirvana.

We got up to see the Monks silently collect their food for the day. Each has a silver pot into which peolple put food! Long lines of Monks from different Monastaries walked passed us for the first hour of light as we sat in wonder at their lifetyle.

The view from Wat Pa Huak at the centre of Luang Prabang. As we wandered about the grounds, Novice Monks were working in teams to clean different shrines. The Monastery scene increasingly reminds me of a boys school camp.

We headed north and stopped in Nong Khiaw, a quiet town on the Mekong River. We stayed right on the water for about $3 a night. Here is what you get for your cash:

Private bathroom: Bath on the left, multi-purpose drain in the middle and a

handy blue bucket on the right.

Chickens everywhere, and roosters who wanted people awake all day.

This was down the street from our 'resort', dogs mysteriously left the chickens alone, though not each other.

Pet monkeys were a local favourite.

Lisa loved watching little boys poke them through the cage doors.

This advertisement caught my eye, so I applied. I prepared a three part lesson about the menu, reception and showing off rooms. My class of five adults listened attentively though I'm not sure how much they absorbed. I left them my notes which I was glad to see them refer to when we returned later for dinner. It was a very nice place if ever you're up there and can afford the US$22 tariff.

Corn was left to dry on the bridge outside our bungalow every day,

the colour was quite intense against the concrete.

Out walking along the Mekong. The glare on the photo might give some idea about how hot it was. We made our way up the hill to a creek where the water was less 'brown' to bathe and local washer women were, well, washing.

Like the monkeys, little boys loved to taunt the water buffalo,

animals whose horns and volume worried me.

Here we sat, waiting for our bus at the Nong Khiaw Bakery, our eatery of choice. The fog in the background rose every morning for another hot day. We arrived in Udomxai that night and chose not t0 stand on another crowded, dusty, bus with wheels nuts missing to Luang Nam Tha, which was lucky as we wouldn't have met Wanda and Jonas, a Bavarian couple who we chatted with on the bus over the border the next morning into China...