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.