First off, I just want to say fuck is it cold in Beijing. Apparently just before I got there it was snowing.
Also, I have learnt the art to navigating a Chinese city; KFC. When asked for directions everyone will navigate via KFC's. That's not an acronym for something else in China. It means exactly what you think it means. Kentucky Fried Chicken. You want to go down the street and turn left at the KFC. Then keep going until you see the KFC. Then you'll walk down some stairs and there'll be a KFC. now I'm not sure whether they just assume that since I'm white I'm drawn to fast food stores like a fucking compass pointing magnetic north or if every citizen of China is being paid off by KFC to act as a walking advertisement, but it's pretty damn eerie.
So anyway. In Beijing I decided to stay at a guesthouse recommended to me by some woman I met at an airport in India. It's an old fashioned building that the Emperor used as a secondary home back in the day complete with secret underground passageway into the Forbidden City (blocked off nowadays unfortunately). That's right. I stayed in the Emperor's summer home.
And it is here I made my second failed attempt to find a kung fu teaher in China. You'd think Beijing would be full of them right? Well you'd be correct actually. The problem is that every one I go to check out is shut down. Balls.
Still, at least I got to see the beijing opera so I can feel cultured. Though I can't vouch for the quality of the performance (There were shadow puppets and cancers and musicians and a guy balancing a candle or something. I didn't quite understand it all but it was entertaining to my puny foreign brain) the tea was nice. But weak. Always weak.
The next day I decided to head to the parks early morning to train and found a bunch of pensioners had beaten me to it marking their turf. (In China street gangs have a minimum age limit of sixty). Deciding I wouldn't be intimidated by their swords and flashy tracksuits I got to the business of training and after an hour of being gawked at decided to take a look at what the others were doing. I met one fellow practising Ba Gua but most of the others were performing some variation of Yang style Tai Chi, including a number of sword forms. In the centre one man was teaching a technique I recognised as Tai Chi push, only with the strike replaced with twin Phoenix Eyes to the chest.
The rest of the day I decided to pay a visit to the Forbidden City and a couple of Daoist temples in the area. All of which was very enlightening and atmospheric thanks to an automatic guide in one ear and my MP3 player pumping out some bangin' traditional Chinese choons in the other.
And on the third day I visited the Great Wall and took loads of pictures. The end. (I took a hike up the old unrestored part of the wall with an old lady as a guide who despite being my Gran's age was able to outpace us all on the walk up through the hills.
Also of note was that my jeans finally gave in on me after accompanying me half way around the globe, forcing me to replace them on a trip down the Silk Market, where I purchased a range of snazzy new threads including some 'authentic diesel jeans'. Normally I'd not have bothered but apparently the Chinese have laws about walking around with your cock hanging out of your trousers?
I just have to remember that every culture has its taboos.
Sunday, 12 September 2010
Fuck yeah! Train journey!
An overnight sleeper train saves me one night's accomodation and more than half a day's travel to Xi'an. Finally I arrive at the city. My goal: To see the motherfucking Terracotta Warriors. If I can get them to come to life and serve me like in the third Mummy movie then all the better.
That was a documentary right?
Arriving in Xi'an I set about securing my hasty escape from the city thanks to the help of a Chinese student in the line next to me who explains to the woman at the ticket office that I want to go to Beijing tonight. And in one fell swoop the Chinese overtake the entirity of Europe in my estimation.
A quick bus ride and I'm at the museum where I'm able to pick up a tour guide to explain it all to me on the way around.
The Terracotta warriors themselves are pretty amazing to see. Even moreso when you realise that for the close to 9'000 odd soldiers they've already uncovered, they believe there are still more to come, buried in the area somewhere.
Most of the statues themselves are in remarkable shape and many others have been rebuilt from the remains found in the excavation area. Though obviously not every one of them is that lucky. Some poor bastards have to spend the rest of eternity missing an arm or a leg or a piece of their head. All the while the other soldiers probably act all nervous trying not to offend the 'guy with no back'. They probably even invite him out for drinks even though sitting there talking to a guy with a hole for a face can get pretty awkward.
You even get a chance to meet the old guy who first found the soldiers (A limited time offer I imagine. The old fella's getting on a bit). I declined to buy any of the tourist tat, because I've been saving space for my next destination...
That was a documentary right?
Arriving in Xi'an I set about securing my hasty escape from the city thanks to the help of a Chinese student in the line next to me who explains to the woman at the ticket office that I want to go to Beijing tonight. And in one fell swoop the Chinese overtake the entirity of Europe in my estimation.
A quick bus ride and I'm at the museum where I'm able to pick up a tour guide to explain it all to me on the way around.
The Terracotta warriors themselves are pretty amazing to see. Even moreso when you realise that for the close to 9'000 odd soldiers they've already uncovered, they believe there are still more to come, buried in the area somewhere.
Most of the statues themselves are in remarkable shape and many others have been rebuilt from the remains found in the excavation area. Though obviously not every one of them is that lucky. Some poor bastards have to spend the rest of eternity missing an arm or a leg or a piece of their head. All the while the other soldiers probably act all nervous trying not to offend the 'guy with no back'. They probably even invite him out for drinks even though sitting there talking to a guy with a hole for a face can get pretty awkward.
You even get a chance to meet the old guy who first found the soldiers (A limited time offer I imagine. The old fella's getting on a bit). I declined to buy any of the tourist tat, because I've been saving space for my next destination...
Guy Shrigley and the meat of indeterminate origin
I ate something today. But I am not sure what.
It was a meat. But not one with which I am familiar.
The taste was bland, like overcooked lamb, though they tried to disguise this fact by drowning the entire meal in barbecue sauce. The texture, and I believe this to be the key to decyphering the nature of my meal, was at once stringy aand tough, yet rubbery. I felt on the whole rather conned by the experience, which was by all accounts a convincingly and elaborately orchestrated con. Because you see, I, like so many people upon seeing chunks of meat in sauce expect that those chunks will infact be largely meat based rather than cartiledge or bone.
Welcome to China.
It was a meat. But not one with which I am familiar.
The taste was bland, like overcooked lamb, though they tried to disguise this fact by drowning the entire meal in barbecue sauce. The texture, and I believe this to be the key to decyphering the nature of my meal, was at once stringy aand tough, yet rubbery. I felt on the whole rather conned by the experience, which was by all accounts a convincingly and elaborately orchestrated con. Because you see, I, like so many people upon seeing chunks of meat in sauce expect that those chunks will infact be largely meat based rather than cartiledge or bone.
Welcome to China.
Chengdu and the MOTHERFUCKING PANDA SANCTUARY!
After a spectacularly bad tip that Mt Emei might contain some people for me to punch/learn how to punch other people harder from I decided to wind down by taking a trip to see some Pandas at the Jackie Chan approved Panda Sanctuary.
Slightly tempering my enjoyment of the trip was the fact that I was suffering from swine flu. Now whether this particular bout was the same one that had me taking a malaria test in Bangkok or not it was pretty fucking bad. There has been some suggestion since then that it might possibly. POSSIBLY have had something to do with me climbing Mt Emei in naught but a t-shirt.
In any case I made it to the sanctuary where I had the pleaasure of watching fat hairy animals do nothing but eat and sleep. All of a sudden I was overcome with a strange sense of self consciousness and deja vu. Like some sort of out of body experience.
Now it has been said many times about Pandas, but I feel the need to reiterate. This is an animal that is trying it's fucking hardest to not survive. It is a creature whose diet requires it to eat around 10% of its bodyweight in food daily just to survive. This is because it has adapted to eating food which is patently unfit for supporting life. It is a creature that, despite that aforementioned diet can muster barely enough energy to waddle from its den to the feeding area. And like an obese white nerd they mate so rarely that it's considered an achievement for them to do so.
Let me reiterate: They can't even be bothered to have sex! If ever there was a creature that is actively working towards extinction it it the panda. And yet we continue to spend money and Jackie Chan's time on keeping them alive so that they can eat, sleep and not have sex. They probably play World of Warcraft all day when we're not looking too.
Pandas: Living the dream.
Slightly tempering my enjoyment of the trip was the fact that I was suffering from swine flu. Now whether this particular bout was the same one that had me taking a malaria test in Bangkok or not it was pretty fucking bad. There has been some suggestion since then that it might possibly. POSSIBLY have had something to do with me climbing Mt Emei in naught but a t-shirt.
In any case I made it to the sanctuary where I had the pleaasure of watching fat hairy animals do nothing but eat and sleep. All of a sudden I was overcome with a strange sense of self consciousness and deja vu. Like some sort of out of body experience.
Now it has been said many times about Pandas, but I feel the need to reiterate. This is an animal that is trying it's fucking hardest to not survive. It is a creature whose diet requires it to eat around 10% of its bodyweight in food daily just to survive. This is because it has adapted to eating food which is patently unfit for supporting life. It is a creature that, despite that aforementioned diet can muster barely enough energy to waddle from its den to the feeding area. And like an obese white nerd they mate so rarely that it's considered an achievement for them to do so.
Let me reiterate: They can't even be bothered to have sex! If ever there was a creature that is actively working towards extinction it it the panda. And yet we continue to spend money and Jackie Chan's time on keeping them alive so that they can eat, sleep and not have sex. They probably play World of Warcraft all day when we're not looking too.
Pandas: Living the dream.
9 months later (or; about fucking time you lazy git)
So where was I? Ah, that's right. Mt Emei and Chengdu and all of a sudden holy shit it's been 9 months since I updated.
But no one actually reads this, so who cares.
There's been a lot going on in the last 9 months and I'll try to get the interesting bits down, but bear with me. It's a long haul.
But no one actually reads this, so who cares.
There's been a lot going on in the last 9 months and I'll try to get the interesting bits down, but bear with me. It's a long haul.
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Day trip to mount Emei takes forever. Is worth it.
A 'Day trip' to Mount Emei from Chengdu, as suggeted in the Lonely Planet guide will leave you with approximately one hour, perhaps two if you're lucky to acutally visit the mountain itself. First you need to take a long ass bus ride to the mountain, then another bus ride up the mountain. Then. THEN you need to take a fucking cable car to the top.
And if you want to get back to Chengdu you need to get back to the busstop by 4pm. What kind of bloody bus depo closes at 4? Fuck you China. Fuck you.
But once there the view is more than worth it. The mountaintop itself is high above cloudcover, which is pretty surreal to see.
Also, its like -3 degrees. And I went up in a fucking T-shirt. Because I'm hard.
And if you want to get back to Chengdu you need to get back to the busstop by 4pm. What kind of bloody bus depo closes at 4? Fuck you China. Fuck you.
But once there the view is more than worth it. The mountaintop itself is high above cloudcover, which is pretty surreal to see.
Also, its like -3 degrees. And I went up in a fucking T-shirt. Because I'm hard.
You sir are a cunt
There are some people who, when you first meet them impress you with their ability to repulse and annoy. Such aggravating individuals don't appear often but when they do they strike with such forceful cuntishness that even the most calm among us can barely restrain our urge to cause them severe bodily harm.
I was lucky enough to meet such a man. I forget his name, mainly because I could barely hear it over the grinding of my own teeth. I knew instantly that I was going to find him disagreeable when he, in the typically droning voice of a stoned pseudointellectul described himself as a 'professor of travel'.
Nevertheless I attempted to strike up polite conversation. If only because I was enjoying a meal at the time this man, whom I shall dub sir Fuckston, decided to approach me. Fuckston it seemed really loves the shit out of Laos, the country we were in at the time. And being such a well travelled individual that I, a mere 'tourist' should bow down before him and his wisdom. He then proceeded to disparage everything about me, from my appearance to my choice of destination. Why go to China, he asked, when it hasbecome so 'globalised' and 'lost its charm'? After all, hehad been there 'in the eighties. Back when China was still China.' It was at this point that I felt something pop in my brain and I was forced to excuse myself before I killed him with a spoon.
I regret my decision. That such a person still lives is a blemish on this world.
I was lucky enough to meet such a man. I forget his name, mainly because I could barely hear it over the grinding of my own teeth. I knew instantly that I was going to find him disagreeable when he, in the typically droning voice of a stoned pseudointellectul described himself as a 'professor of travel'.
Nevertheless I attempted to strike up polite conversation. If only because I was enjoying a meal at the time this man, whom I shall dub sir Fuckston, decided to approach me. Fuckston it seemed really loves the shit out of Laos, the country we were in at the time. And being such a well travelled individual that I, a mere 'tourist' should bow down before him and his wisdom. He then proceeded to disparage everything about me, from my appearance to my choice of destination. Why go to China, he asked, when it hasbecome so 'globalised' and 'lost its charm'? After all, hehad been there 'in the eighties. Back when China was still China.' It was at this point that I felt something pop in my brain and I was forced to excuse myself before I killed him with a spoon.
I regret my decision. That such a person still lives is a blemish on this world.
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