12.20.08: Hong Kong

Today we walked...and walked...and walked...and got a pretty good feel for Kowloon and the northern part of Hong Kong Island. Our adventure began with the route between our hotel and the Kowloon Harbor. The area around the harbor (Tsim Tsa Shui) is one of the most touristed in Hing Kong, with its high end shopping malls, expansive view of Hong Kong Island's glittering skyline, and Hollywood-esque star walk, featuring hand prints of Hong Kong's most famous movie stars (and a sweet Bruce Lee statue!)

At some of the upmarket shops, like Dolce & Gabbana, shoppers were actually lined up outside behind velvet ropes, awaiting their turns to spend hard-earned Hong Kong dollars. Oh yeah, it's the last Saturday before Christmas. It makes sense that Christmas shopping is happening here in Hong Kong, with so many expats and the vestiges of British rule. However, we were surprised that, even in the smallest cities we visited, Christmas lights twinkled and English carols pumped over the loudspeakers. We were hoping that this would be one December of our lives unbeseiged by tinsel, but no such luck. The interesting part is that, outside of Hong Kong, there isn't even a pretense of Christmas being a religious holiday. Ammy basically explained it to us as a "shopping holiday" celebrated among young Chinese who are pushing for Westernization.

(The man, the myth, the statue...and Hong Kong Island from Kowloon's harbor)

Anyway, our destination at Kowloon's harbor was the Star Ferry, a short but scenic trip that would take us across to Hong Kong Island. Upon arrival, we walked through a series of overpasses above wide city avenues until we reached the Central-Mid-Level escalators, apparently the longest electric people-movers in the world. If Kowloon is like New York, northern Hong Kong Island is similar to San Francisco, with its dramatic hills and prominent green areas. And San Francisco could definitely benefit from some escalators like these, that ascend story after story of steep, mid-city inclines.

We stepped off the escalator in trendy SoHo (sound familiar?) for lunch at an organic joint called "Life," that could easily find a home in SF's Potrero Hill. This charged us up for the afternoon's excursion--walking back down to Central Hong Kong (The escalators only go up) and jumping onto the historic, high-speed (and highly vertical) tram to the top of Victoria Peak. From this vantage point, we got an awesome bird's eye view of skyscraper-filled downtown Hong Kong and beyond, across the harbor o our home-base of Kowloon and also a glimpse of the lush, green, south side of the island and some of the surrounding isles, like Lantau Island, home of Hong Kong's Disneyland.

(One view from Victoria Peak)

Rather than take the tram, we walked down Victoria Peak along the winding, wooded path that twists down its sides. This was a long but peaceful trip, and we passed other tourists, joggers, and ladies walking full-outfitted poodles wearing ridiculous little poodle sneakers. We continued our way back down to the ferry terminal, and when I say down I really mean it...our walk was strictly vertical for about two hours. We passed through shopping areas, enormously tall apartment complexes, and a lively neighborhood jam-packed with bars and nightclubs before getting back onto the ferry.

Hong Kong Island's skyline was even more impressive at night, with its myriad lights reflecting into the water. Back on the other side, we met up with the other folks from our Intrepid group who were still in town, to watch Hong Kong Island's fame nightly light show from across the harbor. It was actually pretty lame--a series of laser beams shooting out from different buildings, and coming off a little like bad special effects from the original version of Dr. Who--but it was cool that the group voluntarily got together for one last hurrah. Totally sacked from hours of city-trekking, we left the group to sleep it off in anticipation of another adventure-filled day.

12.19.08: Hong Kong/ Kowloon

We arrived in Hong Kong this afternoon. Even though the islands are officially part of China again (and not the UK), we still had to go through customs. This involved filling out departure cards, leaving China, walking 300 meters, filling out arrival cards, and entering Hong Kong. They do love the red tape in these parts!

We are staying in Kowloon, which is across the harbor from Hong Kong Island but still part of HK, kind of like a Manhattan-Brooklyn situation. Speaking of home-sweet-home, Hong Kong so far is very different from the other Chinese cities we've seen, yet very similar to New York's Chinatown...on steroids. We learned that most Chinese who emigrate stateside are actually Cantonese, rather than from mainland China, which helps explain our familiarity with this scene.

(Kowloon at night)

My first impression of Kowloon is all action, all the time--packed with people, shops, and neon lights, lights, lights 24/7. It is a little bit of a shock to the system after mellow Yangshuo.

Our first night in Kowloon was our final night with Ammy and our Intrepid group. We had an adventuresome "last supper" smack in the middle of the bustling Temple Street Night Market. The food was nothing special, but the ambiance was priceless. We sat outside; our table was literally in the street. Diners on the street side of our long table had to scoot their chairs in when big buses drove by. We were surrounded by stalls with vendors hawking their cheap wares, like men's underwear by "Gioven Kelvin," aka Calvin Klein, and the cacophony of shoppers bargaining for those goods filled our ears. After dinner, perusing of those stalls and warm hugs goodbye from our now former travel companions closed out the night.

(Dinner at the Temple Street Night Market)

Tomorrow, off to explore Hong Kong Island!

12.18.08: Yangshuo

Our full day in lovely Yangshuo was one of the best of the trip. We started out with a 15-or-so-mile bike ride through the countryside. Once out of town, the views of the massive, rocky karsts was uninterrupted by buildings. We rode past streams, tiny villages, rice paddies, cows, chickens, bulls, mandarin orange trees, and beautiful views on all sides.

(Along the bike route)

We stopped for lunch at a village farmhouse, where our meal was made of the freshest possible ingredients, as they were grown or raised right there. One of the dishes was a dumpling where the wrapper was like a tiny omelets, and the hens who laid those eggs were clucking around by our feet as we ate. Lunch also included a local specialty, beer fish, which was a whole fish marinated in beer, tomatoes, and onions.

We rode for another few hours after lunch. The trip became somewhat terrifying when we hit some really rocky dirt paths on our fixed gear city bikes--definitely not designed for such terrain. Among our group of 12, we had four spills resulting in small amounts of blood loss. Miraculously, I was not one of them, probably because I rode at the back of the pack at approximately .002 miles per hour.

As wiped out as I was when we rode back into town, I thoroughly enjoyed the chance to become part of that gorgeous landscape and absorb it with all of my senses--smelling the river-tinged air, hearing the cattle moo, saying hello to the women shelling peanuts roadside--rather than just viewing it from a tour bus window.

(Illuminations performers in canoes on the Yi River)

In the evening, Seth and I attended a show called something like "Illuminations" that we were a bit skeptical about because the way it had been described to us sounded very heavy on the cheese factor, enough so that the rest of our group decided to skip it. However, I read that it was created by the director of the film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. That epic brought a new level of artistry to the classic kung fu film, and so my interest was definitely piqued. Fortunately, our investment in curiosity paid off in spades.

The show was nothing short of spectacular. The entire cast included SIX HUNDRED performers, who sang in Mandarin, telling a famous Chinese tale pf unrequited love. The "stage" and seats were outside, and most of the performances occurred directly on the water of the Li River. The night was pitch black, concealing the mechanics of the process, and highly choreographed colored lights were used heavily, so it literally looked like these people were walking, gliding, and dancing on top of the water, and every so often, a beam would dramatically illuminate one of the karst peaks behind the set.

At one point, about 100 single-person canoes rowed out onto the water in ten straight rows, and suddenly the rowers lifted ribbons of bright red fabric out of the water and moved them up and down in succession, so it looked like waves of brilliant red were ripping through the night sky. There were several such dramatic, visual stunts, which are really hard to describe, but suffice it to say that the show was a one-of-a-kind theatrical feat and if you ever find yourself in Guanxi Province, I highly recommend it!

(Yangshuo Farmer's Market)

We spent the next day lazily wandering around Yangshuo, killing time before our final overnight train to Hong Kong. The highlight of this excursion was the football-field-sized farmer's market in the center of town that was positively bursting with colors and activity. Some sights were tough to take. For instance, they really do use every part of the pig, so individual tails and testicles were readily available. And I'll spare you the stomach-churning details, but let's just say that the whole "They eat dogs in China" thing is not just a rumor.

That being said, the farmer's market also featured stall after stall of squatting farmers with exquisitely wrinkled faces selling the most incredible produce you've ever seen: carrots the size of cucumbers, cucumbers the size of eggplants, freshly made tofu, foot-long cinnamon sticks that you couldn't fit a child's hand around, Chinese broccoli with little yellow flowers at the top, chili peppers galore and a zillion varieties of mushrooms!

We also enjoyed souvenir shopping along the touristy, bar-and-restaurant-lined West Street and in junk stalls along the Li River. All in all, our time in Yangshuo was a real pleasure and now we're off to our final destination in China!

12.17.08: YANGSHUO

Our trip is quickly being redeemed in the friendly and colorful town of Yangshuo. We arrived before sunrise from our overnight train ride and cleaned up a bit, and then sauntered out for a morning look around. It's a small, pretty town with Westerners aplenty (There are several English language schools here) so it was easy to feel comfortable walking down its stone-paved streets.

And then we looked up. Wow. The entire town is surrounded by these incredible geological formations called karsts, which are apparently limestone remainders of a prehistoric, volcanic era. Each one looks like its own mini-mountain, about 30-50 stories high, streaked with black and tan and topped with trees. This region has the largest collection of such features in the world. Ammy told us there are about 1,000 in the area, so wherever you look these impressive mounds are rising up in the background. It is really cool!

(Morning at the Li River)

We walked to the Li River at the edge of town, where the rock formations go on as far as the eye can see. It was a pretty romantic scene--the river and karsts; old women sitting under tall, fluffy bamboo grasses, eating oranges and playing cards; young women doing laundry in the river; bamboo rafts floating by, taking children to school. Thankfully, it was a far way removed from our nasty boat ride a couple of days earlier.

Our group met us for a small orientation and lunch (at Minnie Mao's Cafe--ugh! The puns!). We sat outside in the sun. It was the first time we could expose some skin to the rays this trip, and it was fabulous. Warm, comfortable, and well-fed, we were ready to enjoy a couple of days in Yangshuo.

12.15.08: Yangtze/Yishan

We spent much of the next day on another, smaller boat, exploring China's Three Gorges. I suppose they were beautiful--one of them is depicted on the ten-yuan note--but honestly, my head and the sky were both so foggy that nothing much registered with me.

the second night on the boat wasn't as bad as the first, with the help of earplugs, Tylenol PM, and extra blankets. Our meal was tolerable, too, thanks to our local guide, Harry, requesting more vegetables and less "meat" on our behalves. Harry, by the way, is one of the craziest characters we've met so far, sort of like a Chinese leprechaun with dyed red hair, who responds with a hyena's laugh and "sank you very much" to just about every inquiry.

Before bed, our group tried to make the most of being on the boat with beer, wine, mah jongg lessons (surrounded by a crowd of curious Chinese passengers) and having Ammy read our palms and fortune cards. Looks like Seth and I are in for a happy, life-long marriage. Good stuff!

We gratefully disembarked on the third day, and moved on to the ultimate destination of our river journey, the Three Gorges Dam Project. This ambitious undertaking is the largest dam int he world, built over the last ten years or so and meant to supply about 10% of China's power through hydroelectricity. I wasn't particularly interested in the first place, to be honest, but the civic engineers on our trip (there are two) were sorely disappointed, as we were given very limited access to the project and could only view it from a distance. Nor surprisingly, our local guide was unable or unwilling to answer any of their more controversial questions, like what happens to all the toxic waste and garbage in the river once the dam causes it to stop producing oxygen and become stagnant.

(Thank goodness for our Intrepid group: Oliver, Korina, Joan, Clare, Ross, Li, David, me, Seth, Sarah, Ruth and Amy)

We stayed the night in Yichang, which was apparently a small country town until about five years ago, when a dam-related development boom began. Now, there are plenty of wide streets, modern buildings, and construction sites everywhere you turn. We ate a delicious group dinner (exotic mushroom soup, marinated beef strips, crunchy lotus root, spicy tofu, chicken with greens, pumpkin with dates...) which almost made up for the rank slop served on the boat.

I will mention that one of the high points of our last few less-than-stellar days has been spending time with our group. We are really lucky because everyone is pretty friendly and caring and can roll with the punches. Joan, our buddy from the Great Wall, has sort of taken on the role of group Mum, due partly to the fact that her own kids are the same age as half of the young'ns on this trip. She also, however, has a biting wit that, spoken in her thick Scottish brogue, can crack up the whole group at tenser moments. The English Clare, a teacher-cum hotel manager-cum civic engineer is as sweet as sugar with sparkly blue eyes. She seems to laugh at the same Chines absurdities that I do, so that's been fun. Ross and Amy, also Brits and recently graduated art and fashion students, respectively, are quieter but absolutely hilarious, especially when Ross gets going with his faux-American frat boy impressions. They are at the beginning of a six-month trip all around Asia and India. Ruth, our sole Austrian, breaks the stereotypes of a stern and serious German-speaker with her sunshine smile and great attitude. The other five--David, Li, Sarah and Oliver from Australia and Corina from New Zealand are great, too.

We are now on a five-hour bus ride to an overnight train to Yangshuo, entering the third portion of our trip. The first ten days were amazing but the last few I could have lived without. I hope that the final part tops them all.

12.12.08: Chonqing/Yangtze River

Every trip has its low points, and after many highlights, I think we've hit ours. On the insane chicken/duck bus ride I mentioned a few entries ago, we were told that the five-star cruise that we were supposed to take down the Yangtze River (usually a highlight of this itinerary) stopped running in winter, and we would be taking a "regular" Chinese boat. That also meant that we would be spending the first night in Chonqing rather than on board. We arrived in Chonqing to discover that it is a filthy, putrid, stinkhole of a city, with brown smog so thick that it makes L.A. look like a Fresh Air Fund destination.

We wasted a day there, only to be sorely disappointed in thinking that we might find some relief once we got on our boat, another 3.5 hour bus ride away.

The boat literally looked like a giant, floating tin can. Our "first class" cabin smelled like a mixture of piss and cigarettes, due in part to the fact that the toilet in our room is just a porcelain hole in the ground akin to a really bad port-a-potty with no seat. By the way, you have to stand over said hole to shower. The sheets were filthy and the drawers below our bed (which is a series of wooden slats covered by a 1/2 inch piece of foam) were filled with RAT TURDS. By the way, the heater didn't work. Did I mention it's winter?

(Our floating home away from home)

Upon arrival, our local guide told us to keep the windows locked at night because if we docked, people from local villages might try to sneak in. GREAT. I spent the first night shivering, shifting from side to side, trying not to breathe through my nose, holding in my pee, and worrying that rats would crawl out from under my bed or a Chinese pirate would swoop in through the window.

You'd think at least we could escape our rooms for a more pleasant, public area of the boat. Yeah, not so much. Our highly unappetizing dinner the first night was served in a dining room that we shared with a large table of rowdy Chinese men playing a drinking game with some crazy, 60% alcohol rice wine. Our food was nothing short of revolting, with one dish resembling a cess pool. Seth swore a hand of the undead was going to rise out of it. To make matters worse, the men frequently made big productions out of clearing their throats and hocking big lugies right onto the carpet. It's one thing to spit on the street, which the Chinese do constantly, but nothing will curb my appetite like a green wad of phlegm landing next to my foot while I'm trying to eat dinner. Ewwwwwwwwwwww!

12.11.08: Emei Shan

In the morning, we made our way back down Emei Shan, this time taking a more leisurely pace and getting to fully appreciate the glorious jade jungle, incredibly fresh air, and waterfalls.

We stopped for breakfast at the cleverly named Hard Wok Cafe about 1/4 way down the 1,200 steps. We had also eaten there the night before, as the curious establishment was the only restaurant for miles. It was a strangle little place, perched on a stone platform, under a tent, in the middle of the jungle. All of their supplies had to be schlepped through the woods and up all those stairs each day. Needless to say, the sweet couple who ran the place were glad for our low-season patronage.

(The kitchen at Hard Wok Cafe)

When we reached the end of our walk (It felt more like a walk than a hike on the way down), we headed back to the Bao Guo monastery and prepared for a well-deserved treat: a trip to the local hot springs.

The hot springs were run by a 5-star hotel, and the facilities were gorgeous. The super hot, clean, high-pressured shower--my first decent bathing experience in almost two weeks--was worth the entrance fee alone. The main area consisted of a dry sauna, swimming pool, a vat of little fishies meant to nibble away your dead skin, and about 15 small hot tubs of varying temperatures and conditions. (One, for example, was meant to be good for your liver.) Half of the tubs were outside along s wooden boardwalk, and we spent most of the afternoon in an especially hot stone pool, with a little waterfall running into it, overlooking a pretty pond. Not sure whether it was the gurgling water I heard, or our aching muscles whispering, "Thank you, thank you," but either way, the hot springs were the icing on the cake of a beautiful couple days.

12.10.08: Emei Shan

Our poor night's sleep at the monastery was especially unfortunate since the following day would be our longest and most physically challenging of the trip. The payoff, however, is that it was also the most breathtakingly beautiful and magical, taking us through landscapes that looked like living versions of ancient Chinese paintings. I honestly don't think I can do justice with the written word to the beauty that surrounded us during our mountain trek, but I will try.

We began at the crack of dawn on a bus, which took us through thick fog to a cable car, which carried us to an even higher destination where we began hiking and then suddenly, lo and behold, we were literally above the clouds. All around us was a carpet of white, from which mountain peaks rose. Up ahead was a palatial stone staircase lined with porcelain elephant statues, leading to a large golden statue of a multi-headed Buddha riding atop four elephants, shining brilliantly against a cloudless, cerulean sky. It was so otherworldly, I really wasn't sure whether we were in heaven or on earth.

(Above the clouds on Emei Shan)

We took the cable car and bus down again, and then had a bit of lunch and took another short bus ride. That's when the real adventure began! In the lower part of Mt. Emei, we embarked on a hike into the most beautiful forest I have ever seen. It was so green and lush and damp, it felt more like a rainforest or jungle. Every so often, out of the mist would rise an arched stone bridge or pagoda. It was hard to believe that we were not walking through a movie set, and that at any moment a kung fu master wasn't going to fly down from some treetop and drop and ancient pearl of wisdom on us to help us save the princess.

(All those brown dots are monkeys!)

We trod for an hour or so on flat ground alongside a river, and then we began going up, up, upward sloping paths and stairs. We had borrowed walking sticks from the monastery and they ended up coming in very handy, both for the inclines and to scare off...wait for it...MONKEYS! Yup, I said monkeys. One one part of the climb in particular there were monkeys everywhere, on the path next to us, in the trees below us, and on the rocks above us, ready to pounce. I'm not talking cute, little Curious George guys; more like big, ugly, babboon-ish things with sharp teeth! And dudes were hungry! We saw one grab a woman's Gatorade out of her bag, tear open the bottle, and lap up the drink. Seriously! It was exhilarating and the baby monkeys were pretty darned cute, but we definitely weren't in Kansas anymore.

At last, after a few hours, we reached the last leg of our journey. In this case, it was quite literal, as our final descent up to the monastery where we would be staying consisted of 1,200 stone steps. I honestly don't know how I made it. Ammy estimated that from the beginning of the day we probably climbed about 5,000 steps, and getting to the top of that last impossible set felt like a real accomplishment, which I was sure to appreciate after I fell down dead.