The Free Market Sucker-Punch

It was a game that I had played many times since moving to Beijing, and one that I knew would be played out again today.  The aim of the game for me seems simple – track down a particular recipe ingredient that, while not part of the usual Chinese fare, isn't exactly a rarity in most supermarkets in the west.  My opponent was none other than the Beijing food market – a crafty foe who has taken down many past contenders simply by wearing them down and forcing them to throw the towel in through sheer exhaustion.  In the war of attrition that is western grocery shopping in modern Beijing, the need to visit 4 or 5 different supermarkets to get a list of 10 ingredients is a well-known pain in the arse (whereas you can probably buy a 10kg of MSG from your tailor).  Adding to this is the unstable nature of the local western supermarket supply lines – just because you saw a shop selling something last week, doesn’t mean they are going to be selling it next week.  In a model reminiscent of “whatever falls off the back of the truck”, it’s less menu planning and more pot luck.

The foodstuff Quidditch snitch I was chasing this time around were a couple of smoked trout.  In Oz we don’t need to go too far to find these – Australian’s uptake of these ‘gourmet foods’ that go well with wine ensure that sellers are a dime a dozen at the local Canberra plaza.  BUT transfer this to Beijing, where smoked trout is but one of many supposed foreign foods vying for shelf space in shops wanting to cater to all expats, and it was always going to be a hard slog to source.  So with the list of all local foreign shops in my mind and a route marked out with the precision of a mountain biking rogaine race plan I headed off to my first (and hopefully last) stop – a local market with a few foreign food stands and seafood mongers. After coming up empty handed at the deli I bit the bullet and approached one fish store to ask if they had trout, only to have the store owner grab his net and pull out a 3kg live version from a filthy fish tank behind him.  It was about as fresh as I was going to get (notwithstanding the opaque colour of the water), but the only smoke that this fella was getting was from the cigarette still hanging out of the store owner’s mouth.

So t'was back on the bike, and off to the supermarket below our old apartment block where I found smoked salmon, smoked spiced mackerel fillets, smoked cheese, smoked tofu and lots of Chinese smokes but not smoked rainbow. Ahh, fuck it!  The smoked herring fillets that Amy had bought yesterday as an ingredient backstop were looking inviting, especially as the afternoon wore on and the temperature headed back down to the minuses.

BUT NO GODDAMIT!  Beijing’s painfully dispersed, inefficient and hark-back-to-the-pre-open-door-policy-shopping-experience (where ex-pats could only get foreign goods at the Government-run ‘Friendship Store’, which was incidentally closed to Chinese nationals) was NOT going to get the better of me.  And as luck (or determination) would have it - HURRAH!  My next stop on my shopping tour of Chaoyang District hit pay-dirt, as (and I say this in my best David Attenborough voice) "I spotted the rare smoked trout in its natural habitat - a cold display cabinet".  I was bathing in retail success – the glory of having beaten the odds and finding all groceries I needed rather than waving the white flag and settling for Holy Mackerel (or take-away) instead.  2hrs for two smoked trout.

But like many times before when I’ve played this game I took my eye off my opponent lying on the canvas, thinking that the knockout was in the bag.  And again, one last dash of determination from my opponent and I was face-to-face with her sucker punch of exorbitant prices that left a sour taste in my mouth as bitter as any blood from a real last minute connecting uppercut (AU$45 for two trout – WTF?).  It’s that snide remark from a losing opposition that spoils your celebration.  It’s the painful leg sweep (which although illegal and caused his opponent to be disqualified) that put The Karate Kid out of finals contention in the All-Valley Karate Championships, even though he went on to win.   It’s one annoying part of Beijing I won’t miss.

The Amazing Beijing Adventure Race

The Mental Game
A mate and I had discussed it for a number of months, as an idea for a different kind of birthday party to celebrate him getting one year older and wiser.  There would be no candle and cake this year, but rather an Adventure Race (of sorts) around Beijing that would take in a number of well-known and not so well-known tourist sites, some of his personal favourite spots, and places that could be classified as truly bizarre. The race would be run in teams of two or more, and the mode of transport could include anything except for private car, taxi and pedicab. Having been missing a similar annual event in Canberra since we moved to Beijing (the always fun, but now defunct Mountain Bike Urban Polaris), and always one to celebrate a friend's passing of one more year, Amy and I (and Maddy, surprisingly) were all keen to be a part of this quality Chinese version.

A small group of competitors had been selected for the trial run, but on the day it was just three teams comprising a mix of Aussie Embassy staff and other Beijing ex-pats that took up the challenge and headed off from the start line out the front of April Gourmet on Xingfu Zhongjie. The rules were simple. Teams had 6 hours to visit as many of the 30 available checkpoints as they could.  There was no set order or minimum amount of checkpoints you needed to visit. Each checkpoint had a certain number of points allocated to it (from 10 points up to the highest one worth 80 points), depending on how far you had to travel to get there and/or what task awaited you when you arrived. Some checkpoints had extra bonus points, but would they be worth the effort?  The aim of the game: to have the most points at the end of the race, and be back in enough time to not loose more points than you gained (as teams lost points at an every increasing rate the later they were back after the 6hr mark).

For many checkpoints simply taking a photo to prove you'd been there was only half the fun.  From having to dine on the local delicacies at Wangfujing’s “Eat Street”, to having photos of a team member participating in three common pastimes at Temple of Heaven, to riding China's longest elevator in Xidan, there were a wide variety of checkpoints and tasks to select from.  This meant that some quickfire analytical skills were needed to identify which potential route offered to most points along the way - just as well I didn't brain my damage drinking too much wine the night before.  Having a self-confessed zero knowledge of the local bus system we knew that we would be at a huge disadvantage taking the public transport option, so we decided to shock the riding legs and take to our bikes for the race with Amy taking Maddy on her pillion passenger seat for extra exercise.  The other two teams decided that they would give the combination on-foot/subway/bus option a go, which would provide a very good comparison of bike vs public transport effectiveness.

The 'Ball Game"
Our preliminary assessment of the checkpoint locations had us deciding to do a clockwise loop around  the eastern Beijing area, covering Solana and Chaoyang Park as our Eastern-most border and Calligraphy Street (LiuLiChang) on the western front. Our first checkpoint of choice after the starting gun went off at noon was Yaxiu, where the challenge was to buy the race organiser (and birthday boy) a present for a maximum price of 25rmb. Bonus points would go to the team that managed to find the tackiest present. With time being of the essence it was the shortest time I’d ever spent in that god foresaken building, as I wandered in with a plan to track down one of the now famous Obamao t-shirts from the closest stand to the front door. Luckily the sales lady I met was not keen for a battle and waved the white flag faster than your average French soldier, and I was back out in less than 30 seconds with a 25rmb tee and Team Guihot back on our bikes heading east.

The next one and half hours flew past quickly, but so did the checkpoints as our planned attack route took us to the Mexican Embassy (to get the number on the gate) and then to Solana to track down the not so tough miner whose lost more building blocks than he's ever shaped with his sledge hammer (one of two Lego men I've seen around town).  After a photo of the Lego man it was then down to the picturesque southern gate of Chaoyang Park for a picture before heading right down south to the CBD for a happy snap of the not-so-happy CCTV buildings (one that was fried before its time, and the other which is empty because the previous occupants were the reason why the former fried before its time).

Amy with the Lego Man of Solana (3rd checkpoint)

Out the front of Chaoyang Park's south gate for a quick photo. (4th checkpoint)

After a short stop at Guomao for some refuelling we were off along one of Beijing's busiest thoroughfares Jianguomen Avenue to the Beijing Astronomical Observatory, which we had never been to and so took a bit of time to track down. It ended up being a small, unassuming section of the old city wall which offered a vast contrast to a lot of the new construction going on around it.  Whilst I stayed down the bottom to check on the bikes Maddy and Amy headed up to count the number of exhibits on the roof, only for me to find this answer on the sign right next to the ticket counter.  From the uncrowded roof of the city wall we jumped into the crazy and very busy front door of Beijing Railway Station to pick up another checkpoint, before heading into the familiar territory around Hongqiao.

After picking up a quick and easy 20 points at the Toy Market it was over to Tiantan Park (Temple of Heaven) for potentially the most time-consuming checkpoint of the day. We needed to get photos of one or more team members participating (with the locals) in three different local activities/pastimes. Luckily by this stage the park was in full swing, so after a quick stopover for some Chinese yodelling, a bit of Beijing Hackysack and some P.E. with the other visitors we were on our way to our western-most checkpoint for the day at LiuLiChang (Calligraphy Street).

The Beijing Railway Station - a mass of humanity and interesting luggage options, and our 6th checkpoint.

Tiantan Park, where I sang along with a music group who favoured piano accordians for our 8th checkpoint challenge.

I also played Jianzi (Chinese hackysack)

Madeline did her part for the checkpoint challenge, taking on the exercise equipment

We then started a mad dash back to the street behind Qianmen for a visit to the Beijing Police Museum which closed at 4.00pm. Our time management seemed to fall apart here though, as we finally tracked it down at 3.50pm (after some directions from the locals) but got refused entry by some very keen security guards. In a fortunate turn of events though, we were just about to head off for the next checkpoint on our list when we had our only encounter of the race with one of the other teams. One of their team members, a trusted hand in all things Mandarin, was able to do some serious negotiating with the museum shift supervisor and get us in for a personally escorted trip to the top floor to find out what the third item was that the Australian Police had donated to the museum (aside from a hat and plaque).

The next checkpoint was all Maddy’s, as we needed one of our team members to get a photo with a Chinese tourist. Given that Maddy seems to draw them like moths to a flame whenever we go to Tiannenmen it was very quick points before heading off to "afternoon tea" at Wangfujing’s snack street to secure some more points, in exchange for a pic of a team member eating one of the "local delicacies".

Maddy doing her job well in Tiannanmen Square.

I went the scorpions (seen above on the skewer) and the seahorse.  The former was certainly more palatable than the latter.

Amy just went for the seahorse - crunchy goodness!

Next port of call was Jingshan Park behind the Forbidden City, and a climb to the very top of the hill for a piccy of the Forbidden City on high. Having never been there we were all keen to head up to the peak for the points on this one. It was good in theory, until halfway up we realised that the 34kms we'd done already that day were leaving the legs feeling really tired. It was decided then that this checkpoint would be our last, and we would take the shorter route back to the start/finish and MAYBE just pick up just one more on the way - the little known ‘Repelling Demons Stone’. We’d been told that this was a bit tricky to find, so thought we would use up all of our remaining 40min tracking this down and getting back just in time. Luckily the clues proved to be very helpful, as we came across the carvings on our first attempted navigation of the hutongs west of Dongsi Beidajie.

Nearing the end of the race at Jingshan Park.

The Repelling Demons Stone - a tricky one to find for some.

With the demons duly repelled, 28min still on the race clock and the legs getting an adrenal-fueled second wind we decided to run the gauntlet and head off to the China-famous Beijing Tap Water Museum, just a stone’s throw away from the Australian Embassy. After coming to a decision point along the way in diminishing light and having to choose between left and right turns (the wrong one all but killing the opportunity to get the points) we thought we had selected the wrong option until we discovered that the name of this local icon had only recently been changed to the Beijing Water Supply Museum. After seeing off that red herring thrown at us by authorities we marked our presence with yet another happy snap and then took on the heavier traffic back to the finish line (at one stage courting death by riding against the 2nd Ring Road traffic). We rolled over the finish line at a race time of 5hrs, 59min and 16 seconds to find one of the teams only having just arrived back themselves, and the third team looking alot more relaxed having taken the last few hours at a more casual pace.

Beijing Water Supply Museum.  Fear not in your quest for adventure - ALL the local taxi drivers know it.

In the end we managed to visit 16 of the available 30 checkpoints and collect 425 points, putting us in 1st place only 10 points ahead of the next team, but before the bonus points had been awarded. It was a great day – one of the best we’ve had riding around the city. We’d visited places that we had not yet been, and ridden places that, while very close, we’d not yet ventured. The final scoring and regaling of stories was done around the table over wine, beer and pizza - the only way official matters should be dealt with.  In the end our decision not to include in the glasses market meant that we were not eligible for one of the bonus points on offer, and it was the race organiser/birthday boy and partner (and overall winners) that were the only team of the three that had included this on their route and who jumped ahead to take the overall line honours.  Well deserved, and just reward for such a great job of organising the event.  But in the spirit of everyone gets a prize we'd also taken something away (other than the great experience) - 43.1km for the race, and 52.5km overall was a good stint on the bike and reminded me why I enjoy cycling so much, even in a crazy city.  The all female 3rd team also really enjoyed themselves, and deserves extra special mention given that one of their members was running on limited sleep having got to bed at 3am that morning.

Our race route and elevation profile (noting the 500m map offset that occurs with China GPS co-ordinates).  Interesting to note that the two peaks in our elevation were due to climbing stairs, and walking up the peak at Jingshan Park.  Yep, Beijing is pretty flat.

A more accurate route map (over Beijing satellite image)

Plans may already be underway for a 2nd one in Autumn, and given the variety and sheer number of interesting places around Beijing it’s almost certain that the list of checkpoints will include 30 totally different locations and/or challenges for competitors.

More route details (and a better quality map) can be found at http://runkeeper.com/user/rguihot/activity/31127759

Dear Brothers and Sisters. Today we shoot at you. Please hide well.

The above greeting was part of one of our favorite stories told by our tour guide during our recent trip to Fujian Province, the closest part of China to Taiwan. During the height of China-Taiwanese tensions the firing of artillery between the Chinese and Taiwan's closest piece of terra firma to the mainland was a regular occurrence. But the actual soldiers on the ground started to get a bit sick of the whole affair - hell, most of them probably had family on the other side of the straight, or knew someone who did.  So a 'gentlemen's agreement' was made between the two sides that China would fire their guns on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and Taiwan would return fire on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.  Sunday would be a day off.  The above greeting was one that was recited by the Chinese Army at Xiamen, over the massive loud speakers that point towards Quemoy island only 2km off the coast of Fujian (and which belongs formally to Taiwan).

Our tour group this time was a really nice combination of people, albeit with the usual personalities that we have come to expect from CCC tour groups (which primarily services expats).  There were the quiet Europeans, who tend to keep to themselves and rarely say 'boo' at the lunch and dinner tables.  There was the person (historically almost always American - sorry Molly, but we've had an Aussie too :-) who thinks that everyone they make eye contact with wants to know their life story, and can't get enough of their own voice.  Then there is the China long-termer who, over the course of the weekend, will not advertise it but will show that they can walk the walk and not just talk the talk.  If you listen out you'll hear their almost perfect Mandarin, and if you take the time out to chat with them will find that they have got quite a few years and more of living and working in China under their belts.


Not For All The Tea in China
There's an old joke in China that Adam and Eve could not have been Chinese, because Eve would never have eaten the apple - she would have eaten the snake instead.  And when our local Fujian guide told us that that she was planning to read the entire book on "Things Chinese Don't Eat" in under 5 seconds, we knew we were really close to the Cantonese region in China where anything not nailed down is fair game for the cooking pot (and where rat, cat and snake are standard menu items in the more local eateries).  We did manage to avoid the rat and the snake (which most in the group would have avoided at ANY cost - wowsers), but the cuisine was certainly different to what we are used to up north.  The seafood was actually fresh from the ocean, rather than aqua-farmed (which gives a dirty taste to everything), and the use of chicken and duck more prevalent than up north.  Still, some staples pop up anywhere in China (good ol' tomato and egg).

But in saying that you just would not eat some things for all the tea in China is a big call, because there is ALOT of tea in China.  And Fujian is one place that gives you an idea as to just HOW much.    The tea plantations extend as far as the eye can see (Oolong being the biggest variety down this way), set on the side of every piece of available hill.  But it's not the only crop in the area - tobacco and rice are grown in the same plot as alternative season crops (anyone remember the Simpson's "Tomacco" episode?  Sticky rice with that addictive Winnie Blue aftertaste).  Bamboo, sugar cane and bananas also grow abundantly, and although the soil and flora looked a bit dry at this time of year the locals certainly didn't appear like they went hungry.

Oolong tea plantations of Fujian in the foreground and background.

But enough of the overview - it's the sites and the local culture that we were there to see.  The Clan of the Hakka Han actually have alot of street cred to their name.  The richest Asian man in the world  - Li Ka-Shing - is Hakka, as too was Mr Modern China himself Deng Xiao Ping.  The former captain of the Flying Cocktails is Hakka.  And then, if that's not enough, Hu Jintao visited the Hakka Villages once last year and from then on all has been glorious (well, at least the 2 metre by 4 metre billboards with his mug on them have).

Our first stop along the Hakka trail was a scenic spot high over a traditional Hakka village known as Tianluo Keng, nicknamed "Four Dishes and One Soup" for its shape.  We were not surprised to be told that the place was popular with tourists (it's regarded as the most beautiful by the local people), but we had no idea about HOW popular until we were required to walk down to the scenic platform through a huge traffic jam in the middle of nowhere from 400 meters up the hill.  Our first sight of the Hakka architecture from up high was impressive, notwithstanding the bad angle of the setting sun which made taking any decent photos nigh on impossible.  But there's always the serenity, right?  Wrong.  Thanks to Chinese tour group leaders and their love of mega-phones, you are never out of ear-reach of a high pitched voice in Chinese espousing the "beautiful nature".  Back up on the road the traffic tension really took a turn for the worst.  While I wasn't there to see it personally, according to trusted eye-witness accounts (i.e how Maddy described it) there was"a BIG fight, and a guy nearly killed another guy and tried to throw him over the edge of the road".  Minus the Death Match that I had pictured in my mind, it was still by all accounts a pretty solid punch-up that was actually started and further provoked by an old guy taking issues with a younger guy in a car.  In a situation where I thought youth and enthusiasm would outlast old age and deception I was well and truly wrong, as the old guy started to show the younger generation that growing up Mao style built more than character - it also built survival instincts.  Lucky the issue was later resolved as both parties decided to go their separate ways (which was lucky, as Maddy wanted to do Hapkido to break up a fight).

The "Four Dishes and Spoon" Hakka Settlement

The traffic jam heading down to the Hakka Village.

After this we headed into a small village to get up close and personal with the Hakka architecture. These buildings are vastly different to anything else found in China.  Up to 5 stories high, they are like a big donut - one big roundhouse (and naturally the only type of dwelling that Chuck Norris will live in) or in some cases a square house.  The style was initially adopted for the purpose of protecting the residence inside from roving barbarians, thieves and neighbors who were upset with these new intruders from Northern China (where the Hakka Han are believed to have originated from, pushed south-East by the expanding empire of the North).  With only one door into the compound to guard, no windows on the first two floors, well stocked storage rooms and internal water wells they could outlast a siege for anywhere up to 3 or 4 weeks.  These days, with the threat of barbarians and thieves having long since passed (they've all moved to Silk Street now), the modern day Hakka tulou now houses up to 4 generations of the same family, and is passed down to the eldest son but with room at the inn for all.  Other tulou's have leased out their individual rooms to residents and businesses (and will cost you a couple of rmb to go up for a look), while others are open to tourists as inns and guest houses, and play an important part in the local economy.

One of the bigger tulou buildings (four floors for this one).

As with any tourist site in China, a very crafty (if somewhat repetitive) tourist souvenir market has built up around the tulou region (although no Hakka-house shaped hat I'm afraid to say.  I'll contain my disappointment for times when I'm alone).  Of all the reminders you can take away the award for most effort has to go to the souvenir photographers, three of who jumped in behind our tour guide when she was taking the group shot and took their own snaps.  The winner of the three was the lady who'd run back, printed it out, put it into a souvenir frame and was trying to tell them to the group before we had even got to the door of the tulou (less than 3 minutes).  Against the usual run of the grain, a number of the souvenir shops inside operated in fixed-prices, so no hope of haggling for a lower price no matter how much I tried (even the good old fake walk away failed).

King of Tulou from on high.  Note the multiple rings.

Vendors in the King of Tulou.

Traditional 5-star, Hakka-style
So by this time we'd seen the tulou from afar, seen it from up close, and now it was time to get up close AND personal as we headed off to our accommodation for the night - a traditional Phoenix style Hakka House (aka the Fuyu Tulou) where we would actually be spending the Friday night in one of the hakka houses that had been converted into a guest house.  They'd warned of a lower than usual accommodation standard, and they weren't wrong as the rooms were even more basic than the accommodation we had in Hemu village in North Xinjiang (where the shower was over the squat, and the water was provided in a bucket).  Still, the beds were comfortable, the blankets were ample, and quite frankly we were so tired from the early flight that we would have slept through CNY in Beijing all over again.  And the broken pink plastic "Strawberry Shortcake" vanity mirror added that touch of class that separated it from the luxury of even the most expensive Shangri-la hotel.  There was even a late night impromptu Chinese dragon dance by locals along the river next to the inn, which Maddy and I saw as Amy was tucking herself into bed.  Breakfast was basic, but offered the biggest selection of breads I've seen outside of Baker's Delight (or Wei dou mei - Beijing's equivalent).  The whole experience reminded us of our stay in Hemu village, in northern Xinjiang Province.  Although the Tulou was basic, China is proving to be very modern in relation to internet connection with the hotel having Wi-Fi from the outside restaurant (which was right near the coffee maker).  After a coolish night and sleep broken by new years fireworks (the loud cannon variety) we feasted on a breakfast of 10 different bread varieties and partly gelatinous hard fried eggs.

River beside the tulou accommodation.

Maddy resting up in our very basic room at our tulou accommodation.

The Fact and the Fiction

Another story told over the course of the weekend was a great one involving the US intelligence agency, who upon seeing the tulou buildings on satellite images (and thinking they were nuclear missile silos, this being Cold war time and all) sent two American agents into the Fujian countryside posing as tourists.  After meeting all the locals and checking out the buildings the two agents came to the conclusion that the only future threat to the USA was the possible dumping onto the US market of 1 million excess tulou key rings and hakka house snow globes.  With US snow globe and key ring manufacturers duly warned they headed back with their packs loaded to the brim with tulou ashtray and the last of the hakka house oven mitts (the obvious reason why I couldn't find one at ANY souvenir shop - 'sigh').

The epic FAIL of this concern about Hakka-style missile silos became even more apparent as we were required to chill out at the tulou of a local family while our bus negotiated its way through ANOTHER traffic jam.  Mr Jian, the older brother of the family, proved the most gracious host serving us tea and snacks and (through the translation skills of our guide) gave us the low-down on his humble abode.  Luckily once the bus got through to us, our local our tour guide Anne got out and walked ahead of the bus for the drive out, facing down any car that decided to try and play chicken with our prime people mover and telling them to rethink their last navigation decision.

One of the young residents of the tulou buildings.

The other smaller houses and farms around the bigger tulou buildings.

Our last Hakka stopover was to a little village that has recently been renamed "Love Story", because of the filming of a movie of the same name that took place there.  It offered a lovely stroll along the river and under huge banyan trees, before we got back on the bus and headed back to Xiamen for check-in and dinner.

One of the HUGE banyan trees in the village called "Knot"/"Love Story" (named by the Chinese Govt of course).

Despite the excessive numbers of tourists the trip west into Hakka territory is one that I would highly recommend (albeit at a less busy time, if there is such a thing).  If the pictures of the scenery aren't enough to consider the trip a win, the picture I was able to nab with a PLA soldier certainly is.  Such a thing is a rarity in China - they tend to be way too serious in Beijing, but in this case this fellow (and later his mate) actually came and asked me.  No doubt the photo will be stapled to his next job application.

If there was any negative side to the whole trip it was our observation that China has a long way to go to address its rubbish disposal problem.  The piles of refuse were everywhere in the Hakka villages, and on one occasion included a whole pile of used firecrackers which periodically showed that the gunpowder within was not entirely expended.  The Central Government really needs to get compost happening at a national level.

The dirty side of rapid progress.

One of the many friendly locals in the village (although this guy was actually from Fuzhou, the capital of Fujian located further up the coast).

In terms of domestic chores like washing of clothes, the villages in the Yongding area are (in most cases) the land that time and technology forgot.  Alot of the washing of clothes and vegetables is still done by hand in the river, in water whose cleanliness is questionable given the amount of rubbish floating in it (one local was assigned to pluck the rubbish as it floated by, but was doing a half-arsed effort at best).  Minus the rubbish-dump spots around the place, the village was as close to the misty Chinese village among lush green mountains as I have come, although just out of season as the vegetation was looking a bit on the thirsty side.

Doing the washing the old way.

The Coast with the Most
If it wasn't for the Chinese signage one could stand in some areas of Xiamen at night and be mistaken for thinking they were in Broadbeach or other areas around Surfer's Paradise.  But not in a negative way - rather in a "this place has money" kind of feel.  Xiamen appeared from the outsider looking in to have a more mature taste than most other parts of China.  And it's not surprising.  Xiamen was one of the first ports to be opened up for trade with the west and many overseas Chinese are from this province.  As a result they have had a lot longer exposure to western clothes, quality imported products and in particular western architecture.  And nowhere was the latter more obvious than when we headed off to Gulangyu Island on the last morning of our trip just 5 minutes by ferry from Xiamen Island.    The place was actually crammed with tourists (shoulder to shoulder in some small alleys), and the beach looked like the classic beach picture in the original "Where's Wally" book (except if Wally was really lost on the Gulangyu beach, I'd call off the search immediately and pronounce death by mis-adventure).  Our opinion then (and now) is that the local authorities really need to limit the number of visitors to the island at any one time, as it was really unpleasant unless you managed to escape to the local residential areas.  We did manage to find our way there by mistake, and after giving one friendly local the slip who was intent on being our "free guide" we  really enjoyed the peace and quite albeit for a short while.

The busy Gulangyu Beach.  No swimmers or beach chairs, just a whole lot of Chinese tourists standing around in smart casual wear.

The busy streets of Gulangyu.

The old western-style architecture of Gulangyu.  Many of the businesses are located in old consulate buildings or villas built by foreigners many years ago.

In the western areas of the island the former residence and consulate buildings of foreign countries gave the streets that real Hong Kong feel about them, inter-dispersed with quant little boutique hotels that charge through the roof for the location, location, location.

Xiamen - one of the first Chinese cities to open to the west, and to get all of the western culinary atrocities (except at 3am, when a 5hr old McDonalds hamburger is perfectly acceptable).

Back on the mainland for a quick walk around, and it was a case of more leather shorts than Oxford Street in Mardi Gras (although it was the women who were the culprits here).  A large group of us were well and truly in need of a caffeine fix though, and managed to track down a coffee shop for a quick relax before we were back on the bus and on our way to the airport for the return flight home.

We are looking to head back to Xiamen in June, when we have been told that the crowds will be smaller and the weather the best (although the weekend just gone really was shorts and tee stuff for us, even if we did get "you're abusing that child" looks from locals for letting Maddy go t-shirt).

Modern Xiamen Island from the water.

Xiamen's answer to Australia's Big Banana, Big Oyster, Big Merino, Big - the Big Energy Efficient Light Globe.  Theme park opening soon.

Maddy doing the Rock 'n' Roll look around Fujian.

The Final Countdown

No, I'm not talking about that 80's cockrock song (as classic as it is), but rather the realisation that we only have 11 months to go before we are likely to resume our normal lives back in Canberra (not that I can ever be classified as 'normal').  While I'd like to avoid cliches at this point, it is actually quite amazing how fast 25 months have flown by.

We've certainly tried to squeeze all of the goodness out of the opportunity that we could, knowing that if we don't get another chance in our lifetime then we'd go back to our home in Canberra happy and grateful for the experience.  We've tried to see as much as we can, written about it way too little, and made some great friends along the way (and sadly said goodbye to some).

To say that living in China has been an absolute blast would be an understatement.  There will be things that I certainly will NOT miss when I go, but there will be things that I will miss dearly.  But where to start on a list for either?  Probably after 2 bottles of red.

Things I Will NOT Miss

• Walking down the street and seeing a kid taking a dump on the footpath.
• Having to dodge frozen lung butter on the footpath (ie goobers the size of a newborn elephant)
• Sitting down in the non-smoking section of a restaurant, only to find I've been seated next to the Marlboro Man himself.
• Getting aforementioned Marlboro Man as my taxi driver, even though there is a non-smoking policy in taxis (resulting in me taking yet another photo with my phone of a Taxi Driver's details).
• Getting asked by a taxi driver to "Get Out", because he's not wanting to go in the same direction that I want to.
• Looking outside and not seeing two feet in front of you because of the "fog".
• Driving skills of a 1930's rural Australia.
• The beratings I get from taxi drivers for not getting one of my Mandarin language tones correct.  Here's a deal, Mr Taxi Driver - you have a shower this year, and I'll correct my tones.
• Shit TV
• Having to go to 5 shops to buy all the stuff on the shopping list.  "Hot and Cold" as a descriptor for stock availability just doesn't cut it.
• Having that feeling after EVERY purchase that I've been done over on the price.  So looking forward to a return to fixed prices.

Things that I WILL Miss

• Our first year of weekends in China.  No weekend kids sports commitments, no planned activities (social outings excluded), and no household commitments.  The absence of routine Saturday offspring activities can be a sweet, sweet thing.
• The innocence (and righteousness) of childhood in a very multicultural setting.  In all of Maddy's friendship 'issues' it's been the usual peer pressure as the first culprit, followed usually by the group power struggle, and so on down the line of personality traits.  In all cases the excuse of "she's Korean/Chinese/Japanese/" has NEVER rated a mention (as it shouldn't).  The tea leaves bode well for a world view, and we thank China for the tea.
• The MIGHTY Flying Cocktails - dear friends I have made, and dear friends I will miss (and others who I've already had to farewell).
• Chinese New Year.  It's the night that Chinese people forget they live in China.  Rules are disregarded, authority is thrown to the wolves, and anarchy is embraced faster than bai jiu at a Beijing banquet.
• Shit TV (hey, they're STILL ninja movies).
• Conversations with my Chinese guitar teacher about life, faith, and politics.
• Those who I've dined with, and wanted to dine with a second time.  
• The adventures, the travels, the encounters.  China cannot be adequately described in a TV series or even an epic Lonely Planet guide.  I've read plenty of books about people's own views of China, and not one of them relate in any way to mine.  And in all honesty, my view of China now is unlikely to relate in any way to my view in another 5 years time.
• The total lack of self conscience in the older population.  They dance in the street, they sing in the park, and they don't give a rat's arse what other people think.  Perfect tonic for the modern western world.
• The pulse of a city (but one showing signs of a forthcoming cardiac arrest in many areas - traffic, development).  But while the pulse may eventually slow in the daylight hours (or in the case of traffic, come to a grinding halt), it's the night that will continue to be WHERE IT'S AT!.
• Roubian, late night Jian Bing, and this little salty pancake with an egg that proves the quintessential breakfast on a rushed morning (two for AU$0.60).

There is no doubt I'll come up with more as the countdown continues, but as is the way here they will usually rear their heads as a direct result of an incident that is just as likely to leave me smiling and hopeful, as it is to leave me pissed off and cursing.  But in the words of many before me (who were alot more experienced in these affairs), "That's just China".

The Eternal Spring - Part 1

YUNNAN.  Only 10 months ago the thought of China's southern province and gateway to Vietnam and Cambodia conjured images of very contradicting landscapes.  On one hand we had seen many programs on the TV about Yunnan having "the most dangerous mail delivery route in the world".  The type you imagine in the mountains of Peru, where locals traverse villages built on either side of a fast-flowing river and deep canyon via a single flying fox.  On the flip side were stories of the severe drought hitting the region, making it even harder to grown crops in soil that has already been farmed to death.

The reality, although invoking the potential for such images, was not at such extreme ends.  Yes there were some very barren sections, and others that were lush and irrigated all year round. There were even Australian eucalyptus trees growing on the slopes around Kunming and in Lijiang.  But the hue of the landscape aside, it was the stuff in the air that was the region's best attribute - I'm talking about nothing - just good old-fashion healthy AIR.  No chemicals, no smog, no whatever the hell else they pump out of Beijing chimney stacks that makes my living room air filter flash green (which means that while you may not smell the cyanide, it's actually lingering just below the surface and ready to strike - just like puberty in a Chinese airline pilot).  It was also one of the province's that claim the most ethnic minorities (as does Xinjiang, where we visited earlier in the year). The number of minorities groups is so great that if you were to buy the traditional head piece of all of them, you'd take longer than the Pope to pick a matching skullcap for your choice of outfit.

Our plan was to start at the provincial capital of Kunming, and then head north-west and upwards towards the Tibetan plateau and aclimatise to the altitude as we went.  We would eventually make our way up to 4,400 meters (if only for a short while), but with memories still lingering of a 4hr headache after our Xinjiang Karakoram Highway trip I was not looking forward to altitude sickness again.  I was once told that Han Chinese suffer high altitudes more than most, as do those who are uber-fit.  Well I'd been duped on BOTH of those accounts already, but this time I was EXTRA prepared.  Under my belt this time was 8 weeks of my patented "NO physical training whatsoever" training program, and I'd had a few glasses of wine every night just to ensure I'd forgotten even the most simple of Mandarin words.  I was sans Chinese,  sans Iron Man body, and ready to tackle altitude sickness head-on Tommy Raudonikis -style.

We'd purposely chosen to travel in the area outside of the peak tourist season, with the aim of being able to take at least one photo without 500 chinese tourist heads bobbing away in the foreground.  Only time would tell if she was friend or foe.

Kunming
The first thing that caught my eye as we left Kunming airport on the way to our lunch restauarant was a big statue of a wine bottle.   How promising is that? But if there was one big novelty monument that would best epitomise Kunming it would be a giant mushroom, with a grass hopper sitting on top smoking a chinese cigarette.    It's a mushroom lover's heaven, as we found out when we tucked into a big mushroom hotpot with 5 or 6 different fungal varieties.  Already we'd noticed the different costumes of the waiting staff (dressed in the Sani traditional outfit, the predominant minority in the area), but still something was familiar - chilli sauce, in all its varieties.  We were to discover that it's a big thing down south, and goes very well with mushrooms.  But fear not, fellow carnivores - there was a meat option, but to be honest (and I can't believe I'm saying this) I much preferred the vegetarian options in this case.

To be honest we hadn't really done our research on the towns we were visiting, but that seems to be the way we do our trips as we tend to leave it to those in the know to know the best places to go.  Of all our travels around China this approach had really only bombed out on a few occasions  - way too many museums on a few trips, and then there was the Germ Warfare Museum on our Harbin Ice Festival (HappyLand THAT was). Kunming certainly didn't make this black list as our first trip was out to the famous Stone Forest, a large area made up of large limestone rock formations formed by water erosion when the area was submerged around 270 million years ago (give or take a few days).  In typical chinese kitsch form (in this sense meaning all the Chinese tourists love it) they had names for the ones that resembled animals and objects other than just 'rock'.  Even so, when one overlooks the over commercialism of the place and the excess number of tacky tourist shops it still is a great natural wonder.  From the viewing platform high above we could see the tropical vegetation that supported Kunming's claim as the "Eternal Spring".

Kunming's Stone Forest

Kunming's Stone Forest

It was here that the head dress of the local Sani minority girls caught my attention (many of whom where acting as tour guides).  The hats they wore had two little fabric pieces on the top that resembled cat's ears, and there seemed to be no pattern to whether they were pointing up or down.  Some females had both their "cat's ears" pointing up, others both down and others again had one up and one down.  Just when my temptation was building to go and point one down I decided to ask our tour guide what they meant.  Gotta say it was the luckiest course of action in my life up to this date, as the guide explained that both ears up meant single status, one up and one down meant they were engaged, and both down meant marriage.   If a male wanted to propose to a single girl they simply go over to them and turn down one of their "cat's ears".  Phew - could have been an arranged marriage right there if I'd poked around with the pointy bits too much, requiring some real explanation to Amy.

Sani minority group dancing at the Stone Forest.  The spectator in the blue jacket is really getting into it.

The next day our first stop was meant to be the museum, but unfortunately (or fortunately, depending how you look at it) the museum was actually shut.  It did give us a short moment of concern, as alot of Chinese monuments are closed on Mondays and any Chinese tour company worth their MSG should know that.  Could it be we had ourselves a FAKE Chinese tour company at the reigns of our tour plans?  Thanks to some quick thinking from our tour guide she gave us a few alternative options and instead of moseying through what would have been 90 min of Maddy complaining she was bored (and doing cartwheels around thousand year old artifacts) we headed into the main part of town to check out a couple of pagodas (a staple meal on any China Culture Centre trip) and then the bird/reptile/arachnid/insect market.  In an exciting twist we also wandered into a large market selling all kinds of local delicacies, allowing me the opportunity to have my first nibble of fried grasshopper along the way (surprisingly delicious) and see how they make chili in catering packs.

Big pots of chili paste being prepared and sold at Kunming's "Eat Street".

Our last worthy spot on the Kunming tourist trail was up a chairlift for a great scenic view over Kunming from Western Hill and Dragon Gate.  It was from here that the less developed and less polluted nature of Yunnan became apparent.  Yes there was a bit of smog hanging over Kunming, and they have had to undertake a big cleanup of their lake to make the fish from it edible again, but the city didn't look as impersonal and cold as all of the other Chinese cities we have visited.  Like a bigger Vancouver in a way (apologies to all the Vanouvians/Vancouvettes/??).  And I'm still not convinced that the smog was created by factories - it's more likely from the 90% of the Kunming population that take advantage of the region's reputation as a quality tobacco growing area, and who are single handedly puffing the world towards an early ice age.

Green Lake from Dragon Gate.  The highway you can see on the left goes all the way to Hanoi.

It wasn't only daytime that held great appeal for us in Kunming.  The nights were very pleasant temperature-wise. Bringing our stay to a spectacular end was a great night out at a show called "Inspiring Yunnan".  Showing dancing and music from all of Yunnan's minority groups, the choreography made Riverdance look like a primary school play.  The drumming was reminiscent of the Olympics opening ceremony performance, and when combined with one particular silhouette dance by a double-jointed local lass from behind a curtain it kept all of the crowd (and especially the men) transfixed for the entire 90 minutes.  The show does tour outside of China, so if it comes your way be sure to check it out.

So next it was off to Dali, and with a 8hr drive away as the only other option it was alot shorter flight to drop us into the middle of Bai minority country.

Dali
Landing at Dali airport is a real last-minute deal, if only for the passenger (I assume the pilots had it all under control, when not reading their Enid Blyton books).  One minute you are looking out the plane window and watching the miniature features of a landscape 800m below, and the next second the runway is 50 meters below you as you come to touch down on a flat plateau high up in the hills surrounding the city.

The city itself is at 1400 meters, meaning that we were really starting our climb up so where sure to take it easy and not rely on short sprints.  Our tour guide in Dali was Alice, who's mother was Han Chinese and her faterh was Bai Minority. She had been lucky enough to go to Uni to do the English for Foreign Tourists course.  And again the impressive language capability of even those Chinese citizens in the back-block of the country became apparent, as we found that Alice was fluent in English, Mandarin AND her 'native' Bai tongue.

Bai lady at the Dali market.

Fresh BaBa bread being baked by a vendor at the Dali market.  It was VERY tasty.

Central to Dali's economy is another massive lake ('Erhai'), this one actually clean enough to sustain a busy fishing and recreation industry especially in high tourist season as the locals take boatloads of tourists out to observe the Comorand fishing and a bit of impromptu duet singing from the boat captains.  As we experienced on our day out on the lake, when our boatier with a "Canberra Garden Club"-style hat joined the Bai guide on the boat next in a scratchy yet still appreciated rendition of a local love sonnet.

Comorand fishing on Erhai.

Our boat captain on our Erhai Lake adventure was all about colour.

After the boat ride and lunch at a great restaurant we headed off to check out the three pagodas of Dali.  Built hundreds of years ago, they were surrounded by lovely gardens but more recently have been accompanied by a new and VERY LARGE temple complex starting behind the pagodas and working its way up the slope of the mountain behind.  The new temple was on the site of a former temple complex, and the Chinese Government had invested alot of money to rebuild it for the sole purpose of attracting the tourist dollar.  As with most large-scale tourist sites all the typical bits of superfluous infrastructure were in place - electric buses to take you to the top (and bring you back down), snack stands, places where you could (for a cost) dress up "Bai" style and get your picture among the surrounds.  It did offer though GREAT kodak moments of Erhai, and so we decided to extend our stopover here and spend an extra hour wandering through which afforded us some great vistas.

The 'Six' Pagodas of Dali (3 actual buildings, and the 3 reflections in the pond).

Three pagodas, temple and Erhai.

The Dali old town itself was a bit of a disappointment.  Looking very similar to Pingyao with its gate and row upon row of same-same shitty tourist shops, I had been expecting to find a place lined with quant little coffee and tea shops with plumes of mary jane smoke pouring from their doors.  I'd read that Dali had a reputation as a hippy hangout, and although we did get one or two offers of "smoke smokie" from old Chinese women, most of the Old Town's main street was a line of Han Chinese all trying to sell us the same cheap souvenir.  There was the opportunity to continue on my testing of the local culinary delicacies, which in Dali's case was a fried local cheese that was brushed with oil and cooked over coals chun'r-style.  And as I would have expected from cooked cheese, it was pretty specc'y indeed.  At a stretch, the presence of three guys dressed up as Monkey, Pigsy and Sandy at the end of the street did provide for some amusement, but as in most cases in China the opportunity for a photo doesn't come without you dipping into your wallet.

View from our lunch table in Dali.

So Dali was done and dusted, and to get to our next destination of Lijiang required a road trip of northern Xinjiang proportions - a 4hr drive to go 180km, on a stretch of road that I'm told represented the BEST sections of the 'highway' between Dali and Lhasa (capital of Tibet).  Stay tuned for Part 2 of our Lijiang adventures in the coming week as well as a place called "Shangri-la", which although was absent of the divine beings I was expecting from such a place name, did offer divine food, divine kodak moments and a divine Tibetan barley firewater that actually made ME feel like an invincible god-like creature after just one glass (until 5 minutes later, when I realised Gods shouldn't be suffering post-firewater vomit burps).

Xin Nian Kuai Le ya'all. (Happy Chinese New Year).