A guilty combination in Phnomh Penh

 

We were on a tight schedule in Cambodia, so no longer after we had dropped off our bags and freshened up, we were back on a tuk tuk and heading out to experience what the capital had to offer.  Strangely enough, our first visit was to a shooting range which is quite the tourist attraction.  When you arrive, a man dressed as a soldier (could have been one) shows you through a book of guns with prices next to them.  You decide what you want to fire, how many bullets, and then you are given the gun and bullets – as easy as that!

Of course, Christian and I could not resist the temptation to fire an AK47 and so dressed in army fatigues and wearing ear muffs, we fired at the paper man in the distance.  I have to admit it was loads of fun!  My heart was pounding as I held the barrel to my shoulder and when you fire you can really feel just how powerful a weapon it is.  We also fired a revolver which is very difficult – full credit to James Bond.

If Christian ever stands in front of you with a loaded AK47 or just a standard revolver, I wouldn’t be too worried to be honest.  You might hear the bullet go past but the worst it might give you is a graze on the arm.  Me on the other hand you might want to watch out for – I fire a mean AK47! [Executive Editor: whilst Fiona was good, I shot the target in the middle of the forehead!]

After the exhilaration of the shooting range our moods were lowered when we were taken to see the Killing Fields.  The Killing Fields are where the Khmer Rouge bought their victims to be killed.  Men, women and children were named as subversives of the Kymer Rouge, sentenced to a short and torturous spell in prison, before before driven out to the Killing Fields where they would be shot, or beaten to death.  This all happened as recently as 1979.  Under the rule of Pol Pot approximately two million Cambodians are estimated to have been murdered or starved to death by the Khmer Rouge.  The centre piece of the Killing Fields is a tall tower which is somewhat like a display case, inside it is all the skulls that were unearthed after the Khmer Rouge were bought down.  Surrounding the monument are the souvenirs of what the Khmer Rouge did; huge holes where bodies were found, a tree which was used to beat children against, dusty ground which was once a firing line.  The whole area is very depressing but somehow also very peaceful and relaxing and I enjoyed (should I have?) wandering around it as the sun set.  It was a strange combination of activities that we enjoyed that afternoon, learning how to fire a gun and seeing the damage they do.

That evening we headed into Phnomh Penh centre to witness the biggest festival of the year; the Water Festival.  Out-doing New Year as a celebration in Cambodia, this festival dates back to ancient times when they would celebrate the strength of the Khmer marines.  Nowadays it is also celebrated as a way of thanking the Mekong river for the food and fertile land it brings.  It is a huge celebration and the biggest part of it is the boat racing, where teams from all over the country come to compete against each other.  Unfortunately we missed the racing but caught the evening celebrations.  The whole area by the river was packed with people.  There were market stalls, people selling food and drinks in the street, fashion shows, and huge boats decorated in lights.  There were families with children lying on the concrete pavements which seemed strange to us.  The next day we found out that people walk for miles and miles to get to the Capital to witness the festival.  They then sleep on the streets for a couple of nights before walking miles and miles home again.

The next day (after Christian had left his favourite shorts at the hotel – how he misses those shorts!), we took a lengthy journey to Siam Reap.  Leaving Phnomh Penh was a challenge in itself because roads were closing in preparation of the biggest day in the Water Festival calendar, and the streets were full of people.  We were glad to be leaving because it was all getting just a bit too much. It was that evening in Phnomh Penh that over 330 people died in a stampede at the festival.  It was really sad to hear that so many people had died in such a tragic way, on the day when Cambodia normally unites in celebration.

Phnom Phenh to Siem Reap (pin)

Best Laid travel plans

 

Our travel day from Phu Quoc, Vietnam to Cambodia started (as it was to continue) with a delay at the airport.  We had envisaged (because visions are often better than reality) that the airport at Rach Gia, Vietnam would have buses going to one of the border towns to Cambodia.  However, when we approached the airport and saw the size of it, and then walked through customs to see an empty arrivals hall, we knew we had a challenge ahead of us.

We wanted to get to Chau Doc, a popular border town that didn’t look far away on google maps.  When we asked the taxi men standing outside the airport how much they would charge to take us there, they all shook their heads before declaring “one million dong”.  This is a huge amount of money, but none of them would budge on price. 

We talked with an official at the airport and a moped driver in a helmet who seemed keen to get our business, and found out that there was a bus going to Chau Doc and it was just along the road.  A taxi took us to the bus, and the little moped driver drove alongside the taxi, rather like a royal escort!  At the bus, the little man in the helmet made sure we got onto it OK and then he took our fare and disappeared.  We were worried that we had just handed over our money to a complete stranger who would be speeding home to take the next week off work, but as it turned out, this little man had indeed gone off to pay our fare.  And from that point on, one Vietnamese person after another helped us on our way to Chau Doc, beckoning us off one bus, putting us into seats at the next bus station, showing us to our next bus, and finally taking us (with all of our luggage) around Chau Doc on mopeds to find a bed for the night. 

It was quite an adventure and we saw some fantastic sights out of the bus windows as we travelled through the mekong delta.  There is no ignoring the fact that all the towns and people in this part of the country are completely reliant on the river, and have almost become one with it.  It is difficult to see in some places where the houses end and the river begins.  My reflection in the bus window and Christian were the only white faces I saw that whole day, and our voices were the only ones using words I recognised.  It was really exciting!

Eventually we arrived in Chau Doc at about 8.30 pm.  There was just time to organise our river crossing into Cambodia for the following morning, before climbing into bed for a well deserved sleep. 

So here’s a joke for you: What kind of cockrel wakes up at 4.30am?  Answer: A Vietnamese one.

The never-ending journey

So after a broken sleep, we paid our 8 pounds hotel bill (that was for the drinks from the mini bar as well as the room itself) and headed to the river.  There was a spring in our step as we knew we would soon be in Cambodia!  We had paid extra money for the executive fast boat and I sincerely implore anyone going to Vietnam and making the river crossing into Cambodia to do the same.  The fast boat took us eight hours door to door from Chau Doc to Phnomh Penh (we were told it would be half this).  God only knows how long the slow boat would have taken.

On the way, we had numerous stops.  In one we walked through a small village and had loads of kids running after us and shouting hello.  They were all so sweet and smiley in their smart white uniforms, we even had this little toddler in his pyjamas greet us.  We were celebrities again!

The border crossing happens on the river bank in a pretty set of buildings surrounded by gardens.  It was fairly painless and we got through quickly with the help of our boat guide and a local photographer (oops forgot passport photos!).  Our guide was quick to point out the car owned by the Cambodian Border Official – bought through all the bribes!

Eventually we arrived in Phnomh Penh, the Capital, and took a tuk tuk to a hotel.  The streets of Cambodia’s capital are not quite as littered with motorbikes as Ho Chi Minh, but they are pretty hectic nonetheless.  In fact they were probably more hectic than normal, because Christian and I had (unwittingly) booked our trip to coincide with Cambodia’s biggest festival; The Festival of Water. 

It was lovely to step out of the tuk tuk and into our hotel. Circa 51 is a fantastic Oasis in the heart of Phnomh Penh with service, staff and furnishings to rival any Western boutique hotel.  After more than 24 hours taking a taxi, a plane, a taxi, a bus, another bus, a moped, another moped, a bicycle tuk tuk, a boat, a bus and a tuk tuk, it was fantastic to actually arrive somewhere!

You’re barking up the wrong leg

Although we only spent 5 days in Vietnam, we have some stories to tell, so brace yourself for some giggles and shocks. In fact ‘giggles and shocks’ is a pretty good description of how we spent our time in Vietnam.

We flew from Hong Kong to Ho Chi Minh city (Saigon) in a very comfortable plane. It would have been a fantastic flight had I not been sitting next to a man who alternated between smelly belching and regurgitating phlegm for the whole journey. Before you ask, it wasn’t Christian. He was busy eating his four course meal next to me, while the man to my other side was regurgitating it.

In Ho Chi Minh we paid a taxi driver probably about a months wage for driving us around in what felt like a big circle, to get to our hotel. It was a great drive though as it gave us our first taste of Vietnamese traffic. We had never seen anything like it. Literally the whole road was bustling with tooting mopeds that wound in and out of each others way. In a car, we were very much second class road users and crawled around at a snails pace, whilst families of four raced past on the family moped.

At our hotel we were shown to a room which had not one working light (the romantic suite perhaps?), and after a couple of staff had tried the light switches and verified that yes, none of them worked, we managed to get a room which did have working lights. The hotel was actually really nice and on the way up in the lift we had spotted that a full body massage in their new spa cost only four pounds. Yes four pounds! Four pounds later and Christian had got more than he bargained for!

The “massage” experience

We should have been alerted to the fact that this was no ordinary spa when the man at the front desk took great lengths to explain the tipping system; “you pay tip to girl at end, tip depend how happy she make you feel. You understand? You understand? You tip because she make you feel good, yes?” Fine we thought, after all we were only paying four pounds for an hours full body massage, we were happy to give a tip and we nodded our agreement.

From that moment on we were taken to separate rooms and I didn’t see Christian again until I saw his slightly pale and confused face afterwards. So I can tell you first hand about my experience, and I will piece together Christian’s story from what his pale and confused face told me afterwards.

In the massage room there was a pair of loose silk shorts for me to put on. I lay there waiting for a nice relaxing massage and in walked my masseur. I lifted my head and was met by a pair of thighs in a very short and tight skirt. I lifted my head further to see that my masseur was a very young attractive girl wearing an awful lot of make up and not much else. She proceeded to give me a massage by climbing all over me. There was a lot of skin to skin contact which was not just with her hands and to be honest I felt a bit uncomfortable with it, especially with her in such a tiny outfit! From next door where Christian was I could hear a lot of slapping. At the end of my massage which was pretty poor (something told me she was not a professional, not of massage anyway), she asked how I was feeling. I said “good thank you very much” (very British) and swiftly put my clothes on.

Outside I waited for Christian who seemed to take about ten minutes longer. When he eventually emerged he was looking traumatised and seemed pretty intent on getting back to our room for a shower. Supposedly her massaging hands had been quite cavalier about sticking to boundaries and he had laid there with his eyes wide open the whole time. With about fifteen minutes left of his hour, she had asked whether he wanted anything extra. After he replied with a definitive “no” she seemed surprised and since she had ran out of massage tricks, she just went over the same bits again. I think what Christian was being offered was what they term “a happy ending”. For Christian however it was a very unhappy ending to the day and (I am writing this weeks after the event) he has not had a massage since!

Phu Quoc Island

The next morning after breakfast (where there appeared to be a lot of Western men with young Vietnamese girls who looked just like our masseurs… go figure), we headed to the airport for a flight to the small island of Phu Quoc. As our propeller plane left Saigon we saw rice paddy after rice paddy as far as the eye could see. The next land we saw was the island of Phu Quoc, our home for the next four days. We had decided that after weeks of city jumping, it was time to relax, unwind and have some beach time. And with that in mind Phu Quoc was the perfect destination.

Phu Quoc is an island off the Southern coast of Vietnam. It’s location would suggest it belongs to Cambodia, and the Cambodians would like it that way, but the Vietnamese have managed to keep ownership of it, and have put a large military base on it to ensure it stays that way. It is heralded as the “next Phuket” since it has long stretches of sandy beaches and is largely untouched by tourism. There is a short section of beach that has beach huts, a couple of hotels and restaurants on the sand, but that is the extent of the development. It was the perfect oasis for two weary travellers! Our days largely consisted of swimming in the warm sea and lying on the beach. We exerted ourselves by hiring a kayak one evening and by going snorkelling one day, but we largely took it easy.

Local fishermen

A sign on the beach for waxing…anyone have a bear that needs trinming?

One pound hair cut

On one afternoon when our bodies were saturated by sun and salt water we decided to hire a moped and go into town for Christian to get a hair cut. I sat on the back of the moped with one hand on Christian’s waist and one hand holding his helmet on (it was not the most secure of safety features). The town of Duong Duong is small and dusty with no tourist amenities at all. When we saw something that looked like a barbers we got Christian in the chair and Christian used international sign language to say he wanted it all cut off. And this is what he got for one pound – not bad hey!

Please note the hair on the floor was not all his

On the way back to our beach hut we got completely lost and ended up in muddy villages with Children shouting hello to us. Getting lost can be a lot of fun!

Island Karaoke with pirates

That evening we thought we would check out the local night life. We headed away from the beach and towards some loud music that we could hear. From the noise, it sounded as though we had found the only party in town and we were ready to join in. The music was coming from a bar underneath one of the hotels and as we walked down the stairs we could feel the base vibrating. Inside however… was completely empty! There was no-one inside barr a couple of staff and pictures of characters from Pirates of the Carribean on the walls. We had a drink and to our delight the staff put on a karaoke system! We grabbed the karaoke book as the bar staff started warbling songs in Vietnamese. To our dismay the whole song book was in Vietnamese, and if you can name and sing a Vietnamese song full credit to you! The characters are completely different from ours so we couldn’t even piece together some words.

Maybe the bar staff could tell we were disappointed because they then proceeded to try and find us a song in English and they succeeded! And that is how we ended up singing to Orlando Bloom, Jonnie Depp and a couple of Vietnamese bar staff the song “We wish you a Merry Christmas”, in mid November. It was a karaoke experience I will not be forgetting in a hurry.

Sadly the day came when we had to leave Phu Quoc. We had a flight destined for Rach Gia in the South of Vietnam, and from there we intended to get a bus to Cambodia, arriving in the evening to Phnomh Penh. It sounded like a sensible plan.

It’s true what they say about the best laid plans…. Read on

We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy ending (to the year)!

Hong Kong highs and lows

After the luxury of 3 days in an actual real-life home (thanks Paul and Victoria and congratulations on the arrival of baby Maiya!) we got into another train bound for Hong Kong. Guangzhou is only about two hours from Hong Kong but I think by this point we had had a lifetime’s worth of train journeys and it felt much longer. Getting into a taxi at the rail station reminds you that you are no longer in China – since the taxi driver actually spoke English (of sorts) and there was no need for hand signals, maps and exasperation.

We had booked a hostel in Kowloon (Hong Kong is split into Kowloon on the China side and Hong Kong Island over the bay) over the internet. It had some pretty good reviews. Pretty good reviews that must have been written by blind and deaf people! The hostel was basically a corridor on the seventh floor of a crumbling residential block. The reception area was tiny and piled high with papers, laundry, and people’s bags. There was only just space to squeeze past into the narrow and drab corridor that lead to our room. And our room! Firstly it was tiny and felt like we were back on the Trans-siberian train again (if I rolled over in the night I had to be careful not to roll into Christian, and we were in separate beds!). Secondly it was very noisy and we could hear sirens and shouting as though they were just in the room next door (which is a possibility). And lastly, it was just bad.

Christian declared it was the worst place he had ever stayed in and so to take our minds off the awful accommodation (Golden Island Guesthouse – don’t be fooled by the name) we spent most of the next two days out of it. That evening we met up with some English friends who happened to be in Hong Kong that weekend. We went for dinner at Aqua, a restaurant on the 28th floor of a building next to the harbour. The views were amazing and the Skyscrapers really are phenomenal (all the more so when you see that they are built using scaffolding made of bamboo!). We then took the Star Ferry across to Hong Kong Island for a night out on the town.

Something that struck us about Hong Kong was that we were no longer celebrities! Unlike in China, there were Westerners everywhere (especially on the Island itself) and so the days of feeling like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were officially over. We had a fun night on the island and the next day while Christian nursed a hangover I took a wander around Kowloon. There is an amazing contrast between Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. Kowloon is a jumble of street markets, cheap eats and people spitting, and like China you have to be careful where you put your feet. In contrast Hong Kong Island is a maze of wide streets, over and under passes to get you between skyscrapers and across busy roads, and shiny metal. If Kowloon is red neon then Hong Kong Island is mirrored glass.

The streets of Kowloon

And just across the water; Hong Kong Island

That afternoon we wandered around a big computer market trying to find me a laptop. Christian asked technical questions that (hopefully) made us look like we knew what we were doing, whilst I picked them up to assess how much they weighed, and made comments on things like… colour. We made a mean laptop-buying team and I came away with a great notepad (EeePC if you are interested) which I love. In between shopping, we watched a local football game and also some basketball and felt like real locals.

On our last day in Hong Kong we took a walk though Hong Kong park to the tramway that took us up to Victoria peak. The park itself is a lovely green oasis where birds and terrapins thrive, just next to towering skyscrapers. The tram is a cute experience and after being forced to walk past shop after shop selling overpriced souvenirs on the way up to the viewing platform, Victoria Peak offers a fantastic unobstructed view of Hong Kong.

So what was our overriding view of Hong Kong? Well, I think Hong Kong lost out slightly in our eyes because we had just come from China which was full of challenge and culture shock. In comparison Hong Kong was more familiar. There were many highs (skyscrapers, Victoria Peak, our dinner on the 28th floor, catching up with friends, me bagging a bargain laptop) and also some lows (our dismal hostel, the realisation we were no longer in China and gone was our celebrity status), and after a few days there we were ready to move on to the challenges of Vietnam. Vietnam was great and I still giggle thinking about our time there, so I hope you get some laughs too from the next blog.

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Shanghai and Guangzhou

Shanghai
After three days in Beijing it was time to leave our trans-siberian friends goodbye to jump on yet another train. We took an overnight train from Beijing to Shanghai and were completely blown away by the standards. I was so blown away I couldn't sleep at all, despite the soft white duvet and fluffy pillow (perhaps I am now better accustomed to Russian prison camp bedding). The only flaw in the otherwise perfect train was that like everywhere else in China, the toilets are squat toilets. These are basically a hole in the floor with grips on each side for your feet. This is standard in China and the friends we met up with told us that in places designed to cater for westerners (and our funny little toilet habits), it is not unusual to see footprints on the toilet seat, where the Chinese have tried to work out how to use it, and failed.




In the cab on the way to our hostel we passed skyscraper after skyscraper, and could only see skyscrapers in the distance. We had entered a jungle of cement and neon signs. Reassuringly, more of the signs in Shanghai are in English so we could at least recognise some letters (unfortunately no words!).



Our guide book and a couple of people had recommended we visit the French Concession and so we did. This is an area conceded to the French in 1849 by the Governor of Shanghai for French settlement. It was given up by the French during WWII. To be honest the feeling of the place now was a little contrived to us, and the little boutique shops and Western-style shopping plazas with outside dining held little appeal. Fine if we were strolling along the Seine or through Covent Garden – but we were in China! We did visit an interesting museum in this area, it was the museum of the First Communist Party of China (CPC) National Congress Memorial Site housed in the building where the first ever meeting of the CPC happened.

That evening we met up with a local for dinner and some nightlife. We had been put in contact with Kevin through a mutual friend, and Kevin told us to meet at a certain address. We were expecting a restaurant but when we knocked on the door of the address we had been given, it was opened and promptly shut in Christian's face. We didn't realise but Kevin was taking us to a friends house for dinner (and they obviously didn't like the look of Christian). When we made it through the door we were introduced to about ten Taiwanese people who were meeting up for a dinner party. We ate Taiwanese specialties in the form of Hot Pot, Sesame Chicken, Chinese sausage, and radish cake. It was delicious and everyone was very friendly. We then went out to sample some of the local bars and of course we ended up … at karaoke!

The Karaoke place we went to was like nothing we had ever seen to before (and as you may know Christian and I have substantial experience in this area). The whole place was more like a five star hotel than a karaoke joint, and the staff there were dressed accordingly. We were shown to a palacial room (for four of us), where we spent a good few hours howling. We left at 3am and luckily Christian and I (unlike the others who had work in the morning) slept off our excesses.




The next day we took a wander around the riverside and headed to a market where we got hounded and pushed from stall holder to stall holder. At one point when Christian showed some interest in buying a watch, the stall holder beckoned us inwards, pushed on the back wall, and as if in a Bond movie we emerged on the other side, in what felt like a chemist. We were then locked inside the chemist room and I wondered whether we would ever leave. The stall holder then proceeded to pull out briefcase after briefcase of fake watches. Christian put in an offer, it was refused, and we left. This was a similar situation in many of the places we visited, the Chinese may barter with you to a certain level, but they won't entertain the situation for too long (not like the Souks of Morocco where you will have tea and tabnabs whilst the bartering continues).
That evening, we left Shanghai to fly to Guangzhou. We were not too upset to be leaving Shanghai, it is a thriving metropolis with an amazing economy (it provides 43% of China's private sector GDP, has the world's largest port and the fastest growing stock exchange) but it does seem to have lost it's Chineseness in preference for Western and more European tastes.

Guangzhou
After a pleasant flight and metro journey (transport in China is far superior to the UK system and also far cheaper) we met our friends Paul and Victoria at Yongtai metro station in Guangzhou. Guangzhou is the province once called Canton and it is the southern-most province before reaching Hong Kong.

The first thing we noticed about Victoria was how she had really let herself go during the 18 months she has lived in China – she is fat! Only kidding, she is eight and a half months pregnant and looks gorgeous:) We spent the next three nights with Victoria and Paul, and also their no-tailed cat Walter, and the neighbours cat Ming. It was so nice to have some home comforts. We ate good bread with nutella, we had a toilet we could sit on, we could access facebook and our blog site, and we caught up on the third series of The Inbetweeners.... luxury.




During our stay in Guangzhou, they were hosting the Asia Games. This mostly worked to our advantage, it meant there were people at road crossings with big orange hands to guide you across, the city had been given a makeover with lots of flowers everywhere, and supposedly (we wouldn't have noticed the difference) taxi drivers and people of authority had been trained in English and told to be on their best behaviour.




In Guangzhou, we took it easy, bought some souvenirs, ate well, took the cable car up for a view of the city, and had the “China Post” experience.

China Post Experience

We thought we would nip to the Post Office early on our last day in China, to get some Christmas presents sent home. At the post office we patiently watched the one worker unpack everyone's packages, check their contents (mostly clothes and handbags), repack them, weigh them, and go through some paperwork before moving onto the next. We politely waited some time before our chance in front of the girl. She then indicated we had to fill out a form. We filled out the form and joined the queue again, where we watched more pieces of clothing being unpacked and packed. Eventually it was our turn in front of the girl. I had meticulously wrapped all of my presents in Christmas wrapping and to my relief she didn't unwrap them (although she probably would have done a nicer job with the wrapping paper than me), she then crammed all of our stuff into a box got out her calculator (this is how we communicate in numbers) to let us know the cost. 96 Pounds! To have our stuff flown back to England in three weeks time. 96 pounds!

You are probably thinking that we had a palette full of expensive gifts, but, sorry to disappoint (family – it's the thought that counts remember) we didn't have much and it certainly wasn't worth 96 pounds. So we then took ourselves out of the queue to think through our options. By this point, we had somewhat lost our minds. Watching packages being unpacked and packed again is a bit like watching cricket. And so it took us a while to decide we would send the stuff by ship, and we would need to get some money out. With true leadership skills we decided that I would rejoin the queue and Christian would go get money. As I was filling out the new paperwork, Christian returned to reveal that no banks would take his card. We swapped positions only for me to find the same thing with my card. After more dazed confusion, we remembered that I was carrying Christian's US dollars in my money belt. We got out the dollars only to find they would not accept dollars, only Chinese Yuan. And so off went Christian to get the money exchanged.

I am actually getting bored just writing this story... and can feel myself slipping into the “China experience comatose condition” again. So apologies if you have fallen into a similar daze...

Whilst Christian was filling in a form to get his dollars exchanged, I found out that we had enough money in Yuan after all! Woken from my stupor I called to Christian and we amazingly managed to complete our transaction, before getting on the wrong bus back to Victoria and Pauls.

And so the outcome of this story is that our families should be receiving their Christmas presents by Easter, but when they do receive them I hope they truly appreciate the hardships we endured, and money we almost spent on them!


Christian and Fiona

Location:Shanghai, China

The Summer Palace

Summer Palace

The Summer Palace was basically the Summer residence of the Dynasties. During the summer months when the centre of Beijing and the stone Forbidden City became to hot to endure, the emperors would move out to the Summer Palace. The Palace is home to a large lake, is surrounded by hills, and it would be considerably cooler here than in the Forbidden City. In fact, even when we were there it was freezing compared with the city centre. We took a guided tour by a sweet girl. Her English was better than the other guides we had taken, but we still had to concentrate very hard and use our powers of deduction to work out what she was trying to say.
The lake and scenery around the palace are beautiful, and it is a very peaceful place to wander around. In these majestic and serene surroundings, we felt the need to be a little stupid, see the photos below.

















Christian and Fiona

Location:Beijing, China

The Great Gall of China

And so at 8am on our second day in China we met up with our Trans-sib friends for our tour to the Great Wall. We were introduced to Skye, our guide for the day and we all jumped in the mini-bus destined for the Wall. She told us we would be back at the hotel at about 6pm, we would spent about 1.5 hours at the Great Wall itself, we would visit the Ming tombs briefly on the way, and that it was about an hour's journey. Something wasn't quite adding up...




The drive out of Beijing gives you a real sense of just how huge the city it. It has a population of about 50 million and the sprawl seems to continue endlessly.
Our first stop was at a Jade museum. We were shown a couple of workers who were carving the jade and were then shown some of lumps of different types of jade. It was a somewhat shallow introduction to the stone, but by comparison the souvenir shop was comprehensive! We were given about an hour to peruse the shop which sold just about anything you could ever desire, in green jade. A couple of people in our group parted with some pretty serious cash to buy some jade before we departed for the Ming Tombs.




The Ming tombs, as the name would suggest, is the location where the emperors from the Ming Dynasty are buried. Feng Shui is very important in life and death, and the location of the tombs is perfect by Chinese standards, so the emperors can rest happily.
After visiting the jade museum/souvenir shop and Ming Tombs there was just enough time to visit a mosaic vase factory before lunch. The vase factory had the same set up as the jade one (funny that). We had a brief walk through a production line before we entered a huge shop where people tried (unsuccessfully) to sell us vases and everything you could ever want, made of mosaic. We then had a quick lunch and at last it was time for the Great wall!




And it was great! We were left to our own devices for an hour and a half and we climbed the wall as far as we could. The section of wall we visited had been renovated for tourists and so was in impeccable shape, but still you have to watch your footing because the steps are uneven in depth and width. Every so often there is a beacon tower, which is where flares would be lit to warn of advancing danger (when the guide told us about these, Christian and I both heard “Bacon” tower and so were somewhat disappointed that they were made of stone), and these give you fantastic views.



I really wasn't expecting the views to be as good as they were, you could see for miles and could see bits of the wall in the distance. When we had got to the highest point we were bombarded by Chinese tourists asking to have their picture taken with us. This is also something we encountered in Beijing. The Chinese in Beijing are just not used to seeing Westerners and they either become very shy and stare at you from a distance, or they come straight over and ask for a picture with you. It gave us a taste of celebrity (which we kind of enjoyed!).




We could have spent a lot longer at the Wall and for anyone else visiting I would implore you not to go with a guided tour, but instead just get a taxi to drive you to the wall and pick you up hours later. Forus the day was not over yet! We still had a silk museum and tea factory to visit! Before getting to these we were given the tempting off of a free massage in the Olympic Village. As you can imagine, we were all torn by this offer, firstly it was a foot massage, secondly it was in the Beijing Olympic Village and thirdly it was free. It was the last part we didn't quite believe, and we all pondered over whether to accept the offer or not. I guess it was curiosity that made us accept, and we were all glad we did because we got such a giggle out of it.




The Olympics had a huge effect on Beijing and it was all to the benefit of future tourists to the city. The city was transformed for the event. All signs had English translations, the metro system and all the stops were also translated, measures were taken to combat the smog (not that we noticed) and the Olympic village was built. The Birds Nest is a great piece of modern architecture and the whole village is well organised and clean (can we ever compete?). We were welcomed to the village and taken to a room where we were all given arm chairs and told to roll up our trouser legs. We all then put our feet into individual basins, each with a tea bag in it. Whilst we relaxed in our foot tea, a Tibetan doctor came in and told us about the art of reflexology. His English wasn't great and we only just managed to keep a straight face as he earnestly told us about the need to push and pull your feet every night, in fact his wife pushes and pulls him every night. When the intro was over a bunch of young students dressed in Beijing Olympics outfits came in and started massaging our feet. While this was happening, the little Tibetan man read our palms and decided that there was something wrong with the sexual organ of our friend Dan. After this revelation a top reflexologist came in, he was suited and booted and had been hyped by the little Tibetan man. And here is where the scam began...

Our friend Dan had had a big night the night before and had been complaining of a hangover that day (until he started drinking beer again). The top reflexologist made a beeline for Dan and after touching his feet for no time at all, he announced that Dan had a problem with his liver and that it needed treatment. So poor Old Dan had a bad liver and something wrong with his penis! Luckily for Dan, the top reflexologist had some magic tea bags for his liver, and they could save his liver for the bargain price of 60 pounds. As Dan sat in disbelief, the top reflexologist moved on to his next victim. This Swiss man had something wrong with his kidney and it needed treatment. Luckily for him, there were feet tea bags available for him also. Phew – what a relief, their organs could be saved!

We left the Olympic village with pickled feet and no money spent, so it really was a free foot massage after all. Christian and I later worked out that the only two people who were targeted by the top reflexologist were the two who had parted with money at the jade museum. Now, you can call us cynics... but we think this is more than just coincidence. Our theory is that our guide tipped off the guy before he came into the room, on top of this he could probably smell the fumes from Dan!

After the Olympic village we visited a Silk Factory/souvenir shop and managed to decline the tea shop . It had been quite a day on the Great Wall of China tour, and because we were forced to spend more time being sold to than actually at the Wall, I am renaming it the Great Gall of China tour. They really do have a nerve!

That evening we went for dinner before finding a local bar with a live band. The band were singing English songs like the Beatles, Coldplay and Red Hot Chilli Peppers. However, we only knew this from the guitar melody and not the words – since the singer was basically singing sounds that fitted with the music, and would just sing “la la la la” when he ran out of sounds. It was very amusing and surprisingly good.

When they took a break we tried to have a chat with the singer, but the only English he knew was “Hey man!” Christian had videoed one of the songs and tried to articulate to the singer “can I put this video on Youtube?” The singer seemed very nervous by this suggestion as if youtube were a dangerous place to be – and perhaps it is for the Chinese. After this thwarted conversation, Dan took to the stage and played drums for the band and also sung some songs (with actual words) just to show them how the British really do it. It was a bizarre ending to a bizarre day, but we were beginning to get our heads around China and the Chinese. With only one day left in Beijing we decided to head to the Summer Palace.

Christian and Fiona

Location:Beijing, China

Ni Hao China

Our last leg on the trans-Mongolian train took us from Ulaan Baatar through the barren gobi Desert, through a long and tedious border crossing (in which every single carriage was lifted off the tracks so that the chassis could be changed from Mongolian to Chinese rails) and then through some amazing Chinese scenery. The train ran alongside mountains, rivers, farms and also gave us our first peak at the Great Wall. The Mongolian train is a much higher standard than the Russian trains, with televisions and headphones for every passenger. The views and standard of train on this last leg allow you to forget about the tedium of the Russian journey!




It may not look like it, but this is luxury.



First encounters in China

After 31 hours in the confines of a four berth cabin, walking out of the station at Beijing is a complete sensory overload. Your ears are hit by the sounds of traffic and shouting, your eyes are hit by Chinese symbols, colour and neon, and your lungs are hit by smog. We were immediately excited to be in a big developed city.




We had been warned that very few people in China speak English and with this in mind Christian had meticulously copied out the address of our hotel in Chinese symbols. It was a real piece of art (31 hours on the train well spent). Despite how beautiful it looked no-one seemed to know what it meant or where our hotel was. Taxi drivers just shook their heads at us baffled.

In the end we forced ourselves upon a bewildered tax driver and got him to phone the hotel for directions. From the taxi journey we began to get a better sense of the city - traffic, bikes, rich people, poor people, capitalism, noise and pollution.

Our hotel was a traditional courtyard hotel in a hutong (alleyway) away from the busy street. Every morning in the courtyard, we had breakfast with Elvis Presley and Chairman Mao!

On our first evening we walked along to the night market. They mostly sell food at this market. Food in the loosest sense of the term, a lot of the food was fried versions of what you and I might find crawling around behind the fridge.




We didn't try fried scorpion or starfish (we're watching our waists you see...if they had been steamed or poached we would have), but instead opted for some unrecognizable street food. It was very tasty and other than being scammed by a dumpling seller we felt fine for the expeience. Later that evening we had Peking duck at a fancy restaurant (Dadong) where they roast the ducks over four open fires on a stage. It was delicious – and almost as good as yours [Fiona's] dad! On the way home we got completely lost looking for our dark hutong with a restaurant on the corner (note to self: every hutong is dark with a restaurant on the corner). A very friendly couple stopped to offer us help and even walked us all the way back to our hotel. By the end of our first evening we had interacted with lots of Chinese people and had rather mixed views of them, we had been scammed three times (getting a taxi, a Sim card and some dumplings) but had also met some very friendly people. We didn't know what to think of the Chinese and I think this made us a bit suspicious from that point.

Chinese control

Back at our hotel we realized we didn't have access to websites like facebook, youtube, or even our blog. China has very tight control over the press and internet, so much so that it came 165th out of 168 countries in a survey of Freedom of Press. To highlight this point further you may have read recently about the woman who was sentenced to a year in a labour camp for sending a single tweet (Admittedly, the tweet was an anti-government message, not something mundane like 'I've just burnt my noodles').

Another symbol of Chinese Communism is Tiananmen square and that was where we headed the next day. It is of course most recently famous for the 1989 student protests that culminated in hundreds of killings, but the history of the square goes back a lot further, and it was the city's central site for meetings and free speech for many centuries. People still head to Tiananmen to make protests (a young boy headed there about a week ago with a board pleading for peace in Korea), but due to the high security and police presence there, you don't get very far (he was taken into custody). In fact you have to go through airport-type security just to walk onto the square. But when you do get past the X-ray machines and walk out onto Tiananmen, it is an immense space, which makes a nice change from all the concrete elsewhere in the city. It is the largest city square in the world (at 880m by 500m, shouldn't that make it the world's largest rectangle???), and it houses the two biggest television screens I have ever seen. Perhaps to make up for the smog that obscures your view of the square, these television screens show rippling waters, swimming fish and birds in flight... aaah the natural beauty of Beijing.




Opposite the square sits the entrance to the Forbidden city, complete with a huge portrait of Chairman Mao (no home is complete without one).Your first steps within the Forbidden city are hounded by people trying to sell you trips to the Great Wall, postcards, and pieces of “genuine Chinese art”, once you get past these the experience becomes a bit more peaceful.

The Forbidden city is thus called because it was the home of Emperors and their households for five hundred years (from Ming to Qing dynasties which ended in 1912), with no-one else allowed inside. It is absolutely immense and covers 178 acres of land.







It is a truly amazing and beautiful place to visit, and you can completely forget you are in the heart of Beijing. If you have seen any of the films shot within the Forbidden city (like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon or The Last Emperor) you will be familiar with what lies within its walls, but in short, it is a warren of halls, living quarters, gardens and large open courtyards. Different sections of the city were reserved for the Emperor, his Emperess and also his concubines, of which he could have hundreds. Back in the Imperial days of China, the Forbidden City would have seemed deserted compared with the numbers of tourists that wander around it today. However, if you hang around long enough it becomes quieter towards the end of the day, and you might just catch the sun setting over the roof tiles.



Trying to capture a peaceful part of the Forbidden City, a dumb tourist got into my shot



After tramping for miles around the Forbidden City Christian and I treated ourselves to a massage. We took a taxi to a spa recommended by our hotel owner and whilst I was pummeled and prodded to within an inch of my muscle life by an angry man, Christian fell asleep in the oily hands of a gentle woman. After our massages we went (I limped) to the restaurant next door where we had an amazing and cheap dinner. Over the next few days we ate in a lots of good Chinese restaurants, and learnt the following:

Things we have learnt about eating in authentic Chinese restaurants:

1. You only ever get one menu
2. The waiter will hand you the menu and then wait impatiently for you to make your order
3. The food comes immediately (as if they knew what you wanted anyway)
4. Rice comes last if at all, and you will be considered poor or weird if you ask for it during your meal (supposedly rice is considered a poor staple, and you just use it to fill yourself up at the end)
5. Intestines are frequently in the dishes and they look like tasty pieces of fried bread
6. Intestines are not as tasty as fried bread
7. Meat always has bones in it. You should put it into your mouth eat what you can, and then spit onto the table what you can't digest (see point 9.)
8. Always think about the number of dishes you want and then half it before ordering
9. There is no such thing as table manners
10. Even after abiding by rule 8, you will never be able to eat everything!

The next day we were heading to the Great Wall of China with our Trans-sib friends for another day of “learning how things happen in China”. Read the next blog for an education!

Christian and Fiona

Location:China

Brrrrrrrr at the Gerrrrrrrrrrr

Just the drive out of the city (Ulaan Baatar) was an experience in itself. It is estimated that approximately two million people live in Mongolia and one million of these live in the capital. On Tuesday November 2nd I think all one million residents were in their cars! The traffic in the least visited city in the world is phenomenal, and drivers push past each other like French men queueing at a ski lift. They literally muscle each other out of the way, and some (including our taxi driver) drive up on the pavements to get past particularly bad stand-stills. When you get out of the city, the drivers have other obstructions to deal with in the form of potholes and broken up roads. We were hoping to get some sleep on the drive to the ger camp, but with your head knocking against the window or roof this became difficult.

Ghengis the Menace
Before we got to our Ger camp we made a stop at the Ghengis Khan monument. This is an amazing construction that looks completely out of place in the Mongolian outback; a huge metal statue of the warrior himself. It stands at 130 feet tall and contains a museum to the Mongolian warlord and the times of the Mongol empire (which covered huge sections and China and Asia). We had a walk around the museum and the took the lift up inside the statue to get a view from the middle of the statue. As we arrived at the balcony viewing point, our guide Naki gave us some basic information before pointing out that we were walking out of Ghengis Khan's "pennes". It took us all a while to realise we had just walked out of Ghengis Khan's penis!




The view from Ghengis Khan's "pennes"



Hands up all the girls who love a bad boy warlord!

The interesting thing about Ghengis Khan in Mongolia is that he is a completely revered and admired historical figure: every banknote shows his face, and there are many restaurants, hotels and bars named after the man, there is even a beer in his name. His empire may have been responsible for the deaths of thousands of people but he is still consided a true hero by the Mongolians.

Gerrrrrreat

When we arrived at our ger camp, all eight of us (three Brits, three Aussies, and two Frenchmen) were very excited. We had arrived in the real Mongolia! The ger is a traditional Mongolian home (it is called a yert in other countries) which resembles a circular tent. It is made from a wooden framework covered in felt. It originates from the nomadic lifestyles of the very first Mongols, the homes are easy to assemble and take down, and also to transport. You see gers dotted through the Mongolian countryside, you also see them in big camps around the capital city, and also dotted in between modern buildings in the city itself.



At our camp the scenery was amazing in it's scarcity! There was nothing but bare land as far as the eye could see, just barren hills and bright blue sky. Our ger camp was made up of about eight accommodation tents, a restaurant tent, and a few hundred feet away the toilet (long drops in three huts). Walking into our ger was like walking into Doctor Who's tardis. There were four beds around the edge of the circular tent, a small sink, a roaring fire in the stove in the centre and a table and chairs set up for tea.




Home from home - and yes they do look like IKEA chairs!

That evening the men in our group flexed their muscles and chopped some wood for the ger stoves. You could certainly tell they were all city boys at heart!



He saw, he conquered!


Chop chop Christian!

We had been warned about the food the mongolians eat (animal fat in mares milk being a delicacy), but that evening we had one of the best meals of our trip; mutton. It was delicious. We drank the ger dry and had the bright idea of ordering five more bottles of Mongolian vodka from the city the next day.

Although the outside temperature was about minus ten degrees, the inside of our ger tent was toasty and that evening I slept like a bug in a rug, or like a nomad in a hot tent (as Christian and I had now become).

High Ho Farty horse!

The next morning, Christian and I got into our chaps and saddles for a horse ride. Christian looked the part in his sheepskin coat and cowboy hat while I looked like I needed therapy in my bowl helmet. We were able to name our horses and very soon after I mounted my cute brown pony, it became clear what her name had to be - Farty! She liked to be ahead of the other horses, but I'm guessing the other horses would rather have been ahead of her since she farted almost continuously whilst I rode her.



Farty and Fiona


Looking like he was born in the saddle (until he sits in a saddle and the illusion is gone)

Nomads an island

Whilst at the ger we walked to visit a nomad herdsman. He was the same nomad who had taken us out on horses and his name was Bachalad. He lived alone in his ger with only his horses and herd for company. He was forty five years old but looked about sixty and he was a very generous host to us - perhaps a little too generous. As soon as we all squeezed into his little ger home and made ourselves comfortable on his beds, he served up some traditional Mongolian tea that looked as bad as it tasted. We all eyed up the suspicious liquid and each other before politely drinking as much as we could. It was made up of mares milk, salt, and herbs.
He then served up some mutton that had been steamed on the stove. In traditional Custom, the eldest of us started by cutting off a piece of meat with a knife before handing the knife clockwise around the group.
Bachalad leads a very simple life and his only means of entertainment in the tent was a radio. However he seemed happy with his lot.




We said goodbye to Bachalad and his traditions to return to our ger to embrace some western traditions - we played charades and got drunk.

After two nights at the ger camp it was time to leave. It was such a fantastic place to stay and we all agreed we could happily have stayed a lot longer. The appeal of the place was the fact that there was very little to do, other than a basic bow and arrow and some games with sheeps ankle bones, there is nothing to do but appreciate where you are. And so the blue skies, endless hills and fresh air become your entertainment.







Hungover but happy at our ger camp

We then nursed our throbbing heads on the horrific and bumpy journey back to the city. We were all staying in a plush hotel and Christian and I got a huge suite to stay in. We made immediate use of the space by washing all our undies in the sink and hanging them up around our luxury pad! We know how to live the high life. We the treated ourselves to a fancy dinner in a nice restaurant. You could tell I had been out of civilisation for too long because when the waiter used chopsticks to give me a hot towel at the beginning of the meal, I wanted to eat it! Christian had to tell me what it was.

So after a fantastic time in Mongolia, we had to say goodbye to the train traders, to the nomads, and to Ghengis Khan. It was time to visit the world superpower that is China.

Christian and Fiona

Location:Mongolia - middle of nowhere