Reputedly the most famous and most beautiful mountain in China is Huang Shan (Yellow Mountain). Well, seeing as I've already climbed 2 I thought I might add another one to the list. And there's definitely no argument about it being pretty. For those of you who are closet geologists (and are too afraid to admit it) the mountain is a fine-crystal granite extrusion, dating from the Mesozoic era, with many longitudinal joints. Now I don't really know what all that means (although I did do geology at school) but one thing it does mean is that there are tons of crags, outcrops and dodgy-shaped rocks; and this being China many of them have obscure names such as "pig-headed monk eating watermelon" or "two cats chasing a mouse". The mountain is also home to many wild and endangered animals, but you won't see them due to the bellowing hordes of Chinese tourists. Ah well, it would've been worse during the holidays or on a weekend ... or if the entrance ticket cost less. I can't believe they charge $24 just to go up a mountain (plus you pay extra if you want to use the cable car). Though luckily I managed to get in for half price with my (fake) student ID which I bought in Bangkok (it's really turning out to be a tidy little investment). The mountain has the added bonus of having some (again, overpriced) hot springs at the bottom, so that after a days hiking you can pamper yourself (now where was that when I needed it after Emei Shan!).
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Not An Incidental Incident
I believe you can tell much about a people by the type of TV programmes they watch, and regular readers might remember my musings on Latin American telenovelas and Southeast Asia's love of karaoke. Well, China has its own TV obsession: violence in general and kung-fu in particular. It is hard to switch on a TV here without seeing either a kung-fu soap (personally I'm quite partial to them, especially the ridiculous slapstick comedy), or some low-budget, low quality war drama pitting the plucky locals against the dastardly Japs. Now I don't know what exactly this says about the Chinese, but it does let me link nicely to my next topic.
You see, I happen to be in Nanjing, which was the capital of China once during the early Ming dynasty and also at the beginning of the 20th century (Nanjing actually literally means "southern capital", whereas Beijing means "northern capital"). I wish the city were famous for its impressive city walls, which are the longest in the world, or for being the final resting place of Sun Yat-Sen, the father of modern China. Unfortunately it is most famous for the absolute blackness of its darkest hour. It is here that one of the worst wartime atrocities ever was committed during the Second Sino-Japanese War (the war started in 1937 and later merged into the chaos that became World War 2), or, as it's called here, The War Of Resistance Against Japanese Agression. This ugliest of events is known as the Rape of Nanking (although some Japanese history textbooks call it the Nanking Incident). After capturing the city in December 1937 the Japanese troops went on the rampage committing atrocities on the civilian population, some of which even I am too squeamish to write about. It is estimated that some 300,000 people were massacred in various brutal ways (at the memorial there's even a Japanese newspaper article from the time that describes a competition between 2 Japanese officers to kill as many Chinese as possible using only their swords; the winner managed 106) and over 50,000 women (from 7 to 77) were raped. I feel the massacre here was perhaps worse than the Jewish holocaust simply because the atrocities were committed individually, up close and personal, rather than "industrially". Learning about this makes me understand, at least partly, the general antipathy of the Chinese towards the Japanese; plus the Japanese don't do themselves any favours by stubbornly refusing to say they're sorry and instead state that they "regret what happened" (the difference may just be semantics, but it makes a lot of difference to some people).
You see, I happen to be in Nanjing, which was the capital of China once during the early Ming dynasty and also at the beginning of the 20th century (Nanjing actually literally means "southern capital", whereas Beijing means "northern capital"). I wish the city were famous for its impressive city walls, which are the longest in the world, or for being the final resting place of Sun Yat-Sen, the father of modern China. Unfortunately it is most famous for the absolute blackness of its darkest hour. It is here that one of the worst wartime atrocities ever was committed during the Second Sino-Japanese War (the war started in 1937 and later merged into the chaos that became World War 2), or, as it's called here, The War Of Resistance Against Japanese Agression. This ugliest of events is known as the Rape of Nanking (although some Japanese history textbooks call it the Nanking Incident). After capturing the city in December 1937 the Japanese troops went on the rampage committing atrocities on the civilian population, some of which even I am too squeamish to write about. It is estimated that some 300,000 people were massacred in various brutal ways (at the memorial there's even a Japanese newspaper article from the time that describes a competition between 2 Japanese officers to kill as many Chinese as possible using only their swords; the winner managed 106) and over 50,000 women (from 7 to 77) were raped. I feel the massacre here was perhaps worse than the Jewish holocaust simply because the atrocities were committed individually, up close and personal, rather than "industrially". Learning about this makes me understand, at least partly, the general antipathy of the Chinese towards the Japanese; plus the Japanese don't do themselves any favours by stubbornly refusing to say they're sorry and instead state that they "regret what happened" (the difference may just be semantics, but it makes a lot of difference to some people).
Monday, September 12, 2005
Anniversary Edition
Wow. It was a year ago today that I set off from London to Mexico to start this trip and the last 365 days have really flown by. When I was planning the trip I didn't think I'd be here now ... in fact I thought I'd be well past here and somewhere in India. I've learnt that there's far more to see and that you should take your time. I mean, who would have thought that you could spend a whole month in Laos and still not see everything! Yep, the trip seems to keep getting longer and longer every time I try and plan ahead, something my parents probably aren't too chuffed with.
I thought I'd summarise my trip so far in a few figures. So up until now I've visited 14 countries (15 if you count Hutt River Province) and 4 continents. During my year I've also read 29 books, many of which I probably would not have read back home. I've spent 23 nights in buses, trains or trucks (I thought it would be more). As for how much time I've actually spent travelling i.e. sitting in buses, trains, etc., I'd rather not know really, but I think 3 months would be a reasonable guestimate. And although I'm keeping a note of how much I spend I haven't totalled it up, but I think 6,000 pounds (about $10,000 US) would be about right (which is about as much as I spend in a year back home). I've visited some 36 UNESCO world heritage sights (need to do better next year), countless temples and churches, a collection of museums and a fair few national parks. I've managed to learn to speak Spanish (something I'm more than a little proud of) and count in Thai and Chinese (I've already forgotten the little Viet I picked up). But, most importantly I think, I think I've got a better idea of world history and therefore the reason why we (people in general) are where we're at. I also hope I've got a little more tolerance towards people, though that may be wishful thinking.
So, what's planned for the coming year? Well, I'd dearly like to make it all the way back home overland and not have to fly unless it's absolutely necessary (which it may be to get to Sri Lanka and Myanmar), which may mean that I'll be writing another one of these bloody anniversary posts! More specifically, from here in eastern China I want to make my west and cross over into Pakistan over the Khunjerab pass; then I'd spend a bit of time in the subcontinent before heading back through Pakistan and into Iran. From there it's over the Caucasus and into Turkey ... and then I'm not sure. But that's already far too much planning already, god knows my plans will change a countless number of times by then. Though at least now you can have a wee look at the map and check out the proposed itinerary.
Well, that's enough maudlin from me; I'm off to check out some more museums. Orale bueyes, y hasta la proxima vez.
I thought I'd summarise my trip so far in a few figures. So up until now I've visited 14 countries (15 if you count Hutt River Province) and 4 continents. During my year I've also read 29 books, many of which I probably would not have read back home. I've spent 23 nights in buses, trains or trucks (I thought it would be more). As for how much time I've actually spent travelling i.e. sitting in buses, trains, etc., I'd rather not know really, but I think 3 months would be a reasonable guestimate. And although I'm keeping a note of how much I spend I haven't totalled it up, but I think 6,000 pounds (about $10,000 US) would be about right (which is about as much as I spend in a year back home). I've visited some 36 UNESCO world heritage sights (need to do better next year), countless temples and churches, a collection of museums and a fair few national parks. I've managed to learn to speak Spanish (something I'm more than a little proud of) and count in Thai and Chinese (I've already forgotten the little Viet I picked up). But, most importantly I think, I think I've got a better idea of world history and therefore the reason why we (people in general) are where we're at. I also hope I've got a little more tolerance towards people, though that may be wishful thinking.
So, what's planned for the coming year? Well, I'd dearly like to make it all the way back home overland and not have to fly unless it's absolutely necessary (which it may be to get to Sri Lanka and Myanmar), which may mean that I'll be writing another one of these bloody anniversary posts! More specifically, from here in eastern China I want to make my west and cross over into Pakistan over the Khunjerab pass; then I'd spend a bit of time in the subcontinent before heading back through Pakistan and into Iran. From there it's over the Caucasus and into Turkey ... and then I'm not sure. But that's already far too much planning already, god knows my plans will change a countless number of times by then. Though at least now you can have a wee look at the map and check out the proposed itinerary.
Well, that's enough maudlin from me; I'm off to check out some more museums. Orale bueyes, y hasta la proxima vez.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Don't Use That Tone With Me!
Ever since crossing into Thailand from Malaysia I've been struggling with tonal languages. What are tonal languages? Well, when languages began to develop the first words were monosyllabic (no need complicating things from the outset). Then, as more and more ideas needed to be expressed, some languages (Latin, Greek and their descendants, for example) decided that they would simply make the words longer, thereby allowing more combinations of sounds. The tonal languages, however, insisted on keeping each word down to a syllable and instead introduced different tonal inflections with which to differentiate the same syllable (e.g. a flat tone, a rising tone, a falling tone and even a falling-then-rising tone). A famous example in Chinese is "ma ma ma ma", which, depending on how you say it, can mean "did Mum scold the horse?"; or in Thai "ma ma ma ma ma" can be "mother, new wood burns, doesn't it?" But the one that takes the biscuit for me are the two Thai words klai and klai. The first one means near whilst the latter is far (or is it the other way round?). Chinese isn't too bad actually as it only has 4 tones. Thai/Lao has 5 and Vietnamese has 6! Anyway, being completely tone deaf I can hardly tell the difference either way. This poses problems when I try and say something in Chinese (or Viet or Thai for that matter) because I can never get the tones right, and that makes a great difference to the meaning of what you say. Plus, people here don't seem to be able to extrapolate what I'm trying to say or make allowances for the fact I'm foreign, and often just don't bother to make the effort to try and understand me, which can be very frustrating as I feel I'm really making an effort. I also find it hard not to raise my tone when I'm asking questions or inquiring about something. Still, it must be even more difficult for Australians who can't stop asking questions.
Anyway, today's stop is Suzhou. Known throughout the (horticultural) world for its traditional, landscaped gardens; complete with babbling brooks, lotus ponds, rockeries galore and plenty of pagodas. Although they are unarguably pretty they just aren't my cup of tea. I just find them too contrived and pretentious, as even the smallest gardens have about a hundred little nooks and crannies with the most preposterous of names (as a rule of thumb, the more unassuming the niche the more elaborate the name): "listening to maples pavilion", "rustling aroma island" or "hall of the 19 petunias". At least, because they are dotted around all over the city, they're nice to relax in (or would be if you didn't keep thinking about the entry fee). I may sound scathing but Suzhou is actually quite a cozy city with plenty of little canals criss-crossing the backstreets and ornate, arched bridges spanning them. Plus it's a very good place to pick up some cheap silk products, as it's the centre of the Chinese sericulture, and has been for the past 1000 years.
Anyway, today's stop is Suzhou. Known throughout the (horticultural) world for its traditional, landscaped gardens; complete with babbling brooks, lotus ponds, rockeries galore and plenty of pagodas. Although they are unarguably pretty they just aren't my cup of tea. I just find them too contrived and pretentious, as even the smallest gardens have about a hundred little nooks and crannies with the most preposterous of names (as a rule of thumb, the more unassuming the niche the more elaborate the name): "listening to maples pavilion", "rustling aroma island" or "hall of the 19 petunias". At least, because they are dotted around all over the city, they're nice to relax in (or would be if you didn't keep thinking about the entry fee). I may sound scathing but Suzhou is actually quite a cozy city with plenty of little canals criss-crossing the backstreets and ornate, arched bridges spanning them. Plus it's a very good place to pick up some cheap silk products, as it's the centre of the Chinese sericulture, and has been for the past 1000 years.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Thank Yous
I forgot to add a couple of big thank yous in my previous post (an occurrence that occurs more often than I'd like because I'm just far too scatty) so here they are.
Firstly I would like to thank Jean for being the first familiar face I've seen in over half a year, and also for showing me around her hometown of Haiyan and being an incredibly generous and gracious host. Although I met up with her for only a single day, it was a very welcome tonic.
Secondly I must thank my brother Mark for helping me out with British bureaucracy on two occasions now. When you're at home dealing with your bank, credit card company or insurer is, although tedious, very straightforward. When you're halfway round the world and unable to make phone calls and with no phone number of your own, these mundane problems become monumental. Mark has been invaluable in chasing up these companies on my behalf and then organising conference calls to sort out the problems (one mammoth session with my bank lasted nearly 2 hours).
So thank you, both of you.
Firstly I would like to thank Jean for being the first familiar face I've seen in over half a year, and also for showing me around her hometown of Haiyan and being an incredibly generous and gracious host. Although I met up with her for only a single day, it was a very welcome tonic.
Secondly I must thank my brother Mark for helping me out with British bureaucracy on two occasions now. When you're at home dealing with your bank, credit card company or insurer is, although tedious, very straightforward. When you're halfway round the world and unable to make phone calls and with no phone number of your own, these mundane problems become monumental. Mark has been invaluable in chasing up these companies on my behalf and then organising conference calls to sort out the problems (one mammoth session with my bank lasted nearly 2 hours).
So thank you, both of you.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
An Unendangered Animal
China is home to many animals that are on the brink of extinction: the Siberian tiger, the giant panda, the Siberian crane and the red-crowned crane to name but a few. There is, however, one species of crane that is very common throughout China: the common construction crane (as well as two minor subspecies, the skyscraper crane and the container crane). There is not a town in China that doesn't have at least one specimen, although their breeding ground seems to be here on the east coast, especially Shanghai.
Shanghai is a fascinating city. A sleepy, backwater fishing village just 150 years ago, the Europeans turned it into China's economic powerhouse and the world's busiest port. The vestiges of European domination can still be seen in the neo-classical and art-deco buildings that dot the city, especially the riverfront Bund, the erstwhile British jewel of Shanghai. The city was also a synonym for gambling, prostitution and opium dens, and so fell out of favour during Mao's communist tenure. But seeing as vice is now the flavour of the month Shanghai's back in business. The city's new renaissance is starkly represented by the Pudong area, which mirrors the Bund across the Huangpu river. There the architecture is more modern and definitely more hit-and-miss. The most striking being the Oriental Pearl Tower, which would give Prince Charles an apoplectic fit. But aesthetics aside, Shanghai has advanced dramatically in the last couple of decades (not that I was here 20 years ago, but I've seen before and after pictures).
I suppose that's one benefit of an autocratic state: there's far less discussion and pussyfooting about; when they want something done it gets done. Plus they don't have to worry about pestering NIMBYs and BANANAs interminably holding things up. Two construction projects demonstrate this particularly well: the maglev train that connects the city to the airport and the new deep water port. The maglev train is the fastest in the world and takes only 7 minutes to take its passengers the 30km to the airport, reaching a top speed of 431 km/h as it does so. (It's a German train, but they never managed to build it at home due to constant wranglings about cost and environmental impact.) Well, seeing as I'm here I had to go, so I bought myself a one-way ticket and then took the bus back into town (I wasn't willing to fork out the extra $4 to go back on it!). The deep water port is probably more impressive, but impossible to get to. As there aren't any suitable sites for a port on the coast the government has decided to build one on a cluster of tiny islets ... 30km out to sea! And they've got a road bridge going all the way out there.
Shanghai is a fascinating city. A sleepy, backwater fishing village just 150 years ago, the Europeans turned it into China's economic powerhouse and the world's busiest port. The vestiges of European domination can still be seen in the neo-classical and art-deco buildings that dot the city, especially the riverfront Bund, the erstwhile British jewel of Shanghai. The city was also a synonym for gambling, prostitution and opium dens, and so fell out of favour during Mao's communist tenure. But seeing as vice is now the flavour of the month Shanghai's back in business. The city's new renaissance is starkly represented by the Pudong area, which mirrors the Bund across the Huangpu river. There the architecture is more modern and definitely more hit-and-miss. The most striking being the Oriental Pearl Tower, which would give Prince Charles an apoplectic fit. But aesthetics aside, Shanghai has advanced dramatically in the last couple of decades (not that I was here 20 years ago, but I've seen before and after pictures).
I suppose that's one benefit of an autocratic state: there's far less discussion and pussyfooting about; when they want something done it gets done. Plus they don't have to worry about pestering NIMBYs and BANANAs interminably holding things up. Two construction projects demonstrate this particularly well: the maglev train that connects the city to the airport and the new deep water port. The maglev train is the fastest in the world and takes only 7 minutes to take its passengers the 30km to the airport, reaching a top speed of 431 km/h as it does so. (It's a German train, but they never managed to build it at home due to constant wranglings about cost and environmental impact.) Well, seeing as I'm here I had to go, so I bought myself a one-way ticket and then took the bus back into town (I wasn't willing to fork out the extra $4 to go back on it!). The deep water port is probably more impressive, but impossible to get to. As there aren't any suitable sites for a port on the coast the government has decided to build one on a cluster of tiny islets ... 30km out to sea! And they've got a road bridge going all the way out there.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Marco's Tip
I've finally made it to the east coast of China and my first stop here is the city of Hangzhou. There is a palpable difference between the east and its people from the west of China. Whereas Kunming and Chengdu were blatantly consumerist Hangzhou has gone far beyond that and is unbelievably bourgeois. Apart from the multitude of trendy bars, clubs and cafes there are the designer label stores and even luxury car showrooms (Bentley, Ferrari, Porsche et al.). But Hangzhou is not crass. It carries this wealth with a certain aristocratic gentility, somehow seeming aloof from the other cities I've visited so far. The beautiful Western Lake with its landscaped parks and intricate causeways forms a focal point for the city and it is the place to see and be seen. Indeed, when Marco Polo passed this way in the late 13th century and he didn't mince his words when he stated that Hangzhou was "beyond dispute the finest and the noblest (city) in the world". Unfortunately the city is mercilessly cashing in on its famed beauty and many of the sights have exorbitant entry fees that, after a while, lessen the allure of the place.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Busman's Holiday
During this past year I have taken countless bus journeys covering many thousands of miles and I believe, in all honesty, that I have become something of a bus connoisseur. I still rave about Argentine buses, but I must admit the Chinese have a novel way of dealing with long, overnight trips. Many people complain that it is hard to get a decent night's sleep, even with the seats tilted back as far as they can go. Well the wily Chinese have got rid of the seats completely and installed bunk beds instead (complete with sheets and blankets), with generally 3 rows of beds, 6 deep. This means that, although you can't really sit all too well, you get a good night's sleep. That is unless you are too tall or too fat or, heaven forbid, both (luckily I'm neither), in which case you're in for a long, uncomfortable ride.
By the way, I have also been tinkering with my site of late and I have now transferred all my pictures to a more user-friendly photo album and converted the old album into a site for audio only. And to inaugurate the fact I have added a new audio track, that of some chanting Tibetan monks.
By the way, I have also been tinkering with my site of late and I have now transferred all my pictures to a more user-friendly photo album and converted the old album into a site for audio only. And to inaugurate the fact I have added a new audio track, that of some chanting Tibetan monks.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Something Old, Something New
Hubei province isn't much of a tourist destination, but it contains two places that I have wanted to see since the start of the trip. The first is the mountain temple complex of Wudang Shan. I've met many people who haven't heard of it, but to any aficionado of kung fu movies they will instantly recognise it as the birthplace of Taijiquan (or T'ai Chi) and the perennial adversary of Shaolin (to hip-hop fans the name may be recognisable due to a famous rap band/posse/crew?). And because everybody goes to the Shaolin monastery I had to check out Wudang Shan and its crazy Taoist monks. The mountain monastery complex (remember, shan means mountain in Chinese) is very pretty with the requisite number of cliffs, peaks and isolated temples, most dating from the 15th century; unfortunately it's undergoing a major refit with tons of workers and scaffolding all around, which slightly detracted from the whole spiritual atmosphere that one expects after seeing the ending of Crouching Tiger. The place was also lacking in T'ai Chi masters jumping buildings in single bounds and fighting evildoers, though the town at the foot of the mountain has a sizeable foreign community made up of new-ager types learning martial arts from local, wizened masters (I even met this Australian guy who was planning to stay for 3 and a half years!). The town also has a nifty street of shops specialising in swords, spears, halberds and other metal, pointy objects whose main purpose is to hurt, maim and dismember (pretty cool actually). However, most people that you ever see practicing T'ai Chi are of the geriatric variety and they don't look very threatening at all. Actually you see a lot of these older T'ai Chi practitioners throughout China, especially in the earlier hours of the morning hogging the parks, and some of them are remarkably supple.
So that's the old. The new is close to the town of Yichang. Never heard of it? I'm not surprised as it's a town of only 4 million inhabitants, which is rather paltry for China (personally I'm intrigued as to what all these people actually do). The town is grim and boring, but it is the gateway to the 3 Gorges Dam, the world's largest construction project. (For the pedants out there the dam will be the largest in the world with the highest peak electricity generation capacity, but will lie in second place behind the Itaipu dam for annual production. That way both will be able to claim to be the biggest.) The sight of it was definitely impressive as it loomed out the haze that has been following me for the past couple of weeks. The haze made it impossible to see the entirety of the dam which gave it an almost ethereal, otherworldly quality. Being the organised fellow that I am I thought I could just turn up and be shown around the construction site by a personal guide ... and I wasn't wrong. Sort of. Officially you have to book on a tour, but the people in the next-door town have a nice little cottage industry going on showing tourists around by taking them through the "back door". So there I was clambering over barbed wire fences and wriggling through holes in walls, which was probably as exciting as seeing the actual building site itself. I'm still undecided about the dam itself. On the plus side it will produce the equivalent of 18 nuclear power stations-worth of electricity, may help ease flooding downstream and allow oceangoing vessels to sail 600km further upstream. On the downside it has hidden what was unarguably one of China's natural wonders and there is a possibility that the whole thing will silt up in the not-too-distant future. But then, that's the price of progress I suppose.
So that's the old. The new is close to the town of Yichang. Never heard of it? I'm not surprised as it's a town of only 4 million inhabitants, which is rather paltry for China (personally I'm intrigued as to what all these people actually do). The town is grim and boring, but it is the gateway to the 3 Gorges Dam, the world's largest construction project. (For the pedants out there the dam will be the largest in the world with the highest peak electricity generation capacity, but will lie in second place behind the Itaipu dam for annual production. That way both will be able to claim to be the biggest.) The sight of it was definitely impressive as it loomed out the haze that has been following me for the past couple of weeks. The haze made it impossible to see the entirety of the dam which gave it an almost ethereal, otherworldly quality. Being the organised fellow that I am I thought I could just turn up and be shown around the construction site by a personal guide ... and I wasn't wrong. Sort of. Officially you have to book on a tour, but the people in the next-door town have a nice little cottage industry going on showing tourists around by taking them through the "back door". So there I was clambering over barbed wire fences and wriggling through holes in walls, which was probably as exciting as seeing the actual building site itself. I'm still undecided about the dam itself. On the plus side it will produce the equivalent of 18 nuclear power stations-worth of electricity, may help ease flooding downstream and allow oceangoing vessels to sail 600km further upstream. On the downside it has hidden what was unarguably one of China's natural wonders and there is a possibility that the whole thing will silt up in the not-too-distant future. But then, that's the price of progress I suppose.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Sleeping Panda, Aching Calves
Hmm, I really think I overdid the Emei Shan descent. I thought I was pressed for time (I needed to catch the last bus) and so I ran down 2000m of steps in 3 hours. My calves don't like me much now. But that doesn't matter, as I have found a hostel in Chengdu with a DVD player and a large selection of films, and so I have decided to spend an extra day here. Chengdu is the capital of Sichuan province, which is almost a country in its own right: it has a dizzying variety of landscapes (from mountains to forests to plains), many ethnic groups, and population-wise it would rank as the 12th biggest country in the world, just after Mexico. And out of all of China's different cuisines, Sichuan's is probably the most widely exported abroad. There is however one local speciality that I have not seen in any Western Chinese restaurants, and that is namely Chengdu's famous hotpot. The hotpot consists of a large pot of stock that bubbles away in the middle of the table whilst the diners place various ingredients (anything from chickens' legs to cabbage) into the cauldron (hubble bubble toil and trouble) before fishing them out a few minutes later. It's quite fun when your in a group, though we were unaware that the stock is always fish-based. Whoops, there goes my allergy.
But Sichuan isn't just about the food. It is also home to one of the most iconic animals on the planet: the giant panda. The range of the cuddly critter lies almost exclusively within Sichuan and the national panda research and breeding facility lies on the outskirts of Chengdu. That was an opportunity that I couldn't pass up, so off I went early in the morning to be able to catch them before they go to sleep for the best part of the day. The place was absolutely warming with tourists (me included, of course), though the locals were managing to be the most annoying by displaying 2 archetypal Chinese traits. The first is the inability to not shout, and the second is their complete disregard for signs. The fact that the signs in question asked for visitors to be quiet so as not to disturb and stress the animals made it even more galling for me. I therefore derived considerable pleasure from pointing out these signs and getting the people to shut up. The pandas themselves lived up to their reputation for cuteness by producing a great many saccharine poses for the cameras. Actually I say that but I was just happy to be there and see them.
But Sichuan isn't just about the food. It is also home to one of the most iconic animals on the planet: the giant panda. The range of the cuddly critter lies almost exclusively within Sichuan and the national panda research and breeding facility lies on the outskirts of Chengdu. That was an opportunity that I couldn't pass up, so off I went early in the morning to be able to catch them before they go to sleep for the best part of the day. The place was absolutely warming with tourists (me included, of course), though the locals were managing to be the most annoying by displaying 2 archetypal Chinese traits. The first is the inability to not shout, and the second is their complete disregard for signs. The fact that the signs in question asked for visitors to be quiet so as not to disturb and stress the animals made it even more galling for me. I therefore derived considerable pleasure from pointing out these signs and getting the people to shut up. The pandas themselves lived up to their reputation for cuteness by producing a great many saccharine poses for the cameras. Actually I say that but I was just happy to be there and see them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)