The Road to China Pt. 2, AKA , OMG! OMG! OMG! I'm in China

Well I am now in the country where about 18% of the Earth's human population currently resides. I have effectively gotten around the government censors in the town of Dali so I can access my blog (for now). I'm staying at a guesthouse which must have a proxy server set up. Wow is this place beautiful, though I'm not ready to talk about Dali yet.

I awoke early on April First (no kidding) and walked down the road to the bus station in Ousomxay. I was hoping to catch a direct bus to Jinghong, a small city about four hours past the border into China, but that route wasn't running so I settled for the bus to Mengla. This was my first taste of Chinese culture shock, as most of the passengers seemed to be Chinese. Two things that I just can't seem to get past are the incessant hawking of loogies, and the comedically loud way they speak on their cell phones. Does anyone remember that bit from Trigger Happy TV, the late Comedy Central show, in which a man walks around shouting into a giant cell phone? It's like that.

Anyways, the bus got to the border around noon. I checked out of Laos at their quaint little border office, reboarded the bus, then checked into China 2 km down the road at their frighteningly modern office. With no hitches, I got back on the bus and we pulled away into China. Some interesting things I took note of in the two hours between the border at Mohan and Mengla: Although the landscape is similar to that of Northern Laos (slightly less-rugged Karst mountains), the architecture of the villages changed from the typical thatched palm and rattan stilted homes to concrete or cinderblock boxes with tin rooves. Also, the road here was amazingly modern with several dozen long tunnels built through mountains. I imagine that the journey we completed in two hours might have taken about seven in past times.

The Laos border with China

The hills were covered with terraces harboring rubber trees which were quite picturesque, and of course the regular old rice paddies. When the bus wasn't overtaking a truck and nearly barreling into oncoming traffic, I enjoyed gazing upon the hills.

So the bus pulled into the Mengla bus station and I got another wave of culture shock. I walked into the ticket office to catch an onward bus to Jinghong, looked around, and realized that nothing was written in roman script; everything was in Chinese (and yes, you may say, "But Brett, you are in China, what did you expect?", to which I would reply that up until this point in my journey, there was always some form of translation into English, or at least transliteration into Roman characters). I think you can attribute this to the fact that the transportation infrastructure in most SE Asian countries is geared for Western travelers, but in China, many of the locals have money to travel within the country and therefore it is geared to the Chinese traveler.

I walked up to the counter and just said 'Jinghong', my intended destination. The woman working the counter peppered me with a spray of Mandarin at which I just smiled. I gave her a 50 yuan note hoping that would cover the cost, which it did. I did regain some dignity by saying 'Xeixie', or 'thank you' in Mandarin, which I had conveniently learned from the Lonely Planet book.

Another two hour bus ride and I was in Jinghong. I wandered the city trying to follow my guidebook map, which seemed to have some inaccuracies. I got a bit lost, and whereas in SE Asia I would have had at least a few other Westerners to follow off of the bus, I was alone in a Chinese city. Somehow I did manage to stumble into the small traveler zone and a French guy, owner of the Mekong Cafe in Jinghong, helped me find a place to stay and translated for me. I settled down in my room and reflected on how much more difficult it will be to travel in China than it has been in any previous country I have traveled, then went out and got an old familiar Beer Lao at the Mekong Cafe and spoke with the owner for a while.

I had hoped to leave the next day as this city did not hold to much appeal to me, but I learned that they no longer offered overnight bus service to Dali, my next destination, so I would have to wait until the next morning to leave. I did my best to enjoy Jinghong for a day, hitting the city on foot and admiring the foreigness of this place. It's like Chinatown in SF times a million. Here was one of the more interesting sights:

perhaps it's just my squeamish western sensibilities,
but does anyone else notice something wrong with this picture?

I found my way to the botanical gardens, the main tourist draw in Jinghong. Tsvet and Brenda, I thought of you. Though there were lots of people there, they all rode around the park on electic cars, so I had the place to myself on foot.

A really big version of a plant that I used to have

A Durian tree, Durian being the smelliest fruit in the world in my experience

I spent the rest of the day walking and drinking coffee and bought my bus ticket to Dali for the morning. And oh, what an adventure the next 24 hours would be, but I'll wait to tell you about that.

bridge over the Mekong (they call it something else here)

On another note, I have made some plans for my travel over the next couple months. Iceland Air offers cheap flights across the Atlantic with a stopoff in Iceland so they can try to boost the economy through tourism; I bought a ticket from London, Heathrow leaving June 3 for Reykjavík, then flying on June 9 from there to Boston to visit my cousin Lisa. I will meet Robbie in Chicago on June 13, arriving by Greyhound probably, and we will take the train to Flagstaff for Sara and Dan's wedding.

As for the more immediate future, I expect to be in the Yunnan province of China for the next two weeks (I hope to get as far North as Deqin, which is at the foot of a nearly 7,000 meter peak just over the border from Tibet) before taking a two-day train to Beijing and then taking the Trans-Mongolian/Trans-Siberian Railway from there into the West.


So Ni hou, I'm in China, and I'll be seeing everyone soonish.

On the Road Again

In an effort to get to the heart of my trip (Cambodia/Laos) more quickly, I bought a one way ticket to Hat Yai in southern Thailand. I boarded a train departing on February 23 at 21:30. The sleeper seats were sold out, so it was a rough night of fleeting sleep in a coach about half full with Russians, chatty old Indians drinking whiskey, a Japanese hippie, a dutch guy, and even a couple genuine Malaysians! I awoke from my shallow slumber shivering a couple times, having to put on another layer to protect me from the frigid AC. I knew there was a reason for carrying a bulky sweater to the equatorial regions!

Time passing as it does on an overnight train, we arrived around 10:00 in the morning in Hat Yai, about 45 minutes past the Thai-Malay border where they checked me out of Malaysia and the Thai officials gave me a 15-day pass to enjoy their beautiful country. Upon arrival, I joined forces with the Japanese passenger, Gon, who was also heading to Bangkok. We bought our tickets to BK on a sleeper train that didn't leave until 18:45. Thusly, we checked our bags at the station and set about exploring this little city a bit.

We grabbed a quick meal of rice and chicken curry at a street vendor, with the bill coming to 25 baht (just under one USD). We ambled aimlessly after that, dodging motos and tuktuks, soon coming to Chinatown and the frantic stalls spilling out into the street from storefronts. When you have 8 hours to kill in an unknown foreign city, you will do anything to eat up time. We caught up on some internet time, stopped in for some Chang beer at a small restaurant, sat on the steps of the bus station napping and watching the young army recruits march around, then grabbed some more food (again, sticky rice and whatever dish looks appealing).

Finally we had done it! We had successfully wasted 8 hours and it was time to board the next train. Gon and I split up into separate cars. The sleeper cars were comfortable enough. What you have is banks of two seats facing each other. The seats fold down into one bed, and then another bed folds down from the ceiling. I would advise any future travelers on this route to reserve the lower berth, as you get a wider sleeping surface, no risk of falling out, and a window! As it were, I was stuck in the upper berth, which felt more like a plastic coffin than a bed. Nevertheless, I quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the night before.

Also quite interesting were the toilets, which had an added feature: when you flush them, you get a quick glimpse of the tracks passing beneath the train.

Once again, time passed quickly on the night train, and soon it was morning. We folded up the beds and I set about looking out the window, hoping I hadn't slept through Bangkok. Bangkok, however, was the end of the line, and around 13:00, I was turned loose into this bustling city, to set my bearings and hopefully learn something about myself and the world (that is, after all, why we travel of course).

And for the next installment: Bangkok (!)