If you see this thing you may approach, but be warned that he is armed with four months of rambling stories!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Return of the Yeti
Warning! A dangerous creature thought to have been scourged from Canada has been spotted again recently along the Pacific coast - specifically in the Vancouver area of British Columbia.
If you see this thing you may approach, but be warned that he is armed with four months of rambling stories!
If you see this thing you may approach, but be warned that he is armed with four months of rambling stories!
Friday, January 22, 2010
Reinstated! (A Sequel to Suspended)
Technical glitch. That is the stated cause of the major headache today at the airport. After 11 hours waiting for Ontario to wake up, some quick-fingered emails, and a (free) 1-800 Skype call to the travel agent got things rolling. The airline in question tried to say I was a no-show, but we had printouts and customer reps name to prove otherwise. Therefore we will take another crack at it again tomorrow - 24 hours later than the original attempt. Hopefully this will be smoother and we can finally reach Hong Kong, the final Asian destination. Alls well that ends well?
Suspended
Packed, showered, fed. Bidding goodbye to Katherine and Raoul, thanking them for the hospitality, we trek out into the cool city, loaded down with twenty kilos on our backs. Zipping underground, and then whisking through the air over the magnetic field we arrive at the airport. Sliding up the hallway we finally reach the terminal and join the snaking line. Then things go awry.
A confused look flashes across the attendant's face. Rushed words in Mandarin are hissed to her coworkers. With them peering over her shoulder a discussion ensues, at which point Larissa and I exchange a worried glance. I'm informed that there is an issue with my ticket. Unable to get a further explanation I follow their advice and drag my pack directly to Customer Service. However the answers I receive here are unsatisfactory. "Your ticket has been suspended" is all they can tell me before I'm advised to contact my sleeping travel agent (midnight in Ontario). Fighting through the this-can't-be-happening feeling Larissa and I struggle to figure out what to do. Luckily Larissa has yet to check her luggage, so I refuse to purchase a ticket at full fare, push Larissa's flight back 24 hours and return to Katherine's, grateful to at least have a base to return to.
Now the long wait until business hours, eastern standard time, in hopes of resolving this.
... the saga continues.
A confused look flashes across the attendant's face. Rushed words in Mandarin are hissed to her coworkers. With them peering over her shoulder a discussion ensues, at which point Larissa and I exchange a worried glance. I'm informed that there is an issue with my ticket. Unable to get a further explanation I follow their advice and drag my pack directly to Customer Service. However the answers I receive here are unsatisfactory. "Your ticket has been suspended" is all they can tell me before I'm advised to contact my sleeping travel agent (midnight in Ontario). Fighting through the this-can't-be-happening feeling Larissa and I struggle to figure out what to do. Luckily Larissa has yet to check her luggage, so I refuse to purchase a ticket at full fare, push Larissa's flight back 24 hours and return to Katherine's, grateful to at least have a base to return to.
Now the long wait until business hours, eastern standard time, in hopes of resolving this.
... the saga continues.
Chinese Food!
Chinese food.. and not the kind I'm accustomed to. Without much of a background in Chinese cuisine I can't describe it very well beyond my personal experience. This is because most Chinese food is wholly composed of, or at least contains, meat, and being a vegetarian this makes me rather wary. Seeing hunks of meat, or fish for that matter, hanging from trees is a wretched reality for me. Many of these meats end up skewered on a stick, roasted over embers, and consumed by anyone on the sidewalk - tentacles and all. There is one delicious treat-on-a-stick that I can rave about though. Candied haw. Think candy-apple. Shrink the fruit and make it a bit mushier. Replace the core with largish seeds. Pop five or six 'haws', a winter-time fruit, on each stick and voila. A damn sweet snack, anytime of day, coming in at 17 cents a stick. Seeds are often mistaken for candy so chew carefully! (That problem is avoided by opting for the equally delicious candied strawberry, or augmented by the candied haw rolled in sunflower seeds.)
Dumplings, be they steamed or boiled, are omnipresent too. Walking down the street you'll pass streetside stalls specializing in serving up these bite-sized snacks. Problem is that I was warned that basically every dumpling contains dead animal flesh and I can't read the Chinese characters on the menu to verify this. Luckily I did stumble across 'Lily's Dumplings' where Lily herself not only handed me an English menu, but also addressed me with a "Hello". Dousing my veggie dumplings in a mixture of dark vinegar and spice I enjoyed each sloppy wet bite, reminiscent of boiled perogies, with much more than a hint of garlic. Washing them down with a couple Red Fang beers only added to the experience. Including a tomato soup that could feed a small Chinese family we plopped down only 50 kuai (under $9) for the whole meal.
The abundance of street food always entices me, but for aforementioned reasons I usually can't partake. There are a few things I've spotted that looked reasonably safe. One I ate yesterday was essentially an omelette prepared on one side of a pancake. Served piping hot, fresh off the griddle, it was well worth $0.40.
Similarly I sampled another doughy concoction I'd spotted. Indicating that I'd like one the lady pulled a wad of raw dough, smacked it on the flat, hot, metal surface and it began cooking (frying?). Next she pointed to a menu, completely in Chinese except for numbers beside the symbol I could now recognize as meaning yuan (Chinese dollars). Shrugging I point to the most expensive option since it was under 50 cents anyway, but immediately wave her off as she produces a wiener from her magical cart. Putting it away she indicates toward the menu again. I respond with a blank look and decide to have a peek for myself. I go around to see what she's got in the stall and spotting cucumbers first I decide on them. The dough finishes on the first side and gets flipped, smeared with mayo, ketchup and a melange of powdered spices. In goes the cucumber before being wrapped up and presented to a very skeptical me. Maybe it was hunger, perhaps it was simply fried dough and mayo, but it was surprisingly tasty.
What else have I had?
Hot pot - a make-your-own hearty soup meal similar to the meal that took me by surprise in Thailand, with at least 20 possible dipping sauces which kept me busy trying a smörgåsbord of combinations of those. There was a similar station on the street which we stopped at out of desperation. In a bowl we placed mushrooms, greens and sticks of tofu we picked off a wall of produce and handed them to the lady standing at the steaming vat out front. Seating ourselves at a table a very large bowl of oily, spicy 'soup', filled with all our choices was soon served. Rather tasty we thought it was worth at least 20 yuan but had no way of asking so I handed her a hundred yuan bill, and was amazed, and slightly embarrassed when she gave me 94 in change. Deal!
Faux meat. There have been a couple places that make "are you SURE this isn't meat?" dishes that we've come across. The first, in Beijing, with pork riblets, complete with mushy edible 'bones', was rather gross. The next was a surprisingly tasty peanut 'chicken' dish - and I mastered using chopsticks to pick up individual nuts too!
China has proven to be the most difficult place to nourish ourselves (outside of Western friendly Shanghai), with it not being uncommon for Larissa and I to wander the streets in search of a warm dish for a full hour before settling. This is one reason why our breakfast for two weeks straight consisted of only buttery baked goods - the other reason being that danishes and croissants are yummy.
In one particulary wretched incident we figured there'd be plenty near Tiananmen Square only to find ourselves still searching, incredibly hungry, after nearly two hours. With 'give up' not being an option (there wasn't even a McDonalds or pizza joint to fill the void) we eventually found a noodle shop with an English menu. The bowl of noodles and tofu, hidden in a soupy liquid broth, was surprisingly tasty, but that may have been the hunger talking. We left when the drunk (we think) Chinese lady descended on me having finished making a scene (in English) with the other white guy in the restaurant.
Despite this long list of foods, it has been compiled after a full month in the country. Suffice it to say, I'm pretty sick of the two dishes that were quite often the only ones available to me: pizza and pasta.
Dumplings, be they steamed or boiled, are omnipresent too. Walking down the street you'll pass streetside stalls specializing in serving up these bite-sized snacks. Problem is that I was warned that basically every dumpling contains dead animal flesh and I can't read the Chinese characters on the menu to verify this. Luckily I did stumble across 'Lily's Dumplings' where Lily herself not only handed me an English menu, but also addressed me with a "Hello". Dousing my veggie dumplings in a mixture of dark vinegar and spice I enjoyed each sloppy wet bite, reminiscent of boiled perogies, with much more than a hint of garlic. Washing them down with a couple Red Fang beers only added to the experience. Including a tomato soup that could feed a small Chinese family we plopped down only 50 kuai (under $9) for the whole meal.
The abundance of street food always entices me, but for aforementioned reasons I usually can't partake. There are a few things I've spotted that looked reasonably safe. One I ate yesterday was essentially an omelette prepared on one side of a pancake. Served piping hot, fresh off the griddle, it was well worth $0.40.
Similarly I sampled another doughy concoction I'd spotted. Indicating that I'd like one the lady pulled a wad of raw dough, smacked it on the flat, hot, metal surface and it began cooking (frying?). Next she pointed to a menu, completely in Chinese except for numbers beside the symbol I could now recognize as meaning yuan (Chinese dollars). Shrugging I point to the most expensive option since it was under 50 cents anyway, but immediately wave her off as she produces a wiener from her magical cart. Putting it away she indicates toward the menu again. I respond with a blank look and decide to have a peek for myself. I go around to see what she's got in the stall and spotting cucumbers first I decide on them. The dough finishes on the first side and gets flipped, smeared with mayo, ketchup and a melange of powdered spices. In goes the cucumber before being wrapped up and presented to a very skeptical me. Maybe it was hunger, perhaps it was simply fried dough and mayo, but it was surprisingly tasty.
What else have I had?
Hot pot - a make-your-own hearty soup meal similar to the meal that took me by surprise in Thailand, with at least 20 possible dipping sauces which kept me busy trying a smörgåsbord of combinations of those. There was a similar station on the street which we stopped at out of desperation. In a bowl we placed mushrooms, greens and sticks of tofu we picked off a wall of produce and handed them to the lady standing at the steaming vat out front. Seating ourselves at a table a very large bowl of oily, spicy 'soup', filled with all our choices was soon served. Rather tasty we thought it was worth at least 20 yuan but had no way of asking so I handed her a hundred yuan bill, and was amazed, and slightly embarrassed when she gave me 94 in change. Deal!
Faux meat. There have been a couple places that make "are you SURE this isn't meat?" dishes that we've come across. The first, in Beijing, with pork riblets, complete with mushy edible 'bones', was rather gross. The next was a surprisingly tasty peanut 'chicken' dish - and I mastered using chopsticks to pick up individual nuts too!
China has proven to be the most difficult place to nourish ourselves (outside of Western friendly Shanghai), with it not being uncommon for Larissa and I to wander the streets in search of a warm dish for a full hour before settling. This is one reason why our breakfast for two weeks straight consisted of only buttery baked goods - the other reason being that danishes and croissants are yummy.
In one particulary wretched incident we figured there'd be plenty near Tiananmen Square only to find ourselves still searching, incredibly hungry, after nearly two hours. With 'give up' not being an option (there wasn't even a McDonalds or pizza joint to fill the void) we eventually found a noodle shop with an English menu. The bowl of noodles and tofu, hidden in a soupy liquid broth, was surprisingly tasty, but that may have been the hunger talking. We left when the drunk (we think) Chinese lady descended on me having finished making a scene (in English) with the other white guy in the restaurant.
Despite this long list of foods, it has been compiled after a full month in the country. Suffice it to say, I'm pretty sick of the two dishes that were quite often the only ones available to me: pizza and pasta.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The Appropriately Titled 'Great Wall' (Part 2 of 2)
As the bus meandered further into the countryside, it became less busy and granted us a prime seat to watch the transition from urban to rural to mountainous. These roughly shaped, rugged mountains rose and fell as we drove past - seeing their coniferous tree-covered southern side on our approach, and the staggered shadowed backside under crisp blue skies while moving along. Perhaps an hour passed until there were only a few stragglers remaining on the bus, including a friendly Chinese man who was teaching me how to say 'Great Wall' just as it came into view rising up one of the aforementioned mountainsides in the distance. It was a sight even from this distance and my anticipation only grew as we drove nearer. Eventually stopping, at the end of the route, the driver motioned which direction we were to go and we waved our appreciation as we hurried off this way up the road (back into the chilly cold after the warmth of the bus).
From the get-go we were in awe of it and were practically running in order to reach it; across the top of a tall dam with thick, black ice on the one side and open, frigid but liquid water far below. On the other side a faded sign read 'This section of the wall is closed due to restoration. Entry is Forbidden' courtesy of the Chinese government, but we breezed past it to get within reach of the wall. That seemed as far as we could get though, as there was no obvious way to mount it. At the end of the snowy path that had led us to the wall was a window, barred with rusty wire-wrapped logs wedged into it, while the lip of the wall loomed a good 6m overhead.
Not about to give up I bashed the lowest log out of the way and squirmed inside the hollow before Larissa had a chance to protest. She followed me into this room housed inside the wall, not wanting to be left behind. However exiting via an empty doorway on the other side there was only a slight glimmer of hope (but no shining stairway by any means). Standing at the base I drew my eyes up a rather steep, wet (and hence slippery) rocky cliff to the wall's top. In my head it looked feasible, so I attacked it. Only a couple steps up, the going was tougher than anticipated, and the wail of a siren in the nearby village, matched by those of dogs, startled me and I turned to exit quickly, having my jacket ripped by the long, prickly thorn bushes littering the hillside.
Back to the side we'd begun on, with the siren having stopped, I regained composure and decided to try once again. Following the base of the wall, I dug in, grasping at roots and branches along the way to keep from slipping back down to where Larissa had decided to wait for me to explore first. Quite the struggle ensued for me to traverse only 30m, which allowed me to round the corner, but again I was crestfallen as the wall streamed away from me - still no way up! Actually in the distance I could see the remains of a metal ladder that had previously allowed access, but it was rusted out, broken in half and pushed over in the snow. Drat!
I would have returned hanging my head, except I was too busy trying to stay upright as the loose gravel gave way under the snow beneath my feet and I slid on my bum all the way back to an expectant Larissa. Explaining the situation we were bordering on despair. The situation was this: we'd spent all day just getting to this point so neither of us wanted to leave without getting on the wall, but we'd tried all the obvious options and had been unsuccessful. It was a tough decision but in the end we resigned ourselves to trying the even less promising wall on the other side of the dam.
We turned to go and were ten steps in when Larissa suggested "Wait - why don't we try following the trail that was on the other side, through the window?" Anxious to get her back through the window once more (as I figured with more resolve I could climb that cliff) we crossed back over once again. Looking at the path it seemed to lead away from the wall, down the hill and toward the barking dogs. More confidence in my original plan I began with hardened determination to climb the prickly cliffs once more. It was tough going but after a few minutes I'd managed to get to the midway point and figured I could get the rest of the way - though wasn't sure Larissa would be willing to go through what I had to get there. Turning toward her to attempt to coax her up after me I found an empty spot where I'd left her. I called out but could hear no response. "Larissa?! Where are you?" Silence.
Straining to hear her a minute passed and then another. Calling again I had no response and filled with worry started climbing down once more. At this point I hear an exclaim from above me. Above me?! I twirl around and see a patch of pink through the bushes way higher up and hear Larissa call to me. Finally reaching her through the scraggly bush I find her smiling on a perfectly clear path. As she explained, she'd followed the path down the hill for a minute, given when she saw it did indeed lead down to the village, and turned to return, only to come face to face with an arrow inscribed on a rock. Up the trail she'd gone and that's when I'd heard her.
Taking the nice path up it was only a minute more and we climbed over the rail and onto the crumbling old bricks of China's 2000+ year old wall, made of combined city walls. It was a triumphant moment finally stepping foot onto it and we both broke out wide smiles while taking in the glorious views around us. We walked over a kilometer in one direction, nearly straight uphill, passing through many old watchtowers and peering out at the relay towers dotting the mountains in the distance. We didn't want to stop, even though the going was tough, as many times we were forced to climb on all fours, nervous that the old bricks would give way under our feet, and went downhill on our behinds since the inclines were intense. Only able to spend a few hours, breathing deeply for the first time in China, we agreed that we both could easily spend a day up there, despite the cold wind. A true highlight of our trip to China, it surpassed our expectations and was absolutely worth the bus hassles, wet pants and thorn scratches. The view was indescribable - breathtaking - so I'll allow these pictures to tackle that job
From the get-go we were in awe of it and were practically running in order to reach it; across the top of a tall dam with thick, black ice on the one side and open, frigid but liquid water far below. On the other side a faded sign read 'This section of the wall is closed due to restoration. Entry is Forbidden' courtesy of the Chinese government, but we breezed past it to get within reach of the wall. That seemed as far as we could get though, as there was no obvious way to mount it. At the end of the snowy path that had led us to the wall was a window, barred with rusty wire-wrapped logs wedged into it, while the lip of the wall loomed a good 6m overhead.
Not about to give up I bashed the lowest log out of the way and squirmed inside the hollow before Larissa had a chance to protest. She followed me into this room housed inside the wall, not wanting to be left behind. However exiting via an empty doorway on the other side there was only a slight glimmer of hope (but no shining stairway by any means). Standing at the base I drew my eyes up a rather steep, wet (and hence slippery) rocky cliff to the wall's top. In my head it looked feasible, so I attacked it. Only a couple steps up, the going was tougher than anticipated, and the wail of a siren in the nearby village, matched by those of dogs, startled me and I turned to exit quickly, having my jacket ripped by the long, prickly thorn bushes littering the hillside.
Back to the side we'd begun on, with the siren having stopped, I regained composure and decided to try once again. Following the base of the wall, I dug in, grasping at roots and branches along the way to keep from slipping back down to where Larissa had decided to wait for me to explore first. Quite the struggle ensued for me to traverse only 30m, which allowed me to round the corner, but again I was crestfallen as the wall streamed away from me - still no way up! Actually in the distance I could see the remains of a metal ladder that had previously allowed access, but it was rusted out, broken in half and pushed over in the snow. Drat!
I would have returned hanging my head, except I was too busy trying to stay upright as the loose gravel gave way under the snow beneath my feet and I slid on my bum all the way back to an expectant Larissa. Explaining the situation we were bordering on despair. The situation was this: we'd spent all day just getting to this point so neither of us wanted to leave without getting on the wall, but we'd tried all the obvious options and had been unsuccessful. It was a tough decision but in the end we resigned ourselves to trying the even less promising wall on the other side of the dam.
We turned to go and were ten steps in when Larissa suggested "Wait - why don't we try following the trail that was on the other side, through the window?" Anxious to get her back through the window once more (as I figured with more resolve I could climb that cliff) we crossed back over once again. Looking at the path it seemed to lead away from the wall, down the hill and toward the barking dogs. More confidence in my original plan I began with hardened determination to climb the prickly cliffs once more. It was tough going but after a few minutes I'd managed to get to the midway point and figured I could get the rest of the way - though wasn't sure Larissa would be willing to go through what I had to get there. Turning toward her to attempt to coax her up after me I found an empty spot where I'd left her. I called out but could hear no response. "Larissa?! Where are you?" Silence.
Straining to hear her a minute passed and then another. Calling again I had no response and filled with worry started climbing down once more. At this point I hear an exclaim from above me. Above me?! I twirl around and see a patch of pink through the bushes way higher up and hear Larissa call to me. Finally reaching her through the scraggly bush I find her smiling on a perfectly clear path. As she explained, she'd followed the path down the hill for a minute, given when she saw it did indeed lead down to the village, and turned to return, only to come face to face with an arrow inscribed on a rock. Up the trail she'd gone and that's when I'd heard her.
Taking the nice path up it was only a minute more and we climbed over the rail and onto the crumbling old bricks of China's 2000+ year old wall, made of combined city walls. It was a triumphant moment finally stepping foot onto it and we both broke out wide smiles while taking in the glorious views around us. We walked over a kilometer in one direction, nearly straight uphill, passing through many old watchtowers and peering out at the relay towers dotting the mountains in the distance. We didn't want to stop, even though the going was tough, as many times we were forced to climb on all fours, nervous that the old bricks would give way under our feet, and went downhill on our behinds since the inclines were intense. Only able to spend a few hours, breathing deeply for the first time in China, we agreed that we both could easily spend a day up there, despite the cold wind. A true highlight of our trip to China, it surpassed our expectations and was absolutely worth the bus hassles, wet pants and thorn scratches. The view was indescribable - breathtaking - so I'll allow these pictures to tackle that job
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Appropriately Titled "Great Wall" (Part 1)
Starting out early it wasn't until our now ritual breakfast stop for high-calorie bakery goods that we nailed down which of the few options we would take for our day in Beijing. Larissa suggested we get on that Great Wall before the temperature took a further nosedive (and she would be right) so I naturally chose the most obscure place to mount the wall possible and directed us there. The subway in Beijing is extensive, cheap, crowded but not insanely so and basically pretty awesome so the first leg of the trip was a breeze. At the long-distance bus station we ignored the advice of a Chinese lady to go to another more 'restored' section of the wall and walked up to the express bus we wanted just as it was pulling up. Pleased with the way things were going we grabbed some comfy seats and stripped down as the driver was blasting the heat to combat the freezing temperatures outside (the direct sunlight beaming through the window added a few degrees to our mobile oven too). Despite Chinglish announcements about the upcoming stop I was nervous that I wouldn't recognize the Chinese name for the stop where we needed to transfer to a minibus, and that we'd miss it entirely. That anxiousness coupled with the heat temporarily skewed my judgement so when a man came up to us and hurriedly told us we were at the transfer stop for the Great Wall I believed him and followed him off the bus.
Instant regret.
As our bus pulled away this man was more than ready to offer us an expensive taxi ride to the Great Wall - different 'tourist' sections that we weren't particularly interested in. However he also informed us that our desired spot was under construction and inaccessible to tourists, which worried us some more as it was backed up by a few more individuals nearby (also cab drivers). Indecision between Larissa and I as we stood roadside. Not wanting to waste our time but also not wanting to get ripped off I attempted negotiations which went no where so my sister and I boldly charged off in the direction of town, hoping to rectify the situation. It was a decent hike, during which we turned down a handful more expensive rides and soldiered on to the center of town. Still wondering how to get there I went to a busy bus stop and attempted to find a connection that would take us to a town that I quickly learned the Chinese pronunciation for (as I had to repeat it 168 times).
The first few Chinese bus stoppers I approached would hardly look at me, but just before despair set in a local man said something to us in Mandarin - an offer to help? - so I showed him the Chinese characters for our desired town and he nodded. I took this nod as an indication that he could assist us by pointing out the bus, though after 10 minutes I was losing fate. At least it was sunny on this side of the street keeping us warm. Nearly twenty buses and even more vans and minibuses had passed us by before the man waved us alongside him to an approaching auto. As we boarded I double checked with the ticket attendant but she viciously shook her head and directed us back to the sidewalk completely deflated as our last hope boarded the bus and drove away.
Exhausted with the process I was on the verge of giving up (and Larissa was probably well past that point but had realized its sometimes best to give me my space at times like these), however as I stood by the bus contemplating our next move a friendly older lady shot me a smile and a curious look at my Lonely Planet tucked under my arm. Worth a shot. I opened to the page and pointed at "Huang Hua." Her reaction was enthusiastic and gave me hope. So much hope that I would wait, and wait and wait some more while she continued to look up the street at buses that never seemed to be the right ones. Over half an hour passed and no bus for us - when I approached buses to check with the driver where they were going this lady would get angry with me for not believing her that it wasn't the one for us.
Perhaps 40 minutes later a taxi driver approached us offering a ride. Glancing at my watch I knew that we had to get a move on so I began friendly negotiations with him. These didn't please the lady one bit and according to Larissa this lady kept making sour faces towards her regarding the taxi driver. His price continued to be ridiculous so I prayed that this lady was gonna come through. And then I thought she did as she stepped towards a bus, but when I followed she indicated it wasn't for us!
Exasperated I cried out (in English) "We've waited all this time and have no idea which bus is coming for us!" She must have caught my understanding despite the words and let her bus leave the platform as she returned to our side. Turning back to the taxi a few minutes later I tried again, but by now we were a spectacle as all the people at the bus stop (and there were a bunch of them) were onlooking on our plight, and the back and forth with the taxi driver. Nearly succombing to his inordinate demands I looked up and saw a smile on our lady's face. Our bus was coming!
She didn't need to tell me since the entire crowd started waving and motioning to the bus, many saying "Huang Hua" and smiling at us. Verifying with the driver, we were relieved that it was indeed going our way, and so we crammed into the aisle (as the seats were all full) and snuck a smile to the disappointed taxi driver standing on the sidewalk as we pulled away.
It had been nearly 2 hours since we'd been hauled off the bus early but we were finally on our way. Only two stops later I noticed our helpful old Chinese lady disembarking, and told Larissa. We truly hoped that we hadn't disrupted her whole plan and tried to express our deepest thanks while the bus pulled away with sincere smiles and waves of thanks through the window. Managing to catch her eye, her return smile showed us that she was more than happy to have helped.
For the not so dramatic, but much more beautiful ending to this saga please stay tuned. When we return to Shanghai on the 19th I plan on completing the story. Until then...
Instant regret.
As our bus pulled away this man was more than ready to offer us an expensive taxi ride to the Great Wall - different 'tourist' sections that we weren't particularly interested in. However he also informed us that our desired spot was under construction and inaccessible to tourists, which worried us some more as it was backed up by a few more individuals nearby (also cab drivers). Indecision between Larissa and I as we stood roadside. Not wanting to waste our time but also not wanting to get ripped off I attempted negotiations which went no where so my sister and I boldly charged off in the direction of town, hoping to rectify the situation. It was a decent hike, during which we turned down a handful more expensive rides and soldiered on to the center of town. Still wondering how to get there I went to a busy bus stop and attempted to find a connection that would take us to a town that I quickly learned the Chinese pronunciation for (as I had to repeat it 168 times).
The first few Chinese bus stoppers I approached would hardly look at me, but just before despair set in a local man said something to us in Mandarin - an offer to help? - so I showed him the Chinese characters for our desired town and he nodded. I took this nod as an indication that he could assist us by pointing out the bus, though after 10 minutes I was losing fate. At least it was sunny on this side of the street keeping us warm. Nearly twenty buses and even more vans and minibuses had passed us by before the man waved us alongside him to an approaching auto. As we boarded I double checked with the ticket attendant but she viciously shook her head and directed us back to the sidewalk completely deflated as our last hope boarded the bus and drove away.
Exhausted with the process I was on the verge of giving up (and Larissa was probably well past that point but had realized its sometimes best to give me my space at times like these), however as I stood by the bus contemplating our next move a friendly older lady shot me a smile and a curious look at my Lonely Planet tucked under my arm. Worth a shot. I opened to the page and pointed at "Huang Hua." Her reaction was enthusiastic and gave me hope. So much hope that I would wait, and wait and wait some more while she continued to look up the street at buses that never seemed to be the right ones. Over half an hour passed and no bus for us - when I approached buses to check with the driver where they were going this lady would get angry with me for not believing her that it wasn't the one for us.
Perhaps 40 minutes later a taxi driver approached us offering a ride. Glancing at my watch I knew that we had to get a move on so I began friendly negotiations with him. These didn't please the lady one bit and according to Larissa this lady kept making sour faces towards her regarding the taxi driver. His price continued to be ridiculous so I prayed that this lady was gonna come through. And then I thought she did as she stepped towards a bus, but when I followed she indicated it wasn't for us!
Exasperated I cried out (in English) "We've waited all this time and have no idea which bus is coming for us!" She must have caught my understanding despite the words and let her bus leave the platform as she returned to our side. Turning back to the taxi a few minutes later I tried again, but by now we were a spectacle as all the people at the bus stop (and there were a bunch of them) were onlooking on our plight, and the back and forth with the taxi driver. Nearly succombing to his inordinate demands I looked up and saw a smile on our lady's face. Our bus was coming!
She didn't need to tell me since the entire crowd started waving and motioning to the bus, many saying "Huang Hua" and smiling at us. Verifying with the driver, we were relieved that it was indeed going our way, and so we crammed into the aisle (as the seats were all full) and snuck a smile to the disappointed taxi driver standing on the sidewalk as we pulled away.
It had been nearly 2 hours since we'd been hauled off the bus early but we were finally on our way. Only two stops later I noticed our helpful old Chinese lady disembarking, and told Larissa. We truly hoped that we hadn't disrupted her whole plan and tried to express our deepest thanks while the bus pulled away with sincere smiles and waves of thanks through the window. Managing to catch her eye, her return smile showed us that she was more than happy to have helped.
For the not so dramatic, but much more beautiful ending to this saga please stay tuned. When we return to Shanghai on the 19th I plan on completing the story. Until then...
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