Beijing's Summer Palace
The Summer Palace undoubtedly is one of Beijing's highlights. It has nearly 900 years of history, during which many emperors have used the park and its fabulous pagodas as a summer retreat.
Beijing's Lantern Festival Fireworks
The New Year fireworks in China make the largest Fourth of July displays in the US look like child's play. And rather than just one or two nights, the festivities continue for over two weeks. The fifteenth day of the new year marks the Lantern Festival. Supposedly this is a traditional holiday where people carried red lanterns to temples, symbolically letting go of their past selves. But this year in Beijing, all I saw were fireworks. Lots of them, spread all over the city. The rumbles and explosions echoed off of buildings for six hours straight. Here's a short video to give you an idea of what it was like:
Xian's Muslim Quarter, Part I
Xian's Muslim Quarter is a fascinating place. Located in the heart of the city, pedestrians pour into the streets every night to buy food and to people-watch. Some vendors shout to get your attention, others blast music from outdoor speakers. Not many cars brave the streets, but plenty of rickshaws and motorcycles force their way through the crowds, honking their horns the entire time. It's a loud and brash environment, and the energy is intoxicating. Most tourists only come to Xian to see the Terracotta Warriors, but you should also take some time to walk through the Muslim Quarter.
Seeing the Terracotta Warriors
In 1974 some farmers were digging a water well near Xi'an, China. They accidentally made one of the greatest archeological discoveries of the twentieth century, the terracotta army of China's first emperor, Qin Shi Huang (秦始皇). Construction of the necropolis began shortly after Qin Shi Huang rose to power at age 13 in 246 BC. By the time of his death in 210 BC, the three pits containing the Terracotta Army contained 8000 soldiers, 130 chariots with 510 horses and 150 cavalry horses. This army was built to accompany the emperor in the afterlife.
I spent most of a day visiting the Terracotta Army. For me, the site lived up to the hype. The most impressive part was the minute level of detail. Every soldier had a unique face. Each strand of hair was individually carved. There was even tread on the bottoms of their shoes. Besides the opportunity to look at the soldiers themselves, there was a lot of information about the history of the army and its discovery. In fact, the Terracotta Army was one of my favorite sites in all of China.
The Pandas are Ling-Ling-Liscious!
The more I travel, the less I like zoos. The magic of seeing animals in cages is gone, especially when said cages are far too small for the megafauna they're housing. So it was with much reservation that I decided to visit the Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding in Chengdu, China. I just couldn't resist the draw of so many pandas in one place.
Luckily, from the moment I stepped inside, I could tell this was more than just a zoo. There were lakes and gardens and wide walkways, lined with bamboo. There was even a museum that informed visitors of the history of giant pandas and of conservation efforts. But of course, I had come to see the pandas. What were they like?
A Chinese Tour of Jiuzhaigou National Park
...I found a group of women from my tour and they invited me to have lunch with them, near the edge of one of the lakes. They were extremely nice and insisted that I take their food. I ate pig spine and chicken gizzard. They refused to try my peanut butter. I looked around and noticed that they were all enjoying themselves immensely. Maybe, just maybe, I was beginning to understand something about Chinese culture: This was exactly the nature experience most Chinese wanted. They valued shared experiences, something they could talk about later with each other. And they wanted to observe nature from afar, like they were watching it on a really high definition TV. Whereas I (and most Westerners, I imagine), wanted to be a part of nature, to walk through it alone, to listen to the chirping of birds and the blowing of wind, to feel snow crunching under my boots, to smell the flowers, to camp outdoors, to really take it all in, not just look at it. Maybe that was why I was frustrated and everyone else seemed happy.
Two Hundred Miles as the Mole Burrows
The three of us boarded a train bound for Kunming, a small city of three million, about five hours away. Our tickets were for a sleeper car, with beds stacked three high. But instead of using all of the bunks, everyone sat on the bottom one, four to a bed. I ignored this convention and went straight to the top bunk, where I organized my backpack. Soon I felt a yank on my foot, and then I heard a continuous, angry shout. I turned around and saw a train employee who reminded me of Nurse Ratched. Apparently, the “convention” of sitting on the bottom bed was actually a “rule.” After I climbed down, Nurse Rached yelled at me some more, then stormed off. Per an eery custom in China, everyone else around us was locked into a distant gaze, as if completely unaware of the scene unfolding before them.
Can you really pay to be a guest?
There were no cockroaches on my overnight train ride to Lau Cai, on the Chinese border. As soon as I stepped off the train, I, along with every other passenger, was hounded by bus drivers looking to take us to Sapa. I bargained one driver from 100,000 dong to 50,000. He put his index finger over his lips and said, “Shh” as I paid him. Apparently he didn't want me to tell any of the other passengers that they had gotten ripped off. Or maybe they had paid even less than I had, and the driver didn't want me to find out. In Vietnam, one never knows.
The Streets of Old Hanoi
At last we arrived in Hanoi. This was to be Katie's final destination in Vietnam, and the beginning of my solo overland trip to Beijing. We stayed in the Old Quarter, a small section in the middle of the city. The Lonely Planet calls traffic in the Old Quarter “oppressive,” and I couldn't agree more. Simply walking across the street required absolute concentration and patience to avoid the swarms of motorcycles. But, as in every other Vietnamese city we had visited, Hanoi delighted the senses.
A Crunchy Train Ride to Hanoi
The train was nearly empty, and it left an hour late. Most of the carriages were sleepers, though there were also a couple of hard-seat cars and a luxurious dining car. We spent most of the afternoon watching the ocean-side scenery, including rice fields at the foot of emerald mountains, cemeteries, wooden houses and tropical vegetation. We also passed through several towns and cities. Before coming here, it was hard to imagine what 90 million people, packed into a country twice the size of Wisconsin, might look like. But after seeing city after huge city, I was beginning to understand.