60 seconds in Kunming

Kunming has been the most relaxed city we have visited yet in China. It has a great feel about it. So rather than lots of rambling nonsense, here are a couple of rambling videos instead.

The first one us of folk / dance session in Kunming park. The whole place was littered with similar musical gatherings under every shady tree or pavillion.


The second one is a taste of how it feels to ride a bike in China. Hairy but loads of fun!

Mr Kaining in Kunming

One of Kathy's mum's colleagues, Mr Kaining, arranged to meet us for a meal in Kunming. Yet another remarkable man. He had been spending the day helping to train nearly 100 teachers the psychology of how to help the 500 orphaned children that had been brought to Kunming in the aftermath of the Sichuan earthquake. He is such a kind and generous person that he thought nothing of meeting us for a meal even after such a busy and strenuous day.

He talked eloquently and passionately about his work and his hopes for China's future. Unfortunately, it was another evening that was over too quickly.

The reaction in China to the earthquake has been very emotional. And justifiably so.

We don't suffer natural disasters of this scale at home - and thank goodness for that. China observed a 3 day period of reflection for the earthquake victims and survivors. We were lucky to visit the local primary school in Shidong (with Sue) as they were silent for three minutes along with the rest of China. But children are children - and the headteacher made them do a dummy run of silence before it was time for the real event. They were SO quiet and perfect that the head had to stifle her giggles before congratulating them and counting down to the silence proper.

Chairman Mao Salutes Wal-Mart

In the middle of the city of Guiyang, the capital of Guizou Provence, there is a large public square cunningly concealing a vast subterranean Wal-Mart. Overlooking the square is an equally vast statue of Chairman Mao, with his arm extended to a salute. At first both these potent symbols of Communism and Capitalism seem at odds with one another but the China we have experienced is really a complement (or head on collision, perhaps) of the two. The good, the bad and the ugly all wrapped up together. Our trip to the Huangushou waterfalls from Guiyang was all these things and more.

The falls are a 2 and a half hour bus drive from Guiyang. There was torrential rain for the duration of the trip and therefore nothing to see. On arrival we found ourselves in a glorified tourist car park with a ticket building, next to an isolated hotel and in the middle of nowhere. The admission prices were astronomical. It was going to cost us over 17 pounds each to buy a ticket and get a bus to see the falls. Understandably, we were not amused. Kathy suggested climbing the hill facing us. 'Nah,' I grumped. I suggested hiring the pedal boats on the lake in front of the hotel. 'Pah!' Kathy mumped. So we both mumped and grumped together in search of a 3rd option - to find the falls for ourselves. We could see great clouds of spray in the distance and combining compass skills, standard grade maths and boredom with the other options, figured it wasn't too far. Ignoring the legions of taxi drivers offering their services, we started our quest. Guizou is one of China's poorest regions and it was clear that little if nothing of that massive chunk of money from the ticket office was being pumped into the local community. In fact, there seemed to be an Official Tourist conspiracy to prevent the locals from gaining anything from the natural spectacle that situated itself on their doorstep. The road was thick with tourist officials with little badges and stern looks. As we got nearer to the spray the officials were more numerous as the poverty in the place seem to become more apparent. We were now so close we could hear the roar of the falls and feel the spray on our foreheads. An opportunity for a peak presented itself and we pulled ourselves up the wall and caught a glimpse of the falls in their full glory. In all our excitement, it was a while before we realised that the bottom of half of the wall was completely smeared with dog poo. Eurgh. It was also the only part of wall thereafter that wasn't at least 3m high and crowned in broken glass. As we followed the road round, officials blocked the routes to the driveways of houses on the hill above the road- which would have facilitated a very pleasurable look of the falls for free and 'sans le poo.' One restaurant seemed to have a balcony at the back with a prime view of the falls. Sure enough, at the back of the restaurant was a mighty fine view of the falls, again in all their glory. We bought some lunch, congratulated ourselves on having 'beat the MAN', joked about how close we had come to climbing a stump of a hill or pedaling ourselves demented going round and round a tiny lake, and left to find the bus back to Guiyang. Mission accomplished. Tourism in China in never very easy and is certainly never cheap.

Kylie in China!

Well, it's actually spelt Kaili for starters. But the mere mention of the little Minogue lady makes Kathy come out in diso fever all over. There is no known vaccination. I have to suffer. Or dance.
Guizou provence is a little more off the beaten track. We wanted to get away from the mass tourist thing. Actually, this is pretty much impossible but Kaili is as close as we've got so far. In our first day we were invited to visit Sue's (one of the Miao minority) home village and over the course of the next 3 days we never payed for an evening meal. Pretty good going.
Sue was a case of trusting against the flow of Chinese entrepreneurialism - and what a long word that is! At the Great Wall at Jinshanling we had been stung by the 'get off the bus too early to be told there is 'NO BUS' to the wall routine.' "No bus, no bus," all the taxi drivers kept chanting. We were stuck in the middle of nowhere ,unfortunately ,and after the hardest bargaining we could muster we took the taxi. He played soft flute covers of the theme tune to 'The Deer Hunter', and 'Annie's Song,' amongst other classics of that genre. The wall was full of hawkers at every corner chanting, ' hello! coke. hello! t-shirt. hello! water.' In true British manner we remained polite but internally ruffled by such invasions of our stroll and panoramic view.

So when Sue offered to take us round her home village we were sceptical but somehow trusting of her nature. She was softer, quieter and less intrusive. Genuine. We hoped.
In the space between, we went out to find some supper. We stumbled on a hot-pot restaurant and were invited over to a table of very rowdy ladies. They turned out to be the 'English Class' on a night out with ther Chinese English teacher. She was sozzled and could barely string a sentence together. They were all drinking sweetened rice wine, poured out of beer bottles and very quickly began ladelling it down our throats too. Dinner arrived in the form of a whole duck in a soup, to which we added greens and other veg and which sat bubbling over a hot flame in the middle of the table. Some of the English class had their children with them too. One very sweet nine year old girl practised her English out on me. "Do you like hamburger?" "Do you like duck?" "Do you like ice-cream?" Suddenly the English teacher disappeared to the toilet after her last slug of rice wine. The little girl followed to appear a few minutes later pronouncing the following sentence in perfect English. "English teacher - sick!" Understandably, taxi time was not long around the corner. When we went to pay, the lovely ladies had already payed the bill for us. Things in Kaili were looking good for the future.
The next morning we met Sue (this not being her Chinese but a Western name she had adopted - as is the custom for many Chinese). After a 3 hour bus ride we arrived in her home village of Shidong. It was market day and the place was alive with chickens, pigs, embroidery, silver jewellery(the Miao people are famous for their embroidery and silver) and loads of people. Definitely beats Tescos on a Saturday!
Sue then kindly took us for lunch with her family. We ate paddy fish soup (as in the fish that swim in the paddy fields), rice and homemade rice wine. It was strong. Her brother was a teacher and was kind enough to invite us to the local primary school for a short visit. Outside the gates we were mobbed by the children chanting 'hello, hello!' Kathy disappeared into the swarm and I was left with lots of little boys testing my arm muscles and seeing how vigorously they could shake my arm. Sue had not been back to the school for many years and was happy to find her old teacher (and favourite teacher). She proudly told him how she had taught herself English and was now working as a tour guide. She gave him her card as proof. Sue's family were very poor and could not afford to send her to school at first. In China you need to be able to pay for your own jotters and pencils. She had begged him until an Aunt heard her wishes and funded her to go to school. Guizou provence has much poverty and a good education and willing pupil (and these days an ability to speak a smattering of English) can be a real ticket out of poverty. It was a special day.

The next day we ventured out into the country again to visit other villages. The countryside was spectacular. Rolling hills, paddy fields clinging to steep embankments and many types of colourful butterflies. It was a hot day and a local farmer washing the water buffalo in the river tempted us to wander further upstream looking for the same relief from the heat. The river was cold and fragrant with the smell of rice wine (to which we were becoming accustomed). It felt amazing.

In the village we were treated to the staged singing and dancing of the Miao locals, as the tourists sat around and enjoyed the performance. Suddenly, Kathy was whisked away by an old lady with a vice like grip for the final circle dance. Towards the end of the dance many women with baskets laden with trinkets and goodies encircled the square and prepared for the final kill.

When the dance finished and the village square cleared Kathy was nowhere to be seen. After a mild panic I found her swamped by at least 15 ladies all clamping various silver bracelets on her arm and shouting, "how muchy, how muchy? I give you good price!" We managed to escape by buying only four bracelets. Phew, but it was close.

Warriors on film

Our stay in Xian was a very relaxed one thanks to the fantastic Seven Sages hostel we stayed in. The staff couldn't have been friendlier or more helpful. With its own private courtyard and table tennis table, it was sometimes a struggle to venture outside.


The main reason for visiting Xian was to see the Terracotta Warriors. In the Lonely Planet book it says that some people leave a little disappointed with it. They can't get close enough to the figures or something. Rubbish. The history and spectacle combined are sensational. The warriors are over 2000 years old. Construction lasted 40 years and everyone is unique, that is the detail of hair, clothes, face, clothing etc is different on each one. It took some 720 000 men to work on the project. When you witness the enormity of the place and face the hundreds of lifesize warriors facing you, you feel like you have wandered onto the set of an old Ray Harryhausen animated film. On command they will suddenly rise from their stupor and start marching towards you. To quote an American we overheard, "Gee, I didn't realise they would be so big. I thought they would be all be in miniature!"


We didn't take any photos of the warriors. Mainly because there was another army, of tourists, taking photos, short films, Hollywood productions for themselves. When you are in China you are often reminded of how large and populous a country it is and how many cameras and mobile phones there are as a result. Now, we don't claim to be photography experts, far from it, but sometimes you question the sanity for the audience who will be made to view these masterpieces. The camcorders are the worst. I saw one old Dutch gentlemen film the entire changing of the wheels as our train passed from Mongolia to China. Nothing much happens and when it does it happens reeeeeeeeeally slowly. It also takes over an hour. He captured the whole event.

So, to celebrate the digital tools of the modern world, for better or worse, another wee mixtape. Actually, this one is just an excuse to come clean about my love for Cliff Richard's Wired For Sound. There, it's out. Done.

For Matt, Ljupka and... Iskra

Special congratulations to Matt and Ljupka who have just had a wee girl called Iskra. We are really happy for you all.

Looks like the girls have it so far on the baby front.

This picture is not of Ljupka and Iskra, I must add. It is a Miao grandmother with a beautifully ornate baby carrier and very sleepy baby inside it.

For Russ and Nic...and Orlynn!

Before we went, we knew that we would miss a few things by not being at home. Several important weddings, Athole's Dad's 70th birthday and the births of 5 (yes 5) new people - now 6 thanks to Suzanne and Dom's recent announcement.

Well the first one has arrived - so huge congratulations to Russell and Nichola who gave birth to Orlynn at the weekend. We're a bit late with our message as, thanks to the complicated internet regulations of the People's Republic of China, Facebook hasn't been that easy to access.

But we are really, really delighted for them and can't wait to meet Orlynn, (who we think has a lovely name) and all the rest (though maybe not at the same time) in 8 months. Till then, we are on the hunt for baby gifts everywhere we go!

By the way - for all parents to be - the baby in the pic here is wearing what many Chinese children sport instead of nappies: split pants, or trousers with a split down the seam of the bum. (I was trying to convince Fi about them before I went). Basically it means that whenever the kid needs to go, it does, by squatting - without damaging any trousers or underwear. They seem to work pretty efficiently with kids old enough to communicate when they need to go, but for younger ones, what the practical implications are for carpets, furnishings and mum and dad's clothes, we haven't yet figured out. We'll update you when we find out - and can send some home for trials if you like!

Blogging in China

Just a quick note to say thank you to everyone who has been leaving lovely comments on the blog. We would love to reply, but our blog is banned in China! Actually, I'm sure most blogs are banned in China. Therefore, although we can publish to the blog, we can't actually see it.

So some quick replies to people.

Keir: Thanks for the update on Pesto. Will do our best to find some 'special' postcards for you! Glad the touring went well!

Nathalie: Thanks for the Francophile contributions. Keep them coming. And please wish Anouk a happy birthday. I suppose it is too late to reserve any of that double chocolate cake?!

Yann: I can't believe your first year at Uni is nearly over. And exams. Does that mean you are beginning to do some work? :-) Hope you do well! What are your plans for the summer?

Pat and John: Loved the joke. And I know that there are plenty more where that came from!

Auntie Kit / Uncle Tommy: Dead chuffed to hear the whole Bayne posse are keeping in touch. Get the wee ones to write their news. Would love to hear from them!

Kirsty and Darren: Yeah, it will be hard to imagine old Boris preciding over the Olympic games - prersuming he lasts that long! If he can't find nice things to say about Liverpudlians, heaven knows what he will say about the rest of the world.

P6B: Congratulations to Rebecca and Laura who have a new wee sister and cousin called Jessica!!! I hope all you guys are working hard for your new teacher! Or else... :-)
Who is winning the funny contest between Colin and Angus?
IS Arean still tormented by MSN?
Has Alexandra had any more injuries lately?
Is Cameron going to see Rangers in the UEFA cup final?
Is Mrs McPhee behaving herself?
Have Morgan and Niamh performed in Joseph?

All these questions and more! Tell me your news.

Chinese Earthquake in Sichuan

Yesterday (Monday 12th) there was a massive earthquake in the Sichuan province. The BBC reports of it sound horrendous. It is the worst earthquake to hit China in 30 years. Some 10000 people are feared dead or injured, but it looks like the figure could be a lot worse. 900 children are trapped underneath a collapsed school.
The BBC report says that the Chinese media's response had been fairly open. We watched the coverage on CCTV 9, China's English speaking channel. It was very reserved and limited and focused more on what the state was doing to help victims, rather than the plight of victims themselves. But I'm sure the shock of the quake and resulting effect on communication supplies does not help.
We are not there, and have not been affected directly by the quake. We were planning on travellling to Sichuan province in a few days, but obviously we will be changing our plans. Our thoughts go out to all the people who have been affected by the quake and of course the emergency teams who will be dealing with the aftermath.

As I write this in an internet cafe in Tai'an, I can hear the sound of the BBC's ident coming from other computers in the room.

Lin, Wen and Lin Jing

In many ways the highlight of our time in Beijing was a dinner date with an old colleague and friend of Kathy's mum called Wen. She is a remarkable old lady. As an academic she specialised in English and Scottish literature, and translated workd by D.H. Lawrence and Kipling that are still published in China. Her favourite Scottish author is Sir Walter Scott. Wen's husband Lin was also an academic and an expert translater in Polish. Their daughter, Lin Jing, is an extremely bubbly and energetic person who has visited 22 foreign countries. This is very unusual for the average person in China. Her target is to visit 50 countries.

These occasions always start with the exchange of lots of gifts. Kathy got a lovely wee purse and lipstick holder and we also got a massive bag of fruit. In return we gave a miniature Edradour whisky bottle, a Scottish tea towel bearing a Walter Scott quotation and a framed photograph of Kathy and her mum.

They treated us to the most amazing meal in their favourite local restaurant. To be honest, it was more of a banquet. Spicy tree fungus, omelette and prawns, squid, tofu, Peking roast duck and a pork leg dish in a spicy sauce. This last one is Lin's favourite and he says the restaurant does the best version in Beijing. We got them to write down the Chinese characters for the dish. Maybe Asia Style can recreate it for us when we return home. :-)

Sadly, the whole evening passed too quickly. Wen has the greatest respect and admiration for the work that Gil does in China to help women. It really was a privilege to meet her and her family.

Taishan: climbing a stairway to heaven

Taishan is one of the most revered and visited mountains in China. The Chinese come here in their droves to scale its 6660 steps, light incense sticks along the route and tie red ribbons to trees to help bring their family good luck. The aim is to reach the top to witness the most magnificent sunrise emerging from the East. "The East is red," Chairman Mao proclaimed from the top.
We left for the top at 11pm - the sunrise was due at sometime after 5am. You wouldn't believe how many people were there armed with torches and high spirits, attempting to scale the steps, the steps, the steps, the steps, the steps. There were an awful lot of steps!
At the midway gate we bumped into a young lad from London called 'A'. We stopped and took a rest for a couple of hours and he taught me how to play Chinese chess. What a fantastic game, I am hooked!
We reached the summit, just before 5am (and most of the other sunseekers). It was cloudy, freezing and dark. "I need my bed," we all proclaimed from the top. After teasing us for another 10mins the sun finally revealed itself. It was amazing.

I would like to dedicate this 'sunrise' mixtape to Russell and Nichola who have just had a wee girl called Orlynn. The last track's especially for you Russell.

I want to ride my bycicle. I want to ride it where I like.

I am quite prepared for much of my naivety and ignorance to shattered on this 9 month adventure. There is a bit of propaganda lodged in the back of my brain that tells me that the capital city of a Communist country should be dour, drab and very, very serious. A little old fashioned too. Beijing is none of these. It is a massive, impressively modern city that is full of life and very welcoming.

It is also a city designed for the bicycle. And there are thousands of them. There are also thousands of cars. Both the car drivers and the cyclists take the use of the horn and the bell very seriously. The result is noise. Lots of it!

It seems daft to be in Beijing without being on a bike. Sadly, our hostel only had reconditioned mountain bikes and not the basket fronted squeaky jallopies that all the locals had. After half an hour my souped up bike fell to bits and we carried the heap into the arms of one of the many bike repair stations dotting the roadside. 20 mins later the bike was ready to pedal.

Our mission was to seek out the Laos ambassy and obtain a visa. Mission accomplished we were both extremely hungry. There are so many options for eating in Beijing, that at times it can be overwhelming. But we adopted a good tactic that has proved very successful eversince. 1)Go off-book. Don't rely on the guide book. 2) Follow your nose 3) Follow the locals. We noticed lots of construction workers tucking into fantastic looking takeaways. Our stomachs and eyes followed their trail until we found a tiny place on the corner buzzing with activity and happy customers. No English menu, so we pointed. Two plates appeared. One with cold noodles with cucumber and lots of garlic. The other a chilli pork stir fry with rice. Delicious and cheap. We were joined by a retired University lecturer and his young English student. When we told him that we had no children but a cat (Pesto cover your ears), he joked that, "in China we eat everything!" And when he discovered that Kathy worked for the BBC and I was but a humble teacher, he took great delight in the fact that Kathy had a better job than me.



The visit to the Forbidden City was disappointing for one reason. Roger Moore no longer narrates the English audio tour guide. Kathy had built it up so much. Nevermind. When I was wee I remember watching a Bond movie and commenting that 'James Bond must have slept with more woman that anyone else." In this repect, I think the Emperors had even Mr Bond beat. 3000 concubines each of them had. And the Emperor would never even meet them all, even though they all lived in a strange harmony within the walls of the City. If a concubine got bored of waiting for the Emperor to honour her with a visit and decided to slope off with more her own age (quite frankly) then, if found out, the Emperor had the right to knock off the said flighty concubine and 8 generations of her family.

Having missed Lenin in Moscow, I made sure not to miss seeing preserved body / waxwork dummy of Chairman Mao in Beijing. Kathy had already been when she visited Beijing the last time, so I went alone. It is a strange experience and you don't get long to actually view the body. However, you do get plenty of time to buy souvenirs at the other end. China may be rapidly modernising and changing but it is clear that Mao's influence and persona is still a potent symbol for many Chinese and the China itself. Can't imagine this sort of thing happening at home. Which leader would we choose to soak in formaldehyde for all eternity? Winston Churchill, Maggie Thatcher, Tony Blair?

We miss Pesto!

Mongolia advertising

Take me to the border

Wild Horses

Welcome to Mongolia - not a brief introduction by any means. The border crossing on the Russian side takes 5 hours, during the last 3 hours of which, nobody is allowed to use the toilet on board the train, or leave the train to use the platform facilities either. Eventually, after extensive pleading from us and our berth-mates, two charming Swedish girls called My and Alex, the toilet is reopened for 10 minutes as the train covers the 5 kilometres between the Russian customs procedure and the Mongolian one. 5km down the road we repeat the entire process, including the no-peeing-during-customs-inspection rule. Bladders are severely tested. Nobody is selling any chocolate either.

When we wake up in Ulan Bator, the first thought is "what will we have to eat now?" Well, "salad" no longer comes with a life-threatening quantity of mayonnaise, which is something to be thankful for. And the ice-cream is just as cheap, and of a slightly better quality. There are good bakeries, excellent dumplings, wonderful soups and stews, totally crazy barbecues and everything costs buttons. All in all a definite improvement on expensive Russian stodge.

At the train station we are met by our guide, Toson Huu, who turns out to have a very good sense of humour: "Mongolians have a great sense of direction, we call it GPS: Ger Positioning System - when you get lost, you go to the nearest ger and ask the way!" He promptly chucks us and our bags into a Russian 4-wheel drive and we hit the road for Hustai National Park. When I say road, what I really mean is that our driver continues on the potholed concrete for about 20 minutes (really puts those slightly rough patches of Great Western Road into perspective) and then, seemingly at random and with no marking, sign or other directions, starts to drive across the open country. The ground is rough and dusty, and our route includes many ravines, ditches, steep climbs and the odd mountain. Sitting upright is difficult.

3 hours later, we arrive in Hustai, home to the world's only truly wild horses, and our camp for the next few nights. It's spectacular scenery - we are ringed with jagged peaks and dusty steppe stretches far into the distance. It feels like we have travelled to the edge of the world.(Though on the map we see later in the Natural History museum, it turns out we are just a couple of centimetres from Ulan Bator).

We are the first and only tourists of the season for the first night or two, and as a result, our Mongolian hosts have generously given us their only deluxe ger tent (originally constructed for a visit from the Prince and Princess of Holland) at no extra cost. We, of course, are massively disappointed, as what we really wanted was to sleep in an ordinary ger, preferably with a few horses, some camels and maybe a yak thrown in for good measure. But we realise it would be rude to decline, so we submit to the double bed and luxury fittings with good grace.

We spend three days hiking and watching the amazing wildlife - apart from the wild horses, which we see up close, there are red deer, buzzards, marmots, ground squirrels and vultures - absolutely HUGE and very black. The takhi, or Prezwalski wild horses are the central attraction though: originally extinct in the 1960s, horses bred in zoos in Russia and Europe were reintroduced to the park in the 1990s. The reintroduction was a success (the DVD showing them bolting out of the horse boxes into the wild is convincingly spectacular) and now they roam the park in herds - either small batchelor groups or stallions with a harem of mares. We saw several of both groups, though they're not particularly keen on getting close to humans, so we had to trek up a pretty big hill to get to them.

On our way back to the city we take a detour and visit the standing stones that mark burial grounds for ancient nobles. It's hard to describe just how open and wild the country is, dotted with gers and only interrupted every few miles by massive herds of horses, cattle, sheep and goats searching for water and grass. Nomads appear on the horizon, on horseback, or just as often on noisy Russian motorbikes, usually dressed in fantastically brightly coloured outfits with spectacular boots.

Returning to Ulan Bator, it is immediately obvious that we are 10 years too old for our pre-booked hostel. Whingeing teenagers slumped in front of English-language TV programmes abound and we are instantly accosted by an overly-casual American boy who demands to know whether we are going on a tour or to the train station. Just as we're really starting to panic (how will we survive this hell?) the owner of the hostel explains that, as we have already been on a tour, she has arranged for us to stay with a friend of hers instead. "Like a homestay?" Our faces light up instantly.

Our homestay turns out to be a guy called Ganba, who is massively cheerful and begins to crack jokes as soon as we are in the taxi. His home life is something of a mystery to us - we are staying in his 2-room flat, where there is much evidence of a wife and children, but they are nowhere to be seen. Ganba himself sleeps on the living room floor (we have the bedroom and only bed) and there is a constant and distinct aroma of booze in his general direction. It's not entirely clear what his job is.

We don't see much of him for the next 2 days, which are spent at various tourist attractions - temples, museums, karaoke bars - but catch up with him on our final night, when we have a 7am start for the train next morning. However, Ganba inists that we all go to a bar, with the Kiwi who is also staying in the flat that night - on the living room floor. Said Kiwi is also in his 30s (there's a pattern here) and a photographer, so it makes for a good night out. On the way home Ganba buys more beer (he's well on his way by this point) and a bottle of Chinggis Khan vodka, which he then presents to his new Scottish friends as a gift. Back at the flat there are many declarations of multi-national friendship before we all bed down for the night, Ganba on the miniscule kitchen floor this time.

6 days in Mongolia was not enough. The Golden Gobi beer was just too good, and too cheap, not to repeat the experience. Moreover, there is an awful lot still to see. Hearing other people talk about the longer, more adventurous tours they were going on, including the likes of camel and horse riding, desert-exploring, mountain-trekking, nomadic living, iceberg sailing (ok I made that one up), all sounded totally amazing and exhilarating. Toson's company even offers a 23-day motorcycling tour of the Gobi and other areas. We had only had a taste of it all and deperately wanted more.