I really like San Francisco. I had spent a week here in August with my family, and now after this stopover I’ve added San Fran to the short (very short) list of places I would like to live. Too bad it’s New York expensive and I’m unemployed…
Today was a perfect way for me to end my trip: leisurely paced, relaxed, and with good company. Having seen and felt so many things over the past year, I’m always looking for outlets for sharing and trying to express what’s jumbled up in my head. I’m also looking for different sounding boards to try and help me make sense of the jumble as it comes out. Some friends are great at helping you focus your gaze and reinforcing what you believe. Others are great at challenging you and offering perspectives you might have never considered.
I met up with my friend V for lunch and catching up on everything that’s happened to both of us in the past year. To say nothing of simply enjoying her company, talking with V is always such a rewarding experience for me. She has a way of turning thoughts to words that I would give anything to possess, and I find myself using parts of my brain I’m not accustomed to using trying to follow her questions and progressions of thought. Sometimes all I can do is sit and stare as my mind races to catch up.
After lunch V took me on a little walking tour of her city. I don’t remember so much about the places we went that afternoon, but I remember feeling completely at peace with the city and the moment, happy to be back in something of a comfort zone, and excited to meet whatever challenges I’m about to meet.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Day 26 - Seoul to San Fran
I awoke from a very uncomfortable sleep to break fast on a few bites of the worst omelet ever and to find that my foot had swollen to the point it wouldn’t fit in my shoe. After limping through immigration and customs in Seoul I got on a bus for Itaewon to meet up with Michelle, Mike, and my laptop (hello, old friends!). I arrived about an hour or so before I was supposed to meet them, so I went to Starbucks, listened to my iPod, drank my designer coffee, and wrote in my journal. Looks like I found my Americana a little earlier than planned. Eventually I limped over to Gecko’s (more Americana) and met up with Michelle and Mike. It was so great catching up on everything that’s happened in the last month. I didn’t realize how much I missed them until we were back together again.
Back at the airport I waited out a delay for an aircraft change and marveled at how much Koreans (and Indians, too, it seems) love to queue up and stand around for no apparent reason. Finally, at about 7:30 I boarded the plane, said my last goodbyes to Asia, and headed to San Francisco.
---
Being in San Fran and back in the States is quite a surreal feeling. I’m not used to being able to understand conversations I hear on the subway or being able to communicate without hand gestures. This is going to take some getting used to. It was also, technically, six hours prior to the time that I actually left Korea. Crossing the date line meant that November 20 for me would last for close to 40 hours.
After checking into my hotel I decided that two whole hours in America was way too long to have been without a mobile phone, so I went to take in the sights and atmosphere of San Fran and to find myself a leash.
Terrence and Lesa picked me up at my hotel and we went out for dinner (Burmese fusion cuisine, whatever that means) and drinks. It was great meeting up with friends from this part of the world and being able to pick up like nothing had really changed. The gaps from the past year were easy to fill in and it was great falling back into just sitting around and talking about everything and nothing. After tonight I feel really good about being able to pick my friendships back up.
Back to the hotel for a nice, hot shower and sleeping in a real bed. Ahhhhh!!!!
Back at the airport I waited out a delay for an aircraft change and marveled at how much Koreans (and Indians, too, it seems) love to queue up and stand around for no apparent reason. Finally, at about 7:30 I boarded the plane, said my last goodbyes to Asia, and headed to San Francisco.
---
Being in San Fran and back in the States is quite a surreal feeling. I’m not used to being able to understand conversations I hear on the subway or being able to communicate without hand gestures. This is going to take some getting used to. It was also, technically, six hours prior to the time that I actually left Korea. Crossing the date line meant that November 20 for me would last for close to 40 hours.
After checking into my hotel I decided that two whole hours in America was way too long to have been without a mobile phone, so I went to take in the sights and atmosphere of San Fran and to find myself a leash.
Terrence and Lesa picked me up at my hotel and we went out for dinner (Burmese fusion cuisine, whatever that means) and drinks. It was great meeting up with friends from this part of the world and being able to pick up like nothing had really changed. The gaps from the past year were easy to fill in and it was great falling back into just sitting around and talking about everything and nothing. After tonight I feel really good about being able to pick my friendships back up.
Back to the hotel for a nice, hot shower and sleeping in a real bed. Ahhhhh!!!!
Day 25 - Bangkok
I think I'd had my fill of
What saved the day, though, and maybe my trip was a Thai Boxing class. Two hours of kicking and punching things definitely made me feel better. Realizing how incredibly out of shape - both strength and endurance shape and fighting shape (sorry, Bob and Jan) - was a little depressing. I've really got to get on the ball when I get back home, especially since I'm not going to have a pesky "job" to distract me. After the class I hobbled back to my hotel to nurse my bruised and swelling ankle and quarter-sized patch of skin I ripped from my toe. I’m in such pain now… After packing, dinner, and some last minute shopping I limped my three backpacks for what seemed ten miles to catch the bus.
Thank God I could check those bags. I’ve never been so relieved to be unencumbered. Of course, with my luck, the gate was at the farthest end of the farthest terminal in the entire airport, so it’s a good thing I was a little early. By the time I dragged my club foot across the airport I only had about fifteen minutes before boarding.
Day 24 - Bangkok
This is the first place I’ve missed traveling with someone else. Usually I don’t have any problems meeting people, and maybe it’s just that I’m road weary and can’t be bothered to make the effort of being social, but there seems to be a different feeling here within the solo-traveler community. For one thing, there are a lot more of us, so I don’t feel that special connection like I did in smaller places when there were only a couple of lone rangers.
So setting out this morning I didn’t really have my bearings, so after a few minutes of wandering I found myself standing on a street corner looking perplexed as I glanced back and forth between my map and some road signs. I hate finding myself in this position as it’s a great way to attract profiteers. And so, in due course, I was approached and scammed.
Now I didn’t get scammed out of any money, but I did end up losing out on a big chunk of time. Actually, since I’m always looking for a good way to kill a few hours, it wasn’t so bad. The scam involved telling me that the sights I wanted to see were keeping strange hours today (of course) because it was the last day of some holiday, and that I could see some other sights that aren’t usually open to foreigners. He told me I could get a tuk-tuk to take me around for 3 hours for 50 cents because the government was paying his petrol for the day. So he drove me around to a few Buddha temples (one of which was interesting), the Golden Tower which had an impressive view of the city, and to a tailor that had been recommended by my hotel. It was called the James Tailor, so I had to go in and check it out. I had seen on the news that
So the reason this ends up being a scam is that to get his “gas money”, the driver has to take a foreigner to a souvenir or jewelry store and get a stamp from the shopkeeper. He asked if I minded being taken to a few shops on the way back to
After getting my bearings again I set off for the
At Wat Pho, just south of the palace complex, is the Relaxin’ Buddha, or the Reclining Buddha if you’re more of a purist. And it’s exactly what the name implies: A huge statue of Buddha lying on his side and propping his head up with his hand. It was very big and very reclined, and that’s all I really have to say about it.
The highlight of my day was a Thai massage at the national training center. Ten dollars for an hour or being kneaded, rubbed down with hot stones and herbs, and contorted into positions I didn’t know I could make. It was awesome.
Back on
Friday, November 18, 2005
Day 23 - Siem Reap to Bangkok
I woke up early this morning and went to a travel agent to secure a plane ticket to Bangkok leaving later in the day. I'd heard such horror stories about the bus ride (you know how I feel about busses) from Siem Reap to Thailand that I happily paid 5 times as much to fly. Time is also an issue at this point, as my trip is hurdling to its end.
I spent the rest of the morning shopping around the market and trying out a few cafes for either coffee or beer (it's happy hour somewhere, right?). I caught a motorbike out to the middle of nowhere, feeling like I was about to be waylaid the entire time, to the landmine museum. It's a very rudimentary couple of shacks and gardens set up to display a lot of information and a lot of old land mines, but is mostly impressive for being set up by a man who, as a child, was forced to plant mines for the Khmer Rouge and who now wants to raise awareness about how the mines are still a huge problem. The museum grounds also double as a school for children affected in some way by mines. I happily donated some money to support their cause, bought some museum t-shirts, and even bought some bracelets made by students at the school. Cute kids.
The last stop of the day in Siem Reap was the Butterfly Garden Bar, where you can order expensive and/or bad food and drinks while hundreds of butterflies fly around your head. The bar itself is really neat, but my food wasn't very good and my "house special" drink was remniscent of gasoline and lilac.
---
Landing in Bangkok was first shocking because I hadn't seen any big planes at an airport in quite a while. I'd been in some big cities, but now I was in a BIG city and a major tourist destination. Bangkok isn't just on the beaten path, it's the place where all beaten and unbeaten paths lead.
On the bus to Khaosan Road, THE spot for backpackers in SE Asia, there were obvious first-timers in Asia (that deer in the headlights look), seasoned veterans (flip flops and asian beer shirts), and the occasional middle-aged man here for the sex scene. In Thailand, it seems, there's something for everyone. Khaosan Road is the sum of every tourist strip I've seen so far. Neon, bars, shops, restaurants, hotels, and of course banks $$$ at such an astounding density. I settled into my hotel and then found a seat at one of the bars to have a beer and to people watch for a while. There's a lot to take in here.
I spent the rest of the morning shopping around the market and trying out a few cafes for either coffee or beer (it's happy hour somewhere, right?). I caught a motorbike out to the middle of nowhere, feeling like I was about to be waylaid the entire time, to the landmine museum. It's a very rudimentary couple of shacks and gardens set up to display a lot of information and a lot of old land mines, but is mostly impressive for being set up by a man who, as a child, was forced to plant mines for the Khmer Rouge and who now wants to raise awareness about how the mines are still a huge problem. The museum grounds also double as a school for children affected in some way by mines. I happily donated some money to support their cause, bought some museum t-shirts, and even bought some bracelets made by students at the school. Cute kids.
The last stop of the day in Siem Reap was the Butterfly Garden Bar, where you can order expensive and/or bad food and drinks while hundreds of butterflies fly around your head. The bar itself is really neat, but my food wasn't very good and my "house special" drink was remniscent of gasoline and lilac.
---
Landing in Bangkok was first shocking because I hadn't seen any big planes at an airport in quite a while. I'd been in some big cities, but now I was in a BIG city and a major tourist destination. Bangkok isn't just on the beaten path, it's the place where all beaten and unbeaten paths lead.
On the bus to Khaosan Road, THE spot for backpackers in SE Asia, there were obvious first-timers in Asia (that deer in the headlights look), seasoned veterans (flip flops and asian beer shirts), and the occasional middle-aged man here for the sex scene. In Thailand, it seems, there's something for everyone. Khaosan Road is the sum of every tourist strip I've seen so far. Neon, bars, shops, restaurants, hotels, and of course banks $$$ at such an astounding density. I settled into my hotel and then found a seat at one of the bars to have a beer and to people watch for a while. There's a lot to take in here.
Day 22 - Angkor
With my airport motorbike (motorbike sounds a lot better than scooter, don't you think?) guy as my driver for the temples, I set off for the temples of Angkor. What an amazing place! The price tag is a little outragious at $20/day, but well worth it for a day of sightseeing. I might have had trouble paying for two or more days, but one day was great.
Since I was doing an abbreviated tour I only had time to hit the highlights. The first stop was the impressive Angkor Wat, the place I most wanted to see here. It's an absolutely beautiful site and it's on such a massive scale with intricate carvings and stonework. I especially liked the carved figures of skinny, well-endowed women adorning most surfaces. It seems the ancient Khmer people and I have a lot in common when it comes to appreciating the female form. The focal point of the temple is a huge central spire surrounded by four smaller spires are the four corners of an outer building. They're meant to represent five holy mountains, and the steps are so steep that getting to the top feels a lot like climbing a mountain. A few times I was able to find a secluded, meditative spot to relax, but the meditation sessions were often short lived and interrupted by locals wanting to practice their English. All things considered, though, I left Angkor Wat with a wonderful impression. It's beautiful, awe-inspring, and wonderfully rebuilt/maintained.
The next stop in the whirlwind d'Angkor was the Bayon, just North of Angkor Wat, which I found to be just as impressive as the Wat and more mysterious despite its limited scale and more ruinous state of repair. Whereas the temple structure of the Wat is tall and spread out, the Bayon is jammed into a small area that's filled with little nooks and crannies, hidden rooms and corridors, and intricate stone carvings on every surface. In fact, the Bayon is probably most remarkable for the bazillion or so faces carved into the stone towers. It's a little bit creepy, to be honest, having all those faces staring at you from every angle. I found myself walking around jaw-unhinged as much as at Angkor Wat, but it's a completely different kind of overwhelming.
The next stop was Ta Prohm, heretofore referred to as the Angelina Jolie temple since one of her Tomb Raider movies was filmed here. When a French team rediscovered the temples at Angkor some years ago, they had been completely engulfed by the surrounding jungle and were in varying states of ruin - the temples, that is, and not the French. A massive clearing, rebuilding, and preservation project was started to restore the temples to something of their former glory. They decided, however, that the temples quietly coexisting with and slowly being torn apart by the jungle was a different kind of beautiful, so they decided to keep some temples as they found them, which is to say that they are meticulously maintained to make sure they look as is they're being overrun with jungle but are tourist-friendly and relatively safe from further damage.
It's hard to tell how big of a temple this was from inside since any towers have been toppled and replaced with huge trees growing out of the stones. All-in-all it's a very alluring and mysterious place and I had a great time losing myself among the ruins and hoping to run into Angelina.
On the motorbike ride to the next temle, the bottom fell out of the clouds that had been threatening all afternoon. Bikes are great except when they leave you exposed to the unpleasant elements, so the 5-minute ride through the needles of rain was a painfully exhilirating and thoroughly soaking experience. We found a big tent on the side of the road that had been set up to serve food and souveniers to the tourist hordes, but was now being used as a refuge by anyone traveling on two wheels. I waited out the storm by napping in a hammock thrown up in the tent. That might have been the most enjoyable part of my day.
When the rain ended, the sunset was closing in. The last stop for the day was a temple on a nearby hilltop that offers fantastic views of the surrounding countryside and is a popular place to catch the sunset over the jungle. When I say it's popluar, I mean that everyone and all their friends were there. After walking up a huge hill trying to get around groups of geriatric Japanese tourists, there was a line of people waiting to climb the ladder-like stairs to the top. I reached the top amidst a sea of cheering and was doubly disappointed to find that not only did nobody care that I had arrived, but that they were cheering the sun having passed beyond the horizon. I hurried to get my camera only to realize that my batteries were dead. of course. i was hoping to get some pictures of the sunset and of the mass of people taking pictures of the sunset. By the time I got my other camera out, the crowd has disappeared and the sky wasn't so impressive. The good news is that I was like last in line to get back down off the mountain.
After 5 miles of traffic jam, fumes, and honking on the back of a motorbike, I arrived at the guesthouse which had no power. I then had to try explaining to my English-challenged driver that I didn't know what time my flight was leaving, so I couldn't tell him what time he should pick me up to take me to the airport. I've never been so close to strangling such a nice guy. I finally left the guesthouse and headed into Siem Reap town for a much needed beer.
Since I was doing an abbreviated tour I only had time to hit the highlights. The first stop was the impressive Angkor Wat, the place I most wanted to see here. It's an absolutely beautiful site and it's on such a massive scale with intricate carvings and stonework. I especially liked the carved figures of skinny, well-endowed women adorning most surfaces. It seems the ancient Khmer people and I have a lot in common when it comes to appreciating the female form. The focal point of the temple is a huge central spire surrounded by four smaller spires are the four corners of an outer building. They're meant to represent five holy mountains, and the steps are so steep that getting to the top feels a lot like climbing a mountain. A few times I was able to find a secluded, meditative spot to relax, but the meditation sessions were often short lived and interrupted by locals wanting to practice their English. All things considered, though, I left Angkor Wat with a wonderful impression. It's beautiful, awe-inspring, and wonderfully rebuilt/maintained.
The next stop in the whirlwind d'Angkor was the Bayon, just North of Angkor Wat, which I found to be just as impressive as the Wat and more mysterious despite its limited scale and more ruinous state of repair. Whereas the temple structure of the Wat is tall and spread out, the Bayon is jammed into a small area that's filled with little nooks and crannies, hidden rooms and corridors, and intricate stone carvings on every surface. In fact, the Bayon is probably most remarkable for the bazillion or so faces carved into the stone towers. It's a little bit creepy, to be honest, having all those faces staring at you from every angle. I found myself walking around jaw-unhinged as much as at Angkor Wat, but it's a completely different kind of overwhelming.
The next stop was Ta Prohm, heretofore referred to as the Angelina Jolie temple since one of her Tomb Raider movies was filmed here. When a French team rediscovered the temples at Angkor some years ago, they had been completely engulfed by the surrounding jungle and were in varying states of ruin - the temples, that is, and not the French. A massive clearing, rebuilding, and preservation project was started to restore the temples to something of their former glory. They decided, however, that the temples quietly coexisting with and slowly being torn apart by the jungle was a different kind of beautiful, so they decided to keep some temples as they found them, which is to say that they are meticulously maintained to make sure they look as is they're being overrun with jungle but are tourist-friendly and relatively safe from further damage.
It's hard to tell how big of a temple this was from inside since any towers have been toppled and replaced with huge trees growing out of the stones. All-in-all it's a very alluring and mysterious place and I had a great time losing myself among the ruins and hoping to run into Angelina.
On the motorbike ride to the next temle, the bottom fell out of the clouds that had been threatening all afternoon. Bikes are great except when they leave you exposed to the unpleasant elements, so the 5-minute ride through the needles of rain was a painfully exhilirating and thoroughly soaking experience. We found a big tent on the side of the road that had been set up to serve food and souveniers to the tourist hordes, but was now being used as a refuge by anyone traveling on two wheels. I waited out the storm by napping in a hammock thrown up in the tent. That might have been the most enjoyable part of my day.
When the rain ended, the sunset was closing in. The last stop for the day was a temple on a nearby hilltop that offers fantastic views of the surrounding countryside and is a popular place to catch the sunset over the jungle. When I say it's popluar, I mean that everyone and all their friends were there. After walking up a huge hill trying to get around groups of geriatric Japanese tourists, there was a line of people waiting to climb the ladder-like stairs to the top. I reached the top amidst a sea of cheering and was doubly disappointed to find that not only did nobody care that I had arrived, but that they were cheering the sun having passed beyond the horizon. I hurried to get my camera only to realize that my batteries were dead. of course. i was hoping to get some pictures of the sunset and of the mass of people taking pictures of the sunset. By the time I got my other camera out, the crowd has disappeared and the sky wasn't so impressive. The good news is that I was like last in line to get back down off the mountain.
After 5 miles of traffic jam, fumes, and honking on the back of a motorbike, I arrived at the guesthouse which had no power. I then had to try explaining to my English-challenged driver that I didn't know what time my flight was leaving, so I couldn't tell him what time he should pick me up to take me to the airport. I've never been so close to strangling such a nice guy. I finally left the guesthouse and headed into Siem Reap town for a much needed beer.
Day 21 - Bye-bye, Vietnam!
This morning was a clinic on how to go leisurely about a day and to enjoy a city. Now, I'm sitting in the Ho Chi Minh airport and after issues with my customs form (I had lost it) and not being able to remember the name of any of my hotels as required by the new customs form, I'm watching a screen full of delayed flights and wondering if I'll ever get to Cambodia. I'm a little doubtful, to be honest.
---
After a two-hour delay, I hopped a quick flight to Siem Reap. I payed $20 for my Cambodian visa, then emptied my wallet of money by paying $1 for a ride into town on the back of a scooter. I was dropped at a guesthouse the driver knew (friends with the staff) since I hadn't booked any accomodation for the night. The Coconut Villa Guesthouse will not make my list of recommended places to stay. hot water-less, gritty sheets, and overpriced doesn't really fit the bill. I wanted to wander and see some of the sights in Siem Reap, but only having about 25 cents in usable currency (Siem Reap has no ATMs), I was forced to watch fuzzy TV until I fell asleep.
---
After a two-hour delay, I hopped a quick flight to Siem Reap. I payed $20 for my Cambodian visa, then emptied my wallet of money by paying $1 for a ride into town on the back of a scooter. I was dropped at a guesthouse the driver knew (friends with the staff) since I hadn't booked any accomodation for the night. The Coconut Villa Guesthouse will not make my list of recommended places to stay. hot water-less, gritty sheets, and overpriced doesn't really fit the bill. I wanted to wander and see some of the sights in Siem Reap, but only having about 25 cents in usable currency (Siem Reap has no ATMs), I was forced to watch fuzzy TV until I fell asleep.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
A Few Thoughts on Traveling in Asia
This story doesn't really fit into the one-day-one-story format I've been using for the rest of this trip, but is rather a balloon of thoughts and feelings that has finally burst.
Traveling here has made me wary of anyone trying to strike up a conversation, and I'm sure to those few well intentioned people who really do just want to say Hi and practice their English, I come across as a royal ass. I've accepted that to 99% of the poeple here I'm a walking dollar sign, and I don't feel like I'm being unfair in that assessment. I've been made to feel this way by a never ending barrage of sales pitches and propositions, so my reaction, accordingly, has become the cold shoulder. My standard answers are "NO", or if I'm feeling nice, "NO, thank you." regardless of the question.
"Hello. Motorbike*?" (*insert 'postcards', 'hotel', 'buy something', 'eat something', or anything else that might be for sale.)
"No."
"Oh! Where are you from?"
"No."
"Where are you going?"
"No."
I've made several exceptions to my policy of ignoring (policy of ignorance?) and have spoken with quite a few people along the way. Some of these have been incredibly rewarding experiences and have offered a wonderful insight into life in these countries. Many, unfortunately, have been long winded attempts to lighten my wallet.
One thing I must say is that a majority of the people who have approached me, and especially in Vietnam, have offered goods or services in exchange for my money, be it for souveniers, motorbike rides, tour guide services, or something else for which I might agreeably pay. Begging for money is relatively rare, and I admire the determination of these people to go out and earn a living in some fashion instead of accepting handouts. It's the endless stream of people touting their services that's hard to swallow and eventually takes its toll. With so much poverty, though, and so much competition for the tourists' dollars, it's to be expected.
So the lesson hidden in the lines of my rant is this: when traveling in Asia, discard all blatant propositions for money with a firm (often friendly) "NO" or two. Occasionally, however, if you have the time and patience, sit and chat with some of the locals. They could be the most enlightening and enjoyable moments of your trip.
Traveling here has made me wary of anyone trying to strike up a conversation, and I'm sure to those few well intentioned people who really do just want to say Hi and practice their English, I come across as a royal ass. I've accepted that to 99% of the poeple here I'm a walking dollar sign, and I don't feel like I'm being unfair in that assessment. I've been made to feel this way by a never ending barrage of sales pitches and propositions, so my reaction, accordingly, has become the cold shoulder. My standard answers are "NO", or if I'm feeling nice, "NO, thank you." regardless of the question.
"Hello. Motorbike*?" (*insert 'postcards', 'hotel', 'buy something', 'eat something', or anything else that might be for sale.)
"No."
"Oh! Where are you from?"
"No."
"Where are you going?"
"No."
I've made several exceptions to my policy of ignoring (policy of ignorance?) and have spoken with quite a few people along the way. Some of these have been incredibly rewarding experiences and have offered a wonderful insight into life in these countries. Many, unfortunately, have been long winded attempts to lighten my wallet.
One thing I must say is that a majority of the people who have approached me, and especially in Vietnam, have offered goods or services in exchange for my money, be it for souveniers, motorbike rides, tour guide services, or something else for which I might agreeably pay. Begging for money is relatively rare, and I admire the determination of these people to go out and earn a living in some fashion instead of accepting handouts. It's the endless stream of people touting their services that's hard to swallow and eventually takes its toll. With so much poverty, though, and so much competition for the tourists' dollars, it's to be expected.
So the lesson hidden in the lines of my rant is this: when traveling in Asia, discard all blatant propositions for money with a firm (often friendly) "NO" or two. Occasionally, however, if you have the time and patience, sit and chat with some of the locals. They could be the most enlightening and enjoyable moments of your trip.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Day 20 - Saigon
I arrived in Saigon at about 5am. On land, train is the only way to travel, man. Busses are for suckers - or massochists - or both. After finding a hotel that was open, putting my bags down, and freshening up, I killed some time at an internet cafe and then found some much-needed breakfast - I had had Oreos for dinner on the train. The next order of business was to find a haircut. I was starting to feel a little shaggy in addition to always feeling dirty (curse of the backpacker) so i figured a haircut would make me feel a lot better. Sometime during breakfast the torrential rain started and the power on our street went out, which I only mention because it nearly got me in a lot of trouble.
The first salon I went in was the wrong kind of salon. Since the power was off I couldn't really see inside except to see some mirrors on the wall and a bored-looking girl sitting in a barber chair. When I walked in I noticed about 20 bored-looking girls putting on makeup and adjusting their too-mini skirts. Their bored-looking pimp thankfully told me they were closed since the power was out. I made sure the next place I entered was legit, and not only did I end up with a good haircut (short, flippy, and pointy), but I ended up with the best scalp, face, and shoulder massage EVER. There are now two known paths to my heart: my stomach (we all already knew that), and a head/face massage. *sigh*
Walked around Saigon for the afternoon with an added spring in my step, and then met up with some friends from Hoi An (they arrived in Saigon by bus - suckers!) for a lot of food and drinks before calling it a too-early night. Bon voyage, guys!
The first salon I went in was the wrong kind of salon. Since the power was off I couldn't really see inside except to see some mirrors on the wall and a bored-looking girl sitting in a barber chair. When I walked in I noticed about 20 bored-looking girls putting on makeup and adjusting their too-mini skirts. Their bored-looking pimp thankfully told me they were closed since the power was out. I made sure the next place I entered was legit, and not only did I end up with a good haircut (short, flippy, and pointy), but I ended up with the best scalp, face, and shoulder massage EVER. There are now two known paths to my heart: my stomach (we all already knew that), and a head/face massage. *sigh*
Walked around Saigon for the afternoon with an added spring in my step, and then met up with some friends from Hoi An (they arrived in Saigon by bus - suckers!) for a lot of food and drinks before calling it a too-early night. Bon voyage, guys!
Monday, November 14, 2005
Day 19 - Bye-bye, Hoi An. Bye-bye, Budget
Well so much for bargain shopping. Two tailors, 20kg and $700 worth of clothes, plus $200 in shipping costs means that my budget for the rest of this trip is completely gone. For the Christmas and birthday presents I haven't bought yet, I might have to resort to airplane blankets and in-flight magazines. Sorry, guys...
I got on a train for Saigon today (no more busses!). An 18-hour trip with room to stretch out and walk around is infinitely more appealing to me than 24 hours packed into a hot, crowded bus. It's well worth the $50 price tag.
I got on a train for Saigon today (no more busses!). An 18-hour trip with room to stretch out and walk around is infinitely more appealing to me than 24 hours packed into a hot, crowded bus. It's well worth the $50 price tag.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Days 17 and 18 - Hoi An
Hoi An is a really neat place. It's one of a very few places that wasn't damaged during the wars, so it has a lot of its old buildings and architecture intact. The city has even been designated a world heritage site. Hoi An is also remarkable for its huge array of tailors.
This stop was a big change of pace for me. Usually I spend my time sightseeing, stopping for drinks or food, writing emails, and cooling off at the hotel. Mostly, though, I'm pounding pavement and seeing a lot of sights. In Hoi An, however, I did little or no sightseeing and I didn't really wander too far from the city center with the hotel, restaurants, and tailors. The days in Hoi An typically consisted of arranging to meet up with some or all of the group, usually for meals, then walking around, shopping and getting fitted for clothes, and taking nap and email breaks.
My two days in Hoi An are something of a blur since I don't have many reference points in time to build memories around. The morning trip to the tailor one day is virtually the same memory as a trip to a different tailor another night. Lunches and dinners were all from different restaurants with the exact same menu. The highlights I have are the big deviations from that normal routine. On Saturday, Matt and I rented scooters and braved 4km of Vietnamese roads on the way to a great beach. The parade of ladies and children selling fruit, jewelry, frisbees, cigarettes, and massages detracted from the overall peaceful setting, but not enough to ruin my mood.
Oh, and I learned that the Swedish word for 'mullet' is hockeyfrilla.
This stop was a big change of pace for me. Usually I spend my time sightseeing, stopping for drinks or food, writing emails, and cooling off at the hotel. Mostly, though, I'm pounding pavement and seeing a lot of sights. In Hoi An, however, I did little or no sightseeing and I didn't really wander too far from the city center with the hotel, restaurants, and tailors. The days in Hoi An typically consisted of arranging to meet up with some or all of the group, usually for meals, then walking around, shopping and getting fitted for clothes, and taking nap and email breaks.
My two days in Hoi An are something of a blur since I don't have many reference points in time to build memories around. The morning trip to the tailor one day is virtually the same memory as a trip to a different tailor another night. Lunches and dinners were all from different restaurants with the exact same menu. The highlights I have are the big deviations from that normal routine. On Saturday, Matt and I rented scooters and braved 4km of Vietnamese roads on the way to a great beach. The parade of ladies and children selling fruit, jewelry, frisbees, cigarettes, and massages detracted from the overall peaceful setting, but not enough to ruin my mood.
Oh, and I learned that the Swedish word for 'mullet' is hockeyfrilla.
Day 16 - Get me off this bus!
I hate busses!!!! I mean I hate them with a firey passion! So 24-hours on a bus for me is torture. Cramped, hot, and miserable; unable to read or sleep; and my iPod battery ran out about 6 hours in. It was hell on wheels.
I finally unfolded myself from the bus seat and blissfully stepped out into Hoi An, only to swarmed by hotel workers trying to get us to have a look at their rooms. This was as close as I would ever come this trip to breaking off prematurely from the group. Having picked up stragglers on the way from Hanoi, there were now nine bus-weary travelers trying to agree on hotel and sleeping arangements amid a barage of sales pitches and price negotiations. We finally agreed on a place, and had a chance to shower the bus ride away and stretch our legs.
That night after dinner everyone else went to a bar and I went promptly to one of the 200+ tailors in the city. Luckily I had made a list of the clothes I wanted made, or shopping could have gotten more out of control than it was already going to be. Three three-piece suits, a tux, five shirts, 2 pants, a pea coat, a velvet jacket, and $500 later, I joined the group for a much needed drink.
I finally unfolded myself from the bus seat and blissfully stepped out into Hoi An, only to swarmed by hotel workers trying to get us to have a look at their rooms. This was as close as I would ever come this trip to breaking off prematurely from the group. Having picked up stragglers on the way from Hanoi, there were now nine bus-weary travelers trying to agree on hotel and sleeping arangements amid a barage of sales pitches and price negotiations. We finally agreed on a place, and had a chance to shower the bus ride away and stretch our legs.
That night after dinner everyone else went to a bar and I went promptly to one of the 200+ tailors in the city. Luckily I had made a list of the clothes I wanted made, or shopping could have gotten more out of control than it was already going to be. Three three-piece suits, a tux, five shirts, 2 pants, a pea coat, a velvet jacket, and $500 later, I joined the group for a much needed drink.
Days 14 and 15 - Halong Bay, Goodbye Hanoi!
Waking up on a boat is a great feeling. You feel trapped in your freedom, that though you're confined to the boat, you're free to move anywhere on the water, with or without an agenda. As opposed to the day before, today started out great. We woke up early for breakfast on the boat and then sailed across the bay (the scenery never gets old) to Catbah Island. We went on a somewhat unimpressive hike up a mountain and through a cave. Half of us were wearing flip flops and were ill-prepared for any kind of hiking. Our guide spoke very little English and communicated by writing "mountain top --->" or "cow --->" in a notebook and showing it proudly to us.
We stopped for drinks and a rest and were introduced to the first cool kid I'd met in Vietnam - Korean kids are so much better. He was probably 3 or 4 years old and already proving to be an apt student of the emerging marking economy and tourist trade. His father had just finished selling us (expensive) drinks and gone inside, when the pupil picked up his father's abandoned wallet and started giving out cash to members of our group. He'd obviously seen his father making change and was doing his best to follow suit. This kid has a bright future ahead of him, I do believe.
After settling into our hotel, we had time to do some sightseeing on Catbah Island, and when I say I was sightseeing, I mean that I would occasionally open my eyes and look at the underside of my beach umbrella. That night we found a "hip hop" dance club that played nothing but Beatles songs. There were about 15 locals in the club, but they were all watching a David Copperfield magic show on TV, so we had the dancefloor to ourselves.
---
After a too-early breakfast it was back on the boat to Halong City, stopping for another swim en route. From Halong City, it was another bus ride from hell back to Hanoi.
Being back in Hanoi for only a couple of hours was just enough time to get some food and remember why we were so excited to leave in the first place. After the scenic tranquility of Halong Bay, Hanoi is like a kick to the head. Then it was back on a bus for a 24-hour bus ride down to Hoi An.
We stopped for drinks and a rest and were introduced to the first cool kid I'd met in Vietnam - Korean kids are so much better. He was probably 3 or 4 years old and already proving to be an apt student of the emerging marking economy and tourist trade. His father had just finished selling us (expensive) drinks and gone inside, when the pupil picked up his father's abandoned wallet and started giving out cash to members of our group. He'd obviously seen his father making change and was doing his best to follow suit. This kid has a bright future ahead of him, I do believe.
After settling into our hotel, we had time to do some sightseeing on Catbah Island, and when I say I was sightseeing, I mean that I would occasionally open my eyes and look at the underside of my beach umbrella. That night we found a "hip hop" dance club that played nothing but Beatles songs. There were about 15 locals in the club, but they were all watching a David Copperfield magic show on TV, so we had the dancefloor to ourselves.
---
After a too-early breakfast it was back on the boat to Halong City, stopping for another swim en route. From Halong City, it was another bus ride from hell back to Hanoi.
Being back in Hanoi for only a couple of hours was just enough time to get some food and remember why we were so excited to leave in the first place. After the scenic tranquility of Halong Bay, Hanoi is like a kick to the head. Then it was back on a bus for a 24-hour bus ride down to Hoi An.
Day 13 - Halong Bay
First, the good news: We're leaving Hanoi! After three days here I'm ready for a change, and scenic, tranquil Halong Bay is just what the travel doctor ordered. The bad news: We're leaving at 8am and I crawled into bed at 4:30. That's not a lot of sleep to be waking up on time and packing for a three day excursion. I think I did pretty well to only be 20 mintues late, and I might have even been on time if the hotel people checking me out of my room could do math.
After a miserable 3-hour bus ride in the smallest mini-bus in hell we arrived in Halong Bay and boared a boat, only to find that in the blur of activity that morning I had left my passport in my backpack, which was in storage at the hotel. At first I was told I wouldn't be allowed to stay on the boat, but I guess they figured it would be easier to hide me if the cops came than to find me new accomodations. Phew!
Halong Bay is beautiful. Towering mounds of rock shooting out of the water all around you. There are a couple thousand of these islands in the Bay, dotted with coves and caves, and swarming with tourist boats, little house boats, and local fishing boats putting around the islands. Around every corner there are new islands and new things to see. It's a breathtaking place.
We stopped for a quick swim in the heavy currents and murky (dirty?) water, and then went to a cave that had been made tourist-ready to the point of being more amusement park than natural wonder. The walls of the cave were covered in graffiti and the amazing stalagmite and stalagtite were all bathed in eerie red and blue lights. Dinner and sunset on the boat, and then card games and chatting until bed time. It's strange how long the evening seems when the sun goes down at 5:30. Oh, and no cops came looking for me.
After a miserable 3-hour bus ride in the smallest mini-bus in hell we arrived in Halong Bay and boared a boat, only to find that in the blur of activity that morning I had left my passport in my backpack, which was in storage at the hotel. At first I was told I wouldn't be allowed to stay on the boat, but I guess they figured it would be easier to hide me if the cops came than to find me new accomodations. Phew!
Halong Bay is beautiful. Towering mounds of rock shooting out of the water all around you. There are a couple thousand of these islands in the Bay, dotted with coves and caves, and swarming with tourist boats, little house boats, and local fishing boats putting around the islands. Around every corner there are new islands and new things to see. It's a breathtaking place.
We stopped for a quick swim in the heavy currents and murky (dirty?) water, and then went to a cave that had been made tourist-ready to the point of being more amusement park than natural wonder. The walls of the cave were covered in graffiti and the amazing stalagmite and stalagtite were all bathed in eerie red and blue lights. Dinner and sunset on the boat, and then card games and chatting until bed time. It's strange how long the evening seems when the sun goes down at 5:30. Oh, and no cops came looking for me.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Day 12 - Hanoi
Started off the day with a breakfast that the waiter couldn't seem to get right, and then went to see St. So-and-So's Cathedral. Since we were outside of visiting hours (way to consult the guide book, dumbass) we couldn't get in and were left to admire the unimpressive exterior. Deciding this was now a critical moment in our travels - just quit sightseeing and give up, or forge on and try to make the most of the day - Matt and I decided to not let Hanoi get the best of us and went off in search of souveniers and sights.
I'd been feeling a bit disillusioned with Hanoi. I hate like the "expect disappointment so you're never disappointed" philosophy, but that's how I found myself approaching most things. I started considering a meal or sight that was only a slight let down to be a resounding success.
After and hour or so of wandering, we met up with the rest of the group for lunch. We went to a place that's on Alice's list of 1000 places to see before you die. Apparantly it's the best fish in the world, and according to someone's list I'm one more sight out of 1000 closer to dying a happy man. A resounding success by all acounts!
For the afternoon I had two more sights on my list to see before leaving Hanoi, so Matt and I took off to see restored old-style Hanoi house and another temple/shrine. Feeling empowered by our triumph over the Hanoi blues, we even managed to get a little shopping done and to stop for a beer. Had a nap and wrote some email, and then we all met up for dinner and drinks. After closing one bar (it's only midnight, for crying out loud!) we were shown to some "secret" after-hours place that kept turning off the lights and music whenever the police came by.
I'd been feeling a bit disillusioned with Hanoi. I hate like the "expect disappointment so you're never disappointed" philosophy, but that's how I found myself approaching most things. I started considering a meal or sight that was only a slight let down to be a resounding success.
After and hour or so of wandering, we met up with the rest of the group for lunch. We went to a place that's on Alice's list of 1000 places to see before you die. Apparantly it's the best fish in the world, and according to someone's list I'm one more sight out of 1000 closer to dying a happy man. A resounding success by all acounts!
For the afternoon I had two more sights on my list to see before leaving Hanoi, so Matt and I took off to see restored old-style Hanoi house and another temple/shrine. Feeling empowered by our triumph over the Hanoi blues, we even managed to get a little shopping done and to stop for a beer. Had a nap and wrote some email, and then we all met up for dinner and drinks. After closing one bar (it's only midnight, for crying out loud!) we were shown to some "secret" after-hours place that kept turning off the lights and music whenever the police came by.
Day 11 - Hanoi
I slept in today for the first time in a while. I feel like I'm missing so much when I sleep late, but I really needed it and man, did i enjoy it! Getting up before 7:00 is for the birds. Or farmers. Either way it's not a label that fits me too well.
With five of us traveling together I'd forgotten how different solo traveling and group traveling are. It's great being around friendly faces and having friends to converse and go places with, but even the smallest decision when traveling with a big group becomes an act of congress.
Did a lot of sightseeing today, so I think I'm sight-seeinged out for a while. The day started off great at the Confucian Temple of Literature. It's a beautiful, peaceful place with a lot of history, some of the buildings dating back to 2001 AD. Then it was downhill to the Ho Chi Minh mosoleum - sans the body of Unlce Ho who is vacationing in Russia. After a lunch of SPAM spring rolls and warm beer, the the letdowns continued at the HCM museum, which was interesting for its communist symbology, but unremarkable for its collection of HCM memorabilia. Then onto the "Hanoi Hilton" prison, which we found to have been replaced by a highrise office building leaving one small wing of the prison complex intact. The prison museum thoroughly documented the abuse suffered by the Vietnamese prisoners at the hands of their French capteurs, and showed the smiling faces of American servicemen as they vacationed in their plush living quarters within the compound. Maybe I'm just a cynic, but the museum was too propagandized to effectively pay homage to everyone who was encarcerated and suffered there. I did get to see John McCain's flight suit, though, which was pretty cool.
Not wanting to see any more sights, it was back to the French quarter for strolling around the lake, dodging scooters and souvenier sellers, and stopping periodically at cafes for beer or coffee. I then met up with everyone for a traditional Vietnamese water puppet show, which was well worth the hefty $1.25 price tag.
With five of us traveling together I'd forgotten how different solo traveling and group traveling are. It's great being around friendly faces and having friends to converse and go places with, but even the smallest decision when traveling with a big group becomes an act of congress.
Did a lot of sightseeing today, so I think I'm sight-seeinged out for a while. The day started off great at the Confucian Temple of Literature. It's a beautiful, peaceful place with a lot of history, some of the buildings dating back to 2001 AD. Then it was downhill to the Ho Chi Minh mosoleum - sans the body of Unlce Ho who is vacationing in Russia. After a lunch of SPAM spring rolls and warm beer, the the letdowns continued at the HCM museum, which was interesting for its communist symbology, but unremarkable for its collection of HCM memorabilia. Then onto the "Hanoi Hilton" prison, which we found to have been replaced by a highrise office building leaving one small wing of the prison complex intact. The prison museum thoroughly documented the abuse suffered by the Vietnamese prisoners at the hands of their French capteurs, and showed the smiling faces of American servicemen as they vacationed in their plush living quarters within the compound. Maybe I'm just a cynic, but the museum was too propagandized to effectively pay homage to everyone who was encarcerated and suffered there. I did get to see John McCain's flight suit, though, which was pretty cool.
Not wanting to see any more sights, it was back to the French quarter for strolling around the lake, dodging scooters and souvenier sellers, and stopping periodically at cafes for beer or coffee. I then met up with everyone for a traditional Vietnamese water puppet show, which was well worth the hefty $1.25 price tag.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Day 10 - China to Vietnam
This is Vietnam, man. Roll with it. I crossed into Vietnam today, and after a couple of taxis I got on a minibus going to Hanoi. After we had been on the road for about 15 minutes our van was pulled over, two guys in military uniform got on and made us turn around. They took us to this shady looking compoud where everyone and their luggage was taken off and the van was searched. Nobody else seemed to be freaking out, so I figured I could wait until someone else was worrying before I started. After about 10 minutes of having no idea what was going on we got back on the van (minus two people and a lot of packages) and were back on the road to Hanoi. This is Vietnam, man. Roll with it.
This morning I woke up really early, lightened my load by about 10 pounds by leaving the China Lonely Planet (goodbye, old friend!) on the nightstand, and caught a train to a town right on the border with Vietnam. We passed some beautiful countryside. Steep black mountains shooting up out of thick rice paddies. There were hundreds of these mountains, but they didn't seem to follow any ridgeline or range. More like weathered old men standing watch over the fields.
The terrain in Vietnam is much more mountainous. Steep, rugged towers huddled together on one side of the road. The other side of the road is dotted with smaller hills and terraced rice paddies. The houses here are very different from the ones in China. All along the road and in towns along the way the same style of house dominates. An apt symbol for Vietnam and its people, these structures are very utilitarian under a facade of bright colors and ornate decorations. Three sides of these houses are all the same square, gray pillbox, but the fronts have been made bright and unique reflections of their owners. Bright teals, yellows, and oranges, with decorative trimming and ornate stucco mouldings. It's quite a contrast to the run-down apartment blocks in China.
I finally made it to Hanoi and met up with Matt at our hotel. It's SOOO great to see a friendly face and hear a North American accent. In nine days of traveling in China, I only met two Americans. I really think I was starting to pick up an English accent. I'm gonna miss China, but I'm glad to be in Vietnam. English is more widely spoken here and it's much more user-friendly than China. In fact it's a completely different atmosphere. There are more tourists, coffee shops (say what you will about the French, but they really had the cafe and lounging culture figured out), and a much more western or European feel to it. It's a nice change of pace.
This morning I woke up really early, lightened my load by about 10 pounds by leaving the China Lonely Planet (goodbye, old friend!) on the nightstand, and caught a train to a town right on the border with Vietnam. We passed some beautiful countryside. Steep black mountains shooting up out of thick rice paddies. There were hundreds of these mountains, but they didn't seem to follow any ridgeline or range. More like weathered old men standing watch over the fields.
The terrain in Vietnam is much more mountainous. Steep, rugged towers huddled together on one side of the road. The other side of the road is dotted with smaller hills and terraced rice paddies. The houses here are very different from the ones in China. All along the road and in towns along the way the same style of house dominates. An apt symbol for Vietnam and its people, these structures are very utilitarian under a facade of bright colors and ornate decorations. Three sides of these houses are all the same square, gray pillbox, but the fronts have been made bright and unique reflections of their owners. Bright teals, yellows, and oranges, with decorative trimming and ornate stucco mouldings. It's quite a contrast to the run-down apartment blocks in China.
I finally made it to Hanoi and met up with Matt at our hotel. It's SOOO great to see a friendly face and hear a North American accent. In nine days of traveling in China, I only met two Americans. I really think I was starting to pick up an English accent. I'm gonna miss China, but I'm glad to be in Vietnam. English is more widely spoken here and it's much more user-friendly than China. In fact it's a completely different atmosphere. There are more tourists, coffee shops (say what you will about the French, but they really had the cafe and lounging culture figured out), and a much more western or European feel to it. It's a nice change of pace.
Day 9 - Nanning - Bye bye, Xi'an
Woke up insanely early to catch a bus to the airport. The shuttle was only a quick walk from my new hostel, so I'm especially glad I moved. Having made peace with Xi'an, I was sorry to be leaving. Initially a place I wanted to leave right away, I now regard it as a place I could potentially revisit. I'm glad to be leaving on good terms.
If you should find yourself heading to Xi'an, heed these imperatives to ensure a pleasant stay:
1) DO NOT, under any circumstance, stay in a hotel near the train or bus stations. Find a place between the Bell Tower and South Gate, and limit your time around the stations to catching transportation in and out of the city. Period.
2) At the Terracotta Army museum, view Pits 2 and 3 before you even think about looking at Pit 1. Tour guide optional.
3) Go to Hans, and let him work his magic.
I caught a flight to Nanning, China, from where I would cross into Vietnam the following day. On the approach to Nanning I noticed the landscape was a colorful patchwork of fields with clusters of stone and brick farmhouses. The drive to the city from the airport was along a wide, modern highway with landscaped flower beds on either side, bright yellows and reds like I remember seeing in Saigon last spring. In fact, this is more remniscent of HCM than Beijing or Xi'an. The weather is warmer, the dialect sounds more like Vietnamese (like cats fighting, and not the whispy, citrusy sounds of Mandarin), and there's a more laid back feel to everything. I haven't seen any other westerners since I've been here, and I get a lot more stares than I'm used to. I don't, however, get accosted to buy something every time I pass a store front. To be honest, I kindof miss the attention.
After finding a decent place to say - a private bathroom!!! - I purchased my train ticket for the following morning and wandered around the city. The city itself didn't quite live up to the expectations I had on arrival. There are more parks, flowers, and landscaping than up north, but otherwise it's an unremarkable city. If it wasn't a staging post for crossing to Vietnam, I couldn't see any real reason for coming here. Maybe that's why mine is the only white face in the crowd.
My hotel room also has a TV, which I haven't had anywhere else. Chinese TV is the worst.
If you should find yourself heading to Xi'an, heed these imperatives to ensure a pleasant stay:
1) DO NOT, under any circumstance, stay in a hotel near the train or bus stations. Find a place between the Bell Tower and South Gate, and limit your time around the stations to catching transportation in and out of the city. Period.
2) At the Terracotta Army museum, view Pits 2 and 3 before you even think about looking at Pit 1. Tour guide optional.
3) Go to Hans, and let him work his magic.
I caught a flight to Nanning, China, from where I would cross into Vietnam the following day. On the approach to Nanning I noticed the landscape was a colorful patchwork of fields with clusters of stone and brick farmhouses. The drive to the city from the airport was along a wide, modern highway with landscaped flower beds on either side, bright yellows and reds like I remember seeing in Saigon last spring. In fact, this is more remniscent of HCM than Beijing or Xi'an. The weather is warmer, the dialect sounds more like Vietnamese (like cats fighting, and not the whispy, citrusy sounds of Mandarin), and there's a more laid back feel to everything. I haven't seen any other westerners since I've been here, and I get a lot more stares than I'm used to. I don't, however, get accosted to buy something every time I pass a store front. To be honest, I kindof miss the attention.
After finding a decent place to say - a private bathroom!!! - I purchased my train ticket for the following morning and wandered around the city. The city itself didn't quite live up to the expectations I had on arrival. There are more parks, flowers, and landscaping than up north, but otherwise it's an unremarkable city. If it wasn't a staging post for crossing to Vietnam, I couldn't see any real reason for coming here. Maybe that's why mine is the only white face in the crowd.
My hotel room also has a TV, which I haven't had anywhere else. Chinese TV is the worst.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Day 8 - Xi'an - The City Redeemed, and the Terracotta Army
First thing's first: change hotels. I don't guess I really spent much time around my hotel today, but moving gave me a good peace of mind. I checked into the Bell Tower Youth Hostel, right in the center of town and away from the seediness of the North Gate. After checking in I found some more meats on sticks and pancake things and started walking back towards the bus station. Finding the right bus was another exercise in patience, but eventually I found myself in the right place and on my way to see the Terracotta Army.
Note: This site is an active archeological site, with excavations currently underway, but to keep the site safe and to be able to acomodate the swarm of tourists, modern museum-like buildings have been built around all of the excavation sites. One guy I met said he was really let down by this because it all seemed too much like a hospital and detracted from the power of the natural surroundings. I don't necessarily agree with him, but I see his point.
Arriving at the museum was a lot like arriving at an amusement park. We were greeted by a sea of asphalt and cars, followed by vendors and souvenier stands, followed by more walking, and punctuated by a hefty entrance fee ($10 is much more than I'm accustomed to paying these days). On the walk to the gate I met James and Nikki, with whom I would spend the next few hours looking at mud. I had been told the best course of action for viewing the site was to start at the end and work your way back to the first pit excavated. This was the best advice I'd been given all trip and ensured that this experience wouldn't be a letdown. Pits 2 and 3 were found later and have only been very partially excavated, with very few pieces intact or reconstructed. It's good to see those first becuase you can get a better idea of the process of excavating and reconstructing the army. Pit 1, by comparison, is amazing. It's much larger than the other two, and there are hundreds of soldiers rebulit and aligned as they would have originally been. It was quite an impressive site to behold. Somewhat regretfully we declined a private tour guide. I'm sure that would have filled in a lot of gaps, but left to speculate on our own and to eaves drop on other tour groups, we had a lot of fun.
Back in Xi'an James, Nikki, and I went down to the Muslim Quarter to take in the sights and get some dinner. We ordered way too much food (delicious food), finished about half of it, and then parted ways. They were off to catch a night train, and I was off to catch a massage.
After getting a recommendation for a masseuse from the hostel, being sure to specify that I wanted a REAL massage and not the pink neon and miniskirt kind, I found myself in the capable hands of Hans. I had heard about the traditional Chinese Guasha cupping massage and wanted to experience it while in China. When in Rome.... After beating me senseless for close to an hour, repeatedly telling me, "Oh no. Your back is very bad!", and TRYING to get all the knots out of my back (he only had an hour, after all), Hans started with the Guasha massage.
This technique involves using a flame to heat the air inside a glass jar and then putting the jar on the patient's back. As the air inside cools it creates a suction that's supposed to pull all the bad stuff out of your skin. The jars are left on for about 15 minutes and the skin in the bell bulges out because of the suction. The result was 15 minutes of feeling like my insides wanted to be outside, followed by 2 minutes of stinging and buring as the jars were removed, followed by 25 big purple circles on my back and shoulders that are going to stick around for a while. My back looks disgusting now, like I was trying to run away from someone pelting me with baseballs. It'll probably be like this for a while. Gross, but I feel better!
Hans was quite an interesting character and I'm so glad for the chance to talk with him and to get a brief glimpse into life here. He never went to college but taught himself several massage techniques. As his English is the best at the parlor, he gets all the western clients and has an impressive collection of photographs and warm wishes from his customers. He recently married (all of this was told to me, by the way, while he first tried to break my back and then suck the spine out of my skin) and his wife works at the parlor, too. They live at the parlor and room and board are provided by their boss, but they're not really paid. His monthly salary is about $100-$120. He said he was looking for opportunities to meet more clients and to maybe move into one of the hostels and work strictly on backpackers. He asked if I would help him write an introduction or sales pitch, and I happily obliged. We exchanged emails and well wishes, and I went back to my hostel a little more sore, but much less stiff.
Oh, and for one hour of pounding and the Guasha cupping massage, I paid $4.
Note: This site is an active archeological site, with excavations currently underway, but to keep the site safe and to be able to acomodate the swarm of tourists, modern museum-like buildings have been built around all of the excavation sites. One guy I met said he was really let down by this because it all seemed too much like a hospital and detracted from the power of the natural surroundings. I don't necessarily agree with him, but I see his point.
Arriving at the museum was a lot like arriving at an amusement park. We were greeted by a sea of asphalt and cars, followed by vendors and souvenier stands, followed by more walking, and punctuated by a hefty entrance fee ($10 is much more than I'm accustomed to paying these days). On the walk to the gate I met James and Nikki, with whom I would spend the next few hours looking at mud. I had been told the best course of action for viewing the site was to start at the end and work your way back to the first pit excavated. This was the best advice I'd been given all trip and ensured that this experience wouldn't be a letdown. Pits 2 and 3 were found later and have only been very partially excavated, with very few pieces intact or reconstructed. It's good to see those first becuase you can get a better idea of the process of excavating and reconstructing the army. Pit 1, by comparison, is amazing. It's much larger than the other two, and there are hundreds of soldiers rebulit and aligned as they would have originally been. It was quite an impressive site to behold. Somewhat regretfully we declined a private tour guide. I'm sure that would have filled in a lot of gaps, but left to speculate on our own and to eaves drop on other tour groups, we had a lot of fun.
Back in Xi'an James, Nikki, and I went down to the Muslim Quarter to take in the sights and get some dinner. We ordered way too much food (delicious food), finished about half of it, and then parted ways. They were off to catch a night train, and I was off to catch a massage.
After getting a recommendation for a masseuse from the hostel, being sure to specify that I wanted a REAL massage and not the pink neon and miniskirt kind, I found myself in the capable hands of Hans. I had heard about the traditional Chinese Guasha cupping massage and wanted to experience it while in China. When in Rome.... After beating me senseless for close to an hour, repeatedly telling me, "Oh no. Your back is very bad!", and TRYING to get all the knots out of my back (he only had an hour, after all), Hans started with the Guasha massage.
This technique involves using a flame to heat the air inside a glass jar and then putting the jar on the patient's back. As the air inside cools it creates a suction that's supposed to pull all the bad stuff out of your skin. The jars are left on for about 15 minutes and the skin in the bell bulges out because of the suction. The result was 15 minutes of feeling like my insides wanted to be outside, followed by 2 minutes of stinging and buring as the jars were removed, followed by 25 big purple circles on my back and shoulders that are going to stick around for a while. My back looks disgusting now, like I was trying to run away from someone pelting me with baseballs. It'll probably be like this for a while. Gross, but I feel better!
Hans was quite an interesting character and I'm so glad for the chance to talk with him and to get a brief glimpse into life here. He never went to college but taught himself several massage techniques. As his English is the best at the parlor, he gets all the western clients and has an impressive collection of photographs and warm wishes from his customers. He recently married (all of this was told to me, by the way, while he first tried to break my back and then suck the spine out of my skin) and his wife works at the parlor, too. They live at the parlor and room and board are provided by their boss, but they're not really paid. His monthly salary is about $100-$120. He said he was looking for opportunities to meet more clients and to maybe move into one of the hostels and work strictly on backpackers. He asked if I would help him write an introduction or sales pitch, and I happily obliged. We exchanged emails and well wishes, and I went back to my hostel a little more sore, but much less stiff.
Oh, and for one hour of pounding and the Guasha cupping massage, I paid $4.
Day 7 - Xi'an - Get Me Out of Here!
My spirits are low today. Very low. Xi'an has completely taken the wind out of my sails. Maybe it's partly to do with the weather again, but there's something about this city and the people that I haven't noticed elsewhere. Nobody is smiling, there's no hope in their eyes, no look of life. I felt it, too, as soon as I got here and before I noticed anyone else's expression. It's not the poverty, either, really. This level of poverty exisits everywhere, but in Beijing, at least, the people seemed happy and content. There was light in their eyes. For living in such a huge city, the residents of Beijing kept a sense of community. The neighborhoods were like families. Here the neighborhoods are housing developments or run down apartment blocks. There are "massage" parlors on every street, and there's a seediness I hadn't noticed elsewhere while traveling.
I'm sitting on a street corner watching people go about their day, and there's almost no interaction among them, similar to the way New Yorkers walk to and from work, but here's it's done at about half speed, with no purpose or determination. It's almost as if they're walking because there's nothing else to do and no real place to go. Even the traffic is lethargic and I don't hear any car horns.
Xi'an is an ancient walled city and the walls, for the most part, are still intact. I feel trapped here. If you look down most streets in the city, through the thick curtain of smog, at the end of the street you'll see a brown, impassable stone wall. I get the impression the locals feel it, too. A lot of people passing me on the street regard me with a blank curiosity, as if to ask, "What are you doing here and how did you get in?"
I really just want to leave.
After a frustrating time tring to book a ticket to Hanoi (no, dumbass, I don't want to fly via Frankfurt, Germany ten days from now), I decided I should try to give the city a second chance. The focal point of the town and my first tourist stop was the old town bell tower, which is impressive to see from across the street, but quite lacklustre to walk around in. Just on the other side of a park is the 'sister' tower, the drum tower. It looked so similar to the bell tower that I took a picture from across the street and didn't bother paying the $2 to walk around inside.
But just past the drum tower I found the Muslim Quarter of the city and my spirits lifted a bit. Finally! Here was the humanity I had been looking for all day. Busy street vendors, the smell of food wafting from road-side stalls, neighbors helping eachother fix a shop door, smiles!! I'm a little sorry I was so hard on Xi'an this morning. After haggling for some art and trying lots of little food stalls, I toured the Grand Mosque and relaxed in its beautiful courtyards, trying to listen in on some passing tour groups.
After the mosque I found some more food vendors and then caught a cab to the Shaanxi History Museum, supposedly the newest and best museum in China. It had an impressive collection of artifacts from all periods of China's history, but unfortunately I wasn't in much of a historical artifact mood. I decided to eaves drop on tour groups and to people watch instead, which was much more fun. If nothing else, the architecture of the museum is quite impressive.
I had the cabbie drop me off at the south gate of the city. With the sun getting low in the sky I was hoping I could catch a sunset from atop the city walls, but I couldn't find any stairs to the top so I wandered around the South Gate district of the city. I couldn't believe it! More shops, antique and art stalls, interesting architecture, and busy with people! Happy people! As opposed to the seedy North, South Xi'an is a vibrant, clean, delightful place. This city is really growing on me. After some time in an internet cafe and finding some more street food and meats on sticks, I caught a cab back to my seedy hotel in the seedy north part of town. I'll be changing hotels tomorrow.
I'm sitting on a street corner watching people go about their day, and there's almost no interaction among them, similar to the way New Yorkers walk to and from work, but here's it's done at about half speed, with no purpose or determination. It's almost as if they're walking because there's nothing else to do and no real place to go. Even the traffic is lethargic and I don't hear any car horns.
Xi'an is an ancient walled city and the walls, for the most part, are still intact. I feel trapped here. If you look down most streets in the city, through the thick curtain of smog, at the end of the street you'll see a brown, impassable stone wall. I get the impression the locals feel it, too. A lot of people passing me on the street regard me with a blank curiosity, as if to ask, "What are you doing here and how did you get in?"
I really just want to leave.
After a frustrating time tring to book a ticket to Hanoi (no, dumbass, I don't want to fly via Frankfurt, Germany ten days from now), I decided I should try to give the city a second chance. The focal point of the town and my first tourist stop was the old town bell tower, which is impressive to see from across the street, but quite lacklustre to walk around in. Just on the other side of a park is the 'sister' tower, the drum tower. It looked so similar to the bell tower that I took a picture from across the street and didn't bother paying the $2 to walk around inside.
But just past the drum tower I found the Muslim Quarter of the city and my spirits lifted a bit. Finally! Here was the humanity I had been looking for all day. Busy street vendors, the smell of food wafting from road-side stalls, neighbors helping eachother fix a shop door, smiles!! I'm a little sorry I was so hard on Xi'an this morning. After haggling for some art and trying lots of little food stalls, I toured the Grand Mosque and relaxed in its beautiful courtyards, trying to listen in on some passing tour groups.
After the mosque I found some more food vendors and then caught a cab to the Shaanxi History Museum, supposedly the newest and best museum in China. It had an impressive collection of artifacts from all periods of China's history, but unfortunately I wasn't in much of a historical artifact mood. I decided to eaves drop on tour groups and to people watch instead, which was much more fun. If nothing else, the architecture of the museum is quite impressive.
I had the cabbie drop me off at the south gate of the city. With the sun getting low in the sky I was hoping I could catch a sunset from atop the city walls, but I couldn't find any stairs to the top so I wandered around the South Gate district of the city. I couldn't believe it! More shops, antique and art stalls, interesting architecture, and busy with people! Happy people! As opposed to the seedy North, South Xi'an is a vibrant, clean, delightful place. This city is really growing on me. After some time in an internet cafe and finding some more street food and meats on sticks, I caught a cab back to my seedy hotel in the seedy north part of town. I'll be changing hotels tomorrow.
Day 6 - Beijing - Bye bye, Beijing (in Brief)
Woke up early to see Mao's body on display only to find it's closed on Mondays. Breakfast and checked out of the hostel, and then went to the Pearl Market to do some more Christmas shopping. Spent a lot of money, but had a great time haggling, and even - hopefully not regretfully - bought a set of "Mizuno" golf clubs and had them shipped home. Then I took all the gifts I'd bought in Beijing to the post office. Ate dinner, packed, and then left to catch the night train to Xi'an. An uneventful 14-hour trip crammed in my top bunk. I slept pretty well considering 3 of the other 5 people in the car were snoring.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Day 5 - Beijing - The Great Wall of China
Getting up at the crack of dawn and climbing into a van for a 3-hour drive isn't how I choose to start many days, but knowing that in a few hours I'd be putting a check next to something on my life's to-do list, I decided I could make an exception in this case.
I would be walking about a 10km stretch of the Great Wall starting in Jinshanling, and ending in Simatai. This being my only Great Wall experience, I can't compare this section of the wall to others, but I do know this was an amazing trip.
If you're lucky enough to be able to walk on the wall you will notice, in order of decreasing obviousness, 1) "out-of-work" Mongolian farmers, 2) some pretty tricky walking conditions, and 3) that you're walking on the Great Wall of China.
At all points from start to finish there are people yelling at you, "Hello, postcard!" or, "Hello, Cokawaterbeer!" If you slip up and make eye contact with one, they'll follow you for a while trying to get you to buy something (anything!) and tell you about how they're a farmer from Mongolia who's out of work. "Well of course you are," you think. "You can't be taking great care of your farm if you're up here on this wall selling T-shirts." The majority, however, were really pleasant, well-meaning people and left me alone after a friendly, "No, thank you."
The tour groups to this part of the wall were relatively few in number, and mostly limited to younger, more able walkers. Just as with most tourist attractions, it's hard to take a picture without someone else in it, but unlike some other places, it was actually possible to walk here without rubbing shoulders with others and to find some time to yourself.
By the time I had reached the end of my trek I had taken close to 150 pictures. It's just one wall, but around every bend the wall and the surroundings take on a new life. The curves are different, the slopes are different, the towers are in varying states of repair, and from this spot a section of wall snaking over a distant mountain ridge might be visible. It's truly breathtaking at every point.
The wall in Simatai has a stunning natural setting: a deep gorge, steep cliffs, and a green river. It also has the man-made fanfare to match: A wire bridge crossing the river, a newly paved footpath leading away from the wall, vendors, bathrooms, restaurants, hostels, a chairlift, and a zip-line ("Zhe Flying Fox," one Dutch traveler said to another). The wall at Jinshanling, however, lacks the modern tourist amenities and was a perfect place to start my walk on the wall.
To-do:
Walk on the Great Wall of China. CHECK.
I would be walking about a 10km stretch of the Great Wall starting in Jinshanling, and ending in Simatai. This being my only Great Wall experience, I can't compare this section of the wall to others, but I do know this was an amazing trip.
If you're lucky enough to be able to walk on the wall you will notice, in order of decreasing obviousness, 1) "out-of-work" Mongolian farmers, 2) some pretty tricky walking conditions, and 3) that you're walking on the Great Wall of China.
At all points from start to finish there are people yelling at you, "Hello, postcard!" or, "Hello, Cokawaterbeer!" If you slip up and make eye contact with one, they'll follow you for a while trying to get you to buy something (anything!) and tell you about how they're a farmer from Mongolia who's out of work. "Well of course you are," you think. "You can't be taking great care of your farm if you're up here on this wall selling T-shirts." The majority, however, were really pleasant, well-meaning people and left me alone after a friendly, "No, thank you."
The tour groups to this part of the wall were relatively few in number, and mostly limited to younger, more able walkers. Just as with most tourist attractions, it's hard to take a picture without someone else in it, but unlike some other places, it was actually possible to walk here without rubbing shoulders with others and to find some time to yourself.
By the time I had reached the end of my trek I had taken close to 150 pictures. It's just one wall, but around every bend the wall and the surroundings take on a new life. The curves are different, the slopes are different, the towers are in varying states of repair, and from this spot a section of wall snaking over a distant mountain ridge might be visible. It's truly breathtaking at every point.
The wall in Simatai has a stunning natural setting: a deep gorge, steep cliffs, and a green river. It also has the man-made fanfare to match: A wire bridge crossing the river, a newly paved footpath leading away from the wall, vendors, bathrooms, restaurants, hostels, a chairlift, and a zip-line ("Zhe Flying Fox," one Dutch traveler said to another). The wall at Jinshanling, however, lacks the modern tourist amenities and was a perfect place to start my walk on the wall.
To-do:
Walk on the Great Wall of China. CHECK.
Day 4 - Beijing - Saturday in Beijing
After waking up relatively early and running some errands, I walked over to Tienamen Square to people watch, do a little writing, and to rest up for my big adventure: biking to the Summer Palace outside of Beijing. Once in the square, however, I was approached by no fewer than 20 people selling postcards, maps, or Mao watches, and while my cold shoulder repelled most of them a couple sat next to me for a while and asked me a lot of questions about America and how much I'd be willing to pay for some postcards.
Deciding I would never have any peace, I rented a bike (brakes cost extra, apparantly) and started my epic-length journey to the Summer Palace, about 8 miles from the city center. The Lonely Planet book said the trip should take 1.5 - 2 hours, but apparantly they've never tried to make the trip using their own map. So with getting lost, traffic, and having to follow the grid of streets instead of the crow's path, the trip took about 3 hours and I'm guessing about 10 miles. Arriving at the Summer Palace this way is quite rewarding, though, and to anyone with a day to spare and in halfway decent shape, I recommend this trip highly.
I had envisioned a retreat of pristine serenity, worthy of the emperors of ancient China, where I could rest my bike weary legs under a shade tree, have Zhang Ziyi feed me grapes, and get caught up on some writing. Instead I found a sea of tour groups and locals all trying to find their own little patch of serenity and photo ops. I'm sure mass chaos and aggrivation isn't what the designers had in mind, but it's what they got! And that's what I get for going on a Saturday.
The Summer Palace is situated stunningly on a lake, with a large hill at one end. On top of the hill is a Buddhist shrine and a pre-Olympics construction site. Since most of the tour group activities were taking place around the lake, I was able to escape most of the crowd atop the hill and around some rocky corners, but every time I stopped long enough to relax, some German tourists would undoubtedly file past, just as thrilled, I'm sure, to see me as I was to see them.
If you've ever had ants or pests in your apartment, you know the feeling on triumph when your strict regimine of eradication and cleanliness seems to have beeten the bugs and won you a solid stretch of pest free time, and then that feeling of complete exhaspiration when one clambers over your toast. This is the Summer Palace on a Saturday.
Deciding I would never have any peace, I rented a bike (brakes cost extra, apparantly) and started my epic-length journey to the Summer Palace, about 8 miles from the city center. The Lonely Planet book said the trip should take 1.5 - 2 hours, but apparantly they've never tried to make the trip using their own map. So with getting lost, traffic, and having to follow the grid of streets instead of the crow's path, the trip took about 3 hours and I'm guessing about 10 miles. Arriving at the Summer Palace this way is quite rewarding, though, and to anyone with a day to spare and in halfway decent shape, I recommend this trip highly.
I had envisioned a retreat of pristine serenity, worthy of the emperors of ancient China, where I could rest my bike weary legs under a shade tree, have Zhang Ziyi feed me grapes, and get caught up on some writing. Instead I found a sea of tour groups and locals all trying to find their own little patch of serenity and photo ops. I'm sure mass chaos and aggrivation isn't what the designers had in mind, but it's what they got! And that's what I get for going on a Saturday.
The Summer Palace is situated stunningly on a lake, with a large hill at one end. On top of the hill is a Buddhist shrine and a pre-Olympics construction site. Since most of the tour group activities were taking place around the lake, I was able to escape most of the crowd atop the hill and around some rocky corners, but every time I stopped long enough to relax, some German tourists would undoubtedly file past, just as thrilled, I'm sure, to see me as I was to see them.
If you've ever had ants or pests in your apartment, you know the feeling on triumph when your strict regimine of eradication and cleanliness seems to have beeten the bugs and won you a solid stretch of pest free time, and then that feeling of complete exhaspiration when one clambers over your toast. This is the Summer Palace on a Saturday.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Day 2 - Beijing
Waking up to the sound of a downpour on your first vacation morning can be a bit of a downer, so I did the only thing my headache would let me think to do, I went back to sleep.
By the time I finally got up and moving, the rain was coming to an end, so I dressed quickly and headed out. I started walking, figuring that once I found some breakfast I would just hop in a cab and save myself the 6 mile walk to the Vietnam embassy (to get my visa). I'll never know why I didn't just stop somewhere, but I just kept walking and walking. I guess I was feeling empowered by the blue skies starting to peek out from behind the rain. The weather was great today.
On the way back I stopped for some snacks (hadn't eaten since the night before) and McDonald's. It's been over a year since I've eaten at McD's, and the only reason I decided to break my streak was that a friend told me, "McDonalds' in China are AMAZING!" Turns out a Big Mac in China is the same as a Big Mac at home, but maybe half the price.
On my way walking back to town I was approached by a few college students. The first guy told me he was studying Art and English, and wanted to know if I could come see an exhibit his school was putting on nearby. I respectfully declined citing urgent errands, to which replied, "Okay. Thank you. I wish that you could be a more handsome man."
*sigh*
The next student that came up to me I decided to entertain for a while, lest I be insulted again. Since I didn't really have any place to be, I went by her school's exhibit to see what all the fuss was about. She and a friend showed me a lot of paintings, both traditional and modern styles, and explained a lot about the art and the meanings. It was quite informative. They then, of course, asked me if I wanted to buy any of the paintings. I respectfully declined (a few times), paid their art many well-deserved compliments, and set out on my way again...ego intact.
I hadn't planned on seeing the Forbidden City today, but I found myself standing out front with two hours until closing time, so I figured I should go ahead and see what I could. Now the palace is truly amazing. It's vast, and beautiful, and the first 5 minutes were awe inspring. Now probably this would have been a mind blowing experience if 1) there hadn't been tour groups by the busload walking in front of eachother's photo ops, and 2) I hadn't seen any of the Korean palaces (and with a fraction of the crowds). The Forbidden City has a lot of size and mystique that the Korean palaces don't, but the layout and the visuals are similar, and I found myself breezing through a lot of it (mostly because of the crowds). I did, however, really enjoy wandering around the courtyards and alleyways off of the main tour route. There were fewer people and I was finally able to imagine it as it might have been hundreds of years ago: me taking a break from my kung-fu practice and poetry writing, playfully chasing concubines (played by Zhang Ziyi, or course) from courtyard to courtyard. Then I ruined the illusion by having a coffee at the Starbucks inside the Forbidden City, replacing Zhang Ziyi with a Grande Caramel Macchiato. Bad move.
By the time I finally got up and moving, the rain was coming to an end, so I dressed quickly and headed out. I started walking, figuring that once I found some breakfast I would just hop in a cab and save myself the 6 mile walk to the Vietnam embassy (to get my visa). I'll never know why I didn't just stop somewhere, but I just kept walking and walking. I guess I was feeling empowered by the blue skies starting to peek out from behind the rain. The weather was great today.
On the way back I stopped for some snacks (hadn't eaten since the night before) and McDonald's. It's been over a year since I've eaten at McD's, and the only reason I decided to break my streak was that a friend told me, "McDonalds' in China are AMAZING!" Turns out a Big Mac in China is the same as a Big Mac at home, but maybe half the price.
On my way walking back to town I was approached by a few college students. The first guy told me he was studying Art and English, and wanted to know if I could come see an exhibit his school was putting on nearby. I respectfully declined citing urgent errands, to which replied, "Okay. Thank you. I wish that you could be a more handsome man."
*sigh*
The next student that came up to me I decided to entertain for a while, lest I be insulted again. Since I didn't really have any place to be, I went by her school's exhibit to see what all the fuss was about. She and a friend showed me a lot of paintings, both traditional and modern styles, and explained a lot about the art and the meanings. It was quite informative. They then, of course, asked me if I wanted to buy any of the paintings. I respectfully declined (a few times), paid their art many well-deserved compliments, and set out on my way again...ego intact.
I hadn't planned on seeing the Forbidden City today, but I found myself standing out front with two hours until closing time, so I figured I should go ahead and see what I could. Now the palace is truly amazing. It's vast, and beautiful, and the first 5 minutes were awe inspring. Now probably this would have been a mind blowing experience if 1) there hadn't been tour groups by the busload walking in front of eachother's photo ops, and 2) I hadn't seen any of the Korean palaces (and with a fraction of the crowds). The Forbidden City has a lot of size and mystique that the Korean palaces don't, but the layout and the visuals are similar, and I found myself breezing through a lot of it (mostly because of the crowds). I did, however, really enjoy wandering around the courtyards and alleyways off of the main tour route. There were fewer people and I was finally able to imagine it as it might have been hundreds of years ago: me taking a break from my kung-fu practice and poetry writing, playfully chasing concubines (played by Zhang Ziyi, or course) from courtyard to courtyard. Then I ruined the illusion by having a coffee at the Starbucks inside the Forbidden City, replacing Zhang Ziyi with a Grande Caramel Macchiato. Bad move.
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