All posts by AbandontheCube

Tashkurgan Stone City - Princess Fortress

At the end of a tree-lined street, we stopped at an old clay fortress. We discovered that it was over 1300 years old. Middle Eastern / Central Asia in design, the fortress stood watch over a beautiful green valley. It was easy to envision the structure being the only building in the area protecting the furthest boundaries of various dynasties or empires. After getting some pictures on the fort, I turned to look at the Pamirs. It was almost crazy to imagine that just over that range was Afghanistan. The valley below the fortress was full of small huts and streams going through the lumps of green sod. We ventured out into the valley and found that all of the streams were fed by bubbling springs all over the valley. A quaint wooden bridges arched over several sections of the stream so herders could cross their fields. We then collected some food and water and headed back for Kashgar.

After several hours on the road again, seeing the same scenery – which was equally beautiful in reverse – our driver suddenly jerked the wheel off the road. We started a bumpy ride toward a massive mountain range across a small desert. Initially, I thought we were just going off-road a little ways to get a picture. After about 15 -20 minutes though, it was pretty clear that we were going all the way to the mountains. Somewhat of an unscheduled stop, the driver turned around smiling and said, “We are going to that peak right there. You can see some ice.” At least that is what I got in Chinese. The road got even worse and we started jumping rocks and small boulders with the jeep. And by “road” I mean middle of nowhere randomly driving across a desert.

After an hour or so, we started inching our way up and down hills and valleys to find a safe pass to the mountain range.

Suddenly, the driver dropped the jeep into a rocky Spring melt river bank. The jeep immediately became stuck in the snow. Everyone exited the vehicle, and started to help the driver dig it out. I was wondering, “Are we going to spend the night up here because, even if we do get it out of the snow, how do we get out of the river bank?” However, to my amazement we got back in the jeep and continued across the boulders and rocks. The driver was insistent that he drive us to where we needed to be. We requested that he stop so we can hike up the rest of the way. With a sigh of disgust, he stopped in the bank and we hiked for about 1 ½ hours to the edge of a glacier.

The landscape was beautiful. A beautiful white glacier was dipping into a valley between the mountains. We climbed around the glacier and took pictures for a while. Looking around in the other directions was equally amazing. Looking at the towering peaks above us, the clouds swirl by so quickly. However, maybe I was just dizzy as we were now well over 4800 meters or about 3 miles above sea level. As I turned West, there were dust devils whirling in the desert and a snow storm approaching through the middle. We quickly made our decent and headed back to the jeep. It took us about 30 minutes to build up a rock ladder for the jeep to get out of the melt bank. I am glad we did not blow a tire or hook the frame on a rock. It would have been a very cold way to end it all, but at least the scenery was nice. We eventually made it through a small sand storm and were back on the road to Kashgar.

We have a video but it will not upload, we will do our best to add it soon.

If you are interested in doing a trip like this from Kashgar, it will talk about 1 full day from Kashgar to Lake Karakul, and then another day to Tashkurgan, the glacier, and back to Kashgar around 9 or 10 at night. Don’t forget to bring your passport as there was at least one document check before we got to Lake Karakul. There were several Chinese police stations policing this “Autonomous” Tajik Region of Xinjiang, China, so there may be more checks in the future.

Yurt on Lake Karakul

Sleeping at around 3500 meters was an interesting, if not involved exercise. The Kyrgyz woman bundled blankets and furs together to create makeshift bedrolls for us. The weight of the blankets was so much, it made it difficult to breath in the high altitude. We fell asleep to the soft flicker and glow of the dung-burning stove used for heat and cooking. The next morning, a rugged looking Kyrgyz man opened the wooden door to the yurt and was followed by a huge gust of mountain air. Standing at about 5’5’’, the man wore a leather jacket , a warm looking brown Russian style fur hat, and big black boots. With a half smile on his face, he clapped his hands, signaling it was time to wake up.

I crawled literally, under the weight, out of bed to put on my shoes and fleece, and then walked down to Lake Karakul. The water was a dark blue grayish color with areas of light blue from the phosphorous I assume – and hope. I knelled down next to the bank and stuck my hands in the water, then washed my face. The water was so cold I had never been so awake in my entire life. After returning to the yurt, we ate a quick meal of noodles and yak meat then got in the jeep and left for the day.

The jeep sped down the Karakorum Highway, passing several locals selling colored rocks they had supposedly found in the lake. As we rode for a few hours, we found ourselves in a narrow valley between two mountain ranges. Occasionally, these resembled rock canyons one may find in the Southwestern United States. At other times, massive jagged snow covered peaks jutted up into the sky resembling nothing I had ever seen…or probably ever will again. At two points during the drive, we saw massive green valleys between the mountains that looked like scenery from a fairy tale.

After about 3 hours from Lake Karakul, we arrived in the town of Tashkurgan. Tashkurgan is located in far Western China’s XinJiang Provence and borders Afghanistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and is very close to Pakistan. As we pulled into town, the Pamir Mountains (Pamirs) rose beautifully into the sky. Village women, mostly Tajik, walked around town in beautifully colored clothing and the men were dressed like shipyard workers from the 1930’s U.S. It was an amazing scene that was unlike any other parts of China I had ever seen – probably because other than the highway leading there and the electricity that came with it, it was entirely not Chinese.

This morning, after a bout of food poisoning which rendered us useless and hostel-bound yesterday, we decided to check out the famous Kashgar Sunday Market. According to our hostel owner/Kashgar guru the Sunday Market swells the city’s population by 50,000 people once a week. This morning, however, was a different story because of a freakishly random and intense rain storm which flooded part of the city and overturned potted plants and rattled the fragile wooden shutters.

We took the number 8 bus from the Old Town Mosque to the last stop on the line, which was 200m from the market…. across a giant puddle the size of one of the Great Lakes. After skirting the giant flooded road (effectively covering my black pants in yellowish-brown mud and clay) we found the Sunday market partially deserted. Apparently the rain and flooding was enough to scare away many an eager merchant.

The folks who did turn up were mostly selling livestock. We found a certain breed of sheep quite foreign to us, and a bit bizarre. The sheep had human-looking butts, no joke. They were pink, plump, and hanging off of the body of the sheep where a tail should be, almost like baboon butts. Buyers were inspecting the sheep’s teeth, utters, and then lifting and groping the plumpness of the sheep’s hind quarters, which were substantial.

Walking past the bizarre-butt sheep I nearly fell when my foot slipped on something atop the mud and water. I looked down and gasped to discover I had stepped on a goat’s ear that was attached to a goat’s head, but that is where the attachments ended- there was simply a pile of goat heads on the ground and I had managed, somehow, to step on it.

After jumping goat-ear-foot first into a puddle to rinse my shoes of the goat’s blood I turned to find Mike peering through a gateway into a giant field of mud and poo that was sectioned off into stalls where, on one side people were selling baked goods and spices and on the other selling big-butt sheep, goats and cattle. Strangely enough, amid the swine flu, there was an entire truck loaded down with large, pink pigs. Swine flu paranoia is at its height in Kashgar, with one French resident of our hostel having been forcefully quarantined at the local hospital for having a fever.

After slipping on severed head and watching people grope sheep butt we

decided it was time to eat. Still a bit quasy from the food poisoning (and raw meat and heads lying about) we decided to head to the only western place in town, the Fubar Cafe. We arrived and instantly felt like we were back in the states, a pool table was the center piece of this establishment, with a wall of board games, a bar and several menus that made my mouth water. We pulled out the risk game where we proceeded to play 5 full games (we were there about five full hours as well, as a result) while eating pizza and hamburgers and drinking captain cokes. When you are away from your homeland’s food and feeling ill, there is nothing quite as satisfying as something recognizable.

We spent the rest of the evening and well into the night walking around Old Town bazaars and getting lost (intentionally) in the old back alleys. The Old Town section of Kashgar is fading quickly, with some recent reports indicating that a full 2/3rds of the area has been leveled in the last two weeks. There is destruction all around us and I honestly think this place will be gone within the next two years, if not sooner. It is one of the nicest and most lively neighborhoods I’ve ever seen, and that makes this a real shame.

In central Old Town there rests an ancient mosque (build in 1442) that has been repaired countless times and currently remains one of the largest active mosques in China. We decided to take a peek at this ancient relic of religion.

After walking around a bit in the late afternoon on our way to the mosque we encountered a very lively group of men and women huddled around a man selling tea. The various herbs and spices were laid out in small silver bowls surrounding the man’s feet and he chanted about the health benefits of each herb as he poured small amounts of each into newspaper. He mixed the herbs and flowers and spices together and sold a bag the size of a softball for 5Rmb. We watched, amazed, for about ten minutes before I was convinced (though I understand no Uyghur) of the health benefits. We bought a bag at once before setting off to the mosque.

The mosque itself is open to everyone, though there was not a single other woman inside. All foreigners have to pay 20Rmb to see inside, so we dished out some coin before we were allowed past the first set of guards. I was intimidated by the openness inside the mosque walls. The interior was a large garden with several praying rooms, all facing East. We walked to the most eastern wall where there was a rug from 1570 hanging on the wall and a small throne with a Koran and clocks that showed the time on every continent (for call to prayer). There were other items as well, but I’m not sure what they were for. It was five to five in the afternoon when a man with a heavy beard and dark eyes motioned to us and ushered us into the garden where a mass of people had gathered. Everyone looked at my uncovered head (I had forgotten my scarf) and at my legs, which were in pants and not the required skirt that is customary in Kashgarian women. I felt embarrassed, but I’m not sure why now that I look back. Several very old men approached me and looked at my eyes, hair and legs before walking past and talking quietly with their companions. I was too shy to take any pictures of a place of worship so Mike had been walking around with the camera. It was something I’ve always wanted to see and experience, but if you plan on doing likewise don’t forget your head wrap or else be prepared for stares!

karakul

Lake Karakul, situated along the breathtaking Tian Shan Tajik-China border, is one of the most stunning and awe-inspiring spots on the whole of the planet. Standing in absolute silence atop a hill looking over Lake Karakul one is struck by how startling silence can be in the face of such massive and absolute mountain peaks, a turquoise lake surrounded by sand dunes and not a soul or creature in sight.

But getting to the lake required a near torturous traverse of the mighty mountain range. After finally falling asleep the night before at 3am, we awoke at 8am to meet our guide. Our guide was a Uyghur man who spoke fluent Mandarin; he smoked like a chimney, smells of bai jiu (liquor) and when he opened his mouth at least a few curses stumbled out before any nouns or verbs. We had heard that there was a driver with a 4X4 who had two people going to Lake Karakul and if we jumped on board we’d get a discount. We agreed the night before to 300RMB for the entire two day trip. The guide grabbed our bags and told us to load up. When we reached the Jeep, we found a Chinese couple already situated inside. Climbing in, we introduced ourselves and the lady responded with, “what do Americans think of Tibet?” Not wanting to get into a diatribe that early in the morning, I politely responded that most Americans, ourselves included, had not been there so we could not accurately form an opinion until after we had. She wrinkled her nose and launched into the most long-winded Tibet-bashing session I’ve ever listened to. She explained that the warm-hearted Chinese kindly donated their tax money so the Tibetans did not have to have jobs, they just laid in the sun all day and practiced their selfish (because you personally strive for Nirvana) religion. She went on and on about how lazy Tibetans are and then, in a shocking turn of events, she said that if the Dali Lama were to come back to China, “the Tibetans would be as if Negros.” I thought I misheard, so I asked her to repeat that last part and she said, “you know, like in America, the Negro.” The man in the back seat turned red and said, “I think she means ‘slave’.” So, I told her I would visit and make my own opinions about the region and then turned to stare, shocked, at Mike.

The man in the back seat, a pull-down jumper seat, was named Jason, a Chinese former cell phone company CEO. He was decked out in survival gear from head to two, all of which was brand new (his scarf still had the price tag). He was very friendly and spoke fluently in English and Mandarin.

Thus situated, we set off towards the Lake. The guide, in a fit of curses and Uyghur, screeched off the road after having stopped twice within the first hour to buy food, and ran into a field, disappearing into the bush. A few moment later he sprinted out of the grass and we screeched, going 60, into open traffic. He laughed and opened his pockets and passed out tiny green fruits that proved to be sour, tart and spicy all at once.

After several hours of bumping along we pulled off the road to the Kyrgyz Glacier Retreat, where, for 50RMB, we were obliged to hike a mile up the side of a hill to view a dying glacier. The glacier was pitch black, having accumulated dirt and rocks as it pushed its way down the mountain.

Back in the car hours later we continued down the winding, bolder-covered road until we came to a massive valley surrounded by snow-topped peaks. A single stream cut through the valley, attracting sheep, goats, camels and wild horses. We stopped to stare in awe for several moments before the driver began cursing and urging us good-naturedly on our way.

By 5:00pm we rounded a curve in the road and Lake Karakul came into view. Pulling off the road we stopped at a small Kyrgyz yurt camp where one family owned several yurts which they rented to passers-by. We paid 50RMB a night, which included dinner and breakfast. The wife was a friendly-eyed woman of 40 who looked 60. She was never still for a moment as she busied herself with cooking, knitting, cleaning or tending to th yaks, children, dogs, guests and her husband. The husband, also appearing to be in his 60s, was hospitable and friendly, and immediately showed us his small black and white TV – obviously something he was very proud of. He also pointed at the wooden ceiling to show us he had recently acquired electricity. His daughter, around 9 years old, keenly watched my every move. When I sat cross-legged on the rugged floor she copied my posture, when I drank tea holding the cup with two hands, she followed suit. Their two sons, about 4 and 2, were outside the yurt playing with two puppies. Meanwhile, the husband’s father was walking aimlessly around the lake, stopping frequently to watch a hawk or pet a camel – he was well into his 90s, if not older.

Wife made us a nice dinner or plov (rice, yak and apricots) with yak milk tea and nan (bread). We eat heartily, having not eaten since the morning. Wife then laid five sets of blankets on the floor for us and indicated that it was now time for sleep. We all crawled into our makeshift piles of blankets and, after listening to a donkey braw for sevel hours, fell calmly and serenly to sleep listening to the waves of Lake Karakul.

Old Town Doorway

We spent the day today walking around the Old Town districts of Kashgar. Around the mosque, one of the largest in China, were rows of marketers selling a variety of local hand-made wares. Across the street we entered the bazaar and were in awe as all Chinese aspects of the city disappeared and stalls of herbs, fruits, nuts, and spices covered the streets ahead. It was almost as though we were on the silk road again, which Marco Polo and Aurel Stein spoke of in such great detail. We walked for hours in what is most easily described as a photographers dream. Children ran up to us in the streets and alleys asking us to take their picture and then show it to them.

Around 7:00 this evening we experienced a large sand storm that engulfed all of Kashgar. People were running around the streets, shop owners closed their stores, and I got a fist full of sand in my eyes. There is some video of this, but we are having some issues with the Internet capabilities. There are still some really strong winds and I just heard the sound of several pieces of pottery breaking outside as a gust of wind blew them off their perch. If it is this bad in the city right now, I can not imagine what it is like in the Taklamakan.

Tomorrow we are taking a bus down / up the Karakorum Highway, which goes along the the border of several of the “Stans” and we will spend the night at Lake Karakul in a ger or yurt. The Karakorum has come highly recommended to us by our friends as well as a few fellow travelers we have met along the way. It will be a great photo opportunity as the highway will take us well over 3000 meters into the mountains. The last leg of this two day journey will take us to the base of the border with Pakistan. Apparently, we can stand next to a disgruntled member of the Chinese border security with one foot in Pakistan.

Mr. Friendly in Alley

As our night train rolled in from Urumqi today (24 hour sleeper train), we came upon a very Chinese station platform. Although I had not awoken to the rolling sand dunes of the Great Taklamakan that I had dreamed of, there was an ocean of a desert that spread as far as the eye could see. We found a driver to take us into town and found a nice hostel in Old Town near the local Mosque.

Xinjiang province was predominantly Uighur until the last 5-10 years as Han Chinese were integrated into the region. The Uighur are a combination of Central Asian Kazak, Tajik, Uzbek, and Mongolian – they are also a Islamic culture. The 2500 + kilometers of desert preceding, slowly faded into a lush desert oasis tucked away in between the Taklamakan Desert and the Himalayas.

We walked around the surrounding alleys leading to the centralized Mosque for hours taking several great pictures.  The 500 year old city wall, which used to surround Kashgar is literally a 3 minute walk from where we are.  It is amazing that anyone could send an army out here to conquer anything, but Russia and China have throughout the past.  In the next few days we will take a camel tour into the Taklamakan Desert and take a bus up the Karakorum Highway.

If you are interested in staying here:

233 Wusitangboyi Road – it is very difficult to find, but most taxi drivers know the street and you just have to find the random unnamed alley ways to this destination.  It is near the Edgar Mosque and West Renmin Road and has two large red doors with a very small “Youth Hostel” sign on the doorway.  I will update later with more information if I can.

Kashgar

We arrived in Urumqi, Xinjiang,at exactly 4:10pm today (right on time) after a 48 hour train ride across China. From here we have purchased tickets to Kashgar for tomorrow at noon, and will arrive in the city around noon the next day (24 hour train through the Taklamakan Desert). From there we have no plan, but need to be in Kazakhstan between the 17th – 20th. We hope to spend quite a bit of the next 15 days in and around Kashgar where Mike hopes to get the famous dry-shave that Tim to heartily recommended.

The train ride was an amazing experience, and one of the best train rides we’ve ever taken. A Uyghur man and his wife were in the bunk below us and the man proceeded to play his violin into the evening as a small community of Uyghurs gathered in our car to sing along, suggest songs, and listen. The man, upon hearing we were American, played some Western songs for us, including Wagner and Gershwin.  We were fortunate to be in such a great car for such a long trip. On previous journeys we have had crying babies or spitting businessmen on their cell phones well into the night. A small boy was on the train with us and he did not cry the entire trip (as I would have done at age 2). Instead, he ran around the car making friends with everyone and sitting on every lap in the car. At one point he defecatedin the only sink in our car, but his mother lovingly fixed the problem with her only towel….which she then washed in the sink and used to bathe the child. At any rate, he was a happy boy and he cheered up the long trip.

Urumqi is as we remember it – a cosmopolitan city bustling with movement. It seems everyone here has luggage and is on the move. We have only this evening to spend in the city, so will head back to the Uyghur night market. Having spent ten days in this city in 2006 I am not upset that we cannot spend longer now, but it is a lovely place.

Of minor inconvenience, my original backpack broke on day one of the trip. I replaced the bag in Shanghai with another that broke this afternoon. The damage is not total, and because I am my father’s daughter I had enough rope and caribineers to fix the problem.

We have my guitar along on the trip, and I hope to improve quite a bit as we travel. Tonight we’re re-stringing the guitar with nylon strings so I can really learn the Spanish guitar songs I love so much. Watch out Gypsy Kings!

Step one:  Leave with too much stuff in your bags and pull every muscle in your back and neck.

Step two: Backpack to post office to mail a laptop and other stuff that is too heavy. Why did Mike pack a history textbook?

police

Step three:  Hail a cab during rush hour on the Chinese May 1st holiday.

Step four: Share a bottle of Jamison with friends.

Step five:  Forget to eat dinner while consuming Jamison.

Step six: Try to hail a cab again during rush hour and then bribe the driver to drive on the sidewalk to get us to the train station.

Step seven: After bribe attempt, realize that your train leaves at 6:25 not 6:45.

Step eight: Arrive at train station at 7:00 and sit on bag with beer until police blow whistles in your face for loitering.

Step nine:  Laugh when girlfriend gets in whistle blowing contest with the police using your emergency whistle.

Step ten: Convert to Buddhism after they exchange tickets for the train for the following day for free.

Step eleven:  Check into hostel in the city in which you have lived for the last year and a half.

Step twelve:  Get lost in that same city looking for friends who are still drinking from the Jamison incident, and find them at local all-you-can-drink brewery to discuss the tenants of libertarianism and wind energy.

Step thirteen:  End up at a classy bar in travel pants that zip off in three different places to have someone tell you that you really need to get your life together…after noticing aforementioned zip-off pants.

Step fourteen:  “I’m sure something else will happen so lets leave this one open.”

Travel tip:  You can exchange your train tickets!  I never knew you could do this.  You definitely could not do this in the states, at least for free.  Perhaps we just looked that pathetic.  Go to window 13 at the shanghai ticket office to exchange your tickets.

We leave China today. Here is a list of the top ten things we’ll really miss about China:

• Drinking in Public. While this may seem like a silly thing to miss, in reality being able to drink outdoors is a fun experience. Sitting in the park with a beer is much nicer than sitting there with a Frisbee. We also think the cops in the USA should focus on bigger problems. Naturally, we’re still against drinking and driving, but drinking and walking– we think most people can handle that.
• Cheap food. Surprisingly, food in Shanghai is extremely expensive and diverse. You can find fine dining here to rival New York, but the prices are comparable. What we’ll miss is the street food. For 2RMB you can get a whole stick of lamb meat. At 2am, there is nothing better than lamb kebab.
  

  Window Washers

• Diversity. In the year we lived in Shanghai we were friends with Americans, Brits, Frenchmen, Russians, Ecuadorians, Finnish, Germans, Turkish, Swiss, Chinese, folks from Aruba and more. In a year of living in Saint Paul, MN, we were friends with only Americans. We will really miss the diversity here and it was great fun knowing people from all over the world.
• Travel. Moving around within China is easy. The train system is set up to move millions, and is clean and efficient. There are endless possibilities for travel here and whenever we had time we jumped on a train or boat out of the city with endless destination options. Even with only a free weekend, there were unexplored water towns near Shanghai for a quick escape.
• Work. While the rest of the world is feeling the crunch of the financial crisis the expats in China are doing alright. While I was laid off from my bank job, there were other opportunities for me in China. Meanwhile, I was unemployed in the USA with literally no options or prospects. I will miss the ease associated with job hunting in China.
• Transportation. In Shanghai, getting around was a cinch. The elaborate subway network could get you nearly anywhere in the city for 4RMB. Meanwhile, a plethora of buses honked around on the main streets which you could jump on for 2RMB each way. If all else fails there are cabs dotting the entire city for 11RMB to start and going up to about 30RMB for a trip across the entire town in rush hour traffic. Much easier than owning a car.
• Bartering. While this annoys many expats, I loved bartering. I like setting the price of an item in my mind and then thinking, “I’ll pay anything up to this number for this item.” Thinking like that helped me to prioritize what I needed versus what I wanted. I even enjoy the exchanges between the seller and the buyer with each playing their part as if rehearsed.
• Our Guards. We lived in two apartments in Shanghai and both had an amazing group of guards who protected
  

  Pudong, Shanghai

  the building entrance and doorways. In our first apartment we brought the guards gifts on Chinese holidays. They were always happy to see us and fun to be around. In our second apartment we dropped off beer one evening for them and they never stopped smiling and waving at us after.

• Our Ayi. An Ayi is a cleaning lady. Ours was named Xiao Xu, from Anhui province. She was a very sweet lady who was recommended to us from friends. She was the most patient person I have ever met and she listened to me fumble through my Chinese trying to talk to her and then patiently, and slowly, responded. How she didn’t slap me in the face with the wet mop after the thousandth time I mispronounced something is beyond me.
• Expat lifestyle. This is definitely a great lifestyle. We had a great little apartment in a great area surrounded by easy transportation, cheap and yummy local food, a maze of pubs, endless activities and sights and a modernizing and growing city to watch. Meanwhile, we made decent money and had some amazing friends.

So, as we chug away on our train today, it will be a bitter sweet good-bye as we remember the things we’ll miss, but look forward to the excitement of the road ahead.

Kazakh visa example

We applied for Kazakh transit visas and found the process amazingly easy (perhaps because we are comparing it to the process of getting an Uzbek visa from Shanghai). Last Friday we dropped off our applications feeling a bit worried. We marked “transit” throughout the forms instead of “place of residence in Kazakhstan” or “transit area.” However, despite being very vague we arrived at the Kazakh consulate in Shanghai today and picked up our transit visas without issue. For a three day transit visa we paid 125RMB each (about 20 bucks).

While they have no expedite service (and it takes one full week to get a visa) they did us a favor and got ours back to us on Wednesday, having dropped it off the previous Friday. They were very friendly and helpful.

The hours of operation for the Kazakh consulate in Shanghai are a bit strange. They only accept applications between 9:30am – 12:30pm on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. They will only issue your visas (for pick up) between 3:30 – 5:00pm on those same days. Come early as there is always about an hour wait. A guard will escort you to a small waiting area and then usher you, one at a time, into the main consulate room. Expect to spend about two hours each visit so bring a book.

As per most visa applications, you’ll need passport photos. Have these cut and ready to go as they were a bit anal about the sloppy cut job we did on our pictures and spent quite a bit of time ‘properlly’ trimming the pictures and gluing them lovingly to the application. In addition, bring copies of your passport – simple black and white is fine- and the names of the port of entry and exit for a transit visa (for normal vaisa, have the name of a hotel in a major city for the application).

The address for the Kazakh consulate in Shanghai is: Room 1005, 1006 Orient International Plaza 85 Loushanguan Road Shanghai 200336, P.R.C. You can call +86 (21) 6275 -3878 or  email: office@kzconsulshanghai.org, or visit their website: http://www.kazembchina.org

Our apartment

As we pack up our apartment I’m reminded of when we first moved to China and began looking for a place to live. The process of apartment hunting in China is vastly different than in the States. Here, you find a local agent in the area you want to live and go to their office. You describe what you want in an apartment to the tiniest detail. While you wait (“would you like more tea, sir?”) they search online listings and their own reserve of available housing. After a half hour or so of searching and phone calls the realtor puts on his or her jacket and you march of, always on foot, to view the apartment. You arrive at the apartment and it is in shambles. In the US, realtors ensure the house is looking its very best before they show it. In China, you must see potential instead of beauty. One apartment we saw was so filthy we left footprints in the grime and dust as we perused the layout. Another apartment we viewed was covered in moldy, dirty dishes and overturned furniture. It was as if the residents quickly packed a few belongings and ran out in a hurry.

We saw about ten apartments before we found one we liked. We were shown several apartments that did not meet our criteria because the realtor gets paid by how many times he can show a place. Once you express interest the landlord and the realtor begin to scream at each other over price, additional fixtures, cleaning, etc. After an initial bartering phase the realtor reports that the lowest the landlord will go is, for example, 5,000RMB. You act offended and counter, naturally, with 4,000RMB. The landlord pretends not to hear you. Once the realtor turns and gives the counter-offer to the landlord he or she erupts in a stream of rationalizations for the 5,000RMB price. Eventually (after much bartering) the price is settled around 4,300RMB with a few extras like a cleaning crew to sweep through and a replacement chair for the office.

Now comes the tricky part. Money needs to be exchanged on the spot or else the landlord will not hold the apartment. Usually one month rent is put on the table. The realtor takes the money to appease both parties. The whole process takes less than half an hour. A move in date is set and when the happy day arrives the realtor emerges with contracts, candies, your deposit and a big smile – the realtor’s fee is one month’s rent split between the landlord and the renter.

There are, of course, apartment postings on craigslist and other expat sites. But usually these are more expensive and it is a bit harder to find someone who will sign on the spot. We recommend playing along with local custom and finding a local realtor. If a realtor does not find you an apartment you like you do not owe them anything. They only get paid if they please you, and the landlords whose apartments they show. The downside is that the realtor has no incentive to help you barter down the price, as he is merely helping to lower his commission.

For a two bedroom in Shanghai on a subway line we paid 4,300RMB a month. The

place was western in style with a tub, fully-stocked kitchen, wrap around sofa and big screen and an office. Our last apartment in China was tiny, with a fold our bed and a kitchen that stretched into our laps in the living room at a price of 3,000RMB a month. Our first apartment in Beijing had no toilet and a sink that spewed brown liquid and tiny insects but cost only 1,200RMB a month. So, you can find something at every price range here.

Hua Shan Hospital

There are several mixed reviews about Chinese hospitals and myths about “socialized medicine,” but I deemed it necessary to mention a few things about our Chinese hospital experiences.  Over the course of the few years we have lived here, one in Beijing and over a year in Shanghai, we have each been to the hospital a few times.  In China, you don’t go to your family practitioner unless you have a really good expat medical package.  Let’s face it, that pretty much rules 95% of all expats out because of the keywords good expat medical package.

In Beijing our experience at Ren Min Yi Yuan (People’s Hospital) was acceptable.  There are many reviews about how dirty the hospitals are and that they would never go back.  However, if you are on a fixed budget the expat clinics cost upwards of $150 USD just to see a physician.  This does not include any treatment  or medicine.  Moreover, you will have to return for a checkup and to receive any results from testing – which will easily cost you at least another $100USD (about 700 RMB).

These are Chinese hospitals.  Expect there to be no soap in the bathrooms, IV racks next to the toilets, and people smoking in the hallways.  Ren Min Hospital was pretty dirty and there were workers carrying cement bags through the hallways, in which there were people on cots with IVs in their arms.  However if you can learn to look past these aspects, which are are part of living in China, you may notice the positives.  Below is a bullet list of my most recent experience and costs at Hua Shan Hospital in Shanghai.

Without going into too much detail about the idiotic events that led to this hospital visit, lets just say – I hurt my foot bad enough to warrant a trip to see if it was broken.  Being in no mood to start off our trek through Central Asia with a broken foot, we headed off for Hua Shan Hospital.  In a previous visit we had learned that one of the upper floors was host to a foreign clinic and we were immediately directed there.  The costs were astronomical and x-rays would not be available for several days – they would call you at home and you would come back.  For a cheaper and more efficient experience proceed immediately to what I believe was the “门诊”，men zhen or “outpatient clinic,” and talk to the attendants there.  The most difficult aspect of this approach is if you do not speak any Chinese, however basic Chinese will be enough to communicate what hurts, where, and for how long.  Moreover, you will find that most of the doctors actually speak English quite well.

• Outpatient Clinic Registration – 25 RMB
• Proceed to Station 1 (Patient- Doctor Consultation) – Here you meet with the doctor and explain what happened and he / she will prescribe a certain test and direct you to the next station.  In this case an X-ray was in order.
• Payment Counter – 70 RMB – First you need to pay for your X-ray in advance
• 4th Floor X-Ray Lab – Go have your treatment or test (X-ray)
• Doctor Examination – Wait about 20 minutes for your X-ray to fully develop and then you show it to the original doctor you saw in station 1.
• Prescription Payment – 15 RMB – Luckily, it was not a break and he simply prescribed some pain medication.
• Hospital Pharmacy – Go to the 2nd floor and pickup your prescription from the” 门诊” ‘men zhen’ counter upstairs.  This is a special window at which there should be no line of people where you can pick up your prescription at walk away.

Every time I go to Chinese hospitals I am amazed at the efficiency and speed at which everything is completed.  There was practically no wait and we were out of there in a little over an hour.

Total price:  110 RMB – Which is only $16.10 for an outpatient doctor’s consultation, X-ray, analysis, and pain killer prescription.  The alternative is to go to the foreign clinic upstairs and pay 700 RMB and another 315 RMB for an X-ray.  This is without insurance of course and the foreign clinic has nice dry walled interiors, comfortable chairs, and English fluent doctors.  I personally prefer the 1 hour $16 USD method over the $148.63 USD method that includes a day or two wait sometimes for results.  Once again, if you can look past the fact that the building and cleanliness standards may not be the same, the efficiency, speed, and cost make up for these other irrelevant short-comings in my mind.  The medical equipment used is top of the line and has usually purchased overseas.

If you need to go to any one of these hospitals the addresses are:

Beijing:  Ren Min Yiyuan (Part of Peking University) – 北京大学人民医院 – 北京市西城区西直门南大街11号 – Beijing Shi Xi Cheng Qu, Xi Zhi Men, Nan Da Jie, No. 11

Shanghai – Hua Shan Yiyuan – 乌鲁木齐中路12号 近长乐路 – No.12, Wulumuqi Zhong Lu, Huaihai Zhong Lu, near Changle Lu

We ventured to every travel gear store in Shanghai. For those seeking camping, climbing, trekking or other outdoor wear and gear we fully recommend Decathlon. This store has literally everything an outdoor enthusiast could want and expect to find in Shanghai. Since we’ve been to every outdoor store in the city we can safely say this is the cheapest, with the best quality goods, the widest selection (by far) and the friendliest staff. Other outdoor stores in Shanghai have been found lacking. They are usually one-room shops with overpriced fake North Face packs and a few flashlights. Check out Decathlon if you’re in town. We ended up spending around $100USD there and walked away with several quick-dry clothing sets, compression bags, quick-dry towels and other necessities for a backpacker on the road. We’re heading back this weekend to buy a two-man tent (400RMB) and two sleeping bags. With modern technology, these combined could fit into a small backpack and be assembled in less than 5 minutes.

Our packing list (for each person):

• 2 pairs quick-dry khakis
  

  Compresion bag

• 1 pair sweatpants/work-out clothes
• 4 shirts (all quick-dry, anti-wrinkle, one dressier)
• 1 pair shower shoes/ sandals
• 1 paid hiking shoes/boots
• 1 fleece
• 1 windbreaker
• 1 swimsuit
• Undergarments and hiking socks
• Small medical kit, including first aid and medicine for various on-road ailments
• Books and writing materials
• I-pods
• Laptop
• Plastic bags (for dirty clothes, separating wet things, etc)
• 1 two-man tent
• 2 sleeping bags

We packed everything in one large backpack using one compression bag each (black back shown above in left of image). The compression bags collapse everything to manageable size. In one small backpack we will carry the medicine and laptop in a heat controlled bag (as we’re going into the desert and don’t want a giant paper weight made out of the laptop if it gets too hot).  This way we’ll be able to travel with one small bag and one large backpacking ruscksack in case one of us gets injured or is sore from hiking, etc. We will add the sleeping bags and tent as well as the additional small bag and my camera and we’ll be off on our trip in less than a week!

Vietnam

We conducted an online poll to see where our readers thought we should travel next. 37% of our voters thought we should go to Vietnam. We’re taking their advise and we’ll be heading to Vietnam within the next six months after our Central Asia trip. At 32%, our readers put Cambodia as their second choice for a ‘living vicariously’ travel destination. We’re heading there after Vietnam and will be writing and posting images from both countries within the year. In third place, our readers voted for Japan with 26%. Tsk, tsk inattentive readers, I’ve already been! You can read about the trip and see the pictures from Okinawa. 5% of our readers voted for Laos, which we will travel to while touring South East Asia. Surprisingly, 0% of our readers voted for Korea. While we’d like to visit at some point we are taking our readers silence as a sign, and will visit Korea some other time.

Poll results

Vietnam 37%

Cambodia – 32%

Japan – 26%

Laos – 5%

Korea – 0%

We’ve added new polls to our site and several surveys. Please take a moment to participate and help us A) refine our site, and; B) learn more about our readers, and; C) be more interactive in the travel/dreaming community. We have polls and surveys throughout the site so please click around and vote on a few!

Is this what is looks like? I wouldn't know.

This is apparently what a visa to Uzbekistan looks like, but I wouldn’t know.  It has officially been 3 weeks since we began our endeavor to get an Uzbek visa.  Although we are two Americans trying to get visas into Uzbekistan in China, we have come across some abnormal difficulties.  We have been informed by several people that, of all Central Asian visas, Uzbekistan would be the most difficult to obtain.

Three weeks ago, we discovered the location of the Uzbekistan consulate in Shanghai – or so we thought.  When Lauren arrived, she discovered that it was boarded up and that the office had not been there for over two years.  So not only were all of the government websites wrong, they had not been updated for two years.  The following week, as we were preparing to go to Beijing to go the the actually embassy to get the visas, we found some new information.  After calling over 7 different phone numbers, a man with a very think Uzbekistan accent answered the phone.  I got the address from him and we jumped in a cab down to the same Chinese government building you go to get your red work permit.

We met with man in the visa office, an extension of his office attached to a windowed door with a slot to place paperwork through.  He told us it would be difficult getting visas as the relationship between the United States and Uzbekistan has diminished slightly over the last few years.  This, I assume, has been because of the United States stance against Uzbekistan’s’ human rights following the Andijan Massacre in 2005.  We were then informed that we qualified to be lucky participants in the “new and reformed” visa procedures involving Internet approval before we bring in our visa applications.  We went home immediately and then applied through the Uzbekistan Ministry of Foreign Affairs website, which gave us authorization numbers.  I called the visa official again telling him we had been approved with authorization numbers and all, but he assured me that he would be notified by the ministry and would contact us once he could issue us the visas.

Over the course of the week, I called him practically everyday until on Friday, we were told to come back in and reapply the old way.  Having wasted two weeks, on behalf of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, we were offered a formal apology and submitted our applications and copies of our passports.  That was now also a week ago.  We will be persistent and continue to contact him tomorrow, but we have to get them next week so we can apply for transit visas through Kazakhstan.  We will be getting visas for Turkmenistan once we arrive in Tashkent.  More to come on the Central Asia visa saga and we will provide updates as they occur.  If you are interested in going to Central Asia, we strongly encourage you to start your application process at least a month and 1/2 in advance, if not 2 whole months.  We are optimistic that the other visa will be easier over the next week or so.

As every good adventurer knows, a good companion makes all the difference. At AbandonTheCube we revere those who have gone before us and applaud fellow cube abandoners. Below are a few other free-spirited blogs you might enjoy where the traveler has chosen to cycle away from modernity and into serenity.

Adventure biking

Bike travel:

For the avid travel biker, this site offers around-the-world adventure complete with tips for biking the road less traveled. The TravellingTwo site is dedicated to providing an online guide from people who have actually cycled through the area. Of special interest to us is their Central Asia page which details visa information. While some of that data has changed (for instance, all former soviet republics now charge the flat $130 rate for a multi-entry visa) it has other highly relevant information and well worth a read!

Similarly, two of our friends cycled from Lhasa to Nepal (by no means a minor feat) having encountered a plethora of adventures of their own, including one of the most hilarious and horrible international visa stories we’ve ever heard. We’ve learned from their experiences and are now rightly paranoid about Lhasa visas and permits.

Our trip:

Central Asia

We leave in less than two weeks on our pan-Asian train tour. While we are jealous of those who are self propelled, we’re more of the “read a book along the way” traveling type. We’ll be taking trains and buses from Shanghai to Ashgabat, where we will stay for several days. After a quick stop off at the gates of hell we will continue our voyage from Ashgabat north to Russia and hop the trans-Siberian through Mongolia and down through China and into South Asia to tour Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, and more. This is just the beginning.

example

In September I was given a new camera for my birthday, the Canon Rebel XS (or 1000D). Its been an amazing camera and has far exceeded my expectations. I feel like the bionic man with how often I have this camera attached to my person, and I feel incomplete when I am without it (but, I have not yet taken to sleeping with it as a security blanket).

Changes in quality
With this new camera I can see a drastic improvement in my photography . Its elevated my ability to contort and control what I see through the viewfinder into something I’d want to see enlarged and hanging on my living room wall.

Features
With the Canon 1000D I took what used to be a minor hobby and have made it into a technical art form (I’m nor bragging, I’m just saying the camera is that good!) I have control over what is in focus. I have control over distances and blur. I have the ability to turn any mundane object into art with this camera by playing with the settings and features.

Confidence builder
I’m also more confident with this camera. Whereas before with a point and shoot I was shy to approach people to snap a meaningful image. Now, with a larger and more authoritative camera I feel like an artist and not just someone breaking privacy laws.

Check out our photo album, you can see a clear line in quality and creativity between my old point-and-shoot camera and the 1000D.

Top Four Places We May Consider Living

As the journey to Ashgabat approaches, careful planning is necessary.  We also need to plan for what we will do when we get return, and where we would like to go.  We will travel through some of our favorite places in China and will certainly discover more as we go.  With jobs scarce, careful consideration needs to be given to choose the next destination.  Also, just for fun I have listed the top 5 places I would consider moving to and living for the next year or two.

XinJiang

Easily a favorite of mine, the Taklamakan Desert is fabled for expeditions and discoveries; from Maro Polo to Sven Hedin and Aurel Stein, lost cities and ancient ruins are splattered across the desert.  Arguably the harshest desert in the world, surrounded on the west by the Himalayas and the Gobi Desert to the far East, crossing the Taklamakan Desert of XinJiang Provence, China has been a long lasting goal in my mind.  With some of the friendliest people I have ever encountered, Turpan, Urumqi, the capital, and Kashgar – the famous Silk Road trading outpost – would be great places to spend a portion of one’s life.

Uzbekistan

Easily a road less traveled for most westerners, Uzbekistan, a former Soviet Republic, is one of the most remote “Stans.”  With a wide variety of languages, cultures and ethnic groups, Uzbekistan would be a great place to discover something new.  Tashkent, the capital, would be a good place to start and find a job.  The famous shrinking Aral Sea is rapidly decreasing in size due to drastic misuses of water from the sea and Soviet cotton production.  Boats can be seen sitting in a sand dune where the harbor used to be 50 years ago.  Having a 50% Muslim population would also add to the illustrious and interesting nature of this possibly misunderstood and understudied country.

Thailand

Considered the vacation hot spot for Australians and many Europeans, much like the Caribbean is for North Americans, Thailand is a tropical paradise.  With several islands, forests, beaches and sunshine, Thailand would be a significant change from the smoggy air of Shanghai, China.  Although Thailand is currently suffering some political upheaval over their democratically unelected prime minister, it is still a safe and desirable place to live.  Famous for Muay Thai boxing, several areas in Thailand host Muay Thai training camps to give foreigners the change to learn this incredibly powerful art.  For $3500 USD, one can live and learn Muay Thai for one month.  Many foreign companies have set up branches or offices in Thailand because of labor costs and simply for the desire to live on the ocean.

Ecuador

Right smack dab on the equator, another warm beautiful country, perhaps not as frequented by travelers as Thailand, Ecuador bosts great culture and history on the otherside of the world.  With thousands of years of Incan hisotry, World National Heritage sites like the Galápagos Islands, and massive diversity in climate because of the different elevations, Ecuador would be a great place to live – and learn Spanish.  Also having friends from Ecuador, makes is a very desirable place to consider.  Teaching Enlgish while learning Spanish would be a phenominal way to ride out the recession or just live regardless.

An Invitation to My Elevator Speech

Always looking for a way to improve the site, Abandon the Cube Travel Journal will be participating in a 31 day free online “Blog Optimization” seminar.  The elevator speech is the first section of this seminar and as the organization of the posts & goals of the site have been blurry over the last few months, this will hopefully help ATC (Abandon the Cube) and its readers understand what exaclty can be found here on the site and what will be available over the next few months.

[clearing of  throat noise awkwardly heard] An internet reader and the Abandon the Cube author uncomfortably exchange glances as the elevator doors close.

“So……,” Says the Internet Reader.  “What exaclty are you trying to do here?”  [Annoying elevator music heard in background] The ATC author, taking a deep breath, says:

Have you ever sat at work and dreamed of  abandoning your cubical and traveling the world?  We are living that dream so come live vicariously as we perpetually abandon our cubes.  The Abandon the Cube Travel Journal tells the stories, experiences, histories, methods, and costs of the adventures of Lauren and Mike.  They are quitting their jobs, again, and traveling until they find the next place they would like to live.  Abandon the Cube will contain a brief history and summary  of each country they visit, as well as their travel recommendations, tips and guides to follow the same roads less traveled.

Please also see the newly updated About Us page – contains the same information.

In the future the seminar will not be mentioned, but hopefully over the next month, readers will begin to see significant improvement.  We would like to invite you to contribute to this as well by leaving comments or recommendations in the comment section below the post.  Please let us know if there is anything that we should add, which would make the site more beneficial you (our readers).

A quick plug as well – if you have a blog and are interested in participating in this free seminar to optimize your blog, please go to: www.problogger.net.

Samarkand

Having completed all the necessary paperwork, acquired mini photos of myself and located my passport I set off to the Uzbek consulate in Shanghai.

No one seemed to know where Huangpu Road was. After several attempts I finally located number 99 and went to the 15th floor, which is where the Embassy site said the consulate offices were. I found a glass door with neon green construction paper glued to the door and a tiny white sign in Chinese with a phone number. I called the number and asked where the consulate was. He replied with a question, “rent or buy?”

I went to a nearby office and asked how long the room with the green door had been empty. “Almost two years,” came the cringe-worthy reply. I called Mike, who looked online and located another phone number. No answer and then a dial tone. Bummer.

After returning from the boondocks to my Shanghai apartment I confirmed online that I had gone to the right address. I called the Uzbek Embassy in Beijing. No one spoke English and the Chinese intern who answered the phone hung up when I asked if it was the Uzbek Embassy. Frustrated, I asked a friend who is fluent if she could follow up and find any information. Meanwhile a friend of Mike’s who speaks Russian is looking online for more information.

Meanwhile, if I can’t find information on the consulate I’ll have to take the overnight train to Beijing to find the Uzbek Embassy and try to deal with acquiring the visa in person in Beijing.

Through the whole semi-frustrating ordeal I was reminded that this is simply how things are in Asia- impermanent. It is a great start to the trip!

-Posted by Lauren.

A few days ago our kitchen sink began to leak and we had quite the adventure as the landlord’s mother and several other randoms arrived to ‘fix’ the problem. So, when the back of the toilet at our Chinese rental apartment began to run we bean to panic. Obviously the float was broken. I poked around inside the back trying to remember what my grandfather had taught me about plumbing. The pieces are completely different here and the floating thing that stops the water is a non-existent part of the Chinese design.

I called the landlord and asked him to have a plumber come over, but not to send the whole crew of voyeurs this time. Naturally he responded that the whole army of curious bystanders would arrive between 8 and 9 the following morning.

At 7am I sat bolt upright in bed. Last time they came over the plumber flooded the floor near an outlet and nearly killed three people via electrocution. All night I had horrible dreams about people frying. I went into the bathroom, unplugged everything and went back to bed.

At 8:30 there was a knock at the door and two strangers and the landlord filed past me and into the kitchen. I redirected them to the bathroom and the three of them starred at the back of the toilet. Chinese usually use squat pots, so the site of the upright was a bit confusing for the plumber. I could empathize.

Half an hour later the three emerged, turned off the water to the apartment and left to buy a new part. I went into the bathroom. They had flooded the entire floor and mopped it up with a towel into the tub. At least I knew what to expect this time! Apparently flooding is part of the process.

I left the apartment after talking with the landlord who explained they would be back at 3pm. In a building with no water 6 hours is a long time. I went to breakfast with a friend, ran some errands and returned at 2pm to find the problem fixed. Part two was much better than the nearly lethal part one!

-Posted by Lauren.

On the last day of our four day trip to HuangShan we were exhausted! We climbed down the entire mountain in one fell swoop, the details of this trek are etched into the backs of my eyes. Having finally made it to the bottom and had a nice night’s rest in a real bed, we woke up refreshed in the morning and had a nice buffet breakfast at the Best Western where we had happened to find lodging.

Labeled a 5 star hotel, the Best Western at the base of HuangShan could have been a tent with a mattress and I would have called it five star worthy, but this place deserved the stars even for the non travel weary. With rolling gardens sprawled across the estate and a wayward rock bridge crossing the valley before out hotel window, we were delighted.

After checking out of the hotel we wandered to the nearby spa (affiliated with the hotel for branding) and signed right up for the all inclusive hot spring afternoon for 169RMB. We put on our suits, downed some red tea and emerged in an Eden-like paradise! We were led to a large natural hot spring where staff waited on our beck and call while we lounged in the natural water and let the jets relax our aching muscles.

After a nice soak in the natural water we were led to a smaller pool full of liquor. The water smelled of booze, but the staff informed us that it was good for healing blemishes and making clear skin.

From here we were led to a pool of 40 degree water with coffee grounds in it. Literally a giant coffee cup roasting humans along with beans. We dunked in momentarily, having heard it was good for hair shine.

After the coffee we submerged ourselves more calmly in a slightly cooler pool of milk water. This was said to whiten and soften the skin. Set under a cherry blossom tree, we found ourselves in the shade and isolated, it was calming and beautiful, and we were the only people in the whole spa aside from staff.

From the milk we were dunked in red wine heated to 32 degrees. This was a pleasant spot as well, where we could hear water trickling and smell the grapes in the water.

There were several natural pools of various temperatures that did not contain anything other than water, though one contained salt. After several of these we were led to a very shallow pool where we had to sign a waiver.

Stepping into the pool I shrieked as loudly as I’m able (quite ear-splitting, actually) and nearly walked on water until I was standing on level ground. The staff roared in laughter and we read the sign next to the pool. The shallow water contained hundreds of tiny fish who were to eat dead skin off your feet and legs. I watched while Mike submerged his legs and continued to watch as they vanished around a pool of tiny green and blue fish. I returned to a natural pool and read a book for a while as Mike submerged his entire body into the fish tank. Mini Parana are not my idea of spa treatment, but it was interesting to watch!

Finally, after several hours at the spa we left, hired a random Huangshan native to drive us in his car to the train station, and spent a sleepless night on the overnight train back to Shanghai.

-Posted by Lauren.

On Friday our sink began to leak, we cleaned up the mess and contacted our landlord. The landlord (who speaks amazing English and is hilariously named Peter Pan) was supposed to arrive Sunday evening. He declined at the last moment and changed the sink-fixing appointment to the next morning when his elderly mother would accompany the plumber to the house.

At 9:30 on the dot the grandma arrived with a small contingent of spectators and a plumber direct out of high school. She introduced me as “the foreigner! Look, she can speak!” to which her elderly comrades began to roar in laughter and sing in unison “ting by dong! ting bu dong!”

Meanwhile, the boy began by saying that it was only a small leak, and putting a bucket under it and then emptying the contents daily would suffice. Why had I woken him up so early for an un-urgent problem?

While I was talking with the plumber about our differing opinions of severity, the grandmother was going through the drawers in the bathroom, pulling out odd objects  (floss, whats this?) and commenting on things were disorganized. Her compatriots followed closely behind her as she inspected every item in every private drawer in the bathroom, laughing periodically.

After checking on the grandma after one particularly loud roaring laughter session (they had discovered Mike’s cologne and were spraying it on each other) I went to watch the kid fiddle around with the M.C Escher mess that was the piping under the sink. Having just read A Brief History of Time by Steven Hawking, Mike believed the arrangement under the sink was ‘infinitely illogical’ or the ‘singularity within a black hole where no light can be found.’ The kid filled both sinks with water and then watched them slowly drain. He squatted down and pulled out a wood saw and then proceeded to saw through the plastic piping at a rather odd juncture. Suddenly, water began to pour from the pipes (the sinks were, after all).

The grandma dropped my toothbrush and her accomplices put down mike’s razor and hair trimmer and together they ran into the kitchen, by the time they got there the room was flooded in a solid inch or more of dirty dish water. I sprinted to the circuit breaker and madly flipped all the switches. Our kitchen, being a black hole of logic, has wires, outlets and plugs along the floor.

By the time I got back into the kitchen they were all laughing and using our towles to mop up the water and then ring out the towels into the sink, which then drained on to the floor. I burts into laughter so uncontrolable I teared up at one point. After my laughing attach had subsided I brough in a bucket to ring the towles into. Together the grandma, her accomplace (with several of my toohpicks protruding from his pocket) and I began to ring out towels into the bucket together. The grandma, by now, had collected every towel in the apartment for the effort, and a large pile of colorful towels covered in rust, moldy food and sink water was leaning up against an outlet in the corner of the kitchen. Would we all have been electrocuted had the power been on? I found myself analyzing everyone’s shoes. Were they rubbery enough? How does that work exactly?

Eventually the kid sealed the pipe with an inordinate amount of caulking (and wads of damp toilet paper which the grandma’s accomplice had suggested), he then tied the weighted-down pipe to another weighted-down pipe to releave some of the stress. He walked out of the house in an embaressed huff as did Grandma’s sidekick when he realized he might have to help if he lingered. She was left to finish cleaning up the mess alone but smiling. I went in and helped her ring out towels and clean up under the sink.

Priority now: wash towels

Hilarity level: 7

-Posted by Lauren.

In the morning we set off again to find the complete opposite of the previous day’s hike. The paths were congested with people and there was screaming, yelling, pushing and more screaming. It was like being back on the Shanghai subways. We forged ahead and eventually broke into a relatively quiet space between two rather large groups about 100m to the front and rear of us. We hiked all morning after watching the sunrise and eventually came to Lotus Flower Peak, the highest point of the mountain range at over 2000m. After climbing stairs that were carved into a sheer rock cliff, with both hands and feet on the steps, we eventually summited the peak where we found an old old woman selling noodles. How she got up there is a mystery, as there are only the stairs. Throughout the hike we had been passed by several elderly folks who giggled as they marched past us while we huffed and puffed up the mountain.

Climbing

After summiting the highest point we followed the steps around to the back of the mountain and down to Celestial Capital peak, the second highest peak. Due to ice, the mountain was closed. We had been planning on spending the night at a hostel that was built into the side of the cliff wall on the opposite face of Celestial Capital, but with the mountain closed we were faced with two options. 1) climb down the entire mountain and spend the second night at the base, or 2) explore the summit and then take the cable car down in the morning. Amid a wave of screaming and pushing from locals and tourists we decided, quite quickly, to leave the crowd and set off down the Western steps of the mountain.

The steps down were steeper than the steps up, and further apart. With one bad knee it wasn’t long before I felt my poor knee screaming at me to rest. With no where to go except back up or all the way down, we pushed forward with the sun rapidly setting behind us. A cane salesman half way down the hill was only too happy to part with a wooden stick which he sold for 5Rmb to me as I hobbled up to his lonley booth. With the aid of the cane I was hobbling along at a speedy rate of a snail. However, throughout the descent we played the tortoise and the hare, as groups rushed past us only to stop exhausted and covered in sweat at each resting point where we slowly hobbeled past without pause. It was a trial, but one with amazing scenery and it was a beautiful and throughout the trip there were subtle surprises like a tiny waterfall or a neon bird that kept my eyes glued to the bamboo forest.

Once at the base I looked at the pedometer I had been wearing since 6 that morning. 13, 561 steps from the hostel to the temple at the bottom of the hill. That’s over 6.2 miles of sheer steps going straight down. The day before we walked 3.8miles going straight up (and then took the cable car when dusk approached). We stepped off our final stair, with the aid of the cane, at 4pm and caught a bus to the closest town. At the town we were lucky enough to find a Best Western. Ironically, we were looking for the hot springs and decided to check into the hotel to shower and change and rest for a bit before setting out to find the springs. During our check in we were informed that the hot springs were not part of the hotel. How fortunate for us, because we would have wandered all over the mountain side looking for a natural spring. We checked in, ate dinner, cleaned up and promptly passed out.

In the morning we were in for a real treat.

-Posted by Lauren.