Sukhothai

This previous 13th to 15th century Thai kingdom was the next destination.  The Northern bus terminal wasn't explicitly mapped out, so we had some trouble locating it.  We asked two young-looking guys for directions, and they said: "ah, far..."  Laden with backpacks on a hot day, it must have been a sorry sight, because minutes later, a small pinkish car pulled up, and it was the same guys offering a ride to the terminal.  Thank you.

We arrived at night, seven hours later.  Moving 

away from the touts, we walked to the city center (which ended up being 4 km away).  About a fourth of the way, I noticed a quickly moving shadow advancing on us.  I turned around - Hello! - and it was this nice German lady traveling solo, just seeking company and security of others in an unknown place.  So, together, we went looking for a decent guesthouse to stay.  For 250 Baht (around 7 dollars) the TR Guesthouse was very nice.

In the morning, we rented a motorbike and drove the 60 km North to check out some of the further off ruins.  The ride was long and freezing cold in the morning, but was well worth it. Hardly anyone there amongst the mostly unrestored temple ruins.  That afternoon, we returned to see the closer central Sukhothai temples.  Many of the 7 meter tall buddhas were narrowly enclosed in the temples.  The setting sun made the park especially atmospheric.  We met up with the German girl Stephanie for dinner at one of the street food stalls.  The Pad thai was good.  All the flying bugs and mosquitos were extra.

Hotel California

We never made it to Burma.  Who would've known that the obstacle would be Thailand?  The only way in and out was Bangkok, and the international airport has been occupied and shut down by an anti-government minority for nearly a week now, with no end in sight.  Like Hotel California, you can check out, but you can never leave...

Initially, we waited around for a couple days, just idling and adjusting plans.  One day, we bussed it over to Kanchanaburi, sight of the infamous Bridge over the River Kwai.  Set along the quiet river, it was the focal point of the "Death Railway,"  Japan's attempt to build a line through Southeast Asia into Burma during WWII.  The museum and an Allied war cemetary were moving.

On a lark, I had decided to email Felix, one of my former colleagues with MSF in Homa Bay.  I heard he was sent somewhere in Southeast Asia, but he was actually in Bangkok!  As we left Kenya, neither of us thought we would see the other again, but here we were, sharing a bottle of Chilean wine and reflecting on this craziness.

Then any hopes for flying out faded by the day.  Bangkok became tiresome in a hurry -- once we had made up our minds to leave, staying any longer became loathsome.  But we were still bound to the tickets to Yangon, and getting a refund (we haven't actually yet) was an engaging experience.  

Pit Stop

To save some money, we took the overnight bus back to Bangkok.  The 12-hour trip was good actually.  The seats were roomy, snacks and water were passed out, and late in the evening they turned off the terribly corny Thai pop star doing his best Ricky Martin imitation in concert.  What nearly did us in was the two-hours it took the city bus to cover the 12 km into central Bangkok during rush hour and through political protests.

The time here turned out to be quite a necessary pit stop.  The zoom on the Canon Dslr went kaput, but luckily the service center came through in under a day (and only $30)!  We managed to secure visas to Burma and also roundtrip flights, within 24 hours.  And I lost a filling from one of my teeth -- potential nightmare -- but walked into a nice place and had a dental cleaning and fix within 30 minutes, all without having to give up a tooth, arm, or leg.

We dashed over to the Grand Palace and  Wat Pho to see the giant golden Reclining Buddha.  This was followed by a crowded water taxi ride on the Chao Phraya.  Classic Bangkok.

Just walked back from one of the crowded city centers.  This city is alive! Impromptu food stalls materialize out of nowhere.  It's packed and people are eating and drinking, others are cooking and selling. There are ladyboys everywhere, a free MTV Asia outdoor concert, and it feels like a massive party.

Internet in Burma is dicey, so I'll post whenever possible

Phuket

The weather was less than ideal, owing to successive tropical cyclones, one of which battered Vietnam prior to passing through.  Luckily it was mostly overcast with the threat of rain, rather than an outright downpour.  At least we could head to the beach where the sand was a golden silk and the ocean calm as a pool.  Any waves making it ashore were barely high enough for bodysurfing. 

We stayed away from Patong, which has a reputation for hedonism and development gone wild.  Nonetheless, the smaller Kata Beach had its share of girly bars and pounding nocturnal bass.  I didn’t know so many Scandinavians visited here.  From all the menu appearances, I inferred that this must have been a good place to try Swedish meatballs and other Northern European specialties.    And every other shop advertised several suits, shirts, and even throw in a silk kimono, all for the too good to believe price of $199…  I thought the price of accommodations and food was expensive, given that it wasn’t all that crowded around.  But it was supposedly “high season.”   

Nearly met my match with the spicy red curry over snapper.  Spicy is good, but this was fiery!  I could barely taste the food anymore and my eyes were starting to water.

Working girls and trolling tourists aside, the highlight was the snorkeling trip to the Similan islands.  After two hours in a car and little more than one hour on a speedboat, we made it to the beautiful chain of small islands in the Andaman Sea, just off the Western Coast.  The green palms atop large granite boulders on perfect crescent beaches reminded me of the Seychelles, or at least what I imagined it from pictures (don’t think we’ll make it there due to the high cost).  A ten minute walk through the bush on one of the islands resulted in at least that many mosquito bites for both of us.  We saw monitor lizards and a few flying foxes, but the snorkeling was world class.  It was mostly hard coral, but the fish species and sheer numbers were a joy to see.  I’d never seen so many foot-and-a-half long parrotfish and wrasses feeding on the coral buffet in clear 1-meter deep water.  Even to 10 meters down the visibility was amazing.

 

From HK to BKK

After leaving China, we spent a couple days at my parents' in HK. It was mostly resting, reading up about the next destinations, and going out for meals. The Holiday lights were on along the buildings lining the waterway in Tsim Tsa Tsui, across from the densely built-up Hong Kong Island. A great stroll with a view of one of the more impressive skylines you'll see.

We arrived relatively late at the international airport outside of Bangkok, but decided to give public transport a try, mostly because of the savings. We hopped onto a bus towards the Victory Monument and arrived just in time to catch the last metro train at midnight, and from there 15 minutes walking to our hotel.

Bangkok was its usual - crowded, congested, and humid. Having been here numerous times, we gave most of the sights a miss. We did make it to the huge Chatuchak sunday market. Nothing quite prepares you, even a previous visit. It's hot and busy, and you have to drink regularly to prevent feeling like you'll collapse in the narrow alleys. Despite browsing almost the entire day, we didn't quite cover all of the stalls, probably over a thousand... Everything is sold -- clothing, shoes, luggage, household goods, souvenirs, artwork, pets, and much more. It's not quite as cheap as I recall, even from two years ago, and the bargaining seems less so. Many stalls have clued into displaying "fixed prices." At least it's not as disillusioning as China where vendors regularly will start with a figure ten times the "real price," and no bargains are to be had. The Chinese stuff was cheaper in Thailand... That said, we didn't really buy anything.

We sat down for a quick dinner at one of the stalls. Didn't quite notice it initially, but at some point we realized that the din and noise had silenced, the eating had stopped, and most people were standing up. It was 6 pm and they were observing the national anthem being played. Oops.

I had some shirts and trousers tailored, in anticipation of someday returning back to work. Otherwise the big thrill was to partake in all the great food Thailand had to offer. The pad thai, of course was very spicy and tasty. The mango with sticky rice was heavenly -- super juicy mangoes without fibers. And who could pass up coconuts and mangoes, fresh or in shakes?
There's so much that looked good that you're paralyzed with indecision. Steph once had "eater's regret," perhaps akin to buyer's remorse -- when, right after you've eaten, you happen upon something that looks even better?

Off to Phuket

Yangshuo

This had to be one of the most uniquely beautiful places in China.  From the moment the bus traversed the road from Guilin, the nearby scenery dazzled the eyes.  In the setting sun, the karst formations and pinnacles jut out of the ground into the haze and mist, dreamy and mysterious, as if you are in some strange wonderland.  Sometimes the hills seem like jagged waves, other times vaguely like the imaginative names given, like "fish out of the water, tortoise climbing the hill, and 8 immortals crossing the river."  I never got "grandpa watching apple..."

 

Yangshuo is a backpacker's haunt, much smaller and quieter than Guilin, but immensely more charming and relaxing.  Though rapidly changing, good rooms here were very cheap during our stay (130 yuan for a riverview and less than 60-80 elsewhere).  Lots of good food -- Western and Chinese, including the local specialties Beer Fish, Pork with taro, and Li River shrimp. Don't know about the spicy dog listed in the menu...    

The surrounding country side was so quiet, the everyday lives in the small villages seemingly undisturbed.  No cars, no motorbikes, no noise.  Just farmers plowing their fields using water buffaloes and ladies watering the vegetable crops with large wooden water vats balanced from a plank across their backs.  Rice seemed so organic and hard won -- the seeding, transplanting, and harvesting, to the separating, drying, and milling, made you never want to waste another grain.

Rented bikes took us through narrow paths into villages, through fields, and often led nowhere. Another popular activity was the motorized bamboo rafts up the Li River to take in the scenery. From the town of Xinping, this view is what appears on the back of the Chinese 20RMB note. 

Back on the main roads, it was the usual congestion and crowding.  The local buses packed as many bodies onboard as possible, and then would cram in a few more along the way - no chickens or livestock though.  We sat on one bus that actually left only half full, but proceeded to slow troll along the route for the next 20 minutes.  

The trip back to Hong Kong went something like this:  2 hour bus ride to Guilin, 30 minute walk with packs to the next bus, 30 minute ride to airport, 1 hour flight to Shenzen, 45 minutes cab trip to the border, shuttle bus, border crossing, shuttle bus, then 30 minutes on the minibus home. Late night dinner of fried rice and wonton soup at 2 AM.

Pictures

Beijing

We’ve arrived in the big city!  This place is vast and fast.  It’s one of the world’s great metropolises, and with the recent Olympics, has definitely caught up.  So have the prices.  We started near Beijing’s center and for the next several hours checked out numerous lodgings. There were tons of places available, but most of it either “too nice” and above our price range or more affordable and very grotty.  Miles of walking later, we gladly took the first clean room at the New Dragon Hostel for $25…

In the morning, we walked over to see the former imperial palace, the “not so Forbidden City.”  Hordes of tour groups, not unlike the marching armies of yore, cross the moats to invade the hallowed grounds.  It can be hard to squeeze through its gates, but compound remains the chief attraction, courtyard after courtyard and tower after tower.  Standing from the emperor’s dais, imagine what it felt like to command the Middle Kingdom.  A lot of history has occurred here and many emperors have come through…

Pictures

Adjacent to its proud history lies more recent history.  Imposing Soviet-era buildings of the Peoples Party, peoples’ this, peoples’ that, and whatnot surround the central Tiananmen Square.  Mao’s embalmed remains are on display and a huge portrait looks benevolently down.  The place is crawling with police, plain and plain clothed.  Security cameras are the eyes in the sky.  It’s kind of fun to play “spot the undercover policeman.”  One was taking pictures of people walking round.  We even got to witness security in action.  A group of Chinese tourists was in the act of unfurling some kind of banner, probably harmless.  Sirens on and horns tooting, a security car raced over and immediately pounced on the group.  No expression of any kind allowed.

On the other hand, the food here has been great!  No donkey noodles here (but I’m sure it could be found…).  We found a moderately priced restaurant with great Chinese food.  Had to try the Beijing/Peking duck, but the spicy eggplant and braised pork were maybe even better.   The street food is tremendous and fairly cheap – grilled spicy kebabs, meat or vegetable filled breads, spicy noodles, steamed buns, and whatever else your eyes can feast on.  There’s squid on a stick and fried crab, but who the heck eats live, wiggling scorpions on a stick?  Why?

To avoid the exorbitant tour fees, we took public transportation to the Great Wall.  Bus 980 for 40km to Miyun, which dropped us off at the edge of the city – and then what… No other option than to negotiate with the private taxi drivers, but it worked out well enough.  He drove the 75km to Simatai and waited three hours until we were through.  The first sight of the wall was jaw dropping.  This section was unbelievably steep, high walls snaking high up the surrounding narrow mountainsides, it makes you wonder why there was even a need.  The climb up looked extremely strenuous – we took a cable car up halfway and walked to 12 towers.  At times the wall was so steep you could not even see portions below.  The surrounding mountainous terrain and the relative solitude completed the experience.

Back in Beijing, the Temple of Heaven was heavenly, but Jiangsu Park less so.  We were “templed out.” The old Summer Palace was nice, but felt a bit too artificial and well renovated.  Many of the old neighborhoods and narrow hutongs now have either too much neon or have been razed to make way for something more modern. 

Deserts, Caves, and more Trains...

China uses only one time zone (Beijing time) for the entire country, so at 9:30 am we stepped out of the train and into to the cold daybreak. A cheap taxi ride took us into Dunhuang city, only after a short detour to pick up the guide for a tour we had no interest in.  After finding a good room, we boarded a minibus to the Mogao Caves.

The caves are something to behold.  Over two hundred in number, carved over centuries into a desert cliff, they contain some of the most significant and rich Buddhist paintings and clay statues dating back to the days the trade routes held sway.  A few have been pillaged by turn of the century Western collectors, but what remains is impressive.  While some of the paint has oxidized black, the mineral lapis lazuli remains vivid.  The ceilings are painted with a thousand Buddhas and all is adorned with Apsaras and portraits of the Western Kingdom. Nowadays, the caves are cemented closed and locked up.  An attendant will let you see only about ten of them and no photography is allowed, though outside you can buy precious reproductions at prices to match.

Pictures

Dunhuang had warm days with clear blue skies, turning leaves, and cold nights. I saw few visitors and not a Westerner in 3 days.  Sites were uncrowded and admission rates were half off.  The town center felt still and not much was happening at the night market.  It was more difficult to order food, as the language barrier seemed that much higher.  A bowl of noodles looked appetizing, but I was tempered by guidebook description of noodles with donkey meat being the local specialty.

The next day, we were nearly the only visitors at another set of caves.  The work was interesting, but we were only shown 5 caves.  In town, we ordered dumplings and got the largest plate I have ever seen.  The highlight though, was the nearby Mingsha Shan desert dunes.  The towering dunes were simply majestic.  We rode camels around and on foot climbed up the steep sharp ridges, the sun-exposed sands hot and the others ice cool.  Then we slid down the tall face on wooden toboggans.  If they had not been charging, I could have done that all day. We visited the Crescent Moon Spring with the surreal pagoda in the desert and finished up with another climb up the tall mountain dune for some spectacular vistas.  The shifting sand and sliding down made the going tough, but the way down was pure bliss.  

No flights out of Dodge – so we’re taking the train back to Xi’an.  Same route the second time is at least twice less fantastic…

 

Silk Road by Train

Xi’an being the easternmost terminus of the ancient Silk Road, it seemed a nice adventure to at least travel part of the way West.  The most affordable option was the overnight train K591, a mere 23 hours to cover the 1800km to Dunhuang.  We took the “soft sleeper,” despite double the cost – it was either 2 sets of upper and lower bunks in a closed compartment versus 2 triple-stacked without doors…

The accommodations were actually nice, with good blankets and enough space.  The window views made you feel small as the vast steppes, desert, and the craggy mountains rushed by.  The villages, so isolated in distance and time, make you wonder why anyone would stay, as the train and world still rush by.  The engineering was impressive – the thousands of km of track, much over passes, on bridges and sheer mountainsides, and through tunnels.  The Chinese have built and are continuing an amazing and probably unrivaled infrastructure.  Yet 23 hours was an exercise in patience.  Closed doors didn’t necessarily keep out the irritating cigarette smoke nor the nasty expectorating and spitting noises.  Some of the passengers operated only on one volume – loud.  Luckily we had a good cabin mate.  I don’t know how she did it, but she startled up from dead sleep around 4AM and hurriedly disembarked, nearly missing her stop in some dark place.  The distant sunrise was amazing, the freezing night giving way to warm orange red glow. 

Dynasties and Terracotta Warriors

This is why people come to Xi’an.  In the early 1970’s a local farmer digging for a well, unearthed remnants of the first Qin Emperor’s tomb – he found the Terracotta Army…

Though much cheaper, it’s always a bit of an adventure to get there independently.  A short taxi ride took us to the busy railway station.  From there, we navigated through the array of buses and misdirections from tour hawkers, until we found bus 306.  We were in business, and one hour later we hurried through the gate and into pit 1 before the hordes of tour groups would arrive.

The hall, about the size of a football stadium, covered row after row of the amazing life-size and life-like warriors in ready formation pose.  With nearly 6000 distinctive faces, 2200-year history stared back.  Complete with horses, chariots, and a vast layout of burial pits, the scope and immensity of the project leaves one dumbfounded.  Seven hundred thousand people labored forty years!  This must be on par with seeing the Egyptian pyramids.

The next day we ventured 45 km the other way, again by public bus -- this time to see the tomb of Emperor Han Jinling.  The site has been barely excavated, but its thousands of figurines of armies, live-stock, and objects of daily life, all in detailed miniature, are no less impressive than the more renowned Terracotta Army.  The museum actually sits atop the excavated pits, and takes you into the ground, behind glass panels. 

The Shaanxi museum in the city was free, but displayed priceless history of the ancient Chinese.  The fantastic glazed pots, bronze tripods, weapons, and art objects amaze more when considering some of them are 5000 years old…

Otherwise, Xi’an is a pleasant city.  It’s thoroughly modern with huge edifices all around, fairly convenient, and there isn’t much of the throaty spitting.  In the morning, prior to opening, groups of store employees line up in front of the doors and perform calisthenics in unison.  The guards also, but their kung fu moves seem half-hearted and sloppy…   The taxis are easy to flag down and cost little, about US 0.15 cents per km, though the driving can be nerve-wracking.  

Nights were very cold, but the food hearty. Steamed dumplings and Tsingtao beer with my father was good.  We walked nearly nightly to the lively Muslim Quarter for the great snacks – freshly roasted chestnuts, black rice-meal donuts, steamed rice cakes on a stick, and a dinner of spicy roast lamb, noodles, and bread pancakes.  A sad experience is the beggars walking around with a bowl and chopsticks, willing to eat the leftover food right off your plate.  My Dad offered a Coke go with it.  At first he declined, but he changed his mind, quickly turning around and gulping it down.  Who can resist a Coke?

See the pictures

San Francisco Days

The three-week interlude in the US was great to charge up the batteries.  The MSF Refugee Camp exhibit in SF was both rewarding and enjoyable.  Fellow volunteers were fantastic.  The turn-out was decent and most people seemed interested, except for some of the easily distracted high school students who had more on their minds.  I remain with admiration for schoolteachers, the saints they are.

I had forgotten how pleasant San Francisco can be in October.  Most of the days were a warm 70F with crystal clear skies.  There was Fleet Week, which meant an incredible aerial show of fighter jets over the city. To gaze from the Marina Green at the Golden Gate Bridge on top of flat bay waters dotted with sailboats is to understand many visitor’s infatuation with the city.  Views from the steep Union street and Coit Tower are postcard perfect, even the Bay Bridge looks good.  We walked about like tourists, taking in the Cliff House and Ocean Beach, gelati in North Beach, Fisherman’s Wharf, and Ghirardelli Square.  Of course, it doesn’t last long, if you know San Francisco.  Soon the bone-chilling moist fog and wind came rolling in and all is enveloped in thick billows of grey.

The backpacks packed up -- travel books, camera, and computer stuffed in, it was time to hit the road again.  Next destination China, but first another visit to the parents in Hong Kong