fillingthegaps

in my last post we had just arrived at the ‘GER” the Mongolian name for their circular felt-insulated, collapsible homes. 

Rach had found this place through the ‘Couch-surfing’ web-site. The original intention was that this would be a time when the kids could experience real winter conditions with heaps of snow and frigid temperatures. The kids were really looking forward to snow, but alas, it was not to be. Frigid temperatures yes. Iced-over river, yes. But snow? Only on the distant mountains. Never the less, this was to be one of the most unforgettable experiences of our lives.

As we made our way across the rocky section we noticed a quaint little shed in one corner. Gardening shed? No this is the toilet chaps, equipped with the very best traditional         2-plank squat facility. (a great incentive for learning the art of ‘hanging on’ in the middle of a minus 10C night!)

When we reached the Ger we wondered how we were going to get in. Rob was about twice the size of the door opening!

However our smiling hostess with limited English beckoned us in, and we struggled into the relative gloom on the inside. Now outside we have had clear blue skies since I can’t remember when, with the sun always dazzling our vision. And the air temperature has been hovering around 3 – 10 C. Suddenly we were pitched into the relative gloom of a windowless Ger with a room temperature around 28 C.

Let me take a moment to describe a Ger. It is circular, approximately 6-7m in diameter. The wall height is about 1.5 M and the centre is supported on two poles about 1 m apart, which are about 2.5 M high. The two centre poles support a timber ring (about 1.5 M diameter.) This ring is toothed like a giant cog-wheel and into the gaps in the teeth are slotted supporting poles that angle out to the outer wall.

The outer wall is made of a continuous trellis –like lattice. Wrapped around the lattice, and over the roof poles, is laid a heavy layer (or  more likely several layers) of felt. Holding the felt in place is a heavy cotton ‘sleeve – the size of the Ger. Holding the sleeve in place are several wide straps like a couple of belts around a rotund father christmas. Inside, the floor consists of timber layed on the ground (which has been levelled ) and then covered with felt and finally some more timber sheeting. In the centre of the Ger, between those two poles is a coal-burning range, the flue of which sticks up through the roof. The walls are hung with curtain-like material.  And this is where everyone lives together for the Winter months. t it can be blowing a gale, and 20 C below, inside it is a quiet, cosy 25 C or more!

But there was so much about living in this place that gave pause for thought. I have talked before about contrasts, but these two days were just staggering. Consider: our host has a degree in Computer Science, and works in the IT section of the City Library. This is a man who is passionate about the Environment; about progress for his people, about the value of families, Education and so on. A man who has a passion for lifting the level, not just of his family, but his Country! And this is no idle dreamer: he has his feet on the ground and he is doing something about his passion. He is heavily involved in producing a newspaper designed to provoke awareness, the need for change, respect for the values of earlier generations, the need to care for the environment, how to budget, how to live sustainably. Oh his ideas and words just flow!

And what are the circumstances of this modest but passionate man? He lives in a Ger. No piped water to the house. Where does the water come from? He buys it from the water-station at  the bottom of the hill. Then he drags the barrel of water uphill on a trolly, with his wife pushing from behind, just about every day. Try that when it is 40 below and everything is iced up, as it is in mid winter. Power is trailed from somewhere on a thin cable and lights 2 bulbs hanging from the roof. But note – one of the bulbs is a power-saving mercury vapour bulb. He is checking to see if it is all that it is said to be. And I have told you about the toilet facilities. Next year he plans to dig a 2-person facility for more convenience for his . No shower, no bath not even a wash hand basin. Just a tap in one corner, a small tank above filled by hand and ladle. Get rid of waste water? carry it in a big basin down to the cess-pit next to the dunny. Or if the weather is bad, scuttle a few feet from the door and chuck it into a convenient gully. On a fine sunny day, the cow dung is drying nicely.

 The wife has collected it from their two cows (oh, didnt I tell you about the two cows they hace in a shed a couple of metres from the door?) 

 Today she can go over her collection carefully, seeing which are dry enough to use on the fire to supplemnt the coal. Does she see this as degrading? No – it’s a very practical example of sustainable living. In this house (Ger) nothing is wasted. All the vegetable peelings, leftovers from meals etc are fed to the cows, to supplement the fodder they have too buy during the winter months. Which reminds me – in the summer they take their cows up the the hills behind them, to graze on the lush grass.

We went for a walk up there the other day. Right now at the end of winter, the hillsides are literally bare rock and gravel. But we were assured that in a moths time the hills will be covered in green and there will be lots of grass for the cattle and for making hay. It appeasers that any one can take their cattle to graze there. Of course you cannot leave them unattended because they will be stolen.

So this is the life for this young couple and their four bright, intelligent kids. The Library computer technician has been overseas 4 times. He has seen how life is lived in the West. Is he envious or despondent about his lot? Not in the least! He is convinced that things will improve, and he is going to be part of the process. He believes that Mongolia has much to teach the West, and he is confident that the day will come

He also has a sense of humour! He confessed that he accepted Rachael’s requst to stay because ‘he wanted to see how manny could be squeezed into his GEr! There wre 6 of them and 11 of us – that made 17 of us laid out like sardines in a tin when we ‘went to bed’ Bed by the way, was your sleeping bag on thee floor.

His wife, by the way, had studied dress design and cooking at Tech college. How did she feel about grubbing around in sloppy sweater and gumboots, sorting the cow-dung? I had occasion to ask her if she was happy and she she replied with a quiet smile on her face, that she loved looking after her family. End of story.

This will (I hope!) rate as the most arduous bit of travelling we will do.

Not that the train was uncomfortable, far from it, but we were on the train for 30 hrs and then rounded off the trip by travelling by bus to a Mongolian Ger. This was one of the felt ‘round houses’ that traditionally, nomadic Mongolian and Russian shepherds lived in. This was not a ‘Tourist’ version: this was the real thing, and we spent two fascinating days living with them. But I am getting ahead of myself.

The train journey out of the mega-city of Beijing started by slowly discarding the high-rises and super-buildings and finally getting into the countryside.

        

Immediately the train started a long gradual climb through incredibly rugged terrain: diving in and out of tunnels for literally hours, the countryside becoming more and more barren and inhospitable

_ eventually catching another glimpse of the Great Wall – still snaking its way North.

The terrain reminded me of scenes of the Afghan Border. A great part of the time diving through tunnels that cut through the mountainous region. Across ravines more rail tracks could be seen also diving through more tunnels. Incredibly difficult terrain. Dry dry dry. This was countryside just emerging from a harsh winter – months of sub-zero temperatures  and no rain.

Climbed slowly to over 5000ft Our popping ears – and Rob’s GPS confirmed that we were indeed getting high up. Air very dry and cold. Reminded me of flying in an aircraft. Gradually the rugged mountains gave way to more rolling hill country – still brown & dry. Not a blade of grass to be seen, not a tree in sight.

Later seen across a vast flat plain (reminded me of Klondike Corner in the SI but 10 times bigger: two huge goods trains going in opposite directions. Each with 2 huge engines coupled together and the trains looked up to 1/2 km long.

Iced-over ponds and semi-frozen rivers dotted the scenery.

Passing us in opposite direction every 10 mins or less, another goods train! In what seems the middle of a wilderness, signs of intense economic activity.

In ‘the middle of nowhere’ vast viaduct structures to carry rail & road above the countryside. Why? Every where evidence of vast infrastructure development, seemingly well ahead of current needs.

A sudden pollution-producing building block set in the middle of nothing. What purpose?

At about 8.15pm we reached the China/Mongolia border and this started the the longest and most arduous border crossing I have ever endured. The whole process lasted from 8.15pm to 2.00am. It was impossible to get any sleep during that time. Why such a long process? Well the reason is that China and Mongolia run there own rail gauges, and they differ by about 120mm! The most logical answer to this dilemma is that everybody disembarks and gets on another train for the Mongolian sector. But no! These guys have a much more ingenious way of dealing with the problem – change the bogies under the carriages! Hard to believe but that it what they did/do. Given about 16 carriages, each with 2 sets of massive 4-wheel bogy sets, this could never be a quick  job!

A huge workshop,

 

well over 100 m long equipped with many service station type hydraulic lifting stations and with twin gauge tracks is set off to one side of the line. By dint of endless shunting backwards and forwards a few carriages at a time are shuffled into position in the workshop A carriage (complete with passengers if you elected to stay on board) is lifted bodily off the bogy sets which are then rolled away. New-gauge bogies are then rolled in place under the raised carriage which is the lowered onto them.

 

A smooth operation except for the shuffling of carriages through the workshop. This took 2-3 hours with endless hooting signals from the train driver accompanied by bone-shaking crashes as the rain shuffles back and forth endlessly. It seemed part of the Safety inspection procedures to jarringly push and then pull the newly-mounted carriages. The racket was hideous, bang, crash, toot, toot, on and on for several hours. Of course the gangs performing this re-building of the train are  all working in about 0C temperature!

Of course, while carriages disconnected all carriage heating is off. Prob 1C outside so train cools off. Also all the toilets are locked while the train under service. Cold night air and no toilets not a good combination! There were a lot of anxious faces during this time.

Then came Customs and Immigration officers, taking passports, checking forms, handing out more forms, passing passports back, collecting passports again and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Finally finished at 2.0am.

We awoke a few brief hours later to a barren landscape of Mongolian Steppe. Actually the Gobi desert! Looks like Canterbury plains after 3 yr drought. Brown undulating plains as far as the eye can see. Apparently Winter is the dry season.  Occasional cattle nibbling at what appears to be pure desert! Air is crackling dry. Throat dry, lining of nose dry and tingling, throat feels parched all time.

To pass the time away I introduced some of the kids to Shanghai (the card game) and we spent a few fun hours at it. Some friends of mine will be most pleased to hear that the disease is spreading!

Hour upon hour of flat brown plains Not a tree in sight in any direction –it must be piteously hot in the summer. A desolate and barren outlook.

Finally we made a slow arrival at a quiet Ulaan Bataar station. Not the mad scramble to be first that has been the norm throughout South East Asia. Instead, a new cultural style that we will soon become accustomed to: a steady purposeful progress of burley people who happily shoulder you out of the way as they make their way.

 

Once on the platform we realise we a have over an hour to wait before our ‘Couch-surfing’ host is due to meet us. So Rob & I take off to look for money and place where we will be able to buy tickets, while rest waited patiently for our contact to arrive.

This is a fairly ram-shackle city. It reminded me of Yangon: the same crumbling footpaths and roads, broken facilities, rubbish everywhere, lack of order and general air of decay. There are the big modern buildings dotted around but these are few and far between.

When we returned, we found the party talking to a chap on his bike, with a young boy hanging around. As I approached I said “no sign of your contact yet”? thinking this unprepossessing duo were not likely to be our hosts. How wrong can you be! Our host had just ducked away from work with his son to meet us. His son, (all of 9 years old) it transpires, will take us to his Ger on ‘his’ bus. He pointed across the road to where I could see a number of mini-buses parked. Things are looking up I thought. How wrong can you be? Again! ‘His’ bus turns out to be the no.20 which his family always catch! Fortunately we are at the start of the bus route and so we get ourselves and our packs on quite easily. The journey takes about 30 mins. The bus stops at every stop. At every stop more people get on, no-one seems to be getting off. Half way into our journey it is standing room only. Still the bus stops. No-one is refused entry. More people get on. Again the the bus stops. More people get on. This is just impossible. Squashed next to me is a lady with a pair of crutches and one leg. Someone has grudgingly given her a seat. She is being pressed steadily into my lap. Hanging above us is another woman going greener by the minute and swaying dangerously close to a faint. I shove open the sliding window and encourage her to sit on the top of my (soft) suitcase. Somehow she manages to collapse onto the case. The bus stops, more people get in. This is totally unreal! The woman in front angrily slams the window shut again, but some colour has returned to the cheeks of the green lady. Mercifully, she will not throw up all over me.

Finally we reach our stop. Through the hubbub I hear a muffled shout from Rob, buried somewhere in the crowd, and we fight our way off the bus. Where are we? The district has been getting steadily more run down and scruffy, and here we are, on the dusty side of the road with seemingly nowhere inviting to go!

The boy gives us an encouraging smile and we head off, up the side of a dusty gully. The bottom of the gully is evidently the site of the local rubbish dump, but we trudge wearily up the side, I dragging my trusty wheeled suitcase through the dust and rocks.

Further on up we struggle (I am feeling just about done-for!) when the boy swings open a narrow ‘door’ to an alleyway.

 

We squeeze through this and find a barren rocky area in front of us, with a couple of Gers tucked in the corners. This is to be home for the next couple of nights.

 

China is a land of perplexing contrasts and I think you would have to live here for a long time to really understand what makes this place tick.

Take this area where we are lodging: it’s called the Hutong and it is a fascinating area of ancient clustered dwellings. These dwellings are tiny buildings, connected together by a complex grid of narrow ally-ways but all surrounded and protected by high walls. Entry to these buildings is via ornamental doorways leading into (often) some sort of courtyard. Every thing is incredibly cramped and yet they close themselves off with high walls. Here in the Hutong it appears that peasant type folk live, in the heart of a modern bustling city.

Then there is the ‘Forbidden City’ – another ancient complex  hiding behind high walls’

So they love their privacy and seclusion.

So you would think they would respect other peoples privacy, but quite the reverse is the case. I have never come across such open, in-your-face curiosity as we are experiencing in this country. I have actually been shouldered out of the way so that someone could get a closer look at one of the kids. People don’t  just stop and view you –they come up to you face to face and peer over your shoulder! It’s quite bizarre.

And then on the other hand, for special occasions they love a show of wide open spaces’. We went to Tiananmen square the other day (supposedly the biggest public square  in the world)and roamed around its vast open wind-swept spaces. We dutifully noted that the monument in the centre is the largest monument in Asia (why is that important? I still dont know what the monument commemorated) and looked at the sculptures of the people’s struggle.

Then yesterday we went and had a look at the ‘Birdsnest” and the “Cube’ at the Olympic Games complex. Staggering amounts of space. The paved concourse area is so long that it just disappears into the haze in the distance (although with Beijing’s haze that does not have to be that far!)

But in such a crowded city it is surprising to see all that space. But this isn’t space like Western Springs or the Domain. These are vast areas of concrete with a heavy sprinkling of army and police personnel scattered around the place.

These are not places for a family picnic or a game of cricket. These are places to remind you of the power of the State and the success of the country. There may be parks around this city, but I dare say you will have to pay to get in.

The contrasts continue. The Birdsnest and the other Olympic buildings are a magnificent feat of modern engineering.

There is plenty of modern technology here so the country is not at all backward in that sense. Cutting the city into blocks are 5 or 6 lane highways – always jam-packed with frantic traffic with a healthy smattering of Audis, Mercedes, Porsche etc,

Under the streets runs a sophisticated network of subway trains as smart and efficient as anything around today. And the inter-city trains are clean, smooth and efficient and run exactly on time. I read an article the other day saying that China is going to enlarge its fleet of 200 Bullet trains with another 600 over the next 10 years!  

The logistics of a big, densly-populated country are mind-boggling to this Kiwi, Meanwhile, sharing the streets above are ancient tri-cycle goods carriers carting anything and everything to goodness- knows where

To finish my ‘contrasty’ comments, let me tell you about the work site just around the corner from us here. On this work site a group of 20 or so workmen are producing heavy timber structures. We assume these are either in preparation for a traditional building to be erected on the site, or maybe being used in the Hutong Renovation project which is evidently in progress here. The fascinating thing is to see the old-time methods they are using

The logs are first de-barked by hand, and then planed into perfectly straight and round logs – that you would swear had been trued on a machine. Then the logs are fashioned with jointed interfaces using axe, adze and bow saw, We stood and watched them this morning – marking out a log using caligraphy pen and ink, and a black chalk string. These fellows are real craftsmen, fashioning buildings the way it must have been done over 2000 years ago.

And nearby similar techniques are being used to re-roof one of the Hutong dwellings.Small clay tiles painstakingly laid by hand in black mortar.

Carefully pointed and brushed down as they go with a grass brush. End result quite exquisite.   So it seems that the ancient skills are being preserved alongside the modern technology. You’ve got to be happy about that. 

There is no doubt about it – this wall is all, and more, than anything you have any logical right to expect. No matter what perspective you take, this wall should overpower your senses and your muscles!

Aesthetically, it has a sinuous grandeur that is quite breathtaking

Logistically, it defies the imagination

Engineering-wise, it is a colossal achievement

As a symbol of what absolute power can achieve, it is a mightily  sobering experience

As a physical exercise, it will stretch you well beyond your comfort zone.

I have already written about the challenge of getting there and back in my last post and Rach has already posted a graphic description of the day, with some beautiful pictures, so I really cannot add much more to that,

But the day was too significant to  leave unrecorded, so this is my small comment.

The Wall of course, meanders for 100’s of kilometers along China’s Western border and it is possible to take a sample of it from many different spots, Our spot was  not too far from Beijing, but not that close either – considerably further than I thought it would be. Rob’s GPS regurgitated a good summery of facts and figures and some of you may be interested in the following section. (if not, please skip on regardless)

Great Wall Walk 29 March 2009

Trip to Jinshanling….Bus 980 – 72 kmsMinivan – 69 kms

I suppose from a planning perspective that made things simple: just stay on the ridge and head North. But the resulting profile of the Wall defies logic and ones imagination. How you start to dig foundations and  build a wall on the steep slopes of a mountain side, I cannot imagine. How you haul umpteen million bricks over such broken terrain  I can;t imagine either. Not to mention paving slabs, roofing tiles etc etc.

To get started on the Wall you first have to get up onto the ridge – and that is your first big test. These stone steps were not planned by NZ architects – they were cut into the hillside to get up there somehow, anyhow. So the tread widths are irregular, and the riser heights are irregular. No steady rhythm here. For me it was trip, stumble,stagger, gasp until mercifully we were at the top. In my ignorance I had thought that once we were at the top, the Wall itself would undulate gently up and down across the countryside. Hah!

How wrong can you be? The climb up to the ridge was merely a warm up – now the work really begins! Clambering up almost impossibly steep steps, cruising briefly between watch-towers  

before stepping gingerly around crumbling ledges, gasping for more air, sweating profusely and trying to appear totally in control of those shaking legs – was for me a real challenge.

Fortunately we had to take a delightful short-cut away from the wall for a few km, because we were running out of time, The brief few km of dirt path winding through the vallies with the mountains and Wall high above was a delightful reprieve from the strenuous stuff of the wall.

But we had to climb back up, and clamber through another 14 watch-towers before descending down a steep gully and across a Swing bridge, and back to base

What a fantastic experience it was! If I see little else of Beijing, with this my senses are well satisfied.

Today we went on quite an epic trek and for me I am sure it will remain one of the highlights of this adventure. We went for a hike on part of China’s Great Wall. We started quite early – early enough to have on all available clothing and still feel the chill in the air – and we did not get back to the Hostel until about 9.45pm = and it was bitterly cold

I will give you my impressions of that day in the next blog, but first let me tell you about the other aspect of ‘ripping’. The East is well known for the entrepreneurial zeal that its citizens have for making a dollar wherever possible, and for taking advantage of Tourists in particular. You quickly become accustomed to having to reject the first price tendered for anything, and are prepared to enter into a bargaining session for most purchases. But our outing today was memorable not just for the magnificence of the wall but for the number of times the ‘rippers’ had a go at us!

To get to the section of wall that we had selected was going to require a long-ish bus journey followed by a long-ish mini-bus ride.  We walked

 to the bus stop, passing through some rather palatial buildings

 and found our bus waiting-that was good. After getting aboard the conductor=lady came down to take our money, It has been quite normal for he littlies to go free and for some of t5he others to be half-fare (the Chinese system works on the heights of children rather than age) after explaining details of the kids as best we could, the conductor was still unsure how much tot charge us. The driver then appeared (in a bad mood) and said we would all have to pay full price)   Rip-off no, 1

After we had been in the bus for about an hour, the bus pulls up on the edge of he Expressway and the driver comes down and says this is where we get off. WE had asked for a particular town, but this was not in any town! But what to do?  So off we get, thinking that we can possibly walk into town which is visible about a km away. But surprise surprise, who should appear but a gaggle of scalper car-drivers, offering to take us who knows where, since they spoke no English and we speak no Chinese. The light dawns! Rip-ff no. 2 Bus driver is obviously in cahoots with the scalpy drivers  and dellivers us into their hands. Burt we are well used to walking and we are by now a hard-nosed bunch.  Most scalperss drift away but a man and woman combination are determined to hook us. They start off at Y450 for 2 cars to take us. We laugh and walk away. They fairly quickly drop the price but in the negotiations, carried out as we walk closer and closer to the town, we establish that we are only interested in a mini-van to carry all of us, and it would need to take us to one spot and then pick us up from another (this all done by Rob by means of pencil and paper, arrows and lines and numbers, plus a copy of the Chinese names he has photographed and then stored on his Palm! We walk off and leave them again and we think we have seen the last of them, but no – they catch us up in the car and get out and start feverish offers once more. This time the offer is acceptable: Y100. We  still did not know if this was acceptable because we really did not know how far it was to the wall.  However, after a 45 min drive  we decided we had got good value. Y100 instead of the original Y900.

Then we got to the wall and purchased 5 tickets for the walk from point a to point b. Rob had asked for the 5 children’s tickets first expecting a concession rate. But 5 adult rates were charged. However at that point communications broke down as Rob tried to get the 3 adult tickets, they waved us through> So we did not argue! Rip-off no 3 ended in our favour.

So now we started the walk.

 And it was terrific. We were pressed for time  and so did a bush-walk diversion for a few km before rejoining the wall. What’s this? A guy demanding that we pay the same amount over again because we are just starting the walk! We try to explain to him that we have already paid from a) to b) and b) is within sight just 5 more towers along the wall, But no he is unshakable and we have to cough up. A passing European informs us that he is experienced in these matters and we have to pay as we are passing into a new sector controlled by a new ‘division’ It reminded me of our Maori brothers way of charging for things. This feeling was further reinforced when we had to cross a final swing bridge and found, not to our surprise, a guy sitting at the other end collecting a fee for using the bridge!

The final attempt to relieve us of our cash came at the end of the mini bus ride back into the town. Rob hauls out the agreed Y100 and the driver asks for Y120 – due to ‘extra parking money.’ We  are a bit tired by now so we don’t argue, give him the Y100 say thank you and walk away.

It was a ripper of a day!

In a sense, there has not been much to “write home about” just lately. The day of our train journey was filled with getting our gear organised, haircuts for Rach and ERgirl2 and a final walk around part of the base of the Old City Wall’

Lboy8  got to grips with a park abacus,  and Spring abounded………….

 We have train-ed up from Xi’an to Beijing and then got settled in to our new digs.

The train journey happened overnight, about an 11 hour starting at 8,0pm and arriving in Beijing early morning, so there was not much opportunity to see the passing countryside. The sleeper was the deluxe version of stalag III having semi-enclosed bunks, 2 rows 3 high facing each other. The bunks are “firm” and not conducive to a restful night for an old bloke with a sore back – but the rest of the team declared them excellent, so I bow to their superior experience in train-rating.  But the dawn did reveal an as-yet unexplained facet of farming up here in the northern regions. The light was too poor for photography so you will have to be content it my words.

We were passing through an agricultural area – acre after acre of large flat fields with neat rows of seedlings sprouting away. But set in neat roe=rows among the plants were these strange mounded structures. At first glance they appeared to be long neat mounds   of earth. The shape was that of a long rectangular aero plane wing: the leading edge of the ‘wing rose vertically for about 1 1/2 m and gracefully curved over to the ‘top’ of the  wing, which then curved gracefully downwards towards the ground. The ‘wings ‘ were about 100m long. It was a real puzzle. Later on in the journey we saw some ‘wings’’ under construction. A rammed earth or block wall was formed at the leading edge, then what appeared to be saplings or maybe bamboo was set into the wall at about 1/2 m intervals. The vertical ribs were then pulled over in a graceful curve to be secured to the lower wall at the trailing edge.  When we first saw these things we thought they were quite low mounds. With the increasing light we were able to see that they were high enough for a person to walk under.

After the ribs were bent over, a layer of polythene was laid over them,  followed by, rattan matting, unrolled on top of the plastic sheeting, So now we have a sort of a greenhouse structure, but with the barest of filtered light coming through. What was the purpose? Our best guess is that they are for raising seedlings in the early season when protection from frost would be vital. But who knows?

We arrived at  Beijing West railway station – not the main station. But of course it was, as we have come to expect, vast, and teeming with thousands of people. Having arrived, we decided to purchase our next set of train tickets while we were on the spot so to speak. (we also had time to kill before arriving at the new Guest House)  

But nothing is ever simple to the stranger: an enquiry at the ticketing hall revealed that tickets for Mongolia had to be purchased at the International hotel. ( a travel guide book also said that the tickets could be purchased on the 2nd floor of the station, but a quick search drew a blank in this area. Digging into Lonely Planet revealed that the Hotel was on a certain bus route so it was decided that Rob and I (taking Tgirl4  and ER2 along for the ride) would shoot off and see if we could get the tickets, Well get them we did but only after baling out from the bus a couple of stops early (its not easy picking the right spot when you are not sure if the conductor knows where you are going and all the signs are Chinese!) So we grabbed a taxi who took us to the hotel.  There we discovered that the Ticketing Agency had an office on the 2nd floor.  Rob found out the cost, so then we had to get some cash. ATM in a 5-star hotel? Of course, but  what a pity it was out of order! Still we found a bank across the road and loaded with wads of the ready, Rob made the bookings and got the precious tickets.

My key role in all of this was to help get some cash, and keep the girls happy. We  caught the bus back. As always, the bus was jammed full, but for a father carrying pretty girls and a grey-haired old man, seats were quickly offered to us both! Actually if you politely decline the offer, people get most agitated, so now we have learned to accept the kind offers.

When we got back to the Station we discovered a real circus in progress. AS usual our group (even without the 2 small girls) attracted a lot of curious onlookers.

 Apparently the station police had already told 2 crowds to move on, but when we got back there was still a mob there, with some of them playing cards with the boys!

Finally the mule-train got itself organized and we shouldered our way out of the station looking for the bus stop to take us to our digs.

This station had four major outlets labeled North, South, East and West. Each appeared to have its own set of buses. When Rob and I went out the first time, purely by chance  we stumbled upon the right exit and found the right bus waiting for us. This time, now that everyone was fully pack-laden, the station did not give up its secrets so easily! We trailed hither and thither, up and down stairs and escalators, in out and across the station until we gradually homed in on the pot of gold. As we were barging, shoving, jostling and elbowing our way along, sometimes with the flow. often fighting against or across it, I remarked to Jaala that the whole station was like a human ant’s nest: endless lines of thousands of scurrying insects, all intent on their own business and not to be impeded by anything or any one

The final test of our resourcefulness came as we boarded the bus. It was already full to capacity but based on past experience Rob stated confidently that we would all get on.!0 people, each with a large pack on back and some wit6h smaller one at front, baby in arms, folded up pushchair, plastic bags of extras, one very heavy wheeled suitcase and a heavy pack filled with Robs electronics, on a wheeled carrier frame. That would have been challenge enough, but we had to fight off the mob who were also intent on boarding! There were two rugged guys with huge cloth sacks on their backs, who newer determined to get on. The leader had shoved us out of the way and had got on before us(even though he arrived well after us, but we were determined not to let the second guy split up our group The kids were on and we were going to get on too! So Rach had the pushchair in front of his legs, I had my elbow dug into hiss chest and I think Rob had his bum in his face. The guy was frantic-but we were frantic-er, and we won, As thee fellow screamed that he had to get on, the driver screamed back at him, and the doors hissed shut in his face, trapping my pack, incidentally, which I managed to wriggle free. Oh boy, was that bus loaded!  Nevertheless, seats were immediately offered to myself and Rob who was carrying ER!

So we have arrived in a most interesting Hostel, but more of that later.

This city of Xi’an goes back a long way in history. In the days of bows, arrows, spears, horses and chariots and marauding hordes, the best way to defend a city was to build a strong wall around it. Of course there were walls and real walls: some walls were easily breached and cities fell, but the walls of this city were built by a master strategist and a good engineer to boot. And so it is that today, that original wall still stands.

This is no ordinary wall. Rectangular in shape, its total length is around 14km.  The original walls were constructed of rammed earth, and the height and width almost defy the imagination: about 12m high, 18m at the base and   14m across at the top. The quantity of earth (clay) needed to do this job (by hand!) is staggering. Here’one of the gates:

If you want the real facts on the wall I suggest that you go here for Rach’s details.

 and up the steps……..

If it sounds like I am trying to impress you – you are right, for today we all walked the wall. I know it’s not the Boston Marathon or even The Great Lake Challenge, but it was still a good day’s work, especially for the youngsters, and for those parents whose lot it was, to help the smaller ones through the day.

Total time taken was 5 1/4 hours and this included a lunch stop, snack stops and frequent pauses and deviations to look through the battlements at the changing scene below us.

This was a great time for everyone to do their own thing. We had space to burn, almost no traffic  – just the occasional bike or tandem and a few pedestrians – none off whom were set on a 14km hike. So the kids could run, jump, dawdle, gawk, walk together, walk alone, walk with an adult, run races against each other or just against the clock. We had plenty of time an space to do all these things and how we enjoyed it! The kids played in harmony, applied themselves to the challenge, grizzled not at all and so we all thoroughly enjoyed the day.

We started off under an overcast sky, with our fleece jackets on. Once the sun came up and burned through the mist, it was hot! Time to dig out the hat and take off the jacket. unfortunately the hat, which I have lugged faithfully in my back-pack all this time, today was missing. When we got back, there it was sitting on the bed, right where I had left it. Needless to say, I got fried. Having just had a hair cut, the meager thatch which might have protected the noggin had been decimated, so there was nil protection. Rach did gallantly offer her shawl to me to wrap around the head, but vanity overcame common sense, and I declined the offer. Today I regret it!

So a day to remember. Interesting, in spite of 14km of the same ‘road’. Lots to see, not the least of which was the kid’s activities. And lots of good time together. Thank you Lord!

the problem with this blogging business is that it tends to catch up on you – just take your mind off it and days have passed and before you know it, you have one of your daughters breathing down your neck, carping impatiently about the dearth of information.

Now what is more important or interesting? The bewildering traffic culture here, or a visit to the Terracotta Warriors? Or the walk to the playground yesterday to let the children let off steam\ ? (which proved to be a marathon walk with a fizzer of a playground)

I’m sure you like pictures so lets start off with a few from today’s visit to the buried warriors. Fascinating stuff:

some of the warriors looked almost human,,,,,

and there  as a small army on the move….

We were going to take buses out to the Warriors (an hour’s journey) but after bussing to the railway station to pick up the main bus, we  reached agreement with a guy to take us out there in a small coach. It turned out to be a good decision because the trip was quick, comfortable and very convenient. We collected an additional  member to our party as well: a girl from London just starting a year-long OE who has just travelled the route we will be taking in a weeks time. So RnR had a good opportunity to quiz her on a few travel details.

They bill this Terracotta warriors site as the eighth wonder of the world, and when you contemplate the sheer scope of the project, and the artistry involved, the claim has much in its favour. Apparently 720,000 people (slaves?) worked on the project for 40 years. In the meantime, the same Emperor had a small group building the Great Wall of China. There would not have been too many unemployed during his reign!

I should mention that apart from doing the tourist thing, we have been eating – in most un-touristy spots! We have had filled buns from a window in the wall; super-omelets wraps from another such window, dumplings and steamed pow from an assortment of scruffy looking dives, and marvelous fried noodles cooked in a giant wok over a roaring 40 gal drum, and eaten in a back-ally along with the local construction gang.! We have found a good place for dinner which is squeezed between a respectable cafe and a super=dooper restaurant. Ours is most uninviting from the outside, and not much better in – but the food is excellent. Tonight it was a bit full in the front seats so we had to squeeze past the chef and helpers to a few more tables crammed into a tiny back room.

But this Chinese traffic is unlike anything I have seen before.  Oh I am used to KL’s frantic multi-lane chaos, and Bangkok’s wild masses of cars, buses, Tuk-tuks , people and scooters, but China is something else again. Let me try and describe it: in this city of Xi’an there  are apparently 6 million people. The size geographically appears to be less than Auckland. The roads are good quality and come in a variety of widths and configurations. Main roads appear to have 2 or 3 lanes for each direction, with a sort of fence down the middle. Other roads are quite narrow, but often have an additional wide lane on either side, separated from the road by the footpath. One assumes these lanes are for scooters and bikes. Sounds good so far? In addition, at major, traffic-light-controlled intersections there will be two immaculate policemen (or women) with whistles, to assist direct the traffic. Plus quite often, guys with flags at the edges of pedestrian crossings. All of which, one might suppose, would lead to a smooth well-ordered traffic flow. There is only one snag – nobody drives with the slightest regard for any of the above. Admitted, larger vehicles stop for red lights, but everything else just weaves around them. Lights change, whistles shrill, arms wave and the traffic moves on regardless. Now thrown into this mix are a couple of other factors. Officially vehicles drive on the right hand side of the road; but there are seldom centre road markings, and everything uses as much of the road as is convenient.  until they meet something coming at them; scooters and bikes ride on any side and in the middle, in any direction at any time. Finally, many of the cars, scooters and yes bikes, are electric powered so they speed silently along the the streets like phantom destroyers. Woe to you to rely on sound for warning of something coming up behind you! Pedestrian crossings are used by pedestrians but ALL traffic just weaves its way through them. Why the streets are not littered with bodies I cannot fathom. Finally nobody keeps to a lane so the traffic is like a series of serpents  entwined, writhing in deadly combat as each vehicle tries to find the quickest flowing piece of action. And to be in a car that is cutting across 5 lanes of traffic in the space of about 200 meters is quite an experience.

But enough of that. This place is a most ancient walled city – and these walls are really walls! They must be around 10-15 m high and wide enough at the top to ride 6 abreast. We have walked around a few KM of the base and intend to take a look up top in the near future

………….back on a train today, Going from Shanghai to Xi’an.  In my recent posts I have waxed enthusiastic about Chinese trains and their rail systems. I have to modify that view a bit because we have been downgraded to an old model for this journey (starting at midday and arriving at 9.0 am tomorrow.) On the one hand it saves us accommodation for a night; on the other hand I know we are not going to get much sleep on this rinkle-chunkle old rattletrap. We thought we lacked a little privacy on the last sleeper: this one is totally open.

 Still 3-tier bunks facing each other, but of a special design devoid of any discreet paneling to afford some privacy. In fact I have renamed this train Stalag III because it is overseen by Frau Goebells –or the Chinese equivalent. She is our coach manager (I assume) and rules with a humourless rod of bamboo. She doesn’t like us opening the window, she doesn’t let us leave a lollipop on a plate for future consumption; she drags a filthy mop up the corridor and swishes it into our cubicle, scattering feet and boots willy nilly without a word, a smile or even a friendly snarl. The sleeper bunks are of the exposed variety so that Frau Goebells can see what we are up to at all times. We had a rubbish bin for our wrappers etc for the first part of the journey. She has wordlessly confiscated this, presumably to have the contents checked by headquarters before we disembark.

The train has a special way of stopping and we have worked out that they have a large bucket of rocks at the end of each carriage, which they toss under the wheels when ‘stabling’ is required.  (The toilets doors warn that ‘no occupying while stabling is allowed’)  In addition the hydraulic buffers between carriages have been, well, dispensed with so stopping entails violent grumblings followed by by violent bone jarring jerks. You know when you have stopped and are eternally thankful that you are still in one piece.

I’m writing about the process rather than the journey because frankly, the scenery,, what we could see of it through the thick hazy smog, has been forgettable.

As before, endless vistas of fields intermixed with crumbling dwellings, brickworks, huge motorway roads and flyovers, massive factory buildings, hundreds of identical high-rise apartment blocks, paddy fields, ponds of various sizes and stages of stagnation, and all covered in this weird thick haze which restricts visibility to about 1/2km maximum. The haze has got me bluffed. It smells like smog, it stings the eyes and tickles the throat – but smog for 100’s  of kilometers?

A final comment on our guard. My posting was brought to an abrupt end at this point last night when, without warning, all the lights were turned off! That was at 9.45pm!

Anyway, back to the people. The taxi driver who took  us to the station this morning could not have been more friendly. We had ordered two  taxis (why would you need more? there are only 11 of us with 13  backpacks and a large suitcase plus a stroller !) to be taken to the rail station this morning. Rob’s driver, however was distinctly ratty. Probably because  we had ordered the taxis for 12.30 and were running 5 mins late. Plus probably the fact that it takes about 10 mins to get everybody and their packs etc, squeezed into the taxi! However since the total taxi fare was only 21 Yuan and Rob gave him a 10Y tip he was finally happy as well’.

Our arrival in the city of X’i’an  caused the biggest stir yet. It is starting to get to me a little, this open curiosity as if we each had 3 legs and green beards or something. We were supposed to be met at the station by the Hostel people so of course we stood around outside the station looking hopeful. No sign of the pickup. So Rob digs out his laptop and looks up the phone number of the hostel and proceeds to ring them on his cellphone. The crowd that gathered during this 10 min exercise was unbelievable – at least 60 or so people crowding shoulder to shoulder peering over Robs shoulder to see what he was looking at on the laptop and relaying the information to the crowd.

as usual, as soon as I point the camera, they all pretend to be  doing something else! Its the sort of behavior you read about when Capt Cook first landed in the Tahiti, but it is not as if we are the first white people to have visited China. We can only put it down to the size of the family, which is verboten in China of course. I tried just looking directly into the eyes of the audience but they were immoveable. That is, until I got my camera out and started photographing them. Suddenly they find an interest in other things!

However the ordeal ended when Rob was asked by the hostel folk to catch 2 taxis because their van was elsewhere – fares to be refunded. The hostel is really excellent and is located right next to the ancient Walled City which is one of the things we came here to see,

We have been out for a stroll and ‘grazed’ (for lunch) on what looks like semi-glazed sweet pizza bases, buns filled with a variety of pickled veggies, chilly beans and other unknown ingredients, the steamed ‘pow’ both pork and beef filled, and exotic omelet/pancakes containing eggs, veggies, crispy pastry pieces etc.

 That lot from 4 different little shops cost us a total of around 29 Yuan  – about $NZ7. To feed 11 of us. Of course if we chose to go into a restaurant the cost would be a very different story!

Now we are back at base, having a rest before investigating a bit more.

It’s a funny thing, but I had a mental picture of Shanghai – probably formed by adventure books read well over half a century ago. “Shanghai” conjured up for me the very essence of the Mysterious Orient:of shadowy Chinese pagodas, Opium dens, sinister slit-eyed villains with large curved knives, and dark alleys with scurrying rats.

But looking at our fellow passengers on the train, my dreams were already crumbling. Here was the usual ordinary mix of mums,dads, business men, grandpas and nannas. Not a rogue in sight. and all bound for Shanghai for as the notice said, ‘no stops between Hong Kong and Shanghai’ Not a curved blade to be spotted. Not even a tattoo, opium pipe or a sinister rogue to be seen. In fact the most sinister looking character I saw on the train was Rob, who had not shaved for some considerable time and had that grimy look of the long-distance traveler.

Yes, non-stop to Shanghai, a distance, by the GPS of just a whisker under 2,000 kms and on an electrified line the whole way. Average speed for the journey was something around 100 kmph, and that included two long unexplained stops

The beds on the train turned out to be comfortable, if a mite narrow. We all managed a sleep of some sort.. but we were all a bit bleary  eyed in the the morning.

The scenery that  we saw during the daylight hours was strange to the Kiwi eye. Where we are used to seeing endless acres of green  paddocks and rolling hills dotted with sheep or cattle, and just  the occasional remote farmhouse, here, for mile upon mile upon mile we saw endless acres of  small paddy  fields or vegetable gardens.

And everywhere were dwellings. From crumbling single level hovels to 6-8 story apartments to palatial houses, often over a hundred all identical.

There seems to be no transition between farming, residential and commercial areas – all  are jumbled together in what can only be described as a huge shambles. Imagine a brickworks surrounded by market gardens broken up  by residential areas, and you will have some idea. Oh, and the ponds and rivers that permeate all areas. I guess the ponds are used to irrigate both paddy and veggie plots, but the ponds back right up to the backs of houses, giving the whole area a dank and mosquito-ridden appearance. And these scenes are repeated seemingly endlessly. There seemed to be little evidence of mechanization on the agricultural side. Many people digging away with the trusty chungkles but not too many tractors.  And this is strange because this country is just booming with development.  New roading, massive fly-overs, new rail tracks, new buildings both commercial and domestic. Everywhere huge projects under way, and yet the rural scene seemed strangely primitive. A country of contrasts alright.

Shanghai railway station is huge, and set up rather like an airport terminal. The trains that arrive from Hong Kong are handled like an incoming flight and all passengers are  subject to customs and passport checks.

 a fairly lengthy business, but handled with speedy efficiency. Chinese Officialdom loves to throw its weight around, but as long as you do as you are told, they are very polite.

We decided to get tickets for the next two  stages of our journey, while we were at the station, and this opened my eyes to some more of the China Way. Rob and I found our way to the ticketing hall. A hall with at least 50 ticket booths, each with a never-ending queue of noisy bustling impatient customers. Bedlam reigned supreme, but one booth had the magic words “English speaking counter” to which we headed.

I understand that before the Beijing Olympics they  ran special training courses for the Chinese hosts, to teach them how to smile and  be warmly welcoming. These ticket booth operators definitely could use that course. Not a flicker of a smile. Not a hint of welcoming you as a paying customer. Not a suggestion of a ‘gooday mate, how’s your day goin?’ No it was a grim humour-less lot behind those glass walls. Sad to see.

Even more interesting was the sight when we returned to Rach and the kids who had been waiting patiently while we went in search of tickets and money with which to purchase same. There they were, surrounded by a group of about 15 men. I assumed these were touts looking for business, so when I reached Rach I asked her if she had struck up a deal with any of them. ‘No I’ve just been as sociable as I can she replied. Then I learned, these were not touts but just people that wanted a close look at this European family. We have caused a bit of a stir quite often in the past, but this open silent inspection, shoulder to shoulder was bizarre. I was so taken by it, I decided to take a photo of them all. You should have seen them melt away when I pointed a camera at them!

Well we have arrived safely. We are in a delightful hostel with all mod con, at a fraction of Hong Kong prices and eating all sorts of delicacies at the very best of prices! All is well with the world!