fillingthegaps

We have been in Berlin now for nearly 2 weeks. Enough time you would say, to see all the significant spots at a comfortable pace. Unfortunately it has not been the case due to the ongoing saga of purchasing 2 motor homes (plus getting a replacement Bank card as a side-issue) We have dealt with (and finally overcome) Germany’s bureaucracy to become officially Registered, thus enabling subsequent steps of Insuring the vehicles, then getting vehicle registration (after confirming with certificates that they have the necessary TUF (warrant of fitness) and then Number-plates for the two vehicles. In NZ this would be an afternoon’s work at the Post Office. Here it has taken over a week with a lot of blood, sweat and tears (well, almost). We had great help from some of the guys at the couch-surfing place where we were staying. The lady we were purchasing one vehicle from met us at the German AA office, but their combined efforts ended with them saying that it looked impossible to do! The AA tried to be helpful but just did not have the experience that we needed to solve the issues.

So here we are, proud possessors of one vehicle

and with the other one due to be ready at the end of the week, the delay being due to work necessary (at the Dealer’s expense) to get the ‘TUF’ certificate.

However we have squeezed in a fair bit of sight-seeing in between all the tripping to and fro’ and we have become seasoned users of the Berlin U-bahn,(metro) S-bahn (rail) systems, trams and Shanks’s ponies. We have walked the streets, played and pic-nicked in their parks,

and more recently driven a motor-home through the heart of the city and successfully navigated to an obscure camping supplies shop to buy a ‘Porter-potty’ for the other van. (for this last feat all credit goes to Rob for his driving skills and his trusty GPS)

I managed a walk down to The Brandenburg Gate

and the Parliament buildings

just yesterday, and in addition to the historic places there were a lot of interesting other sights, such as the full size puppet manhandled by about 6 people.

Plus an interesting assortment of pedal=powered machines.

……and today we got to see Checkpoint Charlie and Potsdamer Platz – both of which I have to say, were pretty much non-events. Important in the history of Berlin no doubt, but visually very ordinary. Far more impressive was Berlin’s central railway station – a marvelous suspended glass structure.

We ran out of booking space at the first couch-surfing place, so we had to move last night to a new couch-surfing host. Here some of us are very comfortable. I say some of us because they have managed to find space for 3 of us, the rest having to sleep in the van. Of course the van is comfortable enough but is not in a Camping ground – it is parked in front of a row of shops about 1/2 km from the apartment. We are not sure how legal this is, but we are keeping a low profile!

The whole tribe comes over to the apartment to eat breakfast and dinner at night and to get washed up etc. It is not the most convenient, but it is a real God-send until we get the second  van and head off into the wide blue yonder to be completely independent. Then things will really be looking up!

And to add to the satisfaction of the day, I have just learned that my new Bank card has arrived at the first address we had in Berlin, so tomorrow I will be off to pick that up, and start to get solvent once more!

We are being hosted by 3 young ladies: a Social Science student, a nurse and a Receptionist. They have (by European standards) a really large apartment with probably 5 large rooms, a small kitchen and 2 toilets (one of which has a shower/bath) The 3 of us are in one bedroom, all to ourselves, which is something of a luxury and we are very comfortable.

On the down side, many of us are plagued by a wretched cough and some have heavy colds, so we are not at our sparkling best – but the sun is shining, the days are getting longer and warmer – summer is coming and we will soon be bouncing again.

We are really looking forward to this next stage in our wanderings.  Internet connections may not be so readily available but I’m sure we will stay in touch.

The train journey from Moscow to St P was sooo different.

We have become accustomed to travelling in ‘open sleepers’ where the kids can chase up and down corridors, we can spread ourselves on the bunks for a game of cards, and where the passing passengers stop and peer in to our cabins to see what we are doing, eating or reading. But not on this elegant and very  expensive train – travelling from Moscow to St Petersburg! Travel now is much more onerous. Decorum abounds. We are all are seated quietly in our plush recliner seats. But no hot water boiler at the end of the corridor for making a cuppa, No free packets of tea/coffee/ no privacy to make a meal no all gawking together out of windows.  More like a doctors waiting room. ‘Respectable’ it was and jolly uncomfortable to boot.

We arrived 11 pm. St.P was still buzzing. The City was bustling – and very cold! Judicious use of notes , the GPS and enquiries gets us to a bus stop. We sort out fares with conductor (always a mission with 11 of us and all different ages!) and tget off at the GPS-dictated stop We soon found our hostel and wearily trudged up  3 flights of broken stairs to our dorm

Next morning a quick trip to the local ‘supermarket’ for b’fast supplies revealed a taste of the elegance this city possesses. Grand old buildings, no broken paving, everything clean and tidy – and a tangibley relaxed and cultured atmosphere. So different from Moscow.

The transition is almost complete : East says goodbye to West

So started a long day. Lots of walking and quite a bit of Underground training.

We took in a castle and a few cathedrals etc.

decide just as easy to walk back –past Hermitage Angel eetc

finally arrived back after 8-10 k walk. A good day!

We were only going to be here for 2 nights and we did not expect to see too much of the Russian Capital. How wrong can you be?  We arrived at about 3.30pm – skies were overcast, the temperature was struggling to get above zero and the wind wasa blowing strongly. It was freezing! Fortunately we were met by a delightful couple with their 3 children and – most importantly- a van!

Our packs were quickly stowed into the van, and I would like to say  that we were whisked away to their apartment. But ‘twas not to be – first we had to purchase rail tickets for our next leg to St Petersburg. This turned out to be incredibly difficult and frustrating. I haven’t the time or patience to tell you all about it: suffice to say that the procedure took over an hour; they would only sell 8 tickets from one booth, they got all our passports tangled up and we ended up paying full fare for everyone and at least 4 times as much as we had budgeted for. After that the van drove off with our stuff, and we went for our first trip on the Moscow Metro. The most elaborate Underground system ever! You felt like you were raiding somebody’s Crypt. Efficient, decorative and very noisy.

After 40 mins or so we emerged above ground to be greeted with light horizontal snow. It was still cold! And walked to the apartment – the usual ugly soviet concrete block with crumbling exterior and dungeon-like interior. But the apartment itself, though tiny, was warm and inviting.We were quickly at home, and digging into large bowls of steaming soup!

We thought we would get an early night after spending the previous 4 on a train, but our hosts had other ideas and insisted on taking us to walk around Moscow’s Exhibition Centre. We got there about 8.pm and did not get home until late. needless to say we froze ourselves stiff!

After a hearty breakfast the next morning we thought we could take a quick look at Red Square and  get the kids home for a nap. But no… We got to the Square around midday then started a long trek to see the Kremlin,

Ivan the Terrible’s castle,

Red sq the changing of the guard,

a few cathedrals, the State Department store

 and a mall where we found some food. Then on again for a walk alongside the river and a look for more cathedrals. We walked ourselves to a standstill. Then another trip on the Metro to get home

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. 

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!

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!

well I am on the train,  (actually WE are) rocking gently and silently along at (according toRobs GPS) a steady 125kmph. It would need to be reasonably comfortable because this is going to be a 20hr trip, from Hong Kong to Shanghai. The train is incredibly smooth, but maybe that is just because I have been conditioned to NZ’s rail systems – the last epic journey I took from Auckland to Wellington, we did much of the trip at 20kmph because, the Conductor informed us, the rails were buckled due to the heat – and that was on a mild spring day! Even at that speed the train rocked and rolled a bit like the ride I recently had at Disneyland. So this is proving to be a silky ride.

Accommodation does not get quite the same level of accolades, however. The carriage is divided up into cubicles, each with 2 sets of 3-high bunks facing each other. The bunks are designed for the average-sized local inhabitant, which means that Rob will have to fold himself up like a carpenters ruler to fit into its length. Unfortunately the width is proportionately narrow too – so he is in for an uncomfortable night!  There  are no curtains over the bunks, and no curtain over the corridor entrance to the cubicle, so all is open to public scrutiny. I shall not be changing into my Shorty jamas tonight!

The corridor is carpeted and has little fold-down seats hinged to the side of the carriage. These are necessary because the bunks are permanently made up, so if you want to claim your seat during the daytime, you have to recline on your bunk. As a fair degree of athleticism is required to get into the top two levels, the corridor  seats are in great demand. We have staked out our claims!

Our last  morning in Hong Kong was most enjoyable. It was a bright warm sunny day and there were two tasks to be done. One was to pick up our passports (with Russian visas) from the Ruskie embassy over on thee Island, and the other was to take the older kids over to the tallest building to see if we could get to the top and have a look-see. Rach drew the short straw and took ER with her to do the passports. I got the long straw and had the pleasure of taking the 4 older kids across the harbour to do the tall building thing. To add to the fun, we all walked together to the ferry terminal, then Rach took one ferry and we took another. The race was on! Who would get to return to base first? We both had to cross the harbour. We both had to walk to a tall building; we both had to go a long way up in the building, do our business and then return. At the start we were clearly ahead.

                        Thats Rach with ER  at the far left hand side Our ferries left at the same time and as we waved to our rivals across the briny we could see that we were going to dock well before them. Our trip up the tall building was delayed a bit as we were directed to register at the lobby. After going down to the basement car park we eventually arrived at the lobby where the kids presented their student travel ID’s to be scanned, and I solemnly presented my ARC Senior Citizens Travel pass. All were dutifully scanned and full authorized Visitor ID’s were issued and hung around our necks.

We were ushered to the lifts by security personnel and were not allowed out of their sight. The lift whisked us up to the 55th floor in precisely 40 secs. J timed it for us of course. It was fascinating visit. The 55th floor was only just over half way up but the view was still breathtaking.

And the viewing lounge was actually sponsored by the HK Treasury, so it was actually an information display

 on how  their banknotes were produced. (an interesting fact is that 3 different banks are authorized to print money for HK – and they are all different!) So a thorough look at everything took a bit of time. Then we remembered the race! So off we flew, back down the lift, hand in our passes and race back to the ferry terminal.

 Catch the ferry and race back to the digs. Up the lift and – rats! Mum was standing there. She had beaten us by 5 mins. OK she beat us, but I bet we had the most fun.