fillingthegaps

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!

today was going to be a restful day: an easy start followed by a good afternoon rest in preparation for a visit to the night market with the main objective of tracking down a couple of ‘’dragon’ shirts for the two older boys.

Well all objectives were achieved and so we could say it was a successful day, but the truth is, by the time we all got back to the hostel, we were all tired, nerves were frayed, tempers were short and bed seemed to be the best place for everyone to be! Now why would that be? (a short interruption to my thoughts here as Tgirl4 advises me that ‘going downstairs to the toilet with no pants on is totally cold’. I suggest to her that it might be a good idea to put some pants on before wandering around the hostel)

AS I said the day started well. We went for a walk, intending rather casually to see if we could find a barber – some of the herd were well past their shearing time. We checked out a few. Prices seemed to start at a base of Y20 with add-on’s in Y20 steps. Cheap enough by NZ standards (Y20 = $NZ5 approx) but when there is a mob of you there is always the need to find the best deal. Besides, your thinking changes as you get accustomed to values in the new currency and so you look for ‘best price’ regardless of NZ equivalents. And so it was that we came upon a splendid hairdresser’s manned by about 4 young men each adorned with the latest in Asian men’s hairstyles. Difficult to describe – long softly-flowing spiky tresses coyly covering sensitive almost feminine features, and one with artful touches of blond and pink streaks through. Hah! I thought, just the place to get my hair cut–NOT. But the price was Y10 – and that included a hair wash. So in we went. First the two young boys and Rob.

While they were being attended to, I went with the older kids for a walk around the block. By the time we got back, the team was ready to take the next batch.

These hairdressers were of unknown origin – they were Asian but did not speak the local dialect so even local customers were using sign language to communicate. But they had a stack of styling books and so every one was able to pick out a style they liked and leave them to it. In the end, the process of hair wash/cut/hair wash looked so relaxing (and cheap) that I decided to get a chop for myself. Very pleasant.

After that Mama took the littlies back for a rest as planned and the rest of us did a bit of shopping and then we returned to base.

So far all had gone according to plan! Now we all set off to walk to the Muslim Quarter which housed the Night Market, via the Drum Tower and the Bell Tower, two iconic landmarks which we we thought we could take in, en route. But as we are finding out more and more – ALL attractions in China attract a significant entry fee. So once again we contented ourselves with the outside view of things.

And so on to the Muslim Q and the Night market. Actually we got there before the night, and things were relatively quiet at the start. Rach and the boys trawled up and down the  narrow aisles, which by the minute thickened up with traffic, looking for Dragon shirts of a) the right size, b) the right colour and c) the right price. You need to know that the search  for Dragon shirts has been going on for about a month-obviously without success. The odds of being successful this evening were not good, but they were intent on tracking something down.

I think this is where the day started to unravel. It had been under stress during our walk: walking through crowded noisy streets to look at uninteresting things is not every young boys idea of fun, especially when bursting with suppressed energy, so they frequently found themselves racing beyond the parental bounds of control. This had to  be dealt with, for the boys safety and our sanity and resulted in some grumpy uncooperative children. And then the search began………….

Crowded Night Markets with intersecting alleys, peopled by crowds, bicycles, scooters, tricycle goods carriers, the occasional mini-van and even an arrogant Mercedes or two, makes for a hazardous environment, and a place easy to lose kids, not to mention adults!

As we trawled up and down, doubling back occasionally with some going one way and some another, things became to me at least, very confusing. Who was where and what they were doing became unknown. Communication was difficult due to to the incredible racket of hawkers hawking, stall holders trying to persuade you, vehicles tooting, bicycles dinging and everybody shouting to be heard above the noise. Bedlam is a reasonable description of the scene.

Add to the mix some tired, bored & frustrated children, and the tension rises.

Jboy13 was the first to get lucky, and Kboy11 grew despondent his size just did not seem to be around. So we broke off for some dinner in the food section.

That raised flagging spirits, to such an extent that the search was resumed. By this time the market was actually shutting down. Jgirl14 and I, having lost track of where anyone else was, discussed the merits of chopsticks with a pretty but desperate stall holder. She started off with a special very cheap price of Y660. As we were finally walking away she was desperately offering them at Y40.  But we were unmoved.

Finally a grinning Kboy11 and Mama appeared, having followed a guy to another place (who knows where?) who had actually produced THE goods – right size,design, colour AND price! We should have returned home rejoicing but the fact was too many of the kids had crossed the threshold and were too tired to care.

But what wonders a good night’s sleep can do! The happy purchasers proudly modeled their purchases for me this morning

and a bit later we  on a marathon walk: 15.8 km around the top of the Great Wall which surrounds this city, And not a word of complaint from anyone. These kids are fantastic – but more of that on the next blog.

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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.

well this was a fairly quiet day in the life of these vagabonds, and I thought it might interest a few of you to get my perspective on it.

Day starts about 7.30 – 8.00am, with sleepy bodies assembling in the largest room for breakfast. Often this is bread (no toasters where we stay!) with a variety of spreads such as vegemite (what will we do when our supplies run out?), lemon curd, honey, or peanut butter. This morning we had a change, with porridge and coconut yoghurt – very tasty.

After breakfast Rob leads the family in a morning devotional time. They have a folder full of memory verses, hymns and choruses. This morning the kids went through about 10 memory verses, sang afew hymns (Veta would have been so pl;eased!) and a few choruses, after which Rob reviewed the story of the Jews wanderings in the desert

Then a rough plan for the day is set out: today needs to be easy going because the younger ones are in need of a battery recharge. We had thought of going to the museum because Shanghai is reputed to have beauty, but we have done 2 museum-type things in the last few days, so reluctantly that idea is dropped and we settle for a walk down to the ‘Bund’ – the river-bank walk which apparently is not to be missed. We only have one full day here, so this will be IT for Shanghai.

Getting out of the guest house is delayed, because the clerks all want to stop us and admire the fair-haired kids. Picture of clerk with kids. Picture of clerk’s assistant with kids, then just as we are escaping, another gentleman turns up and decides he doesn’t  want to miss out, so picture of HIM with the kids! To their credit, the kids have learned to accept this carry-on quite philosophically – even Ella-Rose. So out of the door at last. On the other side of the road a vendor is  selling bamboo shoots: he has them neatly spread out on a sheet of newspaper on the edge of the road. He peels off the outer husks and gives them to a waiting customer

So we set out for the Bund- reputed ly about 1 1/2 km to get there and 1 1/2km long – a mere stroll for this lot. But a hazardous stroll. The traffic in this city is suicidal. There are pedestrian crossings and traffic lights just as you would expect to find in any well developed  city. The difference here is that everybody ignores them, and every body is in one heck of a hurry

(note the green cross now light!)

We admire the flower planters ingeniously incorporated into the bicycle racks, and observe the washing drying in the trees on the roadside (this is in the middle of the city, remember)

Yesterday we walked past a series  of very impressive music shops and we were serenaded by a jazz tenor sax player, then someone on a flute, an impressive recital by someone playing a sort of horizontal harp, and of course some piano. All in different shops.Finally up the steps

and onto the Bund itself: the wide river on one side, with an impressive display of futuristic buildings on the far bank, and on this side an equally impressive assortment of buildings both ancient and modern:

It was not long before (as usual)  someone found our group more interesting than the scenery, and the inevitable crowd gathers and the photo shoot takes place:

The river here is of course right at the sea and so large cruse liners are moored  a bit further down the Bund.  A floating restaurant cruises by reminding jus that we are hungry, and it’s time for lunch.

 So we head back towards our hostel and a little shop that sells delicious dumplings. We  go in and order umpteen steamer-trays of them, find they vanish quickly and order another round, But dumplings are not enough, so  now we head for an even smaller stall where we have discovered delicious steamed buns. We buy about 20 – 10 with pork and 10 with mixed veggies inside.

We head off to a nearby park and demolish the buns.  Some of the boys end up in animated conversation with some nearby ladies, then most of us (not me) try out the exercise equipment provided for ADULT use. (a fairly common sight in these parts)

So having eaten, all finish the walk to ‘home’, the littlies for a rest and me for a Tutorial from Rach on blogging etc. So a restful time until we head out for dinner tonight. Plates of fried rice and more plates of fried veggies. Very tasty!

ps you may have noticed the hazy look to the pics. This is smog which just hangs around permanently, it seems. Time to head for the open road!

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.

I have been away with this bunch for just over a week now, and during most of that time the skies have been overcast, with rain threatening but never quite making it. Today, no matter what, we had decided to go across to The Island (Hong Kong) for a another, longer look. We will be back on Mon. day, but only quite briefly (we hope) to pick up our passports with the Russian Visa stamps. We thought the Island deserved more than another brief look.

So this morning we sallied forth, and lo and behold, the day dawned bright and clear. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the air refreshingly invigorating. We had a plan to visit The Peak – to bus to the top and walk back down. The Peak is the the top of Mt Victoria – one of the highest spots on the island. Originally developed as a ‘hill resort’ for the expat tea merchants and the Island’s Governor it is now dotted with incredible high-rise hotels, very up market residential blocks, very flash houses and at the top, the inevitable super shopping mall. 

But it is not all buildings and from the top there is a very good walk that does a circular route around the top of the mount, giving you a 360 view of Hong Kong island. The walk takes you through a lot of HK’s natural flora, and very cool and refreshing it was.

Every so often long breaks in the foliage would allow some terrific views of the Island.

From up there you can see how they cram 6m people into this relatively small piece of land.

I said it was cool and refreshing: actually as we sat in the shade with the keen breeze whistling through our legs, it was distinctly cold, and we were all pleased to be up again and off on our walk.

We took the bus to the top: a great ride in a huge double-Decker that twisted and turned up the narrow winding road, brushing trees and shrubbery all the way up and giving us fantastic glimpses of the Island as we climbed. Getting on the bus was interesting: you need to have the exact fare to tender. Working out the total cost for this tribe is a real exercise: ‘these small ones, they go free; this one adult; this old man, half fare;’  etc etc. As Rob discussed the fare make-up with some sort of official, the guy finally said (in desperation I imagine) ‘ok $60 for all’ – which sounded fine to us as the basic fare was $9.50 each!

We thought of rewarding ourselves with an ice-cream after our walk around the peak, but a quick check on prices soon quenched that idea. I think Rob worked it out that it would cost NZ$180 for our group. Since we only spend about half that amount in Hong Kong $$s for our dinner (and we think that is expensive)  we opted for a McDonalds Ice-cream after getting back down the mount. Everybody was content with the deal and off we walked. Walked down some steep and twisty walkways – fortunately all nicely sealed, but a strenuous descent, nonetheless. I have to confess that we did not walk the whole way back to the ferry but managed to catch a bus once we hit a main road. Once again the exact fare thing posed a problem, but after scratching up about $23 between us Rob hopefully offered  it to the driver. Seeing our mob, and veering away from the mental arithmetic involved, the driver just took our handful of coins and waved us all aboard!

And so we earned our ice-cream, caught the ferry back over to Kowloon

and made it back to our noodle shop for dinner.

A long but very enjoyable day.

Some of you ask, how on earth do the little ones cope with such a big day. The quick answer is they don’t. Periodically one of the younger ones has a melt-down and loses the plot, but the fact is, they recover pretty quickly and continue to enjoy the day. In spite of the occasional hissy fit, everyone at the end of the day would say it was a day to remember.

In the eyes of RnR’s kids, THE highlight of this trip into the relatively unknown, was to be the visit to Disneyland in Hong Kong. For this reason they saved their pennies in NZ, agreed to forgo many treats, worked to raise money and generally had a concerted effort over many months, to be able to afford to do this thing. Well yesterday THE day arrived. (how did I forget this when I arranged to meet up with them in Hong Kong?)

If you were to ask me what are the top 100 things I would like to do before I die, Disneyland would not even get in the fine print – but  here was I joining this crazy bunch to spend a day there. Had I been a quick thinker, I could have found some earnest reason for not going, like visiting a museum or experimenting (all day) with wi-fi at Starbucks, but quick thinking is not one of my attributes, so here was I all set to have a whizzer of a day.

It started well with another impressive display of HK’s rail services. We had to catch 3 different trains and travel quite a fair distance – not an enviable task with 8 children. In Auckland, such a prospect would conjure pictures of a day of frustration, time wasted and generally something to put into the too-hard basket. Here (coping with foreign language, currency, and new systems), it went like a breeze. The first station was a 10 min walk away, we waited 2 mins for the train, having just missed  the previous one. The change in train stations was easy, as we tracked the train’s progress on the visual display on the side panels. Walk to the other side of the platform, wait maybe 3 mins and along comes our next train. Get off at the clearly indicated station and wait another 2 mins for the Disney express to arrive – taking us into the heart of Disneyland. Oh and did I mention these trains run as smooth as silk, and the acceleration is such that it makes your ears pop!

I entered this fantasyland fairly convinced that I would not be party to the fun and games: being thrown violently around until you feel like throwing up is not my idea of fun. However one thing led to another until the grandchildren proudly informed me that I had been on everything they had been on. What was not stressed was that they had been on most things about 5 times while I had endured the single shot. Also not mentioned was the fact that they were in VERY much better shape than me.

In fact the only thing that kept me going was a quick cup of coffee while they were off on their 5th trip to the Moon. Never before have I experienced the rejuvenating effects of a shot of caffeine, but by golly, it did the trick.

Needless to say, the visit lived up to the eager anticipations of the kids. Some were seriously asking Dad about the fiscal advantages of purchasing an annual pass! Even ER2, as she is known, gradually warmed to the terrors of the unknown, and was a very keen patron of the Carousel and the Spinning Teacups.

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Every one survived until the very end when there was to be a firework display.We were in two minds as to whether this was worth waiting for, but in fact it turned out to be the most spectacular finale. Not quite the Beijing Olympics, but I think it would run a close second.

Yesterday we were on the go from 8.30am until 9.30pm (at McDonalds for “dinner”) and so today has been recovery day – with much journaling and hopefully restful pauses. As for me: well I can now say I have done Disneyland, and will never have to go again, and so it’s back to the quiet life.