China – three pairs of pants

7 January 201626 January 2018

Day 115 (Thu 7 Jan): Guangzhou to Hong Kong (harbour tour, light show)

Chinese people are far and away the best thing about China. With very few exceptions, they have been friendly, fun and kind. So, despite the language challenges, tourist circuses and lack of major tourist destinations in the south, I’ve enjoyed my time here. But it’s good to be moving on…

… to Hong Kong. Technically it’s part of China (a “special administrative region”), but has a border crossing, it’s own currency and they drive on the correct side of the road 😉 One person I spoke to described it well: it’s like China is the parent company and Hong Kong a subsidiary which is has its own management.

We’d taken the high-speed express train to Kowloon. Once again the train was fast, efficient and clean. And the toilet had the flush button in front of you so you didn’t have to turn round in the small cubicle. UX* people notice these little things, you know 😉

At the border, things were serious and official, but still fast and efficient. So why was it taking Rudy so long to get through? I peered over. He was laughing and chatting with immigration officer #facepalm. Eventually he emerged and we compared tickets (no stamps here anymore). I’d been given a six-month stay (UK), him only three (Belgium). “Yeah,” he explained, “she wants to see me again soon.” I couldn’t help but feel there may have been an element of truth in this 😉

It didn’t take long to start seeing the differences from mainland China, such as:

Throne toilets, with paper provided
No spitting on the street
No table bars to whack my knees on
People queue to get on the bus
Nearly everyone speaks English
Signs are in English and Chinese rather than Chinese and (maybe) English

But some things were the same:

Shops open out on to the street
Squat toilets were also available in public conveniences

And I felt oddly at home. Or maybe it’s not odd as Hong Kong was a British territory from the opium wars until 1997 and so much reminded me of London, little things like the escalators: stand on the right, walk on the left. And the high prices and tiny hotel rooms. And I mean tiny: two beds and a bathroom in 7sqm. But it was surprisingly functional – the shower was over the toilet, the beds butted up in an L-shape and plenty of under-bed storage.

Confectionery in the 7-11 also reminded me of home:

But then she short-changed me to remind me that I was, in fact, still a tourist 🙁

Spent a very pleasant hour touring the harbour (one of only three natural harbours in the world – can you name the other two?**):

With this guy spending the entire trip (really, the *entire* trip) making a video starring himself:

Hong Kong Convention Centre was designed to resemble a soaring bird, and hosted the Sino British handover in July 1997:

The Colosseum’s claim to fame stems from its construction method – the roof was built and the hoisted up before the non-load-bearing walls were added to create this striking inverted pyramid (image courtesy of Google as mine were rubbish):

This clock tower is the only thing left of the railway terminus of the line from Canton (as was, now Guangzhou), somewhat ironically the rest was demolished to make way for the cultural centre:

Also, a mini London Eye:

A beautiful sunset:

And a visit from some of the locals:

Rudy admitted the light show (“it’s amazing”) was a bit of a let down. But the general ambience and friendly vibe made it worthwhile.

Random stuff from today starts at breakfast when my noodle soup had a salted duck egg in it (remember those Laotian snacks from a few weeks ago?):

It was actually really good 🙂

David and Lucy: they were on our train and we got chatting at the border. They met online three years ago and struck up a friendship (he’s late fifties, she nineteen). I obviously didn’t pry (another western trait) but I got the impression he’d had a major life event (divorce?) and decided to teach in China. Came over in September, secured a position very, very quickly, had to return home and was now out a few weeks before the start of term to explore. Step in Lucy who came across as a shy, intelligent and kind lady. If you’re a native English speaker with reasonably good literacy, the world really is your oyster. I wish them both all the very best 🙂

Finally, a T-shirt slogan that makes sense:

Overall a very enjoyable introduction to Hong Kong 🙂

* UX = User eXperience = making things easy and satisfying to learn and use.

** San Francisco and Sydney (is this actually right? I mean they might not be big, but I’m sure there are more natural harbours than this..? Update: Wiki advises there are, in fact, lots of natural harbours in the world – I lost count)

6 January 201626 January 2018

Day 114 (Wed 6 Jan): Guangzhou (old city)

“So what brings you back to China?” I asked the Israeli who’d recently finished his PhD in Taiwan.”To find a girlfriend. But I’m not sure where to start.”

Ah, right. I admire your honesty. But can’t help you, I’m afraid.

So far in Guangzhou we’d seen the South Railway Station, Main Railway Station, East Railway Station, and the Long-Distance Bus Station. Rudy suggested adding the Ferry Terminal to our collection, but we decided instead to branch out and visit the old city:

Not much more to add, to be honest – people going about their lives. That in itself is worth noting though – we define nationalities, races and religions but the more I travel, the more I’m reminded that we’re all part of the human race.

A minor change of plan: we needed some admin time and, as Hong Kong is very expensive, we’ve decided to spend another night here and head to Hong Kong first thing tomorrow.

Random stuff from today:

Still lots of smoking here and with a packet costing from £1 to £2.50 it’s not surprising (although I guess it’s relative to earnings)
At dinner, these girls behind us were each glued to their mobile phone – social norms are changing

And, walking back to our hotel that evening, Rudy revealed that he had a big t-shirt collection… stored in alphabetical order (“So ones from ACDC and Australia, through to, err…” / “Zaire and ZZ Top?” / “Yes, exactly”. Reminded me of Rimmer*. I gently suggested that he might want to keep this information to himself and, for instance, not mention it when meeting new people 😉

* Red Dwarf character who would hang his identical shirts, pants and trousers in groups, perfectly spaced

5 January 201626 January 2018

Day 113 (Tue 5 Jan): Guilin to Guangzhou

China really knows how to travel by train – it’s clean and efficient. Plenty of space and airy carriages make it a very pleasant experience indeed:

And it’s fast:

Because the lines are straight – as I’ve mentioned previously, they’ve money and vast amounts of land (and I’m guessing, but I suspect a Communist government helps – as Sene said, the big wigs decide, nobody dares object and it gets done).

Outside, the landscape changed very quickly (no, not just because we were going almost 250kph):

But was still defined by lots of karsts:

Passing through numerous towns and cities, the homogeneity of the buildings was marked – metal and concrete, box-like, mostly symmetrical. Aesthetics clearly aren’t valued, which surprised me a little considering their elegant written script, descriptive language and cultural heritage.

The metro was in the same vein as their trains, the glass screen improving efficiency – very similar to London’s Jubilee line, the newest Tube line, so their transport system is clearly quite new. Plastic tokens this time, instead of thin card tickets – you place them on the sensor to enter through the barriers, and put it in the slot to exit. Efficient, sustainable and environmentally friendly. Regular travellers had plastic cards, again a better solution. Another difference was the seats – plastic and not divided by arm rests. I’m in two minds: on the downside, everyone was sliding all over the place as the train pulled away stopped at stations (which a metro is wont you do); on the other hand, they’re easy to clean. Eating was not allowed – this wouldn’t be a popular change on the Tube, but it would improve the experience for everyone (and I say this as a regular Tube eater although, for the record, I’m extra careful not to make a mess).

And another baffling slogan for the collection:

As usual, we hadn’t booked a hotel but as soon as we exited the metro we were presented with an offer of a hotel. The trick is to know the going rate (thanks, TripAdvisor). Rudy negotiated from 188¥ to 148¥, so we followed the guy to the hotel… where the room rate was set at 168¥. Dilemma: we were prepared to pay 168¥ but didn’t want to encourage his dishonest practice. Or let him off the hook. We put him on the spot; he did the Chinese embarrassed laugh and shaking of head. Point made, we went for dinner – a local(spicy) fish specialty which was delicious (also saw an African woman – haven’t seen any Africans during my travels so was a point of note):

… And then checked in at the hotel he’d brought us to 🙂

Another hotel aimed at Chinese, but I’m used to them and they’re good value for money (and usually come with respirators which is obviously very important).

We’d ended up in the * real* part of town – a trading estate near the station. Walking round that evening, we immediately noticed all the Africans – the lady in the restaurant hadn’t been a one off. Stopping to talk to a group hanging out on the street, it turns out they’re here to trade, sending (fake) goods back home – most of them are from Tanzania here on a one-year visa. But they can only stay thirty days at a time, so each month they make a day trip to Hong Kong. And with the Africans come African home comforts (mostly food). So on our last day in China, we found Little Africa 🙂

4 January 201626 January 2018

Day 112 (Mon 4 Jan): Guilin (City Wall Gate, twin pagodas)

City Wall Gate is the number one tourist attraction in Guilin. Here it is. Brace yourselves:

Another Che Guevara’s pants situation? I think so. We didn’t bother with whatever numbers two, three and four were 😉

Liver in my noodle soup this morning – that’s a first:

Twin pagodas (sun and moon, one is blue and the other yellow but they both looked grey today):

I haven’t had a western dinner for a month, so ordered steak and chips at the “Irish pub” (run by a Chinaman). Roughest one I think I’ve ever had – I should have predicted this as beef in China is tough, and the fact that he had to check what “rare” meant >_<

Jesting with the locals continued, as we tried to sell their own tours to the touts. And a conversation with a man who just kept talking and palm-writing in Chinese – funny thing was that he didn’t ever make it clear that he had no idea what we were saying. He just kept smiling, nodding and copying our hand gestures in agreement. He never came back with the beer and mango smoothie that Rudy ordered 😉

Other stuff from our walk round town included these living keyrings (I told you animal welfare was non-existent here):

And what appeared to be a “poetry battle” as each took it in turn to write beautiful (but to me unintelligible) script on the pavement in water:

And unexpectedly coming across this made me suddenly miss home:

Another selfie request from the table behind us at dinner (we’re averaging at least five a day). She was so lovely. There’s a definite gender split: females prefer photos with Rudy, males with me. Her older male companion (maybe her father) stopped by our table on their way out and said something to me. Problem was, I had no idea what he said. I should have recorded it for translation at a later date, but didn’t think. There are some apps that can translate spoken Chinese to English, but I can’t seem to access them in the app store. Plus they need me to activate mobile data (I haven’t bought a local SIM like I did in Cambodia). I would have paid to know what he said to me, though – he’d obviously thought about it. Or maybe it’s best that I’ll never know.

Random stuff from today:

Another day, another slogan:

In China, the streets are tiled. Yes, like you’d do at home. When it rains, they’re lethally slippery:

3 January 201626 January 2018

Day 111 (Sun 3 Jan): Yangshuo to Guilin

Thus far, noodle soup has not been given the time and space it deserves. I feel the need to correct this:

It started as a love-hate relationship – easily available, cheap and healthy, but my body was still conditioned to crave western breakfasts. As SE Asia is accustomed to western tourists, western breakfasts are easily available. Occasionally I tried to “eat local” for breakfast but my body just didn’t want it. Then I came to China. She’s not used to western tourists, so toast and eggs weren’t available. Noodle soup it was. Didn’t take long for my body to adjust and it now wants a nice bowl of noodle soup every morning.

It works like this: you choose your meat (of which you get very little, of course, because this is Asia and their diet is predominantly carbohydrates), they lower the noodles (you might get to choose which type) into some boiling water for a minute or so, the noodles are dumped in a bowl and various bits are added (meat, beans, peanuts, leafy veg – each place does it slightly differently), the bowl is topped up with stock, you add extra bits (again, it varies, but chili sauce, small green beans chopped with chili, coriander and spring onion are almost always offered) and finally you eat it (maybe wishing you hadn’t gone quite so heavy on the chili). Wherever makes it, it’s basically a bowl of fresh noodles – the rest is to make it more palatable. I’ve had it for breakfast every day since arriving in China, the Hilton buffet being a notable exception when I made the most of some western influence. So anyway, after noodle soup:

… we got on the bus to Guilin (actually we were in a tuk-tuk going to the station when he waved down a bus, pulled over, chucked us out whilst pointing at said bus saying urgently “Guilin, Guilin”, and snatched our fare out of my hand (despite the fact that we’d only gone half a kilometre down the road)).

We’d paid 22Y to get here, so I knew the bus fare. Short changed. I signalled more. Straight away she gave me more and continued down the bus without a word. I’m getting very fed up of this – it makes the travelling less enjoyable no matter how much I try not to let it. One of the things I’m looking forward to when I go home is not having to be on constant guard for overcharging – it started in Dubai and hasn’t stopped. I’m not even safe in supermarkets that have displayed prices as their tactic is to not “beep” it but put the value in manually. I’ve got wise to that one, too. And our hotel owner in Yangshuo had massively overcharged us for our bamboo raft tickets – I mentioned it politely, and she made excuses. I let it go as I’d made my point. I’ll let TripAdvisor do the hard work 😉

On a positive note, when I told the bus conductor that I needed the toilet, we pulled over at a petrol station less than five minutes later. That’s the Asian way.

From the bus window I saw lots of buildings. All single skin with no apparent damp proof course. Black damp was already crawling over even fairly new ones. It’s strange that cavity wall insulation, central heating and double-glazing hasn’t reached here yet, despite their climate being very similar to ours.

I spent much of the trip exploring Rudy’s music collection, tunes that I hadn’t heard in a long time, many of which brought back memories, and new stuff: Dire Straits, Aerosmith, Paul Kelly, The Eagles, Melissa Etheridge, Dream Theatre, Enya…

Walking the city streets later, we found those pizza bases again – must be a local delicacy – and “orange hand grenades”:

Then to the bus station where my latest app is coming in very useful by providing Chinese translations – technology can be wonderful.

And the photos – some sneaky, some requested. Sitting outside near a transport hub of some kind we were people-watching and noticed a group of young girls a few seats away.

“They want a photo,” said Rudy.

“Why don’t you go up and sit next them – it’ll make their day?”

“No, I want to see how long it takes them to summon up the courage…”

About five minutes later, one finally approached: “Can I take a photo?”

“Yes, of course you can.”

I think we made their day! Her English was pretty good so we chatted to the group for a while which was really nice – but again we forgot to ask them why they’d wanted a photo with us. Next time, I’ll remember next time.

To end, some clever packaging (I told you there weren’t so many interesting sights in China) – this yogurt packet had an air-filled compartment:

I think it’s to protect the main compartment so that, when under pressure, it doesn’t burst. Ingenious. If, indeed, that’s what it is. If you can confirm or deny, I’d be most grateful – I’m intrigued.

2 January 201626 January 2018

Day 110 (Sat 2 Jan): Yangshuo (Moon Hill, bamboo rafting)

Moon Hill:

… is nothing compared to the main tourist attraction – us. Seriously. I lost count of how many times I had my photo taken today. Sometimes surreptitiously (fine), mostly an outright request (preferred) – we always say yes. Because let’s not forget that we’re tourists too, and we’ve taken our fair share of pictures of other people. I’m used to it now. It might even be helping me get over my camera shyness.

Ma Ma Moon showed us “the local way” (10 yuan each) up the hill. We weren’t the only ones and wondered if the officials selling entrance tickets (15 yuan each) noticed that only 20 people were going up, but hundreds were coming down! Decided that they were probably in on the deal, too – that’s the Chinese way 😉

Highly-engineered paths and steps all the way to the top was also “the Chinese way”:

And more photo requests (this was a lovely young student couple who talked with us for ages):

Afterwards we realised we’d missed the opportunity to enquire as to *why* they wanted a photo with us.

As with most Chinese, their faces lit up with recognition at “London, England” but looked totally blank when presented with “Belgium”. Placing it among France, Germany and Holland didn’t help, whilst “Europe” also drew a complete blank.

When the woman on the top of the hill tried selling us water, Coke, beer, postcards, babbling away in Chinese, I said that Rudy could do with some razors and enquired as to whether she had any (with appropriate hand gestures). It caused amusement amongst some of the assembled spectators (I told you we’re the main attraction) who worked out what I was saying!

The view from the top was impressive:

An afternoon spent bamboo-rafting, which is about as exciting as it sounds:

But very relaxing, and affording good views of the karsts (which are all very similar sizes and shapes here, unlike Ha Long Bay):

And finally the sun came out:

West Street is the Khao San Road of Yangshuo – one visit was enough:

Rudy spotted the Thai massage sign before I did. It was amazing – she actually walked up and down my back and, when she’d finished and I was getting changed, I looked at the ceiling:

Brilliant 🙂

1 January 201626 January 2018

Day 109 (Fri 1 Jan): Yangshuo (mountain biking)

You notice them pointing their smartphone your way > you smile for the camera (and give the two-finger victory sign if you’re feeling particularly Chinese) > they see they’ve got a great picture and their faces light up > they then realise this means you know they were sneakily trying to take a picture of you and look sheepish.Today was the worst day so far for photos (or best day, if it’s your thing, I guess). I’m kinda getting used to it. It started as soon as we arrived on the tourist-laden bridge on our mountain bikes – I smiled, but he didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, just took the picture. But he then held a hand up in thanks and walked off.

Off into the beautiful karst landscape:

… along the (surprise, surprise) highly engineered roads:

A group of students kept slowing down and overtaking us. Eventually we worked out they were trying to take our picture. Rudy decided it was because of my stunning beauty (he might be Belgian, but he does a very good line in sarcasm) and took to riding in front of me, holding up his hand, palm forward, shouting “no photos, no photos” to the bemused Chinese cyclists coming the other way. And acting as policeman to move on the traffic when they slowed down to take photos of me out of their windows.

Very few people here speak English, and most who do speak very little. Even after you’ve made it clear you’ve no idea what they’re saying, they continue to try to have a conversation with you in Chinese. So we’ve started reciprocating – babbling along in English assuming that they know what we’re talking about. It leads to rather amusing “conversations”, like the one with the woman selling flowery, head garlands:

Rudy, totally straight-faced, explained to her that he wouldn’t need to buy one “because I’ve got quite a few at home already.” If and when they finally work out we don’t speak Chinese, they often then hold out their palm and use the other index finger to draw Chinese symbols on it. No, we can’t read Chinese either! But they’re all really good-natured and we always end with a smile:)

Tourist vandalism is (hopefully “was”) clearly a problem here with signs all over the place asking people to not pick the flowers, trample on the beds, etc. Pretty sure they’re not aimed at the western tourists – and I remembered my guide at the Grand Palace in Bangkok (the one who’d learnt his English from Harry Potter) getting quite upset when he explained that the Chinese tourists always wanted to touch things, which was damaging the structures.

Only saw one other mountain bike (ridden by a westerner), but some interesting cycle variations:

And river transport:

Market stalls all selling exactly the same thing:

And nutter drivers. Bus drivers are the worst with buses overtaking overtaking cars. As Mum would say: “It’s all going to end in tears.”

But it’s good to be out in the countryside again:

Here’s wishing you and yours a very happy new year 🙂

31 December 201526 January 2018

Day 108 (Thu 31 Dec): Guilin to Yangshuo

I like the Chinese. Not only are they generally kind and friendly, they keep telling me I’m pretty. I’m self-aware enough to know roughly where I sit on the ugly-beautiful continuum, so it’s somewhat baffling and surprising, but I’ll live with it. Maybe China has different criteria (i.e. a western look).

Airport-like security at bus stations is fairly pointless: I threw my backpacks into the machine but kept my bumbag on me; and one time, those who were presumably supposed to be monitoring said machine were playing cards. It’s just not scaleable. If London did things the same as here, nobody would ever get anywhere. It dawned on me that, at some point, TfL may tighten security so I should appreciate the ease with which I can move around now.

Waiting for the bus, I spotted a street snack that I hadn’t seen before:

I’m not really a pizza girl, but these were simple, crispy and tasty:

Bad driver. Really bad driver – he went too fast, made bad judgements and, most significantly, took risks that were simply unnecessary. For instance, stuck behind a slow construction lorry (of which there are lots due to the huge amount of building going on), he pulled into the centre of the road to start overtaking. It was clear that there was no way he’d get past before the oncoming bus reached us. But no matter, he was going to try. He pulled out and beeped his horn aggressively. The other bus gave a long, hard blast on the horn and then, two-thirds of the way into the manoeuvre, our driver finally acknowledged he wasn’t going to make it and retreated back behind the lorry. Oh, and the whole thing took place on a bend. Bad, bad driver. Sam’s artistic score: 2; Rudy’s technical score (remember he’s a professional driver): 1 (only because he didn’t actually crash, but it’s just a matter of time).

Tried to distract ourselves from the imminent danger by looking at the beautiful terrain:

Finally, we arrived. To hordes of women trying to sell tours:

Markets are nearly always interesting and Yangshuo’s was no exception with cockerels:

Ducks:

Hard-working employees (or maybe he was the boss):

And, unfortunately, unscrupulous traders. Don’t try to overcharge us for oranges – we know the going rate and will take all our business elsewhere if you try to scam us.

Walked through the town:

Back to the restaurant where Rudy had left his backpack (not a light traveller like me – perhaps I can teach him a thing or two about this travelling lark), where the kind lady owner sorted a taxi to our hotel at a decent price for us. Thank you 🙂

Into the limestone karsts we drove (not literally, obviously), past monkeys who had been dressed up and were being used for tourist photos – the Chinese seem to like and approve of this; it breaks my heart to see the animals degraded so.

And on our evening walk round this little village we met Ma Ma Moon, the matriarch of Moon Hill and its closest village. Speaking ten languages (including Flemish, which Rudy was most pleased, and surprised, about), she’s grown up in these parts. With a fire in her eyes, she was engaging, enthusiastic and entertaining. And over seventy years’ old.

Back at the hotel, we finally sampled a local delicacy: fish in beer (served with home-grown veg and endless supplies of rice):

Another interesting day, but not that exciting. Time in SE Asia didn’t go for long without interesting, exciting or amazing things happening. But China’s different. It’s organised and touristy, although those tourists are now Chinese rather than western. The experience is simply being in the country and observing the melting pot of western and Asian cultures. Without speaking the language, it’s difficult to get under the surface, to find out what the Chinese think of China, how they feel about their lives, their hopes and fears. Next time. Next time I’ll learn some of the language. Watch this space 🙂

30 December 201526 January 2018

Day 107 (Wed 30 Dec): Kaili to Guilin

China is building. Lots. And fast. Cranes and rubble are everywhere – big cities, small towns, ethnic villages. It’s a country on the rise, quite literally with all the buildings changing the skyline (but Chinese investments ended the year down, so something else is obviously going on that I can’t see).
Nine-and-a-half-hour bus journey from Kaili to Guilin through more limestone karsts that look almost handmade:

Here they don’t move mountains, but just break them down if they get in the way of the relentless building programme. Literally break them down.

I’m not sure whether you can see it on this pic, but the trees were in lines again – Buddha was obviously a very neat chap:

Boarded the bus to see these little ‘uns in our seats – I told you Asians board a bus and immediately start eating:

As predicted, they started puking not long after. Is this some kind of ancient ritual, handed down from generation to generation? With the amount of food their father had with him, it would appear so.

Barking from below gave away the dogs in the hold, but they had better prospects than the hounds on this passing lorry (was that subtle enough?):

Arriving in Guilin, we were accosted by the usual groupies, found a hotel and were led to our room. The key didn’t work. This isn’t unusual- we seem to jinx these electronic keys. Again and again he tried the door, each time being greeted with the universal noise for “I’m in charge, and there’s no way I’m letting you in”. He paused. The door opened from the inside and a middle-aged man was standing there. He smelled strongly of alcohol. A lady arrived and everyone chattered away in Chinese. Eventually we were taken to a different room, complete with optional extras of ladies’ and men’s’ underwear, a copious supply of condoms and the necessary emergency breathing apparatus. The whole experience was very surreal.

29 December 201526 January 2018

Day 106 (Tue 29 Dec): Kaili (Xijiang minority village)

I was ready for it this time. Ready for the tourist circus with separate tickets, buses and golf buggies, and souvenir shops. Xijiang is thought to be the largest Miao village, famous for its embroidery and silver ornaments (they believe silver can dispel evil spirits).

Evidence of the tourist dollars flowing in included a brand new basketball court, paved walkways and lots and lots of construction.

As expected, souvenir stalls lined the streets, with some very attractive wares:

However, some houses away from the street did look as though they’d been authentic at some point:

And here’s an authentic Miao village traffic jam:

It was impossible to know what was authentic, what was tourist-dollar-fuelled authentic, and what was completely manufactured.

Snacks were abundant, including a globule of something made from smashed rice:

Saliva wasn’t able to break it down, so Buddha knows what happened when, after several months of chewing, it hit my stomach. I don’t think I want to know, actually.

Only Chinese explanations in the museum, but it had a display of agricultural tools that was interesting due to their similarity with English manual tools.

And then another bus to the viewpoint which, despite the grey weather, afforded great views across the “village” (which, as you can see, seems to have expanded to almost “city” proportions):

An attempt to get off the beaten track didn’t quite work, but revealed interesting paths up through the houses on the hillside:

Animal welfare is still a major issue here: these donkeys were being loaded up with as many tiles as their carriers could take with little regard for their well-being:

An interesting little instrument (this one was kind of in tune – you’re welcome to play it when you next come round):

In a refreshing break from the norm, she charged me 10% below the advertised price (and an advertised price is a refreshing change in its own right) and then, as an afterthought, threw in a free book of tunes, too. Fanku!

Then back through the tourist turnstiles (authentic Miao turnstiles obviously):

To an overcharged noodle soup (he giveth and he taketh away):

Back in Kaili we wanted to get to the train station to check times and prices, but how to communicate our destination to the taxi driver at the front of the queue? I showed him an old train ticket (which he, and everyone else we tried, kept trying to take off me like it held the meaning of life) and Rudy even drew him a train. Five minutes later he twigged and, instead of just using the meter (hooray for the meter), he showed two fingers (palm down, to be fair): 20 yuan. It had cost 8 to do the opposite journey last night. Why do they have to try it on all the time? We laughed and walked off. Several other drivers couldn’t, or didn’t want to, understand our destination. Further down the queue, a driver got it straight away and simply assumed we’d use the meter (hooray)… but he was third in line and sent us back to the first driver. Oh for Buddha’s sake. We gave up and wandered further up the street… when one of the motorbike drivers who’d watched the whole shenanigans tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the bus stop over the road. The number one bus went to the train station. Two yuan each. What a gem – thanks, mate:)

Turned out the train would take 27 hours (bus was 8 hours) as we had to double back and wait for a connection. Bus it would be then.