Can't See the Wood for the Musicians

2009 09 15 – Day 81 – Chengde

After the underwhelming Hill Temple, I wasn't expecting a lot from Puning Temple.

I think they were preparing for the upcoming 60th anniversary of the founding of the People's Republic of China celebrations, but I'm not sure.

The main temple building, in front of which some musicians were playing:

I was quite interested in some of their instruments and the sounds they were making, but couldn't stand around all day and so moved on to explore elsewhere.

I'd imagine whatever is at the bottom of that pile is pretty secure!
But it wasn't just that pile, there were padlocks all over the place on railings, lanterns and anything that seemed a permanent fixture in the gardens behind the temple.

To leave the temple complex, tourists are herded along a mock ancient street lined with shops overflowing with everything a tourist could want

I wasn't too put off by 'tourist street' until costumed children appeared to perform short acrobatic feats before requesting money.
I hurried on through.

It wasn't until I was on the train to my next destination that I realised I'd missed something. Scanning through the Lonely Planet to read some history that I might have missed due to my guide speaking Chinese, I was confused by not being able to find the write up of this temple. Digging out my ticket confirmed that it was Puning Temple, but the Lonely Planet guide said that Puning Temple contained the world's largest wooden sculpture! Where the hell was that then!? How could I have missed it!? I raced through the pictures on my camera in disbelief.
Ah. That's where it was!

Distracted by the musicians, tourists milling in the doorways, and a little pressed for time, I'd elected not to jostle for a view inside.
That'll learn me! Always know what you're going to see!
Ah well. Maybe I'll see it next time I'm in town! :P

Shanhaiguan Nightlife

2009 09 13 – Day 79 – Shanhaiguan

First stop after Beijing – Shanhaiguan – a heavily 'restored' old town to the east of Beijing, occupying a strategic location between the mountains and the sea and well known for being the only place The Great Wall meets the sea.

Having arrived at the end of the afternoon, I'd barely had sufficient time to find a place to stay and settle in before darkness fell.

And so out I strode into the warm summer night in search of dinner

The spiders crafting impressive webs on their lampposts were easily large enough that a few could make substantial and possibly nutritious dinner... but no way was I tempted to try!

There were very few people out and about, but those that were still managed to obstruct my photography:

having said that, I think the silhouettes add to this photo. I believe the man is airing his crickets – which gave the street a lovely gently musical ambiance.

Eventually, having left the old town, I found a streetside barbecue.

With the help of the smiley, friendly, if a little embarrassed, teen girls waiting the tables, and a good deal of pointing and not being fussy, I managed to have a fairly tasty dinner of fish, sausage, garlic bread and pepper. I'd innocently ordered what I thought was a bell pepper to add some veg to the meal, but in fact it was a massive chili pepper! It was one of those hot peppers where you know its hot after you've had some, but the true heat doesn't come through until two or three bites later... by which point it was far too late. Trying to keep my breathing normal, stem the sweat at the hairline, soothe my mouth with beer and not cry was tough for a moment or two, but I beat it... mostly... I did have hiccups for much of the rest of the evening!
Walking off the chili-pepper before bed and exploring the town a little, I hadn't gone far before the sound of drumming danced out of the darkness and, like the flame beguiling a moth, drew me to its source.

A small troop were giving a bit of a streetside show and a rag-tag band of onlookers had gathered. It looked like some kind of amateur/hobby group thoroughly enjoying themselves. I watched from the sidelines for a good 15-20 minutes till they were done, enjoying the rhythm of the drums, the crashing of the symbols and the enthusiasm of the performers. One sprightly elderly gent with a twinkle in his eye, and doing a good job of looking like a Chinese drag-queen, spied me grinning from the sidelines on his way by and made at least a couple of attempts to rope me in! A negotiation that brought much to the amusement of the chubby teen who'd sidled to my side for a closer look at the sole foreigner present.
Soon after the last drumbeat had ebbed out into the night, I beat a hasty retreat back through the old town to my bed.

Hitting the Ground Running

2009 08 14 – Day 49 – Beijing

You might not describe spending most of my first full day in Beijing on the internet as 'hitting the ground running', but the work I did that day was the coiling of my spring, a gathering of strength through knowledge and connections before launching myself into a month of action!
I planned to be in Beijing so long in order to learn a little Chinese and acclimatise to the culture if possible, before setting out into the rest of the country, so I wasn't in a hurry to do any sight seeing.
Thanks to my solid groundwork, by the end of the first weekend, three days after arrival, I had arranged daily language classes to begin on Monday, made some local friends, eaten the classic street barbecue 'chuar', played mahjong, partied in three different club venues and slept on a couch.
Not bad going I'd say.

Chuar outdoor restaurants

Chinese Funk! At trendy live venue/bar/club Yugong Yishan.

Arriving on a Thursday had proved a good strategy. I felt vindicated that I had chosen to continue my journey to arrive in time for the weekend rather than stay longer in Almaty

Russian Rail Companions

2009 07 27 – Day 31 - Train to Aralsk

Help comes from unexpected places and unexpected people.
As I considered my situation, feeling pretty low, alone and unprepared, a young man from my carriage joins me night gazing out of the corridor window. He engages me in conversation with broken English and I attempt to explain my predicament,. Though I'm not sure he understands the detail, he understands things are not going my way and offers me a cup of tea. The sweet, hot, fragrant fruit tea is wonderfully revitalising and my mood picks up immediately. My rescuer is called Roman and he is a car mechanic and re-sprayer traveling with his wife and 4-year-old son to visit relatives in Almaty. At the next station we get down to share beers. The station is one of the few on this route where you can buy good fish and Roman excitedly buys two sides of smoked fish, each about 60cms long, and insists one is for me! I feebly protest, mainly because there's enough meat on it for one person for a week, but inevitably cave in and gratefully accept as I have no other food. Once the train is on its way again, we share his Metallica emitting headphones and chat away the darkness until the weak light of dawn insists we try and sleep.

Roman and his young family.


Enthusiastic 11-year-old Russian acrobat-in-training and drum and bass afficionado (!), whose enthusiasm was a big help getting through the unexpected additional 24 hours on the train. Unfortunately I've misplaced his name – probably on a piece of paper that I've sent home – and so can't credit him properly.

Train to Aralsk

2009 07 25-26 – Days 29-30 - Train to Aralsk


I was glad to be the first to find my compartment and claim a space for my rucksack, especially 5 minutes later when I was joined by an entire family of six! Given that the compartment was only designed for four, I was somewhat relieved to realise that the four children and father were actually sending off their gran and she would be the only one of their group joining me. Granny Goldie, as I mentally knew her on account of her gold teeth, was a dumpy lady approximately late 60s carrying a permanently dour expression... she didn't seem to be too impressed with my existence. Shortly after the whirlwind that were her descendents deposited her on her berth, the two upper berths of our compartment were claimed by two rugged men of the earth in their late fourties – real characters who appeared to be returning home from work in Moscow, seemingly travelling independently but immediately bonding in anticipation of their shared travelling space. All three of my room-mates seemed nonplussed by my presence, particularly after the subtleties of their questions in Russian rebounded off my mirror of incomprehention. I smiled politely and tried my best to understand, but for the most part I was reduced to shrugging and looking blank. Clearly their English was as good as my Russian. Once that was sorted out, they felt satisfied enough accepting I was there, but otherwise ignoring me... and soon enough we all retired for the night.


My bed at night and shared seat in the day and corridor of our car.


The toilet – more old and worn than dirty, but dirtier than this picture communicates and dirtier than most of us used to modern facilities would like.
Washing in this space was interesting.


Dawn. There's definitely something special about the world rolling by as you fall asleep and that still being the case when you wake. Writing my diary and watching the world go by, I had a strong sense of contentment, of being in the right place at the right time, of everything being as it should be.


The train makes a stop every few hours, each between 5 and 25 minutes, providing opportunities for passengers to stretch their legs and purchase food and drink from locals on the platform. As the day heats up, a popular purchase is a frozen bottle of water which provides a steady supply of cold water as the iceblock within gradually melts. The day gets so hot that melting seems to be the most natural activity, and as my body dissolves in its own puddle of sweat, my brain melts with the banality of never-ending synth-orchestra instrumental reworkings of classic pop and rock tunes oozing from unseen speakers. The searing sun burns the Russian landscape onto my retina.

Rovaniemi

2009 07 20-21 – Days 24-25 – Rovaniemi

Returning to Rovaniemi after 10 years was even more familiar and yet strange than Helsinki. Almost everything is as it was back then, but the crucial difference being that previously I'd been here winter through to spring and this time round it was summer... in summary, there was no snow! Not even a hint of it.

Not a particularly great picture of the complete lack of snow and ice.

One of the things that had changed was the name of the central square: now Lordi's Square after the cultural behemoth that was Lordi, the monster heavy metal band that stomped all over the Eurovision Song Contest 2006. Why Rovaniemi? Because lead vocalist Mr. Lordi (what else would he be called!?) was spawned there of course – but you knew that already didn't you... :P


Above you can see the mini shrine to Lordi in the local shopping centre, housing their armour of darkness that helped power them to victory. Meanwhile, a young accolytes make a pilgrimage to the square to give thanks to the lordi's of darkness...


Meeting up with old friends Pia & Nunnu over a pint was great.


Tivoli – venue of the best student nights when I was here last... most memorable of which was probably the beach party where it was -30 degrees C outside and +30 inside! Outside everyone wore heavy duty winter wear, inside bikinis and shorts. Sand everywhere, ultimate frisbee and even a massage beach hut!


Fond memories of learning to snowboard on this slope... there was a lot of snow on it at that time... honest!


Somehow the whole 'Santa Village' concept is a whole lot more compelling when there's eye-high snow everywhere!