wild china - kunming

Well, it may have taken us several weeks, but we finally (FINALLY!!) sorted through and organized our photos from China.  All 1200+ of them…  A country that we both loved and, at times, hated (we’ll get into that), Aman and I agree that China looks pretty spectacular in photos… at least our photos.

We spent a total of 18 days in China, which, I have to admit, was enough for me.  As we expected, China is a very difficult country to travel in.  The language barrier, for one, is a ridiculously huge obstacle for non-Mandarin speakers.  We found that while hotel receptionists usually had basic knowledge of the English language, most other hotel employees did not.  And forget about taxi drivers.  We found it essential to bring a note with us whenever leaving our hotel, instructing the taxi driver exactly where to bring us, as well as a business card from the hotel, if we wanted to ever make it back. 

On top of that, it was exceedingly rare to find a street sign in English.

Thus, between the inability to communicate with people and the impossibility of figuring things out for ourselves, we were very limited in our capacity to explore.  China, after all, is VAST.  Unlike Bali, for instance, where we would revel in our ability to get lost and find our way back to the starting point in a matter of hours, China is intimidatingly large.  Since we had little confidence in our ability to find our way back if we made a wrong turn along the way, we hesitated slightly before wandering off alone.

As far as general observations go, we also found China, for the most part, to be a “no” country.   This is the complete opposite of Vietnam, where everything is “yes.”  If you ask your waitress for a cup of coffee with milk in Vietnam and she doesn’t understand you, she will most likely say yes and disappear (or come back with something completely random).  If you ask your waitress for a cup of coffee with milk in China, on the other hand, she will most likely say no.  You’re never really sure if she doesn’t have coffee, or doesn’t have milk, or if she sold the last cup to the guy sitting next to you who is drinking coffee with milk, or she really doesn’t understand what you’re asking for….  But, the answer is usually “no.”

In addition, we got the feeling (repeatedly) that we were not incredibly welcome…  In Kunming, for example, we got daring one night and tried a local restaurant that came highly recommended from an ex-pat that we met earlier that day.  It was “the restaurant with the red walls.”  The food was good, especially this plate of mushrooms and pan-fried goat cheese that we ordered (think saganaki).  But, it was impossible to get napkins, soy sauce, chili sauce, rice, etc.  We tried every hand gesture possible, but every time, the waitress would run away to a group of other waitresses standing in the corner, where they would stare and giggle at us from behind their little notepads.  In Xi’an, it happened again.  We decided one night to try a Muslim-Chinese restaurant in the Muslim Quarter, which was amazing.  But, it was impossible at first to get anyone to take our order…  Table after table sat down after us and, time after time, their order was promptly taken.  Aman and I watched in a state of annoyed confusion…  Finally, we waved down Waitress No. 1 and pointed to our picture menus.  Can we order food please?  Waitress No. 1 flagged down nearby Waitress No. 2 and pointed to us.  To my amazement, Waitress No. 2 rolled her eyes and turned on her heels without so much as a word in reply to Waitress No. 1 (who was then nice enough to then take our order).  By the time we got to Shanghai, I had had enough.  We were ordering breakfast from a street food vendor one morning.  The woman behind the counter told Aman (in Mandarin) how much we owed for a savory crepe/pancake with chili sauce (delish).  Aman, who has infinite more patience than I do, held out some Yuan and asked if it was enough.  The woman next to us said something in Mandarin to the food vendor as she jerked her head towards Aman, and started laughing loudly.  Baffled, I asked her (in English) what was so funny.  She stopped smiling.  After that episode, Aman told me to channel the Dalai Lama – a phrase we use whenever one of us begins to lose our patience.  I tried to calm down, but couldn’t help but point out that the Dalai Lama is not allowed in China…

Don’t get us wrong.  Apart from not being able to communicate and not feeling terribly welcome, China was awesome.  The history, the culture, the food…  In our 18 days, we visited four cities – Kunming, Beijing, Xi’an and Shanghai – all of which were fascinating in one way or another.

Kunming

Kunming made it onto our China itinerary because Aman was particularly keen to see what “a smaller town” in China looked like compared to some of the more urban centers that we planned to visit, such as Beijing and Shanghai.  Relatively speaking, Kunming was the least populated city we visited in China.  But, make no mistake, when we got there, Aman and I quickly realized that Kunming is no small town.  Kunming, in fact, is the capital and largest city of Yunnan Province in Southwestern China.  With a population of 6.4 million, it is a flourishing city. 

We decided to enter China through Kunming because, well, it made sense for two people flying in from Hong Kong.  Two of four foreigners on the plane, we were quickly aware of how much we would stand out in Kunming. 

After our late night flight, things indeed got off to an interesting start as we left the airport via taxi.  We were hopeful, but not 100 percent sure, that our driver knew where our hotel was located.  As we drove away from the terminal building, I saw something come flying at me through the open window of the car.  Before I had time to react, a leaflet hit me smack-dab in the face.  What the…?  The driver rolled up my window before another one assailed me.  Confused, we peered out into the dark night and saw that it was a bunch of kids “working” for local travel agents/tour guide services by throwing leaflets at every passing taxi.  I told Aman that this better not be any indication of the next two and a half weeks…

Thankfully, things improved from there.  We made it to our hotel without incident, and, the next day – armed with three maps – we explored the city by foot.  It was a decent walk from our hotel to the neighborhood surrounding Green Lake Park, where we had heard we could find some good restaurants, cafes and bars.  Traffic was busy down the main boulevard lined with shopping malls and retail stores and, as we walked, we were impressed that all of the motor scooters seemed to be electric (air pollution in China is awful).  Once we got in close vicinity of the park, we were famished.  We found an awesome café-restaurant, Salvador’s Coffee House, where all the expats hung out.  The food was tasty, and the iced cappuccinos were so good we ordered two rounds. 

Sufficiently caffeinated, we set off after lunch for the Green Lake Park, which is a major public green in Kunming.  The park consists mostly of winding pathways that cross over and between small lake-ponds, as opposed to lawns.  It was a perfect spring day, and the park was full of people doing all sorts of leisurely activities.  The men in the last photo were flying some serious kites.

The troops of people dancing were probably our favorite people in the park.  We must have passed by a dozen of them, several of which we stopped to watch, all dancing to a different beat.  Side to side, back and forth, in circles – they moved in every direction.  Regardless their routine, they were all very into it.  Some were even dressed in festive costumes.  Fascinating!

After a couple hours of people watching in the park, we decided to go back to Salvador’s to grab a couple of beers.  By that time, the place was packed with a lively mix of locals and ex-pats. 

Not long after we sat at the large communal table, Aman decided that it would be a good time to run to the China Unicom store that we had passed earlier on so that he could buy a local SIM card for our phone – this is typically one of our first priorities upon entering a new country.  Shouldn’t be too hard, Aman said before setting off.  Clearly, he forgot that nothing is simple in China (at least for a bunch of non-Mandarin-speaking foreigners).  Sure enough, what was supposed to be a quick run slowly turned into an eternity.  Where was he, I thought to myself, trying to stay calm.  Finally, a very exhausted looking Aman appeared in the doorway of the restaurant.  That was the most difficult conversation I’ve ever had in my life, he said as he sat down.  But did you get the SIM card, I asked after listening to how he was misdirected, misunderstood and misinformed about obtaining a SIM card with international dialing capabilities.  Yeah, I got it.  But you have no idea. That was about the most difficult conversation that I’ve ever had in my life.  That was more difficult than trying to convince a CEO why it makes sense to take his publicly listed company private…  We ordered another round, and called it a night. 

The next day, as opposed to getting lost, we arranged to have a car take us to the Bamboo Temple and Xishan Forest Park, both of which were located a short distance outside of the city.  We thought the temple was underwhelming, but Xishan (otherwise known as the Western Hills) overlooking Lake Dian was very cool. 

At Xishan, everyone was required to take a bus from the base of the hill to the midpoint, where we then had a choice to take a tram or walk to the top.  Given an option that involved fresh air and a walk through the woods, we chose to hike.  Beginning on a good paved road, the end of our trek brought us through a series of staircases and narrow corridors, which were carved into the vertical face of the hill.  Along the way, we passed several small temples in quintessential Chinese design, shrines and the famous Dragon Gate.  There were also some pretty spectacular views of Kunming.

Dragon Gate:

Temple at the base of Xishan:

After hours of hiking in the park, we made our way back to the city.  It was evening by then, and we were in need of a cold beer, as well as something to eat.  The obvious choice was to head back to the neighborhood by Green Lake Park, where all the good restaurants were located.  The hard part was communicating this to our non-English-speaking driver, a super nice man who smiled a lot and spoke to us in Mandarin all day as if we understood him.  After a few calls to the woman who arranged our car and helped us translate our wishes, we were on our way.  We ended up at a small restaurant, As You Like, which came highly recommended by an ex-pat who we had met the day before.  The cozy, little restaurant was located in a converted house down a small, gray alley off the main road.  When we sat down, it felt as though we were sitting not in a restaurant, but in someone’s living room.  Besides the food (amazingly good thin crust pizza), the highlight of the evening was when Aman asked for a place to wash his hands, and one of the employees led him into the alley with a spigot for the tap and some hand soap.  Interesting place…

Our final day in Kunming was, by far, the best.  We arranged another car for the day to take us to the Stone Forest, a fairly popular tourist destination outside of Kunming, and Fuxian Lake, the third largest lake in Yunnan province.  Our tour guide for the day, Mike, was a Canadian ex-pat who we had met two nights earlier at Salvador’s.  He had been living in Kunming for several years, and was currently operating a paragliding business in addition to doing private tours with his sweet wife Jenny, who joined us for the day. 

Located about an hour outside of Kunming, the Stone Forest was very cool.  Mike took us to a couple of remote spots where we climbed on these amazing rock formations made of limestone.  Jutting straight out of the ragged brush, they were massive!  And the greatest part was that there was no one there but us.  Aman and I would highly recommend an off-the-beaten-path approach to anyone planning to visit Kunming and the Stone Forest.  Apparently, if you join a more organized tour, they bring you to a very popular part of the forest, which is overrun with tourists.  Also, from what we heard, the touristy spot consists of a bunch of manicured pathways that let you wander around the rock formations, but do not allow you to climb on them, which is really the fun part. 

After a morning of rock climbing, we drove to a small village to check out a new temple that was under construction.  When we pulled up, we found three men working on the gate to the walled complex, which was set at the base of another huge limestone formation.

Amazingly, they let us walk in and check out their (very active) construction site.  We climbed some steps carved into the limestone of the adjacent hill, across some wooden planks that would one day be replaced with concrete pathways, to watch what was going on below in various sections of the complex where several temple buildings were being erected.  Workers with shovels, workers with jackhammers, workers moving huge rocks with their bare hands, people swinging picks and axes – it was cool to watch.

Leaving the village, we stopped briefly to admire a local bull, which was accompanying his owner on a walk to the village post office.  Hugest horns we had ever seen on a bull, for sure.

The ride to Lake Fuxian took almost an hour and a half from there.  Along the way, we drove down modern roads surrounded by rolling hills of farmland.  (The region of Kunming is well known for its ability to sustain various types of agriculture.)  Wheat, in particular, was being widely harvested in the passing fields.

When we reached the crystal blue lake, we made a quick stop for lunch in a local restaurant overlooking the water.  There was no menu, but rather, a showcase of fresh meat and vegetables.  Jenny did an amazing job in taking the lead and ordering our meal – sliced pork, chicken with mushrooms, spicy lotus root, a soup of cabbage and tofu, spicy cucumbers with wild greens and dried red chilies, another plate of green leafy vegetables.  Incredibly good, and probably the most authentic meal we had in Kunming. 

Over lunch, Mike gave us some options on what we could do around the lake that afternoon.  Aman and I decided that we wanted to take a drive up the mountain to a tiny remote village, from where we would do a 2-kilometer hike to a point overlooking the lake.  The drive itself was a bit of a nail biter.  We traversed the mountain on a single-lane road, which consisted of hairpin turns and loose gravel.  Mike pointed out that, when it rains, it was too dangerous to use that particular road.  Nonetheless, the further along we got, the more breathtaking the views.  We passed by several fields bearing China Tobacco signs.  Mike explained that the land is leased by the government to the farmers.  The farmers grow the tobacco, and sell it back to the government, which guarantees its purchase.

After climbing and climbing the mountain, we stopped in a tiny, remote village where 15-20 families lived.  Their houses were made out of brick and dried red mud - the same red mud that we had seen all day in the countryside surrounding Kunming.  A couple of dogs barked nearby, and little elderly women trailed us in curiosity as we walked through the village.  We got the immediate impression that the village folk didn't often see visitors, let alone foreigners, in these parts.  Indeed, this is the reaction that Aman got when he tried to take a picture of this adorable, albeit distraught, little boy.

I got a similar reaction from the boy when I tried to give him a piece of candy...

On the opposite side of the village, we found the red dirt hiking path that would take us to the lookout point.  It was most likely created by goats, at least in part.  In fact, the only person we saw on the path that day was a goat herder and his herd.

In the late afternoon with the sun setting behind the mountains behind us, the solitude of the mountains was blissful and the views of the lake below were gorgeous.

On the way back through the village, we found men and women threshing wheat with both machines and flails.  Despite being unaccustomed to strangers, they were super friendly, stopping us to offer sweet cherries from a nearby tree that had just began to ripen.  There was something beautiful about the simplicity with which they lived in the remote mountains.

In all, it was such an amazing day, and a perfect ending to our time in Kunming.

hanoi, hanoi... halong bay, hanoi

After three and a half weeks, Aman and I concluded our Vietnam adventure by spending some time in the bustling capital city of Hanoi and, after our motorcycle trek up north, taking a side trip to popular Halong Bay.  Time well spent, which incidentally reaffirmed something that Aman and I have always believed about traveling – a valuable part of the experience is about the people you meet along the way.  From locals to fellow travelers, we met a lot of great people while we were in Vietnam.

Our first pass through Hanoi – we spent a total of five non-consecutive nights there – was for three nights, immediately before we left for our motorcycle tour.  We didn’t have much time to explore, because we were preoccupied with preparations for our two-wheeler voyage, which were fairly time consuming.  But, in between checking out our bike, buying new boots for Aman, reshuffling the contents of all our bags, etc., etc. we managed to squeeze in some fun.

To begin with, Hanoi is very cool.  At least for us – we love busy cities.  The Old Quarter is a dizzying maze of narrow crooked streets that twist and turn in the area north of Hoan Kiem Lake.  The clever street names, which change every one or two blocks, describe what you can buy there (e.g. Hats Street, Chicken Street, Fish Street, Shoe Street).  The sidewalks are PACKED with street food vendors, people eating said street food and an overflow of goods from the crowded little shops.  Like Ho Chi Minh City, it’s impossible to walk on the sidewalks, so people tend to meander in the streets along with the motor traffic.  Two-wheelers (more than we saw in HCMC, or so it seemed) and bicycles everywhere – typically overloaded with interesting cargo such as potted plants and conical hats (of course).

Shops on "Shoe Street":

Pedestrian & Motor Traffic in Old Quarter:

Aman and I spent a lot of time just walking around, observing the locals, sampling the intriguing looking street food, and getting lost while trying not to get run over.  We also met up one night with our old buddies Alex and Caleb who we first met in Nha Trang.  (When we ran into them again in Hoi An, we had a blast.  So when it turned out that our trips were going to overlap again in Hanoi, both sides naturally said we would be in touch.)  It was late afternoon/early evening and Aman and I had been prepping for our bike trip all day (read: exhausted, and in need of a refreshing beer).  We found a place on Ta Hien at a busy little intersection in the Old Quarter where we had walked by a few times earlier in the day.  This intersection was crammed with tiny shops selling cheap bia hoi, or draft beer, to thirsty patrons who sat on plastic chairs and little stools on the sidewalk. 

The place we chose to meet Alex and Caleb (and two of their buddies from home, Kyle and Keith, who were joining them for a couple of weeks) had luxurious (i.e., non-plastic) regular-sized tables and chairs, which were haphazardly arranged on top of each other on the sidewalk outside the bar-café.  We squeezed in, ordered a round, and took in the sight of the street traffic, which was thoroughly entertaining.  Every couple minutes, a street hawker would approach our table and ask one or more of us to buy a wallet, a shirt, a lighter or some other type of trinket. 

After a round or two, we bought a bottle of cheap local vodka and went to check out the scene at the Hanoi Backpackers Hotel, where Alex and Caleb were staying, which was an absolute riot.  Lots of interesting people traveling through, including a friendly young woman, Margaret, who randomly grew up a block away from the apartment where Aman and I lived before entering our current nomadic forms.  I spent most of my night talking to her about travels and so on.  Not before long, however, the bartender was sounding a gong to let everyone know that it was 11:30 p.m. (i.e., closing time – everything shuts down early in Hanoi).  I returned to find the guys, some of who evidently had been sharmed in my absence.  Aman and I said our last good-byes to Alex and Caleb (since our travels would go different ways after Hanoi), and rickshawed it home.  

The next evening, we were invited to the home of an awesome couple, Marvin and Lauren, who were introduced to Aman by one of his former colleagues.  A great night of conversation about living abroad in Hanoi, among other things, and a delicious home cooked Vietnamese meal to boot.  For two people who hadn’t shared a home cooked meal with anyone in way too long, Aman and I were beyond thankful for their company and generosity.  More great people. 

Our second pass through Hanoi was a quick one.  We returned to Hanoi in the early evening of a pleasant day, in a state of complete exhaustion/soreness after successfully finishing our seven-day motorcycle journey.  Upon checking into our hotel in the Old Quarter, we inquired whether the receptionist could help us book an overnight trip to Halong Bay for the next night.  It was a bit of short notice – nothing like waiting to the last minute to get organized – but, by some stroke of good luck, there was one cabin available on a pretty, dark brown junk boat with bright orange sails that the über friendly/helpful receptionist recommended.  (Spending the night on a “junk” is an incredibly popular way to tour Halong Bay.  It typically includes a private cabin to sleep in for the night, meals, kayaking and pit stops at various sights of interest.)  The pictures, brochures and online reviews of this particular junk looked great.  And so, after some quick research, we took it.

We made our way to Halong Bay very early the next morning on a mini-bus packed full with other travelers who would be staying on the same junk as us that night.  Driving out of Hanoi, Aman and I quietly laughed in amazement about how different it felt to be traveling in a bus as opposed to on a motorcycle.  Make no mistake, driving a motorcycle was way more exhilarating.  But, at the same time, after seven days on the back of a dirt bike, we were absolutely ready for, and more than happy to be in, a couple of comfortable bus seats cruising down a paved road.

Halong Bay is about 170 kilometers east of Hanoi.  When we arrived, it was chaos!  Hundreds of tour buses dropping off and/or picking up thousands and thousands of tourists (There are hundreds of junks in Halong Bay, and they all share the same time for starting and ending their one or two night tours, so it gets insanely busy at certain times.)  Big tour groups wearing red baseball caps, orange caps, purple visors, etc. – they marched about everywhere, led by tour guides who carried flags in corresponding colors.  It was madness.  Much of this chaos we expected, as everyone will tell you that a trip to Halong Bay can be relatively touristy compared to other parts of Vietnam.  We knew this before signing up, so it was okay.  And, thankfully, we were pretty chilled out from the previous week’s experience of riding a motorcycle through the deserted mountains of Vietnam (what a contrast). 

Our guide ushered us through a turnstile and past the ticket-taker to a set of concrete steps that descended straight into the waters of the bay alongside a long covered pier.  There, Aman and I waited patiently among our group for a smaller boat that would take us to our junk (hundreds of them were cruising around the bay – air horns blaring – ferrying passengers from the pier area to the large junks sitting offshore).  While waiting, we couldn’t help but discuss the weather, which was fairly terrible.  A light, but steady rain was falling and the bay was engulfed in a thick great whiteness.  It was a bit of a downer, and we did our best to ignore it.  This was Halong Bay, after all, and we had been waiting in anticipation for three weeks to see those giant limestone karsts jutting out of the water. 

When we pulled up to our junk, the first thing that we noticed was that, contrary to the pictures in the brochure, the exterior of our boat was painted white.  Like the weather, this was a bit of a disappointment.  From afar, it seemed as though the paint job was hastily done.  That is, it didn’t look very good.   Like many other junks sitting in the bay, the white paint was uneven, with bare spots and drip marks here and there.  Things got more confusing when we got on the boat and saw that the interior cabins and hallways were the beautiful dark wood that we were promised.  Maybe this was the boat in the brochure, we thought in puzzlement.  Long story short, we heard later that night that the owner of the junk (who owns more than half the other junks in Halong Bay) recently returned from an extensive overseas trip.  Through his observations while abroad, he concluded that Americans and Europeans preferred white boats.  So he came home and directed that all of the boats in Halong Bay should be painted white.  The employees weren’t too happy about the directive.  They used cheap paint, and painted without care.  I can’t say that we verified all of these details, but we did talk to one employee who confirmed that the boat had been painted approximately two weeks before we arrived.  He shrugged when we asked him why…

At any rate, when Aman and I got on board, we dropped our bags in our luxurious cabin, and went to explore, starting with the bar where we each grabbed a beer.  We took them upstairs to the upper deck to check out the view.  Very cloudy, but it was still spectacular.  The heavy fog, the limestone karsts, and the dark gray waters – we were far from the noisy pier by now, and the quiet bay felt eerily beautiful without any sunlight.

We particularly liked the colorful little fishing boats and floating fishing villages, which have been around Halong Bay for generations:

Overall, the Halong Bay tour was a good one.  The first day, we stopped at a very popular cave (Hang Sung Sot), which was absolutely ginormous – the biggest one that either of us had ever seen.  Our informative tour guide pointed out the more important formations – the Vietnamese have a practice of giving these oddly shaped rocks clever little names (e.g., Sleeping Beauty, Romeo and Juliet, etc.).

Back aboard the junk, we spent the rest of the afternoon/evening in the company of some truly awesome people – Andreas, Claudia, Elijah, Steven, Steven, Melissa – who were also staying aboard for the night.  One great conversation after another.  We talked until it was late in the night - some of us, long after the crew of the boat had laid out their roll up mattresses and went to sleep on the dining room floor.

Aman and I awoke the next day and went kayaking, which was fun (despite the lingering fog and rain).

We had a quick lunch and, after a shuttle on the smaller ferry boat, were back on shore around noon.  Aman and I said our good-byes, wished safe travels to the group, and boarded a mini-bus that would take us back to Hanoi.  As we drove, we soaked in the passing landscapes one last time.

That night, our final night in Vietnam, we ventured out to Stonegate, a trendy yet laid-back restaurant recommended by Marvin and Lauren, which is frequented often by ex-pats. There, we had a delicious meal and lovely wine (not easy to find in Vietnam), chilled out to funky music and met some more great people.  It was an awesome close to our travels in Vietnam.

In the end, Vietnam is perhaps our favorite country travelled thus far.  We loved almost everything about it - the incredibly nice people that we met everywhere we turned, the consistently amazing food (very important for us!), the beyond reasonably priced food and hotel accommodations.  Perhaps the greatest thing about Vietnam, however, is the diversity of culture and topography you find within.  Our travels brought us through modern cities, tiny fishing villages, pristine beaches, lush mountains - each inhabited by different types of people with unique traditions and customs.  It was an experience that we will never forget.