We closed out our travels in China with short visits to Xi’an,
home of the much-hyped-about Terracotta Army, and Shanghai, the largest (by
population) and most modern city in the PRC.
This part of the journey involved some seriously long overnight train
rides, starting in Beijing from where we left for Xi’an.
The train station in Beijing was an absolute madhouse. First of all, it was huge. I followed Aman closely through the giant
halls, filled with people darting here and there, as we passed stores left and
right that all sold the same items, more or less. Secondly, the station was packed. When Aman and I found the gate for our
platform, which shared a cavernous waiting room with three other gates, there
were people everywhere. Standing in
groups, sitting in any and every chair available, sleeping on their luggage, squatting
on the ground, etc. The floor was
covered in a gritty layer of dirt and strewn with sunflower seed shells and the
occasional glob of spit. With that many
people jammed in there, it didn’t seem like an easy place to keep clean, I reasoned
in its defense. Aman and I cut through to
our gate, passing by the ubiquitous group of domestic tourists in matching
hats. Our train was boarding so thankfully
we did not have to spend any time in the waiting area.
On the platform below, we quickly found our train car and
our deluxe private compartment. Yes, it
was a bit of our splurge, but it was also our first time aboard an overnight
train in China and we were curious what first class luxury would be like. Besides, how often will we have the chance to
do this again, we asked each other. Complete
with a cozy armchair, a private toilet, bunk beds, and a locking door in our
cabin, we were riding in style – at least, relatively speaking.
Soon after we left the station, Aman went to the café car to
procure some beers and wine for the long night ahead. From one of our bags, I fished out our beaten
up deck of playing cards and an iPad, which I quickly set to a chill playlist
that some good friends made for us before we left New York (thanks Jason and
Annie!). We played cards, listened to
music and talked about Xi’an and the adventures that lie ahead. At some point, a young Chinese kid who we had
seen working the train beverage cart throughout the night, came into our cabin
(the door was open). For no particular
reason, perhaps out of plain curiosity, he sat down and started watching us
play cards. He picked up our iPad,
turned it over and inspected it from every angle. He put it back down and pointed to the bottle
of red wine on our table, picked up an empty glass, and said something in
Mandarin to Aman. Wine glass, Aman said. The
kid put the glass back down on the table and continued to watch us play
cards. Aman asked him a few simple
questions in English, but predictably, those went unanswered. The kid picked up the stack of unused cards
that we were using in a game of gin rummy, turned them over and started sorting
through them. Yo man, what are you doing… we’re playing a game of cards here,
Aman said. The friendly colleague of our
young companion appeared in the door moments later and said something to him in
Mandarin. He got up and left without a
word. And, that was the last we saw of
our curious little friend who was in charge of the beverage cart.
Arriving the next morning in Xi’an, the train station was crazy
and chaotic, but less so than Beijing, by far. Xi’an is comparatively smaller than Beijing by
about 11 million people. Don’t let that
fool you – with 6.5 million urban dwellers of its own, Xi’an has an urban
population that is almost as large as the population of Massachusetts. Yet, when we got there, Aman and I seemingly forgot
that Xi’an, one of the ancient capitals of China, was so big. We were struck with the same sense that when
had upon arriving in Kunming – this may not be Beijing or Shanghai, but it was
still, no small town.
What brought us to Xi’an, naturally, were the Terracotta
Warriors, one of the greatest archaeological discoveries of the 20th century. Found in 1974 by a group of farmers digging a
well, the subterranean army of warriors dates back to 3rd century BC. (Stop for a minute, and think about how
remarkable that is…) Numbering in the
thousands, the warriors were meant to protect the first Qin Emperor in his
afterlife, and provide him with subjects to rule over.
Aman and I commissioned a private car to take us to see the
marvelous sight, which sits a fair distance outside of the old walled city of Xi’an. We thought that hiring a private driver would
get us out of the mandatory visit to a terracotta warrior reproduction factory
and authentic souvenir shop, which always seems to be involved when you do an organized group tour. It should
have, but much to my disappointment, it did not. Our driver laid on us one of the greatest
guilt trips of all time, explaining how a mere 20-minute stop at the factory
workshop for us will, in turn, get a half-tank of gas for him… and gas is very, very, VERY expensive in
China. So we agreed to make the stop, my
foot tapping the entire time…
I am not sure what we were expecting to see when we got to the site of the Terracotta Army,
but what we found was a huge, overdeveloped tourist venue packed with visitors. The strip of souvenir shops and food stands
that runs between the outdoor ticket counters and the pit exhibition center is
long enough that a shuttle service is provided for those who cannot handle the
walk. (If you do walk, be prepared to
encounter some very pushy salespeople hawking some very overpriced
souvenirs.) One of the farmers who
discovered the underground army in 1974, and had since written a book about it,
was sitting in a small glass building signing autographed copies of his story,
acting as somewhat of a celebrity guest. We assumed he was genuine but, then again,
most things in China are knock-offs, so it may have been anyone sitting there.
The exhibition complex is a series of different buildings
and excavation pits. At the recommendation
of our Lonely Planet guidebook, we watched a short film in the theater (which
was fairly underwhelming) and then tackled the pits in semi-reverse order. We started in Pit 2, which frankly was as
impressive as the short film. One of the
smaller pits, we saw a piece of a warrior here and there, but not much
else. Moving on to Pit 3, we thought,
okay, now we might be getting somewhere.
Groups of life-sized warriors – some of which were missing their heads,
but otherwise in incredibly good condition – stood facing different
directions. There was also a group of
horses apparently meant for pulling a chariot (i.e., they had no saddles).
The real show, however, is in Pit 1, which is bigger than
Pits 2 and 3 combined. One of the things
that we will remember most about first walking into Pit 1 was the beautiful
smell of cold dirt. (Seriously, a
distinctive earthen aroma that we will never forget.) The army is impressive for not only its size of
6,000 soldiers and the unique features of each and every soldier (no two are
exactly alike), but also its formation, which shows how ancient Chinese
militaries worked. These warriors were
ready to go to war. For all of these
reasons – plus the fact that all of this sat buried underground for 2,200 years
before being inadvertently discovered (again, amazing) – we stared in awe. It made us wonder, what other treasures might
be buried underneath the earth’s surface?
After Pit 1, we made our way back to the enormous car park
in search of our driver, pausing momentarily to play on some fun-looking park
equipment, which we saw in one form or another in most public parks in
Southeast Asia.
On the way back, we stopped to visit the Big Goose Pagoda,
which is located outside of the old city walls in “new” Xi’an. Note that we did not stop at the silk factory
(where our driver could have gotten a FULL tank of gas in exchange for 30
minutes of our time) despite several overtures about how spectacular it was.
Unusually square in its dimensions, the Big Goose Pagoda is
a Buddhist pagoda that was built in the 7th century during the Tang dynasty and
used to hold sutras and figurines of the Buddha brought to China from India by
Xuanzang, a famous Chinese Buddhist monk.
There, we explored the grounds (beautiful halls occupied by giant golden
statues of Buddha and his disciples) and climbed to the top of Big Goose for
some nice views.
Apart from our excursion to see the warriors and Big Goose,
we did a lot of foot exploration around Xi’an.
Our favorite, and in our opinion, the most interesting part of town is
the Muslim quarter, which sits behind the Drum Tower – a tower built in the
14th century, which got its name from the drums that it houses. The drums were traditionally used at dusk to
signify the end of the day. The nearby
Bell Tower, on the other hand, houses bells traditionally used at dawn to
signify the start of the day.
The main artery of the Muslim quarter is a busy, tree-lined
pedestrian street lined with Chinese Muslim restaurants serving everything from
dumplings to kebabs. (Aman and I fell
head-over-heels in love with Chinese-Muslim food while we were in China.)
In the Muslim quarter, we wandered down a smaller, even
busier alley to the left of the main street, which was lined with women standing
underneath umbrellas, and selling various types of street food, dried spices, tea,
walnuts, almonds, dates and other dried fruits.
Baskets and heaping piles of everything. It was fun to simply meander around such
fascinating surroundings.
Off the busy alleyway, we encountered an even smaller alley
leading to the Great Mosque of Xi’an, one of the oldest mosques in China. No minarets or domes, it was interesting to
see a mosque with so much Chinese architectural influence in its design.
After four nights of exploring the ancient capital city
(more than enough time to see everything Xi’an has to offer), it was time to
return to the train station and move on to Shanghai. Another long overnight haul, for this train
ride, we had two lower sleeping berths in a first class cabin that we shared
with two Chinese women. Not as comfy as
the ride in, but not bad either. As we
pulled away from the station, we watched the passing landscape - the countryside was
blanketed with purplish-white lilac bushes in full bloom and dotted with the
occasional factory or gray factory town.
Aman and I passed our time on the train much the same way as
we did during the previous ride – playing cards and listening to music. We ventured out to
the café car at one point – curious to see what if anything was going on. What we found was a train car full of locals,
and one empty table, which we quickly grabbed.
When the waitress came over, Aman ordered two beers. The waitress came back minutes later with the
beers and our tab. After Aman paid, she explained in broken English that we could not sit because we were
not eating. And, by broken English, I
mean: “No eat, no sit.” We got up,
perplexed but amused, as a group of locals rushed by to take our table. We stood in the corner of the café car for a
bit, while the locals peered over their shoulders to stare at us, thinking of
possible reasons why we were the only ones asked to get up. To be sure, not every table was eating.
Our train arrived early the next morning in Shanghai. Exhausted (it was not a bad train ride per se; there is just something tiring
about overnight train rides), Aman and I found our way out of the station and
went straight for the nearest taxi stand.
It was a quick ride to our hotel, which was located in Puxi, a couple of
blocks west from the Huangpu River.
We stumbled upon Nanjing Road, in search of breakfast, and
found the most amazing street food vendors on Guang Xi Bei Lu. Dumplings, steamed buns, crepes… after being
blown away on the first day, we made this stop a morning habit… followed by a
visit to the hotel gym, shortly thereafter.
Although we only had a short time (three nights) in Shanghai,
we covered a good amount of ground. On
the first day, we strolled down East Nanjing Road, which is one of the busier
shopping streets in Shanghai. Lots of
big stores and designer names – I’m not sure why it surprised us to pass three
Starbucks in 500 meters, but we did.
Along the way, men hoping to sell us knockoff watches relentlessly
approached us with murmurs of “watch, watch, watch…” It reminded me of crossing Broadway at Canal
Street in lower Manhattan where the sales pitch is “bag, bag, bag…” The younger generation would zoom up to us
with wheels attached to their sneakers, open a bag of similar sneaker
attachments and look at us questioningly, as if to say “don’t you want a
pair?” No thanks, no thanks, we told
just about anyone who approached us on Nanjing Road.
We stopped in People’s Park on the way to visit the Museum
of Contemporary Art (MOCA). In the park,
friendly teenagers ran up and invited us to "traditional Chinese tea
ceremonies." (We were warned about this
scam by numerous guidebooks.) Wow, we
thought, doesn’t everyone in this town have a hustle? No thanks, no thanks, we kept telling
everyone.
In any event, the MOCA was a worthwhile stop. The museum had a group exhibition of works by
different artists from China, Taiwan, Korea and Japan. The theme, and name of the exhibit, was
“Nostalgia.” Some of the works were more
memorable than others. One of our
favorites was a series of photographs called My Age of Seven by Korean artist
Seoung Won Won. Surreal stuff.
From the park, we kept strolling down West Nanjing Road and
into the French Concession area where we heard that we would find some good
restaurants and bars. As an aside, Aman
and I were overwhelmingly delighted with the food that we found in China. It reminded us that there really is no such
thing as “Chinese food.” The cuisine in
China varies widely according to region, and we tried a bit of everything: Chinese Muslim, Yunnan, Hunan, Shanghainese, Sichuan,
etc. Some of the best restaurants we
tried were Crescent Moon (Beijing, Chinese Muslim), Taste (Beijing, Yunnan),
First Noodle Under the Sun (Xi’an, Noodles), Sichuan Citizen (Shanghai,
Sichuan), Shanghai Grandmother (Shanghai, Shanghainese), and Di Shui Dong (Shanghai,
Hunan). Delicious!
After an amazing meal at Sichuan Citizen, Aman and I were on
the move again. This time, we were
walking in the direction of the Bund, the famous waterfront area overlooking the
Huangpu River and, on the opposite riverbank, the Pudong area of Shanghai. It was evening by now, and we had been tipped
off that the Bund is beautiful to visit at night. Not exactly the Manhattan skyline, but it is
quite pretty.
And, the Pudong skyline reminded us, in a way, of Times
Square…
We explored and discovered several other neighborhoods over
the next two days.
Streets of Old Flea Market, full of commie kitsch:
Restored Shikumen Lanes of Xintiandi:
Before we knew it, we were out of days and it was time to
go. With two and a half weeks of crazy
experiences that we will cherish for a lifetime, we were leaving mainland China and moving on to Hong
Kong.
Of course, in keeping with the theme of our travels through
China, we went to the airport via train.
The Maglev train, that is. At
300+ kilometers an hour, it cornered like an amusement park ride. Awesome.
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