Eldon-Online

A Traveller's Tale

The highly entertaining Nury Vittachi, columnist, compére, wit and observer of some of the more bizarre things in life used to write a regular column in the Far Eastern Economic Review called Travellers' Tales; having such things in it as the classic and still passed around (with variations) today, of the "Morny, ruin sorbees"* conversation in a Bangkok hotel. Well, apologies, Nury, I sort of plagiarised it for this Blog today, just because it fits my purpose.

If you travel as much as I seem to be doing, you have to expect the odd "difficult" experience at airports and with airlines and with immigration and particularly with security. If you smile at them they think you are acting unnaturally and if you don't smile, you're obviously behaving suspiciously! The law of averages itself would see to it that somewhere down the line you will fall foul of something or someone. But I guess I have either become anesthetised to the problems so I don't notice them, or if it really is something out of my control then any amount of screaming and shouting isn't going to change anything - so I don't.

Having worked all my life (so far, anyway) in the service industry, I am only too well aware of the things that can go wrong, and that the nearest person you want to take it out on often had nothing to do with the problem. Equally, those complaint letters that find their way into the newspapers seem, in many cases, to be about trivial things and if you ever get into the detail, the complainant was quite regularly a contributing factor to the problem - although you can't tell them that! 

So a word in defence of our local airline - Cathay Pacific - who appear with some regularity in the local press but who last week got me off a plane in Hong Kong that was late in from Kuala Lumpur (arrived gate 62) on to the train, through transit and security, and onto a London flight (departing from gate 1) in 18 minutes flat. Now that's service!

 And before you start getting all - "well he flies a lot so they are bound to take care of him" or, "he flies up the front of the aircraft, so of course they look after him" - get back in your seats! Perhaps only the "he flies a lot" would have any weight - none of the rest of it is true. There was another passenger also going for the same London flight. In addition there were three passengers catching a Los Angeles flight who were afforded the same courtesy. 

I had already accepted the fact that the inbound flight was going to be late in arriving, and while on board the crew had made arrangements for me to catch the midnight flight to London. But on arrival at the gate the Cathay staff were there - and having clearly stated there were no guarantees - off we went. But the wider point here is this. It was not just the cooperation of the airline - it was the fact that the transport system at the airport works so well, and that the security services were also willing to help. And I can think of plenty of airports around the world where that just would not happen!!

 So, thank you Cathay and thank you Airport Authority.

And on the subject of travel, I wonder how many of you read and swear by the comments on the web site Trip Advisor.  I must confess, I do go through them from time to time as I had generally thought they were a useful source of background information. But then I recalled some news articles recently about the "unreliability" of the sites. The UK's Advertising Standards Authority raised serious concerns that not all the reports were genuine, and placed some restrictions on the claims being made by Trip Advisor. So not quite as independent as you might think. 

I am a firm believer in reporting and feedback, as long as it is fair and objective. Criticism is fine - it enables action to be taken, but I have just watched a programme about some of the people who go to various establishments to comment - particularly on Trip Advisor, and oh my goodness!

One "critic" put a pencil mark on the bottom corner of a sheet so he could check whether the hotel changed the sheets or not. Other than it being environmentally unfriendly to wash sheets too often - not something he considered, he said the reason he was concerned was because he had a skin condition and needed his sheets changed regularly. Fair enough, perhaps, but did he think he should tell the hotel about this? Oh no. It was up to them to enquire, he said.

He was the same person who reported negatively on hotel service when he was brought a gin and tonic, instead of a gin and lemonade. The drink was changed immediately and with apologies, but no, the later report marked the establishment down for poor service. (Even his Granny, who was with him at the time, thought it was a bit harsh)

He apparently did not get on very well at school, was bullied, was not academically gifted (I can relate to that!) and was not considered to be good at anything much. But as a "critic" he had found something he was really good at!! You can form your own opinions.

 All I have to say on the subject is that if you are planning a trip and Trip Advisor is your sole guide, maybe you should be digging a little broader and deeper.

* Morny, ruin sorbees - Morning, room service!

 

Winter Breaks, Books, Schools ... and a Gin Too Many?

Being retired has its advantages, I discover, as I can stretch my breaks away from the office a little more than I used to, ensuring that I return refreshed and eager to contribute once again. Having said that, of course, the emails don't actually stop, and being of traditional upbringing I find it difficult not to respond to at least some of them - even if I am getting better at switching off (me included!) for longer periods of time.

The recent lack of Blog activity has been occasioned by such a winter break. In the UK to begin with, entertaining the seemingly indefatigable Mary with the happy presence of every single one the family who joined us from Hong Kong and Australia. It was then on to the Indian Ocean and in particular South Africa, returning to Hong Kong just in time to catch the tail end of the Chinese New Year holidays.

One of the joys of taking a break includes the ability to catch up with some reading, and on this trip one book was a standout for me. If you have any interest at all in the history of Hong Kong, then may I commend to you a very excellent book by Patricia Lim entitled "Forgotten Souls" - A Social History of the Hong Kong Cemetery.

I know, it sounds macabre and deadly boring but for someone whose holiday reading usually consists of things decidely low-brow if not lighter and totally mindless, this book had me reading every page with considerable care. Published in 2011 by the Hong Kong University Press the book is a wonder of 20 years research conducted by Ms Lim. Reading it, a picture emerges from the swamp that was Hong Kong about the origins of this city, and what life was like for at least a certain section of the community. All gleaned from the records of the day supported by the characters who were laid to rest in the Christian cemetery. A lot of names will be familiar to you - even if you have only been here a short while. 

The front cover of the book, showing the cemetery and the racecourse is from the Illustrated London News of 5 May 1866. The picture shown below was painted in 1867 by a Captain Roberts and is almost identical, except for the addition of some buildings on the racecourse.

And so to Africa. One of the things we did there was to visit a school that we have helped financially. It was quite an experience, and in due course I will be happy to share with you what other people are doing elsewhere on this planet to improve the lives of the children who make up our future - whatever their colour, their religion and their circumstances.

And thence to Hong Kong, where we return to catch up with local and international news.

Pictures of Chief Secretary Henry Tang in boxing gear ready physically, it seems, to take on all-comers - but baulking at the idea of debating with his opponent(s) - at least for the time being, he says! Come on Henry, I think we would all like to hear what the candidates have to say for themselves, even if we are not going to get the chance to cast a vote - this time round, anyway. And US Republican candidate Newt Gingrich promising to colonise the moon for the USA. Our own CEO Donald Tsang telling Europe to pull its socks up (quite right too Donald). 

But of all the recent headlines I have seen, the one in Saturday's SCMP "Ex-official blames wine for dubious stock buy" was the one that will take some beating for the title of "Poorest Excuse For Breaking the Law" in 2012. I suppose that as the case is in court, and I am relying on the media reports, it would be inappropriate for me to comment too much - but what does it say for the standards of corporate governance in this city when we get non-executive directors like this? A former senior official at that. And if the official concerned had, as the newspaper report suggests, already been made aware of the price sensitive information - then he must have a very short memory as to which boards he was sitting on - and he probably doesn't sit on many. 

It doesn't actually matter that the subsequent profit was, apparently, donated to charity. I just hope we may be able to learn which charities were the beneficiaries - just to be certain that is where the money did go - and to know the dates when the payments were made. It was an act that was - on the face of it so far - just plain stupid. Of course everyone under our excellent judicial system is innocent until and unless found guilty, but if this case goes against the official concerned, I have an excellent book for him to read while he has time on his hands. (See above!!)

And if the above story wins the prize for "Poor Excuses", the prize for "Most accurate hindsight" goes to the Fung Shui master who has predicted the Year of the Dragon will be a bad one for the late Steve Jobs. I mean how much worse can it get already - he died in October!  

It's good to be back!

Kung Hei Fat Choy.

 

One Eye On The World ...

I have always subscribed to the view, even before taking a break became mandatory for corporate governance and insurance purposes - "Ah, yes, if Eldon's away from the office for 15 consecutive days we can find out what malpractice he has been involved with..." - that everyone should take time off. The best sportsmen and women, the best writers all know that you have to re-charge your batteries, and it is no different in business. 

Thus I found myself last week in the southern provinces of France in brilliantly clear and blue skies, with a day time temperature of 36° C, actually enjoying big supermarkets where you could both Park and  Shop and find a huge array of goods in them, wishing that someone in Hong Kong would find a big piece of land somewhere in the old run down industrial areas in Kowloon and do something similar. But if that was the biggest of my worries last week I think I must have been truly relaxed, although the global headlines were creating enough news to make one sit up and take notice.

The dreadful tragedy of the German concert that saw such an unnecessary loss of life, the remarkable news that Barcelona was to ban bull-fighting (a move I personally applaud), the concerns that America still thinks it has the right to summon whomsoever it wants from another sovereign power to be insulted by a Senate Committee, and from the same country rising concerns that the US growth was shown to have contracted sharply in the second quarter. (I would love to say this should not exactly be a surprise - I have said as much in previous blogs - and people much more erudite and intelligent than me in Asia have had similar views for some time, but the hopeful voices of politicians still want people to believe that all is well). Get real, folks. Be cynical about the numbers - many of which are adjusted (negatively) in the small print the following quarter.

By the way - I do sympathise with those who question the release of Al Megrahi, although if the man had died within the predicted three months there would not be so much fuss today. I have a friend in Hong Kong who was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer some 7 years ago and given less than six months to live. He is still with us! That, in his particular circumstances, is a cause for rejoicing. Al Megrahi should never have been released from prison in my personal opinion - but this "in hindsight" investigation is not going to achieve very much - but is very likely to strain relations that should not otherwise be strained.

But it's now briefly back to London and the summer (which they may actually have had before I got here), we are faced with the news of Mr Li Ka-shing's successful acquisition of a company here, the Mayor of London's "Cycle Through London" scheme (something you can get away with in the British capital because they don't have to contend with Hong Kong minibus drivers), Prime Minister Cameron's "open and frank" condemnations of Israel and Pakistan - which have won him a few new friends but lost him others - and the opening of a new bank!

Given the fact that bankers in Britain still rank in popularity somewhere between theNorth Korean World Cup soccer team in Pyongyang and BP in America, the opening of a brand new bank - the first in London for over 100 years has certainly raised some eyebrows. It may not be exciting, and its business products may not be new and innovative - but it is only going to be closed for four days of the year, will open from 8 a.m to 8 p.m, will print and give you your credit card on the spot, and take only 15 minutes to open an account. In fact, they seem to have adopted a rather unique approach to banking in that they are there to serve the customer. Now, actually, how innovative is that? - Oh, and did I mention the water bowls for dogs?

You know, holidays are a good thing but there is so much going on out there - serious and the not so serious - that you still have to keep one eye on the world!

Havana Good Time!

Birthday parties aside, my recent lack of Blog activity has been due my undertaking a long awaited trip to Cuba - (followed by a stop in Dubai - about which a little more later)!

Cuba - what a great trip it was. For nationals of countries that are permitted and are able to go for a visit, I recommend you do so - but do it sooner rather than later.

Any opening up of the country due to a change in relations with the USA (although recent comments by President Raul Castro seem to put that likelihood further on the back-burner) will result in a number of conflicting situations. The additional money that will inevitably pour in will be welcome, but only if it ends up being widely distributed and therefore ultimately ends up in the right hands, rather than in the pockets of a few. The modernisation programme that will, or should follow, could bring new state of the art and user-friendly buildings and facilities to the country, but will this be at the expense of the existing, beautiful architecture where the only real problem seems to be general (and in some cases chronic) dilapidation? A sympathetic restoration programme would create in Havana a city of huge appeal. But will the pace of change be so fast that the inhabitants will lose their character, their easy going charm and amazing good nature - replacing it with greed and an increased crime rate? 

On crime, I have to be honest, I walked down some pretty dark streets quite late at night but at no time did I feel I was vulnerable to danger - maybe I was stupid, perhaps I was lucky, but other visitors I spoke to seemed to have the same positive experience. And every city in the world that you visit has areas that are "no go" anyway. I am sure that Havana is no different.

Getting to Cuba in the first place is not hugely difficult - unless you are determined to enter via the USA. In that event, swimming will be your best bet - as long as you can keep your visa dry. Canadian airports, Latin American, and of course European gateways all offer a variety of almost daily services. (And don't forget; if you are leaving from Europe remember to fly from a non-British airport, as your airport tax will be considerably lower - or non-existent). Visas, not stamped in your passport in case you end up in an immigration line where you will be viewed suspiciously, seemed easy to obtain. We got ours in Hong Kong. 

Once on the ground you sort out your currency, and off you go. Oh, "sorting out the currency" takes a little getting used to. Cuba is a cash society. If you have a credit card (as long as it's not on a US bank), you can occasionally use it in hotels, depending on how well the systems are running at the time. Friends who were with us even found it difficult to use their UK Bank cards, but happily good old Hong Kong came to the rescue and our cards were well accepted - except we hardly used them as all credit card transactions "attract" at least a 10% surcharge.

And then you have to negotiate your way through the "problem" of paying for things. This is a cash society with a difference. Two currencies; one name. The Peso (Convertible) is for the tourist and the Peso (National Money) is for local trade. As a foreigner you will generally use the Convertible Peso (the CUC). Easily changed at the airport, in hotels and at the various exchanges around town. 

But look, all of this can be found in the very excellent Lonely Planet Guide for Cuba and, I am sure, other guides too but our "Planet" was certainly up to date and informative.

For us - Havana was an experience not to be missed. Pedestrian only streets, great music, but do not go with high expectations of a gourmet paradise. The food is basic, "comfort food" in many cases, and you can eat in people's homes. The choice is not huge, but palatable. Our favourite "home" was Doña Carmela out near the Fort (visit the firing of the 9 p.m. gun at the Fort and then head down to Carmela afterwards - reservations needed, as it's popular). Our favourite bar was La Lluvia de Oro on Obispo Street. The band they had in there the nights we visited was really good, and I am told they have been around a while. Ride the 1950s Cadillacs, visit the museums, tip a CUC here and a CUC there - you will suddenly find barriers removed in Museums. And relax.

One week in Havana? Too long probably unless you have special interests - but we got out and visited Viñales, as well as Pina de Mar - and on the next visit (yes, we must go back), we want to get to Trinidad (the city in Cuba, not the Island) and Santiago de Cuba.

Visit the bars that Hemingway frequented, but drink in the bars he didn't; the prices don't have the Hemingway premium price tag - and do visit Hemingway's house. It's worth a look.

Havin' a good time in Havana? You bet.

Travels in China - Part Six: The Conclusion (by Paul Eldon)

March On! March On! On!

We had been in far western China for one week travelling in what I would argue was out of our comfort zone. Although the journey had been a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience, the beds were hard and the roads even harder. While we boldly sampled everything, the food was not always to everyone's palate. The days were full and exhausting. The gin smuggled from Hong Kong (and the local brews) had been much needed nightly elixirs and, honestly, I think we were all looking forward to our last stop - Xi'an.

Xi'an (split by an apostrophe in pinyin to encourage the speaker to articulate the two characters 西 [xi - west] and 安 [an - peace], otherwise it runs together as 'xian' which, depending on how you say it could mean a whole host of other things including 'first', 'salty', 'conspicuous' or 'county') holds a special place in Chinese history. For two thousand years it was the imperial capital of China, the start of the Silk Road and home to eleven dynasties of emperor. In Europe as the Western Roman Empire fell, the Visigoths asserted their dominance and the west entered the Dark Ages, the Tang Dynasty Buddhist monk Xuan Zang set off from Xi'an on his remarkable fifteen-year sojourn to India, bringing back countless Buddhist texts and whose flaming mountains described in "Journey to the West" we saw in Turpan. After falling out of favour with the Ming emperors, in the chronicles of early 20th century Chinese history Xi'an once again opened its arms to embrace leading figures of the time including the Empress Dowager Cixi and Generalissimo Jiang Jieshi better known as Chiang Kai-shek. The former fled to the city and set up her court in exile for two years after her ill-advised support of the Boxer Rebellion, while the latter was arrested in 1936 during the civil war in what would become known as the Xi'an incident. So if you like history, as I do, there is certainly a lot to think about when in the left corner of China's travel triangle (Beijing-Shanghai-Xi'an).

In my infinite wisdom I had made reservations at the Kempinski Hotel both because I figured we'd be ready for some Egyptian cotton sheets and because of the Chengdu connection, which I hoped would work in our favour. Although I can't fault the hotel in the above two regards I had failed to notice that it was based out in the boonies giving us a handy 40 minute minibus ride into the centre of Xi'an and the famed walled city.

Like walking on the Great Wall outside of Beijing, rambling atop the 14km (restored) ramparts of a structure originally constructed in 1370 is an emotive experience; modern China juxtaposed against its ancient ancestor. It is possible to complete a circuit in just over 90 minutes on bikes, but instead we enjoyed a journey between the Yongning Gate in the south and Anding Gate in the west in rickshaws pulled by jovial and helpful drivers. We descended the wall and entered the city eventually finding ourselves in the Muslim quarter. Although we'd been exposed to China's Muslim culture in Xinjiang the hustle and bustle of the winding alleys of the quarter were as fascinating as if it were our first time. Food vendors and souvenir sellers hawked their fare in loud voices while our senses were assaulted by the smells and sounds of the lunchtime rush. It wasn't long before our stomachs joined the caterwauling and we sat down at an open front restaurant to enjoy a Xi'an speciality - paomo, a meaty soup poured over tiny bread cubes. Despite the vast size of each bowl (another bonus of Chinese cuisine) and the questionable hygiene of the chosen establishment it was mouth-wateringly delicious, and I was sorry that it was the first and only time I enjoyed the dish.

The primary reason for a trip to Xi'an is the visit the tomb, and terracotta soldiers that guard it, of the Qin emperor Qin Shi Huang (246 - 221 BC), the first emperor of a unified China. It is staggering. Not only for the scale of the entire site but the details of each warrior where no two faces are the same. The restoration work carried out is a marvel in itself as each figure has been painstakingly put back together since they were discovered in fragments. It would take generations to rebuild every warrior but the few hundred or so of the ones on display give you a good enough idea of what it would have been like. The tomb was discovered in 1974 by some peasants who were digging a well and, as an added bonus, when we visited the gift shop one of the chaps was there signing coffee table books about the exhibit. You are not allowed to take his photograph, not does he seem to respond to questions but it was fun to add a signed copy to my guide-book collection. It's a fascinating but tiring few hours and an important stop on any China trip. Equally fascinating and tiring is the Shaanxi History Museum which we ventured into after a filling dumpling lunch. It's a very well put together museum and, I have to say, I think Beijing could learn a thing or two from some of its provincial cousins. (If Shenyang, Xi'an and even Dunhuang can do it there's no reason why Beijing can't.) We were led around the museum by a rather formidable young woman who had strong views about China's impact on global history. Although I'm not disagreeing with everything she said, I do rather feel that her rabid nationalism might work against her when she travels to Paris later this year to tour the museums. To her credit she's passionate about what she does and at least she's heading overseas to learn from others as well.

China "Experience" Rating: 8/10.

As one of China's top three travel destinations Xi'an is using its tourist dollar income extremely effectively and is a pleasant and worthwhile trip.

Epilogue.

After a 5,000 mile round trip from Hong Kong to the Kazakh border I believe China to be a captivating country, and I do hope that foreigners will travel to the Middle Kingdom and see past the Communist badge that, make no mistake, is worn contentedly by many millions, but which rarely impinges on a visitor's journey. The Chinese are a proud, friendly and inquisitive people. While we all have stories about being hoodwinked and bamboozled by an unscrupulous few it's somewhere that is as enjoyable to visit and, I'll wager, more diverse in its topography and customs as Italy, France or the USA. It has gleaming metropolises and dirty peasant villages. It's somewhere where history is everywhere and nowhere. It was a place I called home for eight years. It really is a people's republic.

Travels in China...Part Five (by Paul Eldon)

The Edge of Empire 

We decided to do something a little different to travel between Turpan and our next port of call, Dunhuang (Gansu Province).  Whereas before we had flown between our destinations or, in the case of Urumqi – Turpan driven, this time I had elected to take the train.  So many people will (rightly) tell you that travelling by train is one of the best ways to see a country.  Regrettably our departure was late in the evening, after the sun had set and the landscape had retreated under its duvet, meaning we saw nothing of the countryside and only the inside of a communist carriage.  You may think what you will of me but this was actually the first time I had taken a train in China and, I’m sorry to say, it was rather disappointing.  Earlier this year I spent a couple of weeks in India travelling between my various ports of call on India’s vast railway network.  The shabby carriages that imprisoned me for the better part of  two days (all up) were a highlight of the trip.  But on my Chinese choo-choo it was all just a little too, well, clean.  The President of The Surly Association of Train Attendants showed us to our cabins and, after a couple of warm beers and some "two minute" noodles we drifted off to sleep in our cells.

 As many who are reading this will know, one of the joys of travel are the well-considered timetables of transportation authorities worldwide.  We arrived in Dunhuang at 5:30am after, what the Group all agreed, was not the most restful of sleeps.  Actually, that’s not entirely accurate.  We arrived in a town called Liu Yuan – some 130km from Dunhuang where we were met by our Han Chinese guide Henry.  (Dunhuang was supposed to have its own railway station but, despite assurances from guide books, at the time of our visit it hadn’t opened yet.)  I can honestly say that the drive was possibly the worst travel experience of my life to date.  And I think those more accustomed to the pointy parts of planes probably found the journey excruciating.  The road – if you can call it that – G215 is a new addition to China’s extensive road network and was built atop the sand of the Gobi desert.  We were thrown around that bus like toys hurled from the cot of a tempestuous toddler.  For two hours.  And before that Henry gabbed at us for 30 minutes solid, possibly without pausing for a single breath.  I can’t fault his command of English but by all the ancestral spirits of China, move over Richard Quest and Lyse Doucet, he may actually have the most annoying voice in the world.  Through no real fault of his own you can probably imagine that once we finally arrived in Dunhuang he was as popular as a bakery at a clinic for diabetics.

 The two main draws of Dunhuang are the impressively dramatic sand dunes on the outskirts of the city and the staggeringly beautiful Mogao Grottoes.  We began our day at the former (after a disastrous and farcical breakfast which didn’t help our already bruised moods) where a few of us rode the short distance to Yueya Quan (Crescent Moon Lake) on camels and the rest were ferried by electric buggy.  The soaring dunes around us teemed with other tour groups sand tobogganing, paragliding and lolloping along in their own camel trains.  Dad and I had a go at sliding down a dune on a wooden sled with one of us faring better than the other.  I’ll leave it to you to decide who it was - but it wasn’t me.  Crescent Moon Lake is decidedly unremarkable, and the buildings we saw around the water were reconstructions after the originals were destroyed during the tumultuous years of the Cultural Revolution.  Henry was able to prattle on endlessly for 20 minutes when really all that you need to know of interest is that Yueya Quan is first mentioned in documents dating back 2,000 years.  The Mogao Grottoes (also known as the Mogao Caves) are without question a must-see in China.  Originally over 1,000 caves contained murals and Buddhist artwork and imagery, supposedly dating back to AD 366.  There are approximately 600 caves left although many are now closed to visitors.  The history of the caves is a fascinating one and would take up far too much space to go into detail here, but I do recommend doing a little independent research.  For an additional fee on top of the entry ticket you can be taken around a few of the caves by a guide and this is well worth the money.  Our friendly guide was tremendously well informed and spoke flawless English.  I was also struck by the way in which tours were conducted.  For anyone who has been to China one of the things that strikes you about the culture is the noise.  It’s a very loud country and sometimes even the most banal of conversations are undertaken as though the speakers are stood in the middle of a typhoon.  But even the larger Chinese tour groups moved through the caves in awed silence.  The usual hustle and bustle of daily life in the People’s Republic also melted away and jostling crowds gave way to ordered queuing.  It’s arguable that the horrendous journey from Liu Yuan to Dunhuang was made worth it by the few hours we spent looking at the evolution of Chinese art from the Jin to the Ming Dynasties.

 The following day we drove the 6 hours to Jiayuguan – the location of the last fort on the Great Wall and the edge of the world in ancient China.  Before that there was time to sample Dunhuang’s local donkey delicacy which I found quite pleasing to mine palate.  It wasn’t to everyone’s taste – especially not at breakfast – but I was pleased to add it to my list of weird and wonderful creatures that I have consumed joining silkworm and scorpion among others.  Mercifully, although long, the road was silkily smooth and we arrived in good time for us to take in the gargantuan fort.  It wasn’t hard to imagine how, back in the day, a soldier posted to guard the frontier must have felt he had slighted the emperor.  Although now joined by modern factories a bleak and desolate landscape was the vista enjoyed by the thousands of defenders of the Son of Heaven.  It had been our intention to travel by train the remaining leg of our expedition, but after the discomfort of our previous experience we changed our plans and decided to fly into Xi’an.  Returning deep into developed China, and to one of the more popular destinations on travellers’ itineraries, we bade farewell to Patti (who, by this time was in desperate need of ablution) and Henry and I resumed the mantle of flag-waving tour guide.

 

“China Experience” Rating (Dunhuang): 7/10

It was worth the trip and I would recommend going before the onset of mass tourism.

 

“China Experience” Rating (Jiayuguan): 8/10

I wouldn’t bother going unless you have an interest in history because outside of the fort, it’s booming, industrial China in a all its factory belching goodness.

Travels In China ... Part Four (by Paul Eldon)

Out with the Old, In with the New

Now then, where were we?  Ah yes.  We had witnessed the ritual of buying and selling livestock as wizened old men with flowing beards, operating as middlemen, knowingly oversaw the transaction.  We watched, enthralled, as donkeys and horses were put through their paces by their potential new masters.  We deftly avoided tripping over severed goats’ heads and, in stunned silence (well, not quite silence – middle aged people do “ooh” and “aah” a lot), drank in the experience of centuries of tradition.  And that was before lunch.

 For lunch our affable guide Patti took us for a meal with a local family.  That is to say the local family made it and we ate it.  It was a privilege and an experience to be invited into their home.  The family were so generous and friendly and, if you’ve been to a Middle Eastern restaurant, then you might also be able to picture the dining experience.  The décor was gaudy, the floor uncomfortable (what chairs?) and the food plentiful and delicious.

In the afternoon we visited the site of the original market, which was unfortunately, nowhere near as interesting as the morning experience.  If you travelled to Beijing pre-2003 you might remember that the Silk Market used to be a noisy, crowded place crammed into a few narrow alleyways.  For some reason the poor quality and cheapness of the items for sale are heightened now that the stalls have been relocated into a shiny, glass mall.  Although lacking coffee shops and escalators the Kashgar Central Market did remind me of the “modernisation" efforts of municipal governments across China; smart aisles and individual stalls replacing what, I’m sure back in the day used to be the most tremendous hullabaloo.  I did, however, end up making a few purchases – toothpaste (rule #1: if there’s no readable language on the packaging, don’t buy it), some cloth slippers (rule #2: it’s inevitable that the one thing you’ve been searching for in Beijing for the past 6 years should turn up – in your size – at a marketplace some 4,600km away) and an astrakhan hat (rule #3: never, ever listen to yourself when you say you’ll wear/use ethnic clothing away from your holiday destination).

 The modern city of Kashgar is built around the central old city, a collection of crumbling clay houses and a maze of old world customs.  The local government has declared that the old city is at risk from earthquake damage and so the rule is, we were told, that repairs are forbidden.  Once a building collapses the occupants are forced to relocate to new housing complexes conveniently located on the outskirts of town.  This is not new, nor exclusive to ethnic minority housing.  It is happening all across China.  I myself was witness to it in Beijing with the demolition of the old hutongs but, as someone who enjoys history and the preservation of cultures, it is still difficult to understand and disappointing to watch.  Perhaps because of Kashgar’s immemorial standing as an old Silk Road trading post it was even more devastating.  As we passed through the city we saw blacksmiths toiling in front of their roasting ovens; carpenters whittling away at their wares; we smelled and saw varicoloured spices on display; and through it all the smiling, welcoming faces of local merchants and tradesmen, children and families bartering, chatting and going about their lives as their parents, grandparents and (probably) great-great grandparents did.  We cleared the old city and re-entered the 21^st Century, standing in the central plaza in front of the Id Kah Mosque.  It was here that I began to think about the difficult issue of autonomy.  (I will post a separate entry on my own blog in due course about this and related issues.)

 “Time: the indefinite progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.”  Seems oxymoronic really to say that time moves on in a place like Kashgar but, alas, it does and it did and we prepared to move on to Turpan, a desert city about 3 hours drive outside of Urumqi.  Before we left I asked that we drive through People’s Square so that I could photograph the Great Helmsman.  Why?  Because it’s the biggest statue of Mao Zedong in China.  If they won’t come willingly...

Abdul (you’ll remember him as the agent I dealt with previously) had decided that his younger brother Patti (the jovial young Uyghur lad) should join us.  As I understood it Mohamed, the guide who would meet us in Urumqi, was either new to the organisation or needed watching over and so, in the absence of objection from the Group, along he came.  And it’s a jolly good thing he did too!  Firstly, we arrived at our hotel in Turpan only to find it was closed.  The replacement was foul and had no in-room air conditioning, so I got a little stroppy.  We ended up at a far more appropriate establishment.  The second reason why Patti needed to keep an eye on him is because, well, Mohamed isn’t a very good Muslim.  The two of us drank far too much beer than was good for us in a desert environment.  Turpan is the hottest place in all of the Republic.  I believe it also lays claim to being the coldest as well which is a clever trick. That’s about as interesting as it gets.  Well, that and the story of Xuanzang and the Journey to the West which meant a visit to the ancient, ruined city of Jiaohe – a genuinely fascinating place with gates, temples, public buildings, graveyards and simple houses still evident.  It seems that it’s also home to a particularly lethargic snake.  We arrived as the sun was setting over the burning mountains and there was a genuine feeling of how impressive this city must have once been.  But really, that’s about it.

 “China Experience” Rating (Kashgar): 3/10

If it wasn’t for the colossal statue of Mao it would have been awarded 1/10 by merit of the character signage.

“Life Experience” Rating (Kashgar): 10/10

If you can make the trip it's well worth it. Definitely a top 3 of my travel experiences to date.

 “China Experience” Rating (Turpan): 5/10

It certainly still felt like a Uyghur city but Mohamed, Patti and I were joined by the Han Chinese owner of the bar. And he didn’t speak Uyghur. Or English.

Travels in China...Part Three (By Paul Eldon)

“Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety”

                                                 - Antony and Cleopatra

by William Shakespeare

I am going to start with perhaps something a little controversial. 

I read with dismay about the recent trouble in Urumqi, Xinjiang between the Han Chinese and the Uyghur people, but I can’t say I am surprised that it happened. I am neither a political commentator, nor am I an active campaigner for causes, but just let me state that in my opinion I believe that the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region has a strong case for independence. Xinjiang is the least Chinese of any of the places that I’ve been to on the mainland, and perhaps because of it, one of the most fascinating and it is here that we pick up our story.

 When I was in the process of planning the trip months back, my original intent was to spend a couple of days in Urumqi in order to visit Tian Chi, or Heavenly Lake which I had heard was stunning.  But from some information I found in the Financial Times about a couple who had traveled from London by train, I discovered a gentleman called Abdul Wahab (based in Kashgar) who had helped them book tickets. So, rather sensibly I thought, I contacted him to help us as, unsurprisingly, Mandarin Chinese isn’t as widely spoken that far west.  Abdul talked me out of visiting Heavenly Lake – and of spending any time in Urumqi actually – arguing that it really was “just another Chinese city”.  So we simply passed through the capital on our way to Kashgar where we would visit Lake Karakul (some 6,000ft above sea level) and where we needed to be for the Sunday Market, a weekly market that draws hundreds of thousands of vendors and visitors from all over the region including Kazakhstan and Pakistan.

 Kashgar – or Kashi in Chinese pinyin – is an astonishing city steeped in history and tradition and it didn’t fail to impress us all.  Snow capped mountains fringe the edge of the burg providing a stunning backdrop to the surrounding landscape.  There is very little visible Chinese influence in Kashgar. Sure, although there are signs in characters everywhere, and the road signs only print the local Uyghur script very small in contrast to the giant simplified text next to it, the place is very much a Uyghur city.

 Upon arrival we were met at the airport by a delightful man who we shall call Patti.  This is, of course, the simplified version of his name.  Like a Venezuelan patriarch his name was considerably longer and utterly unpronounceable to those not versed in the local dialect.  One thing I’ll give him though – his English was superb.  Having spent a considerable amount of time living and working with Han Chinese I can honestly say that I was not expecting a young Uyghur boy from Kashgar to be so proficient in the language.  The hotel on the other hand was, I’ll admit, quite expected; to the jiaozi (or dumplings) for breakfast and the Christmas tree in the bar.  The attempt to make a gin and tonic in a cocktail shaker was not so expected.  On the Saturday we rose early – very early in local time.  Although all of China officially runs on Beijing time, the further west you go the more likely they are to use their local time.  The country theoretically has something like 5 time zones so Xinjiang is actually two hours behind Beijing.  We managed to avoid serious confusion, but it was startling to think that we were leaving the hotel at 8am Beijing time meaning we woke up to get ready and have breakfast at about 5am local time.  The journey time to and from Lake Karakul was about 6 hours so we had a lot of ground to cover.  And what ground!  If I thought that Guangxi was stunning I was staggered by Xinjiang.  In Guangxi I like to think that the vista hasn’t changed much since the Qing Dynasty emperor Kangxi (1662 – 1722) sat on the Dragon Throne.  In Xinjiang I don’t think it has changed much since Peking Man wandered the plains of ancient China.  It wasn’t hard to imagine yourself a modern day Marco Polo (albeit in a heated bus) trundling through the rugged mountains, edges cut to a point by the inexorable advance of glaciers.  The actual lake itself was, for me, uninspiring though you couldn’t help but be bowled over by the living conditions of the Kazakh nomads who inhabit the area.  That night we sampled the local delicacy of pigeon.  And that’s all that needs to be said about that.

 The following day was given over to an experience that I had been looking forward to – not just on this trip but since my arrival in China and I had first heard stories of - the Kashgar Sunday Market.  We were not disappointed.  Well, not really anyway.  In the past (just a couple of years ago actually) the entire central area of Kashgar was given over to the market, which included livestock and any bit of this and that from just about anywhere within camel distance.  I can only postulate as to what the market must have been like when this menagerie was heaped on each other because now there are two sites – one for the livestock, and one for everything else.  As we tried to avoid being defecated, urinated, spat on or kicked by the thousands of sheep, cows, donkeys, horses, goats and whatever else brays, squawks or guffaws, there was an almost oppressive sense of timelessness.  It is quite possible that early traders along the Silk Route witnessed the exact same thing that we did.  It was – in the truest sense of the word – awesome.  I do love “chuan’r”, the Xinjiang kebab.  It’s a good snack food; it’s perfect post pub provender and just generally one of the most delicious things in the world.  Now imagine that the succulent lamb on the stick, coated in a yoghurt sauce and liberally sprinkled with spices was not 20 minutes previously bleating with his chums in the pen opposite.  Heaven.  I said to the Group that I could now leave China a happy man.

 Regrettably the constraints of word counts force me to abandon the tale at this point.  However, I shall continue with the remainder of our stay in Kashgar, our sojourn in Turpan and onwards, back into China proper with Dunhuang and Jiayuguan next week.  After that the conclusion of our adventure in Xi’an and our trip to Emperor Qin Shi’s remarkable terracotta tomb.

 “China Experience” Rating:.... all in good time.  

Travels In China ... Part Two (by Paul Eldon)

Bamboo branches and the pandas who eat them

 

The next stage of our journey moved us deeper into the country to south western Sichuan Province. Known for its spicy cuisine and more recently, tragically, as the epicentre of the devastating earthquake of May 2008, Sichuan – specifically Chengdu and the Giant Panda – is one of the country’s biggest draws. It was primarily for the endangered bear that we travelled to Chengdu because, to be fair, there’s not much else to write home about in the regional capital.

After the relatively modest accommodation afforded in Yangshuo, and before we headed into deepest, darkest Xinjiang, I decided that a couple of nights at Chengdu’s Kempinski Hotel wouldn’t do us any harm. A number of contributing factors had led me to this particular establishment, primary among them its proximity to the Chengdu chapter of my favourite watering hole – The Bookworm. Chengdu is very much a “modern” Chinese city; it has its luxury brand stores (Gucci again topping the list), top 5 star hotels (enter, stage left, The Kempinksi, Shangri-la and Sheraton hotels) and…a giant statue of Chairman Mao in People’s Square. The Great Helmsman stands there, resplendent in flowing winter overcoat and waving in silent benediction to the masses, most of whom are not even aware of his presence. Like I said, a modern Chinese city.

 On the Thursday morning we rose early to go to the Chengdu Panda Breeding Research Center, only 30 – 45 minutes from the hotel. More famous is the Wolong Panda Reserve, but at 3hrs out of the city it didn’t seem practical to visit. Not when you consider that Panda’s are essentially lazy creatures who tend to doze off mid-morning after their breakfast. I know how they feel! So off we popped with our driver, Mr Zhou (I think that was his name – it could have been Chou but he spoke Mandarin with a regional accent so it was hard to tell) who helped us gain entry into the centre (they spell it one way, I another) with a wodge of 2008 tickets. I love China. People can be so resourceful when they have a surplus of something (former U.S. President George.W. Bush might want to take note).

 It wasn’t long before we caught a glimpse of our first Giant Panda. They really are terrific animals and, a little like an ice-cream on a hot day, never fail to bring a smile to your face. Having said that, it’s little wonder they’re on the WWF endangered species list. First of all, they’re quite solitary animals and tend to not enjoy the company of others. Secondly, in a cruel twist of fate, they’re essentially herbivores with the digestive tract of carnivores. You have to wonder if God was tired at the end of a long day and added the panda to his “Let’s See What Happens If…” list, joining salmon and their ritual of reproduction. And nothing puts a smile on your face than the sight of nine or ten panda cubs falling over each other as they romp around their enclosure. There was an option to have a photo taken with a baby panda (I paid for the privilege of holding a koala once when in Australia) but the exorbitant cost put me off somewhat. In related news it apparently costs approximately US$1m per annum for zoos to “hire” a panda. Expensive beasts.

 After a while though the smile begins to fade, the ice-cream melts or your wine gets warm. Either way, you’ve had enough. So we headed back into town to spend the afternoon resting before an evening sampling the local speciality – hot pot.

I am a huge fan of hot pot. Many aren’t. My partner Daniel doesn’t see the point or nutritional value of eating boiled meat but then he’s not right all the time. However, on this occasion there was a slight problem which dawned on me after we sat down in a chain restaurant that I knew from Beijing. I had never ordered hot pot in my life. Not once. Every time I’ve been out for it someone else has ordered for me and so, although I could read the menu well enough, I had no idea what anything was! Luckily no-one else in the Group had the faintest idea what to expect anyway so it wasn’t very hard to make believe that everything I ordered was normal. The cow’s stomach was harder to cover up but, naturally, I got out of it by arguing that what I had said was “I don’t want tripe” and clearly the serving staff had simply focused on the fact that I had said “tripe”. It’s easy to get confused when foreigners speak Chinese don’t you know? A total disaster from my point of view and a clear indication that the next time I go for hot pot I should pay attention to whoever orders.

 To end the piece and, to go full circle, we found ourselves in The Bookworm after supper for a much needed gin, beer, wine and brandy. There is something tremendous about an establishment that can give you the same feeling upon entry as the more familiar venue located over 1,100 miles away. I would also like to take this opportunity to point out that The Bookworm in Chengdu and, specifically Pete Goff (The Bookworm co-owner) played a pivotal role in relief efforts after the May 12 earthquake. More information here: Sichuan Quake Relief. Such a great place.

 “China Experience” Rating: 10/10

 How could you not give it 10/10? There’s luxury brands, iconic pandas, the (usually not-disastrous) dining experience…and Chairman Mao.

Travels In China ... Part One (by Paul Eldon)

In May 2009 we persuaded Paul, our second son, to take us up to North West China. This is his side of the story. 

Seven People, Six Cities, Four Provinces, One Autonomous Region...

and a Uyghur called Patti.

Having lived in China for the past eight years but never having traveled around the country, the two-week round-trip journey from Hong Kong via Yangshuo (Guangxi), Chengdu (Sichuan), Kashgar, Turpan (Xinjiang), Dunhuang, Jiayuguan (Gansu) and Xi’an (Shaanxi) was probably the closest I was going to get to what might be described as the “China Experience”.  This is a term thrown about by pseudo China commentators regularly; what qualifies as an “experience” anyway?  Is it something cultural and rather esoteric, or can that prolonged and awkward visit to the bathroom after a particularly potent hot-pot also be termed a “China Experience”?

 I went to China in 2001 to study the language. Not because I had a deep seated desire to immerse myself in Chinese culture, nor because I wanted to report on the living conditions of China’s mega-population of peasants. The BBC’s regular misrepresentative and painful to watch “exposé’s” do just fine in that regard. It was simply because I recognised that a working knowledge of Mandarin might come in useful in the future.

 It is not my place to comment on Chinese society in comparison to Western society. They are so different that you cannot objectively compare the two without sounding either smug or trite.  I am staggered by the number of people who write books about life in China after spending just a few months (and sometimes only weeks) in the country.  I am simply a man who moved to Beijing for my own reasons, was delighted that I enjoyed living in the city, and ultimately set up shop there for most of the next decade.  Having said that, as I had only previously travelled to Shanghai, Qingdao, Shenzhen, Dongguan and Shenyang, I was very much looking forward to the trip around the People’s Republic if only because from what I’d seen and read, the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region was the closest thing you’d get to a Central Asian experience without needing another visa.  That I was going to be able to strut in front of my parents, godparents and family friends like a peacock in full bloom using what I’d learned in the Northern Capital was a boon.  You see, I’m a bit of a show off as anyone will tell you who ventured into The Bookworm in Beijing on a Monday night for our weekly (award winning) pub quiz, or on the second Thursday of the month for our equally popular Basically Beethoven classical music open-mic evening.  After each leg of the journey I shall rate each place on a “China Experience” scale of 1-10 with 1 being as Chinese as cheddar cheese and 10 Modern Communist China in all its red glory.  (If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em!)

 So, to the trip. 

 We began our mini adventure on a Sunday morning as the retired population of Hong Kong set out to do their morning Tai Chi. We were to take the train into Guangzhou, fly to Guilin and then transfer by bus to Yangshuo.  All up it took us the better part of a day but the distance we had traveled?  Hardly anywhere.  China is a vast country and, if we’re simply using climate as our guide, we might as well have been in Hong Kong’s New Territories.  But unlike the New Territories, the topography of Guangxi is, simply, breathtaking.  If you think about classical Chinese painting you either get the Taoist mountains of Shandong coming to mind, or the rugged and rippling terrain of Guangxi.  Indeed, near Yangshuo in the village of Xingping the picture used for the reverse of the ¥20 RMB note was taken.  Friends of mine who have been in China since the early 1990s tell me of a time when Yangshuo was a quiet fishing village with a couple of restaurants and maybe one or two places to stay.  Not so today. 

 We stayed at a nice little place - The Rosewood Inn (which I’ll give 3 stars to for their rooms but 1 star for their breakfast), a semi-boutique style hotel and one of a small handful in the village. The hotel’s manager, named by the Group as “10% Sam” is a businessman originally from Hong Kong but who has lived in Yangshuo for the better part of the last 10 years.  Never let it be said that Hong Kong businessmen can’t spot a good deal when they see one because dear Sam now runs an entire strip of restaurants on one of the busiest streets in the village.  Yangshuo still has a romantic feel to it, helped along by the mist, the mountains and the cormorant fishers, but make no mistake – this is a tourist destination and the irritating “guides” pressing you every waking minute to go with them to see the “real” countryside, or sell you goods and services “very cheap” can get tiresome.

The Group ventured out on its own on long bicycle rides, into the food market and down the river on bamboo rafts. We included a visit to the extraordinary sound and light show held twice nightly on the outskirts of the village.  Zhang Yi Mou (director of the excellent film Raise The Red Lantern – one of the first foreign language films I saw and one of my all-time favourites, and Artistic Director for the opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games) has come up with a huge spectacle using the surrounding scenery as his stage and about 300,000 people and a similar number of light bulbs to create, at least in my opinion, a vulgar and thoroughly dull 60 minute show.  Some people like it.  I didn’t.  (I didn’t really like the opening ceremony either but, as you will have read in an earlier post on this blog, for those who were actually there on the night it was a quite different experience to watching it on television).

 “China Experience” Rating: 8/10

It’s China alright, from the picture postcard scenery and interesting dining (Pijiu Yu or “Beer Fish” is a local speciality) to all the bells and whistles of a country tourist destination.