Yilong Binhai Hotel
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Travel Blogs from Dali
... br> Next we had to queue to get into the station. All Chinese train stations have security controls to get in, and the security is probably tighter at Kunming Station than most after last year's terrorist attack there, 29 people killed by a group of knife-wielding militants. We finally got through the first security point and then queued for the ticket check. Then we had to go upstairs. The escalators were broken and there were about 500 people trying to get ...
... the ornate wooden door inserts. Spectacular 3D designs are created with just a had sketch on white paper stuck to the front of solid wood. impressive stuff.
After a while of wandering we decided on lunch. We found a likely looking place and found that it was also a Batik house. They were very surprised to see us come in without someone dragging us but welcomed us anyway. We sat with some old Bai lady's as they stitched the cloth and were ...
... happy to be in such a kool little town. The prospect of "Catfishing" here for a few days very quickly became a possibility.
Adam had been desperate to go to this bar called the "Bad Monkey" after bumping into this guy in Shanghai who had worked their for a few months and told him lots of compelling war stories, apparently one even involved a drunken tattoo of a number 3 on his knee. So after wolfing down abit of hostel food we ...
... a trial. I was given two big lessons. Barbers, here like everywhere else, don't care at all what then customer tell them. When i explained what i wanted the clear reply was "i know what i'm doing, just seat down and let me do my work". The result was between s punk cut and what in Italy is known as german cut. Fine. The second lessons was about beard. A middle oriental beard isn't to any extent similar to a chinese one. When he started ...
... as well spend a couple of weeks being a bit more adventurous before we rejoined one another, wherever that may be.
The bus to Dali was interesting. My rucksack shared the hold with a cage full of black Chinese puppies (and still stinks of them) vomit buckets/bins lined the aisle, they had at least been slopped out but never washed... There was no English anywhere; I had no idea where I was to end up.
In typical fashion I got out for a two minute ...