Dongjin Hotel Lanzhou

... had not occurred to me that locals might think I was going there to gawk at their misery. To publicise it, or distort it. I had finally decided to go to Xinjiang out of solidarity for the people there, in defiance of people who had taken away the everyday lives of ordinary people, along with their sense of security. Of all the times Xinjiang might need tourist dollars, it was then. But other people, people whose family or friends had died would probably misunderstand my intentions ...

... and formed their own dumpling brigades, with children mixing filling and pinching dough while mothers and fathers manned huge pots of water heated by wood and coal stoves. The result, a weekend feast, was a vast difference from the melancholy vegetables and slivers of tough meat that each day usually brought. By my final day in Harbin, I waddle out the front door of Oriental Dumpling King, feeling lucky that I fit through ...

... me and tell me not to bother with the first class as they were having a Teachers Day assembly out on the playground. Gee, I never would have guessed! After morning classes all the teachers headed to a huge restaurant up the road and over passed the temple near the bus station. Lunch was quite bizarre really. Of course the food was awesome but I was strangely put in a room with all the 'a little ...

The Peoples' Republic of China owes me an apology, or at very least a flight or truck ride to Golmud, in the middle of nowhere. Forget everything you have read in newspapers, on the web or seen on television. It's all lies and propaganda. The PRC is currently addled with the rare affliction of Olympica Nervosa (extremis). Tibet is officially off limits to individual travellers. I'd been planning this ride for a few years, and during the time watched the 'semi-autonomous ...

... here before noon it is like spring, after noon it likes fall, at night it likes the beginning of winter!' No wonder the ancient approve that 'at the end of summer the inflammation steams the human to die, then the cool of reaches this point doubts people the immortal'. In the mountain the dark golden cicada chorus, the hundred bird sound together, the pine tao ...

... to see the funny side of the locals. Like the guy who bought a large fresh fish only for it to jump out the bag onto the main bus gangway. Thankfully no fishy smell. There were a few landslips over parts of the road, most likely the result of the bad weather & earthquake they had received. Also met some nice Chinese people. At the Sanjiang train station one guy I spoke to about football, Japanese rivalry & China.

... whole thing but only a part of it) the real one didn't have a funny smell, but the fake burnt like hair and it smelled funky. After our tours we usally went for lunch if didn't already have one before the tours, which usally consisted of the same foods-fish, soup, egg-plant, rice, and some type of chicken. After lunch we went back to our hotel shower and rest and after that it was time for dinner (also the same foods).

... always a crucial moment . This is to the good, anyway, vehicle breakdown, we will be able to get off activities, look at the scenery, breathe. Car finally opened after a relay point -¹ÛÒôÇÅtown, the town along the busy market there may be exactly fair day today. Along the way, the number of maintenance too much, take the shuttle bus will stop so many times, so this way of comparison to see the scenery spot, it is quite fun ...

... for me, and gave me the address (in english and chinese), of where to go once I got there. This means I don't have to stay in Lanzhou for another three days, but can instead head south again, towards Hong Kong :) They all really went out of their way to help me, a complete stranger. 'You're in a foreign country,' Jimmy said, by way of explanation, 'everyone needs a friend in a foreign country.' I wonder if a chinese person lost in the uk would have found such unprompted friendliness. I hope so.

... that are going to a religious school than anything. You're just about more likely to see a monk on a cellphone than one not on a cellphone. I'm writing this travelpod sitting between two monks playing Doom. They spit, they play cards, they pick their nose, they smoke, they drink, they ride motorcycles. There's just as much chance as seeing a photo of David Beckham as the Dalai ...