Jinglan Exhibition Hotel
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Travel Blogs from Jinghong
Day 1 trip three beautiful Jinghong
... wait until we leave China. There was an email from Jessica telling me to let mum know I was ok. Seems there was an earthquake somewhere in southern china and she thinks I am dead. I sent her an email letting her know I was fine and not to worry (pretty sure I sent one before going into china saying I would not be able to communicate for a while). As it was so hot I decided to do some shopping for lighter t-shirts or tops before the trek tomorrow. Leonie and I get our ...
Do you know the way to Jinghong?
... at the village via Nansha, the town at the bottom of the hill. The two names in between were unfamiliar. Jacky's theory was that these two towns were on a quick path to the expressway which would dramatically cut short the total distance traversed. Moreover, he was confident that this could be achieved in a single day if one got an early start to Nansha. We checked the map and found that this made geometric sense and Yuanjiang was close enough to the expressway to give us ...
A Day in Xīshuāngbǎnnà
... class about liquid substances having boiling points differences so that alcohol can be separated out in a distilling process. We were watching the science lab in practice now. The moonshiner didn’t seem to mind us checking out his set-up and taking video. He was working and concentrated solely on his business at hand.
We circled back along the main road past a two new small temples that were, like everything in China, under ...
Sweet and Sour
... paved, curbed and guttered. They like lots of colourful lighting and the more noise and hubbub the better, so it seems. So despite the tropical climate, there seems to be just as much activity here as elsewhere in the country, but with a more laid-back pace.
The Mekong Café is run by a gregarious Frenchman, appropriately named Greg. He has lived in Jinghong for a number of years, speaks Mandarin, has a Chinese wife and even drives a flash SUV - a rare foreigner ...
Back to party crashin', this time Dai family
... tribal woman. I don't know her tribe name, and although she is wearing western clothes, she was wearing the bamboo "backpack" that distinguishes her from the modern Hans. And the headgear. Oh how I wish I could go up to her and talk to her; maybe stay at her village. But, she probably doesn't even speak Mandarin. Look at the boots! In U.S., all we have are dull black galoshes and rubber boots. But, they ...