TravelStream™ news feed for member iolair on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/iolair en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Fri, 25 Sep 2009 22:22:13 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253870281/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253870281/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253870281/tpod.html Fri, 25 Sep 2009 22:22:13 -0400 China Stories

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Harbin, Heilongjiang, China

Originally Mum and I had talked about going to Yunnan in the week before we left for Perth but Mum was keen to see ice sculptures, so we went to Harbin instead. Given Harbin is famous for its annual ice festival, to say it is very cold is a no-brainer. It reaches minus 30 quite frequently. Coming from Perth (where the winter weather is extremely civilised) it was the coldest place I had ever attempted to go to and the furthest north I'd been in China.

Since our flight left really early, we had no option but to take a taxi to the airport. However, being thoroughly sick and tired of unscrupulous drivers trying to rip me off, I had sought out a friend who had instructed me on reasonable prices to the airport. As we headed to where taxis were waiting by the gates, I steeled myself for some haggling. I think I must have scared the poor man. I am not a morning person and I hate bargaining and both these things were probably written fairly clearly on my face, so when I just about bowled him over with my terms, he just widened his eyes, nodded and said "You can speak Chinese!" Mum pissed herself laughing.

That cab driver was actually really cool. In the last ten years, some of the best conversations I've had with complete strangers have been with cab drivers. In Taiwan they were often busy trying to marry me off to their cousins, which wasn't so great, and during elections it was often just better to pretend not to understand Chinese unless you wanted a great big lecture on the virtues and vices of green and blue (DPP and KMT), which is just plain annoying. However, the conversation we had that morning was awesome. It started on differences between local dialects, then jumped to cross-strait relations, onto democracy and whether it was a viable option in China (his answer was probably not, at least not for a long time, although thankfully his reasoning was not the same as Jackie Chan's thing about Chinese people needing to be told what to do, or whatever it was... his opinion on this was actually similar to what had been starting to occur to me, that the resources, needs, and feelings of each region in China are too diverse and that sudden introduction of democracy would lead to the country breaking apart, civil war, or worse and that this would not actually be in the interests of anybody), then to corruption in government (there had been reports recently about officials appropriating, scrap that, stealing money from donations meant for the victims of the Sichuan earthquake).

We had managed to talk our way quite cheerfully through all kinds of sensitive issues, but when we got onto corruption, I got quite upset (sniffly... yes, I am a sook) and he completely lost it, hit the steering wheel, raised his voice and turned to face me (not generally a good idea whilst driving!) at which point Mum, who was sitting in the back seat entirely unaware of what we were talking about due to the conversation being in Chinese, became quite alarmed, thought I was going to get thumped and ditched by the side of the road and said, "Whatever it was you just said to him, I think you should probably drop it and apologise!!!". Or something like that. I turned around to explain what was going on. The donations were money that was meant to save and rebuild people's lives, there were lots of people paying attention to it. For both these reasons, nobody should have had the audacity to touch it. Yet they did. So what happens to the money that isn't being watched, that isn't being used for this kind of cause? That was his point and that was why he was in a rage.

Don't just look at bright shiny (rich) cities like Beijing and Shanghai, there are millions of people living extremely hard lives in this country. Not just in rural areas, but on the outskirts and in the cracks of those big cities. No money to pay for medical care, no money to send their children to get an education, which is the only ticket to a better life. And then there are some unscrupulous bastards, more than happy to get rich off the backs of those less fortunate than themselves. It is sickening. He has every right to be furious.

There are a lot of things that are not ideal, but a lot has also changed very quickly and, I think, for the better. This conversation was just one example. Would it have been possible 20 years ago?! Unlikely. And if it had been, we probably would both have been locked up for it.

Anyway, back to Harbin. I was paranoid about getting cold, so I dressed with six layers on top and four on my legs, two pairs of socks, two pairs of gloves, a mask... etc., so I managed to stay warm even outside at night. Mind you, while we were there I don't think it got too cold. It has been a warm winter. Despite the relatively warm (hahaha) weather, I still got to experience the extremely unpleasant sensation of having my snot freeze in my nostrils, something I am in no hurry to ever have a repeat performance of. Thank goodness we didn't come last year during the winter from hell, otherwise I guess I might have had my eyeballs freeze in their sockets instead. Although we went for the ice sculptures, I have to say the architecture in the old part of town is reason enough to go to Harbin. Cobblestone streets and gorgeous, old Russian buildings. I was stunned. Happily so.

This year the festival had a Disney theme which, while it might have been fun for the kids and was still impressive, was a little disappointing. I had heard about amazing ice versions of famous buildings like the Forbidden City, so to see Aladdin's palace standing in its place was a let down. Having said that, the huge castle and the four storey slide was great fun. The place looked cool when it was lit up and the competition area was amazing. Every year teams from different countries compete and the sculptures they create are unbelievable. I thought the one by China team 2 was the most skillful, but my favourite was a dragon by a Japanese team. Lit up from beneath against a black night, they glow like enormous crystals. It was definitely worth the trip.

It being China, I have to comment on the food. The Dongbei (north-east) area is famous for dumplings, but I have to say from my experience Shandong's dumplings win hands down. I would have said the food in Harbin was bland, but actually, we went to one cheap lunch place down an alley (yes, it was a dive, but it was a tasty one) and the food there was really good, so who knows?! Harbin beer, the cheap stuff (the expensive stuff doesn't taste as good, go figure!) with the clear bottle and blue (I think) label, remains my favourite in China. Although I once drank a beer from Guizhou that was really good, but I don't remember the name and only saw it once in Taiyuan.

The people are very different, too. Most of the waiters were very direct in the way they spoke, not at all chatty, nice enough and helpful, but not in a very forward way (have to ask first). I find I get along really well with people in Shandong. There is banter, lots of smiling and laughter. In fact, I have found this to be the case not just in Jinan, but everywhere I have been in China. But in Harbin, I fell flat on my face in this respect, like I was not connecting with people properly despite there being no language barrier.

And finally, a rant about tour groups. Mum and I couldn't get in the entrance of the park where the ice sculptures were because it was blocked by a group, all determined to be the first in despite their tour guide not yet having handed out tickets and thus being unable to go through the turnstiles!!! I asked the guide if they were a group and, if so, could she allow us through. She ignored me. I reasoned with people in front of us to let us pass, since we already had our tickets and they did not. Politeness exhausted, I lost it. I squeezed, elbowed and nudged my way through yelling "Move it!" when blocked and muttering "inconsiderate, rude, selfish bloody tour groups" as I went (the latter is not to my credit, but I was really peeved). One woman heard my diatribe, gestured a slightly less crammed way to the turnstile and looked apologetic, but by that stage I was already furious. To be fair, it is the responsibility of the venue to make sure groups don't block entrances but even still, it has done nothing to decrease my dislike of tour groups. And just the whole trying to cram through entrances thing that invariably happens in this country (trying to board a train is the most obvious example). Why do people insist on doing things in a way that requires being rude to others? It is unnecessary and just puts everybody in a shitty mood.

The next morning we were off to the airport again. The driver had the meter on before I could tell him I wanted a flat fare (this is what the hotel had warned me to do), which bothered me because I was worried he might take a scenic route after something one of the other drivers standing nearby had said. I told him if the fare went over 120RMB, I would be furious and he would be in deep shit. He said we could pay 120RMB regardless of what the meter came up with. He then drove like a maniac. The meter read 110RMB by the time we got there. Doh! The driver was pretty smug, fair enough too. I apologised for being a cow and told him that many drivers in other cities rip off foreigners on a regular basis. In Wuhan I've had drivers try to ask me for triple the normal fare from the airport. A friend in Jinan was once charged 600RMB for a ride that is usually 120RMB. The fact is we foreigners get ripped off fairly frequently especially if we don't know the route, or how much the fare ought to cost and don't let the driver know this early on. He reacted very shocked and went on his way. How embarrassing.

Next stop: Taiyuan. Mission: to make it to Pingyao.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253868515/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253868515/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253868515/tpod.html Fri, 25 Sep 2009 05:15:28 -0400 China Stories

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Qufu, Shandong, China

If it were not for the unfortunate fact that I was pretty much unable to walk after my first trip to Taishan (no, scrap that, I was crippled), I was going to go to Qufu during Golden Week. Sadly, I had a hard enough time negotiating flat surfaces, let alone the four flights of stairs it would have taken me to get to the ground floor (the first leg of the trip to the bus station). For this reason, I was stuck in my apartment for most of the rest of that week. Taishan is a bit hard on the legs.

Qufu is the hometown of the ultra famous philosopher, Confucius. As such, the old town has been well preserved and had money showered on it. I had to read the Analects in second year uni. While I didn't much like them, there is no denying the man's influence, especially in this part of Asia. People from Korea and Japan often come to Qufu on pilgrimage to pay their respects to the sage.

Mum and I are neither of us big museum or temple people (ok, so that is a huge understatement... the two of us are total plebs, I only like museums if they have lots of swords and stuff). We whirled through Kong temple, mansion and cemetery in record speed, despite Mum being hampered by a very sore knee.

The temple was very cool even for a cultural dumb bum like me and the town was neat, but even still, after a few hours we'd had enough, so we had a coffee and then headed for the bus station to catch a bus back to Jinan, only to find the bus station was closed for the night. It wasn't even 6pm! A station worker on her way home called somebody on her cell and took us to the guard's office. The guard called the bus back to the station to take us back to Jinan. Unbelievable! Talk about spoilt! Seriously, sometimes it can be rough travelling around this country because you feel like it is open season on your wallet with scams to the left and hawkers to the right of you. Then there are times like these where people go completely out of their way to help you.

On the way back, Mum recognised a dumpling restaurant near my house, so we jumped off the bus and made it home about an hour or so earlier than if we had gone all the way back to the central station. How Mum managed to recognise the place even though unable to read any of the signs when I could not, despite living there for six months and being able to read Chinese is a) really embarrassing and b) a sign of how terribly vague I have become!

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253866912/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253866912/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253866912/tpod.html Fri, 25 Sep 2009 04:47:10 -0400 China Stories

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Qingdao, Shandong, China

I meant to go to Qingdao as soon as I got to Jinan. It's because I miss the sea. Living in Wuhan was crappy in this respect. I grew up next to the ocean and find it comforting to know it is nearby, even if I can't see it. In Wuhan the nearest coast is 12 hours by train. Coming to Shandong was a relief. Getting to Qingdao felt like a weight being let off my shoulders. That is the effect the sight of the sea had on me.

I think Qingdao is a beautiful city. Beautiful European architecture by the sea. We didn't do much other than walk around by the seaside, but that was enough to give me a really positive impression of the place and make me pretty certain that I would be happy living there.

Two observations... firstly, Qingdao was an Olympic city and this is obvious in the way it has been cleaned up, but not in the behaviour of the people. The people stared in Qingdao a lot more than is generally the case in Jinan. One would think they hadn't seen foreigners before. I was surprised.

Secondly, the train trip to Qingdao upset me. So much land covered in concrete and bitchumen, garbage, buildings and gactories everywhere, dirty air and sluggish brown rivers. Is this the price of 'development', of 'progress'? It is too high. Much too high. Poor China. Poor earth. Poor people. How has it come to this?

When I shut my eyes, I can picture the blaze of Perth's sharp blue skies in my mind, white sand, surf and the crisp scent of gum trees that is my home. Clean. Unpoisoned. I think of the ordinary people in the middle of Shandong who have no experience of this kind of land, never will and did not create this pollution through which they must wade. Nor will they reap the benefits, which will most likely go to some big shot who lives elsewhere.

China is beautiful, but in too many places, it has been overburdened and poisoned. To be frank, I think the problem is so serious that it cannot be fixed. Chinese people love their country with a passion that is sometimes scary, but they have very nearly killed it. That is more than enough reason to feel sad.

Some of the photos (the wedding shots) were taken in spring 2009, not winter 2008.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1251456665/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1251456665/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1251456665/tpod.html Thu, 24 Sep 2009 07:32:17 -0400 China Stories

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Pingyao, Shanxi, China

You might have seen the film Raise the Red Lantern. The cool traditional buildings it was filmed in are near a little place in Shanxi province called Pingyao. Pingyao is famous for its well preserved old city. It is also famous for its wall. Impressive fortifications are, as noted elsewhere, more than reason enough for me to go just about anywhere. Unfortunately, to get there, you most likely need to travel though Taiyuan. A place I am not anxious to go back to and the place where this story starts.

I have griped and complained elsewhere of ruthless, dodgy, scheming and sometimes sleazy drivers. Taiyuan may well be a nice enough, if smoggy, city. However, my dominant memories of it were a minivan scandal, a lot of naked women, and a very bad haircut. Let me explain.
We flew from Harbin to Taiyuan, took off several layers of clothing, then caught a bus to the train station. Sadly, early Chinese New Year migration interfered with our rather nice plan of catching a train to Pingyao. The ticket hall was a very good example of what the Chinese call "people mountain people sea". It would have taken an hour to barge our way to the ticket window to find out that there were no tickets available for a day or so. Or that was my fear anyway. So we fell back on the slightly ill advised plan B, aka minivan. Minivans and private cars often wait in car parks near stations. When they fill up with passengers for a particular destination, they leave. But you have to bargain for the price. My ancient guidebook said 30RMB was a decent price to Pingyao. Given inflation has been pretty steep, I figured 40-45 would still be acceptable. I asked how much and was told a staggering 160 RMB for two. Grr. I told the boss he was being ridiculous and our haggling began. I noticed he shut the door so that the guys inside couldn't listen or talk to me. Finally, Mum and I paid 50 each, which I was unhappy with, but we were pushed for time. In the final minute, he'd really pissed me off by saying "It's only 20 RMB difference, which is nothing, what's the big deal?" to which I bit back, "If it's nothing, why won't you let me have it?" He backed off, just as Mum misheard the numbers involved and though I had agreed to pay 200 RMB instead of just quibbling over 20RMB and interjected that we should leave.

After we got in, me still fuming about getting ripped off, I realized I'd made 2really dumb mistakes. One, I'd shown the guy where my money was and secondly I'd forgotten to record the license plate of the van. This might sound paranoid, but students of mine have been mugged in a car like the one we were taking. All the other people were men. Not that this means anything, but it tends to put me more on edge in that kind of situation (although people like the Bernies proved quite nicely that having another woman present is no reason to let down one's guard). I didn't realise that 2 of the 3 men in the van were passengers. I hunched over in the back and stuffed 200 yuan plus my ATM card down one of my boots. Then we were off, Mum with her compass out making sure we were indeed heading in the direction of Pingyao. We stopped to pick up some more passengers, including a tiny baby which cause Mum and I to share a concerned look, but fears of having to listen to a screaming baby all the way to Pingyao turned out to be unjustified.

When the driver got out to organise the new passengers, I got talking to the other two guys in the car, who turned out to be students returning to Pingyao for New Year. They a) confirmed my suspicions that we'd been ripped off, b) confirmed my suspicions that minivans were dodgy and not the ideal mode of transport for naïve foreign women because drivers are often dishonest and sometimes violent, c) confirmed my suspicions that it would have been a waste of time trying for train tickets (they already had and there were no tickets for anything in the next seven hours), d) confirmed my suspicions that we should have gone to the bus station instead, which is easy to get tickets for and only 25RMB and e) apologized for not helping during the bargaining session but they were worried about getting beaten up. Great.

We actually got to Pingyao just fine, then got kidnapped by someone who wanted to show us accomodation that had heating and 24 hour hot water and was in a traditional style building. It was in a stunning building, that much was true, so we agreed, but the hot water was coal fired powered and only for about 4 hours, assuming you could actually bear to take your clothes off since the heating was also coal fire powered and thus pretty much useless. Seriously, I wore seven layers to bed which is just ludicrous because the most I ever wore in Harbin was 7 layers and Harbin is way north where it is supposed to be cold.

The first thing we did was go to the bus station to buy tickets back to Taiyuan in order to avoid a repeat of what I can only describe as "minivan induced anxiety". We walked about for a bit then headed for hot pot which while quite yummy, was expensive. I had a go at the boss for chagrining so much for the Qingdao beer which was 8 RMB when it is only 5 RMB in Jinan. He went into a detailed explanation about how the Qingdao beer in Jinan was not actually brewed in Qingdao whereas his was. In return I insisted the label and tast were the same, he declared it was not, at which point I aksed if he had drunk Qingdao beer in Jinann. He shook his head and then blamed the inflated price on freight, at which point I realized I was way too wound up and was being a bitch by taking out my minivan angst on him. I professed the beer to be worth the 8 RMB, we smiled at each other and got to the business of hot pot.

The next morning, I was in a good enough mood to admit that Pingyao was very cool. Lots of beautiful buildings and lanterns, but it is all being strangled in a coal caused smog. It sticks daggers in the throoat, there is no escaping it. And then the plight of a little street dog stuck in a moat (no water, but still very cold with no way out) brought me down to rock bottom, partly with shame. I am pretty sure it was put in the moat by people and without somebody climbing down into the moat and carrying it out, it would die either of hypothermia, or dehydration. The point is I didn't have the courage to go into the moat to rescue it because I was worried I wouldn't be able to climb out again without help and that Mum was not strong enough to pull me out if I got stuck. One beer and I'd have done it. But my courage failed me, that and I could tell Mum was afraid for my safety. So I left the dog there shivering at the end of the moat to die. I felt like shit and to this day, I think that I was wrong. There is no point in having the heart to be miserable at the plight of others, if you are not also brave enough to do what it takes to help them.

The bus trip from Pingyao was made interesting by a handicapped man and his very very scary mother. Seriously, she picked his nose for him and flicked the boogers into the aisle. I didn't notice because I was listening to my MP3 player quite intently. The lady had already asked me about five times where I was going at which point I got fed up and ignored her. She then went and stared at Mum for a long time before she became obsessed with her son's snot. So I was in a musical oblivion until Mum turned to me in shock and whispered "That woman just picked that guy's nose!" We are no strangers to roughing it but that managed to gross us both out quite nicely.

We arrived in Taiyuan and ran out of the bus station to avoid the snot flicking lady. We found a hotel and checked in but were a little disturbed when they kidnapped our shoes and gave us pjs to wear around the hotel. It turned out to be known for its public bath where you turn up and walk about naked, sit in spas and have massages. I figured I get stared at enough without having a whole bunch of naked women gawk at me, so I passed, opting for a haircut instead. Unfortunately the guy who cut my hair was a) not very skilled and b) decided that he really liked talking to me. The result was, despite having been told in no uncertain terms to trim a little only, he just kept cutting and cutting in order to have an excuse to keep talking to me! Needless to say I was pretty pissed off when I finally looked in the mirror closely to see what was going on. Silly man kept gushing about how great it was because no matter how it is cut, my hair still looked good. Chuh, in retrospect, this was probably a warning of what was to come. I think I probably lost about 20 centimeters. Mum was pretty patient about listening to me rant about it afterwards.

The next morning we rescued our shoes, caught a cab to the airport and then flew back to Jinan. Thus ended the Shanxi adventure. Not very relaxing, but whatever... What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, I guess. Or neurotic!


]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253790260/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253790260/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253790260/tpod.html Thu, 24 Sep 2009 07:25:39 -0400 Korean Adventures

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Seoul, Korea Rep.

Earlier in the year, Mum asked if I would mind meeting up in Europe during Chinese New Year, instead of in Taiwan at Christmas time. More than fair enough considering she had already come to Taiwan oodles of times (I think it was about 8 or so by then). Saddened by the thought of a Christmas without my Mum, I offered to meet her in Japan, Vietnam or Korea if she was willing to make the trip. Mum jumped at the chanced to go to Korea, but was surprised I would be willing to go back to Seoul yet again (after all, three times in less than 6 months is a little extreme). Actually, I was happy to go anywhere to see Mum and figured, since Seoul was familiar to me, it would make things less stressful on the both of us.

This decision was made before the fire. There was a fire in our apartment in Taiwan, caused by faulty wiring. It burnt through four rooms before it was contained. The TV exploded, the computer melted. What did not burn turned black from smoke and wet from water the fire fighters sprayed to put out the blaze. In just an hour, our home and sanctuary was turned into a black, steaming, burnt-out hell. We were very lucky. Neither I nor my housemate were at home, otherwise, given the late night we had had the night before, we probably would have been napping. None of the other people in the building were hurt. My passport miraculously survived. But... and for the both of us, it was a devastatingly big but... our dog, Indy, died in the fire.

After the fire, Mum offered to come straight over for moral support, then to call off Korea because she was worried I would be too stressed to go. I rejected both offers. Both Mum and I knew it would not be convenient for anybody ifMum came to Taiwan in November when I was pretty much homeless. And I was determined that, come hell or high water, nothing was going to keep me from my mum or Korea that Christmas.

I think I am a strong person with an extremely hardy sense of humour. I am eternally grateful for this because my perverse sense of humour has been able to see me through all kinds of trying situations. The fire was similar in some senses. I managed to find things to smile and laugh about the day after the fire when we were salvaging what was left of our belongings from the charred remains of the apartment. This is just my nature. I laugh in the face of situations that scare or upset me, but that I cannot change. That is how I cope. It usually works pretty well. But that fire dealt me the biggest blow I have ever felt in my life.

I couldn't give a flying crap about my possessions. I'm a traveller. I am happiest when my possessions are limited to those I can fit in my backpack. The thing that hurt was Indy's death. I loved that little dog with all my heart. We found his body huddled under the sofa in the study. It was where he hid when he was scared (usually of getting told off for chewing up a shoe or stealing undies from the laundry). The thought of how very afraid and alone he must have felt in his final moments left me feeling like someone had struck a dagger straight through my heart. And I could not laugh about it.

I think by the time I was preparing to go to Korea, I was pretty much hanging in there by the skin of my teeth psychologically until I could see Mum. Not like I was going nuts or anything. I was just so very tired. I don't like to upset the people around me. People who were already treading on eggshells around me, eggshells made of the concern they felt for me. Their worry felt like weights on my shoulders. I was tired of trying to put on a brave face all the time when I knew that deep inside I was really very sad and that unhappy memories were ready to pounce on me whenever I let down my guard and didn't have the energy to fight them off. At times like these a girl really needs her mum.

When departure day arrived, I was so incredibly relieved and excited about finally getting see Mum that I completely forgot to change currency in Taiwan. Then my ATM card didn't work at the airport in Korea. In fact the ATM came back with a message saying my card had been dishonoured!!! Poor little card. Dishonoured in Korea. Scandalous! Thankfully my credit card worked, otherwise, given the fragile state I was in, I might well have been reduced to tears. Since I have already done enough to completely disgrace myself on previous trips to Korea (shouting obscenities at the top of my lungs in markets, getting yelled at by monks... etc.), the last thing I needed was to collapse on the floor of the airport in a big blubbering mess.

Mum was set to arrive before me, so I had given her instructions on how to catch the airport bus. But in the process of catching it, Mum had a wee mishap. While she was waiting for the bus, a guy came over and tried to talk to her. She assumed he was a cab driver, or somebody trying to collect guests for a hotel, and told him "No, thank you!" several times and was a bit peeved when he persisted. Finally she told him she was catching the bus and that she was fine, thanks, to which he responded that in order to catch the bus, she would need a ticket. He then waved the tickets he had been trying to sell her in her face. She sheepishly bought one and said thank you.

The same man then made some comment about it being too cold, to which my mum again responded that she was fine. After the whole ticket fiasco, I guess he was concerned that Mum's head had been addled by the cold or something because he picked up her suitcase and walked off with it. Having some strange man make off with her luggage was the actualisation of one of my mum's greatest fears (any traveller's I guess) and caused her to run after him squawking indignantly (well I don't know if she was squawking, I made that up, but knowing Mum, she would have been pretty indignant and definitely would have been stamping about the place after him in an agitated manner). But as it happens he was just making off with her luggage in order to force her inside where it was heated. He told her to wait there and that we would come and get her when the bus came. Chivalry is not dead. But perhaps the ability to recognise it is!

I was really happy when I finally made it to the hotel and found Mum there in one piece, although in hiding. She had already made one expedition out into the cold which had sent her scampering back for cover. After getting rugged up, we went for a walk. There were some funky ice sculptures on the sidewalk (they were there for days... that's how cold it was) including a little igloo, which some Koreans told us to go sit in. I freaked out a Singaporean tour guide by talking to her in Mandarin. We had been chatting for a while before she finally got a good look at my eyes and realised I was not actually Chinese (it took her a while to realise because I was hooded, and had a mask over my overly long Western nose, which would have been a dead give away otherwise, so the only part of my body vaguely exposed were my eyes) and when she did she almost slipped over in shock. I still feel pretty smug about that. Not that I like causing people to slip over, I'm just happy she needed to see my eyes before she could figure out that I wasn't a native speaker. It's moments like these that make all those darn language classes worth it!

We went over to Insadong, which Mum loved, and spent time picking out some suitable tacky souvenirs. I bought more cell phone dangly things, a Rain key ring for Tanya (who is in love with his torso... home she doesn't kill me for that comment...), Bae Yong Jun socks for one of my Chinese teachers (who ended up being scolded by her mother when she wore them, for putting her feet anywere near Bae Yong Jun's face... I have already mentioned elsewhere how popular that guy is with old ladies!) and pictures of another Korean actor for another of my teachers who is in lust with him. Can't remember the guy's name, just that his eyes are kind of bulgy. But I remember my teacher almost slaughtered me when I disillusioned her by saying the actor hunk guy she likes probably sweats kimchi. Well, you know, kimchi odour. But it is true, the subway smells like kimchi during summer and it is from people sweating the stuff. I know so because I smelt like kimchi sweat too after I had been there for a few days in summer. I mean, Koreans eat kimchi with just about every meal. Ally said (more sensitive readers should probably not continue reading this paragraph) after she had been in Korea for just a few days her poo was the colour of kimchi (might get hit for this comment too, come to think of it... this is turning into a dangerous post). Bright orangey red. It is really potent stuff. Also, Allison told me when she lived in Korea there would be little puddles of kimchi puke from people who had indulged in too much evil soju, staggered home and could not quite control their rebelling tummies. Whose tummy would not rebel at an onslaught of kimchi and soju?!

Anyway, Mum and I went to a restaurant where we ate lots of food and shared a bottle of soju. Mum accused me of exaggerating the evilness of soju. And after we finished the bottle, happily giggling away making stupid and irreverent remarks about Middle Eastern politics, or something like that, Mum proclaimed soju was not the slightest bit evil. Indeed, soju was renamed Happy Juice.

The next day, Christmas, we went to visit some palaces and then ended up at Namdaemon markets, where I had lost it at a nasty slimeball on my first trip to Seoul. After looking at so many different things with Bae Yong Jun's face plastered across them, I do believe Mum stated to toy with the idea of buying some Bae Yong Jun (or Pretty Boy as she called him) junk for herself!

Anyway, being really cold and a bit hungry to boot, we followed our noses straight into one of the (drum roll please) DRINKING TENTS! The nice lady who ran the place seated us pretty much on top of the heater, where we ate noodles and pancake things, drank soup and, of course, soju. We should have stopped at two bottles. After all, one bottle had reduced us to blathering, giggling fools the night before, but we both professed ourselves to be surprisingly sober (whatever) and being quite attached to the tent which was warm (as opposed to the arctic freeze outside) I rather stupidly dared Mum to drink one more. Mum is no good at passing up a dare, so we downed another bottle before deciding it was well and truly time to go back to the hotel.

We continued yabbering on about how surprisingly sober we were, even after Mum totally stacked it on a stretch of (iceless) pavement. One moment she was walking along beside me and the next she was lying on the ground. She insists to this day that something grabbed her foot. Being a good daughter, not to mention very gullible, I believe her. On the way back to the hotel we stopped by a 7-11 to stock up on water, but (and this is an indication of how drunk we were) instead we came out with a litre of Hite (Korean beer which I think was probably a joint purchase) and a litre of carbonated rice wine (okay, that was my doing) and three bottles of soju (that was definitely Mum's doing, not mine... Happy Juice my #*%$). I don't know what we were thinking. Certainly wasn't anything sensible.

Unfortunately, when we got back to the hotel and I had already changed into my PJs, we discovered we had left the soju at the 7-11. Horror of horrors. Rather than sensibly leaving the bloody soju at the shop, we put on coats over our PJs and headed back to the 7-11 for our missing booze. We then tucked into the carbonated rice wine. I remember proclaiming at one point that I was going to start importing it to both Taiwan and Australia because it was truly deluxe, or something equally ludicrous. And then I think I passed out.

The next day, Mum and I were both in a very sorry state. I think I can quite safely say that I suffered my worst hangover ever on Boxing Day in Seoul. And that I will avoid carbonated rice wine like the plague for the rest of my life. Eventually we both realised that unless we got food into our systems, we were both going to have to be hospitalised. So we wandered the streets in a pathetic fashion until we found a Burger King, where we took an eternity to finish a burger and fries each. Once we finished those we were almost human again, well human enough to eat something red and spicy for dinner on the way back to the hotel that night. Mum even took the soju back home to Australia with her, although I think we left the beer in the hotel fridge. Thank goodness they don't have 24-hour booze stores (whoops, sorry, convenience stores) in Perth. I don't think Australians can be trusted near such places. Well, Mum and I can't be anyway.

While the trip to the drinking tent ended in calamity, I am still glad we went. Verdict from the third trip to Korea? Still a whole-hearted thumbs up, but if you ever go, take a word of advice... steer clear of the carbonated rice wine unless you like waking up feeling like somebody hit you in the back of the head with a wok!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253423563/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253423563/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253423563/tpod.html Sun, 20 Sep 2009 23:53:07 -0400 Korean Adventures

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Seoul, Korea Rep.

I was really excited about going to Korea and had very high expectations of the place (brought on by an addiction to Korean food and soap operas). But just before I left, I had several friends tell me there was nothing to see, the food was neither here nor their and the people were rude, which made me start to wonder if I might be setting myself up for a big disappointment.

Shouldn't have worried. Almost from the moment I arrived at the airport, I loved the place. I hit the streets as soon as I managed to ditch my bags in my hotel room and went straight up the nearest incline I could find – Seoul Mountain – which had sgnal beacons at the top just like the ones in Lord of the Rings (well, not identical, but you get the drift...). The view was nice and it was a good opportunity to do some people-watching. While the climb uphill (in the middle of a Korean summer, which is stinking hot and sticky) might have put me on a post-exercise high, easily pleased by just about anything, it also made me sweat like a pig and feel ravenously hungry.

The solution to this problem was to head to the Namdaemon markets for a bite to eat before heading hotel-wards. Unfortunately, this plan was foiled by an extremely pig-headed and sleazy male who followed me through the crowded markets calling me "baby" (shudder) and describing in explicit detail how he was going to make me "happy" (grr). It's a good thing he wasn't Korean, otherwise I might have become rather rapidly disenchanted with the place. I tried to ignore him, then tried to tell him politely that I was not interested. Neither approach had the desired effect. Finally, after ten minutes of being polite, I lost my cool quite impressively. I turned on the rotten sod and yelled at the top of my lungs "Fuck the hell off and leave me alone you stupid prat! And if you ever call me baby again, I swear I will castrate you where you stand, so help me God, I will!" This kind of behaviour is generally considered a complete loss of face in places like Korea (actually probably just about everywhere, come to think of it). And, frustratingly, it didn't seem to deter my would-be seducer either. Finally, throwing dignity (or what was left of it, anyway) I made a run for it, ducking through the crowds, and lost him. Good thing too, as I was seriously about a minute away from punching him. Note to male readers: following a girl around like a blow fly, calling her baby and talking dirty to her when she doesn't know you and is already starting to get in a foul mood from low blood-sugar is never a good way to pick up! The mind boggles...

The markets were not particularly exciting for someone who can go to night markets and buy pretty much the same crap whenever she wants in Taiwan, but the foodstalls were very different and very cool. As were the restaurant-packed alleyways nearby, which had facilitated my escape and I will thus eternally think fondly of. Too scared to stop and eat at the markets, for fear of being found again by my stalker, not to mention being severely embarrassed by the scene I had just been a part of (keep in mind, the markets were very crowded and there were over 200 people nearby who witnessed my colourful and explosive use of the English language... even if the words themselves were not understood, I'm pretty sure the tone of voice and sheer volume would have made my sentiments pretty clear) and in no hurry to stick around, I headed back to the hotel, stopping at a street vendor for some crab stick on the way. The sticks were unexpectedly sweet and very sticky. Unfortunately, I managed to liberally drip sauce all over my hands and face, in an effort not to drip on the counter and pavement (which I think is actually what one is supposed to do, but I didn't know that and I was trying to be polite). The businessman standing next to me at the stall, grabbed a roll of toilet paper (the Korean equivalent of napkins) and managed to help me clean myself up, which, although it was thoroughly embarrassing having my face and hands wiped clean like a little kid, was extremely nice of him and restored my faith in humanity after just being harassed to within an inch of my life at the market.

However, I was still fuming by the time I reached the hotel (let's face it, fits of rage take a while to wear off), so I made a detour via a convenience store where I picked up three different cans of Korean beer and some water. As expected, beer restored my peace of mind and my sense of humour quite nicely. It's a while back now, but I think I liked the OB the best. Although it is slightly quirky drinking something called OB because OB is also the name of the only brand of tampons available in Taiwan. Scarily enough, 3 (albeit fairly large) cans of beer were enough to make me a tad tipsy and, on a beer buzz, I ordered the room service traditional Korean breakfast for the next morning before collapsing zonked out on the bed.

I was hungover the next morning (from 3 beers... oh the shame). And when I got my breakfast, I cursed myself for a fool. Fish (just about the last thing I like to eat when hungover) seafood soup (ditto) little dried salty fish and peanuts (double ditto) hean sprout soup and 2 different kinds of kimchi (for those who don't know, kimchi is pickled vegetables, often cabbage or radish, very spicy and red from the chilli and other stuff used to concoct it... I love kimchi but it is not exactly what I want to be eating first thing in the morning, hungover or otherwise). To my great surprise the traditional breakfast turned out to be the best hangover cure ever. Should have know the Koreans, great drunken sots that they are, would have worked out a good morning-after breakfast.


That day I caught the subway to the south gate. It's on the top of a mountain and has part of Seoul's old city walls. Fortifications. Yay! The views were great and the hike was nice. I totally fell in love with the subway system. Subways are great places for people-watching and the best thing about Seoul was that everybody was so busy making sure not to stare at me, that I got a good chance to gawk at everyone else. On the way back I was dog tired, with jelly legs. I crawled into a restaurant and ordered a beef dish. Before my meal had arrived, little side dishes came. About 7 or 8 different kinds of vegetables, bean curd, kimchi... etc. I was starving and helped myself. I almost keeled over when the couple of dishes I finished were automatically replenished. Everything was delicious but it was way too much food. The hike, plus feast, plus the fact that it was a sit on a cushion on the floor type of restaurant meant I had severe difficulty standing up, as my legs had kind of cramped into a cross-legged position and were reluctant to do anything but sit.


In the next instalment, iolair gets kidnapped by an old lady, chased by a monk and has her mind blown by break-dancing Christians before killing whatever brain cells were left over with a good dose of evil soju.

Stay tuned...
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253504771/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253504771/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253504771/tpod.html Sun, 20 Sep 2009 23:52:10 -0400 Korean Adventures

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Seoul, Korea Rep.

For all that it was absolutely fantastic, I had regrets about my first trip to Korea. Mostly just that there was not enough time to do everything I had wanted to do. Such is the nature of time. But I don't cope too well with regret, especially not when something can be done to rectify the situation. So, when I realised I could take a four day trip in October, all I could think of was that I had chickened out of the drinking tents, I hadn't made it to the DMZ, I didn't get to go to the famous amusement park that is in so many soaps, not to the great big ice rink and wow, wouldn't Bukhansan (in the north part of Seoul) look fantastic in autumn?! My ticket was booked in the blink of an eye.

Funnily enough, my travel agent and his partner took the same flight. After I made sure they got on the right airport bus to their hotel, I headed back to Mija's guesthouse and the dogs. She was both surprised and happy to see me. I did say I would be back but then I guess a lot of travellers say that but never actually return. I spent the afternoon at a temple which I bumped into on the way to some spirit tablets of ancient royalty. The temple was very peaceful and dignified considering it was in the midst of flashing neon-lit highrise buildings and malls, but because I spent too long walking around the temple (thankfully not getting scolded by monks this time) the park with the tablets was locked by the time I got there. Such is life. I headed back to Insadong for another huge dose of the fantastic Korean food I'd been missing for the last couple of months.

The next day, I took the subway to Dobongsan station, where I was planning to go hiking. On the way there, as more hikers got on the train and normal people got off, I began to wonder if I had underestimated the difficulty of the hike. Everyone was decked out in every possible accessory imaginable, clothed entirely in Gortex, whereas I was dressed in jeans and sneakers, armed only with a little iddy biddy day pack. But then all (really… all) the female hikers were caked in make-up. Loads of it. Honestly, what kind of people put on mascara and blush when they are about to haul themselves up a mountain?! So, I was both disturbed and confused.

Although the last 15 minutes consisted of hauling oneself up ropes or finding niches in rocks and scaling up when there weren't any, I don't think I underestimated the mountain. What I had underestimated was the guts of the Korean women, who I had assumed were sissy bimbos because they were hiking all made up. One by one they all pulled themselves up over the last rock to the top where we all stood and gawked at the beautiful view. It was amazing. Every rocky peak nearby had a sprinkling of hikers enjoying their lunch and (gasp) some even downing glasses of that evil soju. I had a hard enough time getting down again as it was and I was sober. God only knows how the soju fiends made the descent.

On the way down, my shaky legs, which had turned to jelly, gave out on me after I tried to jump in a mountain goat like manner off a rock. Of course, I managed to slip rather noisily on my butt, causing a bunch of Korean guys in front of me to turn around in alarm. Mortified, I pretended there was nothing wrong, but one of them started lagging behind to keep an eye on me. I'm pretty sure they were worried, no doubt rightfully, that if I really hurt myself, I would be totally screwed, being alone and unable to ask for help unless somebody nearby spoke English. Anyway, we struck up a conversation and in the end it was him who ended up falling butt-first in some mud, but I was nonetheless touched by their concern, which was genuine. So, when we got to the bottom and they asked me if I wanted to go for something to eat and drink with them, I threw my usual "Don't mess with me!" lone woman traveller attitude to the wind, jumped into a taxi and headed off with them to a market stall (although I didn't actually have any idea where we were going at the time). There we ate all kinds of things I had been wanting to eat but didn't have the language skills to order, got wasted drinking carbonated rice wine out of bowls and were very, very merry, chatting away for several hours. After which we all staggered off to the subway and went home. I'm still undecided as to whether or not this was stupid behaviour on my part ( I think it is generally inadvisable as a girl travelling alone to head off with 6 guys, all larger than herself and complete strangers to boot, in order to go get sloshed when she is already exhausted and thus barely capable of walking) but I had an absolutely fantastic time and of my first two (Mum-less) trips to Korea, that day is my favourite memory.

The next day I simply couldn't be stuffed trying to get to the DMZ, so I opted for Lotte Amusement park. I figured the former would probably just depress me and the latter would make me happy. It did, but I tell you what, I am glad I took my mp3 player with me because the wait for each ride on the outdoor island at the park was 2 hours. I am not kidding. So, I waited for 2 hours, listening to music and watching the antics of the Koreans around me, for the opportunity to go to the top of a tower 70 or 80 metres tall (where the view admittedly was awesome, although the time I had to appreciate it was brief... 3 seconds to be precise) where the people sitting next to me yelled "hana tul set" (ie, 123) after which we whizzed down to the ground, screaming our heads off. The entire ride took less than 2 minutes. I went to the bathroom, bough water and a snack then stood in line for another 2 hours, only this time it was a really freaky rollercoaster, which scared the crap out of me. Fortunately the adrenaline rush was enough to forget the 4 hours I had already spent in line, so I went to the bathroom again, bought more water and another snack before joining the queue for yet another ride. That ride was the scariest thing I have ever been on in my life and after it was over, I figured anything else would probably be a let down. So I headed to the indoor section of the amusement park.

Seeing Bounty's Revenge made me nostalgic for Nicole's birthday parties at Adventure World, oh so many years ago when I was a kid. I had to go on it. I mean it was inside a building, which was cool, and besides I had already spent 6 hours in lines, so what was another 1 or 2?! Then I bought a silly toy snake to use as a scarf and went ice skating. It was the first time I had been skating since I was in Canada about 4 years before and I was petrified of falling over. After all, falling on ice kinda hurts. I didn't fall over, but I think the strain I put on my legs and back, in order to avoid falling when I had a couple of close calls, probably hurt more than a bruised butt would have. Oh well. I was pleased that I had managed to destroy so many regrets in one weekend and went back to Insadong to celebrate with some lemon soju and a yummy seafood pancake. Lemon soju is yummy, not evil. It even comes in a pot!

The next day, I headed back to Taiwan quite content except for one little though gnawing away at the back of my head. While I had spent an afternoon drinking away with a group of Korean guys at a bunch of red tables in a market, it still wasn't the drinking tent which I had been oh so wanting to conquer. I confess, I was a tad disappointed with myself because in my heart of hearts I knew I had whimped out yet again.

Only one more Seoul adventure to go... Will our heroine, backed up by her fearless mother, finally have the guts to make it to those damned drinking tents? Or will she chicken out yet again?! Stay tuned!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253439770/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253439770/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/4/1253439770/tpod.html Sun, 20 Sep 2009 05:49:35 -0400 Korean Adventures

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Seoul, Korea Rep.

My next adventure took me on a bus trip out of Seoul to a centralish place (the name of which totally escapes me now) which is famous for temple grounds with an enormous bright shiny metallic standing Buddha. Bokjusa? Beijing a big fan of mountains, forests and all things bright shiny and metallic (I think I have probably commented elsewhere that I am quite likely part crow, oops almost typed cow, or magpie) I figured it might be a nice trip. I was so right. I think Seoul is pretty, for a big modern city, but as soon as you get out of it, Korea is stunning. Mountains, valleys, rivers, forests, rice patties. I spent the 3 hour bus trip listening to my mp3 with my head pressed against the window trying not to drool. At the scenery that is (I just re-read this post and, placed as it is just before a sentence that mentions an ocean of soldiers, I felt the whole drooling thing needed to be clarified).

There were lots of soldiers on the bus and even more at the bus station. In fact I don't think I have ever seen so many soldiers in my life, not even on Jinmen island in Taiwan ( the setting of the infamous camouflage underwear incident a few years back, Allison if you are not blushing now, you certainly ought to be). In fact the whole buying a ticket thing would have been quite traumatic (indeed even trying to find the ticket counter in the sea of green would have been hard) had it not been for the kindness of a Korean woman who came over and asked me where I wanted to go and went and bought my ticket for me. Funnily enough I recognised her as a girl whose shoes I had been eyeing off enviously on the subway on the way to the bus station! Very nice shoes, extremely nice person.

Anyway, I got off the bus and was pretty much abducted by an old lady who dragged me off to a car driven by her husband who drove at break-neck speed to their hotel. I was most disturbed since I was a) absolutely busting to go to the toilet and b) didn't think I was stupid enough to get into a car on my own with a couple of complete strangers in a foreign country. However, as the hotel was okay, in a great location, cheap and I finally got to go to the toilet, I decided not to press the issue.

I went off for a hike that afternoon. The buddha was very impressive, as were the rest of the temple grounds. Walking through the forest was extremely peaceful until I stated getting dive-bombed by enormous flies, at which point I decided it would be a wise idea to turn back.

I stuffed my face on mountain vegetable bibimbap (why oh why is everything so delicious and always come in copious quantities?!) and headed back to the hotel where I watched a soap in Korean. It was quite distressing to have something so familiar suddenly become completely incomprehensible (I watch Korean soaps quite often, but always with Chinese voice-overs). I had great plans to wake up hideously early in the morning and hike up a mountain, but when I woke up it was raining. Being a whimp and also being slightly sore from the past 2 days, I decided to sleep in.

When I got up, I followed the Lonely Planet's instructions for getting to a hiking trail (one made famous by kings getting carried up it). This was a big mistake (as it always is, honestly, I am not completely stupid when it comes to this kind of thing, I swear, but Lonely Planet maps have gotten me into trouble in several countries and it is not just me either, my Mum has had similar problems, although not quite as embarrassing as what happened to me) because I ended up in a restricted area at the back of the temple compound and was chased out by a monk who shook his head in an agitated manner and shouted "No no no!" quite vehemently.

On my return to Seoul, I stayed in a traditional style guesthouse. The house is over a century old, very beautiful, located between two of the biggest palaces in Seoul and a hop, skip and a jump away from Insadong which, after 3 visits to Seoul remains my favourite place in the city. Plus it is the residence of two dogs and a lovely lady called Mija.

The palaces I visited were fantastic (I'll take my fortifications in any manner I can, just call me "fort floozy"). A garden of one of the palaces was where a scene from Jewel of the Palace (hideously famous Korean soap opera) was shot. I recognised it immediately, much to the amusement of the guide, who couldn't figure out how a Westerner would know about the soap, until she found out I lived in Taiwan. At that time, Taiwan was the biggest export market for Korean dramas.

I went to a folk village near Suwon, athough I almost didn't make it onto the shuttle bus because I, rather stupidly, followed the LP guide's instructions. Again. Was that optimistic or just plain dumb? Almost got lost on the way to Suwon too, due to trying to get on the wrong train. But that wasn't the guide book's fault. Anyway, the acrobats and drummers who perform at the village were awesome.

I also made a trip out to Namiseon, the island made well-known by the disgustingly famous soap opera Winter Sonata. Since I didn't book my train ticket in advance and there were no seats, I had to stand in the part outside the toilet in between carriages. A bunch of guys decided this was a good place to stand and came and joined me. Sick of standing, I decided to squat with my back resting against the wall. I didn't want to get my butt dirty. The guys obviously felt the same way, although not about their butts, because they sat straight on the floor. My legs complained, so I gave up, sighed and planted my butt on the floor. It was rather cramped. Everyone was a tad embarrassed (fair enough too, I pretty much had a foot shoved against one guy's buttock... this was completely unintentional and I am sure I was just as horrified about it as he was, but neither of us was actually able to move in order to remedy the situation), so we all studiously ignored each other by listening to our mp3s, playing cell phone games and looking at pictures on digital cameras. The world is a funny place.

After getting off the train at the wrong stop (the first character in Korean in the name of the place was the same, unfortunately the other two characters were not and I didn't realise until the train had already left) I was deposited on a bus (literally, a nice man put me on the bus, said something to the driver and off we went) and delievered to the station I was supposed to get off at in the first place. Then I caught a taxi to the port and a ferry to the island.

The place was swarming with tourists from Hong Kong, China, Taiwan and Japan. After I accused a couple of Westerners of following me because they kept turning up in the same places, we decided to go off rowing together. That was fun until I almost tipped the boat over after discovering a stow-away (ie, a big spider). I am terrified of spiders and haven't seen one that big since I left Australia, so naturally I jumped up and screamed, much to the consternation of the guy who had hired us the boat, who waved his arms at us from the shore yelling at me to sit down. After I settled down on the opposite side of the row boat and the rocking subsided, I managed to enjoy myself. Very pretty.

Soju was one of the things I decided I had to try while in Korea. It was probably Allison telling me "Soju is evil" that did it. Well, that and the fact that it is alcoholic! I tried two kinds: plain soju and lemon soju. I took a liking to the latter, but have to agree with Allison that the former is indeed evil. Strong. Well, at least I thought so, until somebody force-fed me baijiu in China, which gives a new meaning to the word strong, not to mention vicious and repulsive. One of the things I wanted to try but never got around to doing was to go to one of the tents set up on the pavement, with little red tables where people sit down and eat and drink their booze of choice. They are where Koreans go to drown their sorrows in hideous amounts of soju when they get dumped on soap operas. But I was too chicken. Funnily enough it was one of the things I regretted when I got on the plane to go home.

Finally, one day when I was wandering around near city hall , I heard strains of Handel's Messiah floating towards me from across the street. I made a mad dash across the road and stumbled across the rehearsals for a huge free concert. I got sunburnt watching the rehearsals and then almost froze to death at night watching the actual thing. I had my mind blown at that concert. They had different groups performing all kinds of music: classical, choral, gospel, old Korean folk, rock, pop, jazz, techno, acrobats, fireworks... you name it. The grannies in the audience stood up and sang along to the Hallelujah chorus. The youngsters shook their fists and yahooed along to the modern stuff whilst the grannies watched on in horror. But when the break-dancers came out, even the grannies were standing up and yelling along. Unbelievable. Finally I figured out that it was some benefit gig for a Christian charity. It took me a couple of hours before it clicked. I think it might have been when everyone stated singing, swaying and trying to hold hands, or maybe the part when people started turning around and shaking hands with strangers. Anyway, then this guy on stage started preaching loudly in Korean. That was when I realised there was a bunch of people crawling in between rows of chairs trying to escape without attracting the preacher's attention. I decided this little atheist had had enough and joined them.

Having successfully escaped, I noticed that my watch was dead. My watch tells me everything. The day, date, time, when to get up... etc. Without it I am a nervous wreck. Although not metallic, it is very shiny and I am quite attached to the wee thing. I rarely get stressed when travelling. I like the freedom and the unexpected things tat pop up and make a mess of your plans. But having my watch die on me brought tears to my eyes. I wandered into a watch shop on the way back to the guesthouse. I held out my wrist to the shopkeeper, who took one look at my pitiful expression, relieved me of the watch and set to work. When he put it back on my wrist, its little display was glowing away happily, as good as new. He probably just changed the batteries, I wouldn't know because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice!

Anyway, on a resurrection of beloved watch induced high, I stopped for dinner and soju on the way back. Under the influence of the soju, I had a long conversation with the landlady, Mija about Bae Yong Jun (an extremely famous soap star who causes hoards of stampeding women to riot in airports all over Asia, or at least he used to, indeed I remember years ago reading a report about one of his trips to either Japan or Taiwan where a bunch of hysterical old ladies had thrown their undies at him, with their phone numbers written on the undies... blah) and Rain (another soap star/singer/dancer justifiably famous for his torso) and Japanese occupation. It would be an understatement to say Japan is not exactly the most popular of countries in Korea. After visiting the palaces and noticing how many times they have been burnt down during various Japanese invasions, I guess I can see why. But it does make Japanese women's obsession with Korean soaps, actors and musicians a little ironic. If there is ever another invasion, I am betting that it will be the cunning plot of a bunch of Japanese grannies to kidnap Bae Yong Jun and drag him off to Japan. Anyway, we chatted for ages, much to the satisfaction of one of the dogs, who got a nice long head scratch in the process.

Conclusion from the first trip? Korea is beautiful. The food is great. Korean pedestrians seem incapable of walking in a straight line and are always knocking into each other like heat-seeking missiles, but I don't think this is on purpose, just quirky. I have heard they are even scarier on ski slopes and this does not surprise me. However, if people were rude (like my friends had warned me before I went) I certainly didn't notice it (except for the old ladies, God help you if an old lady decides she wants to be where you are standing because she will bump and nudge until she gets to where she wants to be at the expense of your ribs).

All in all, two big thumbs up!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253329104/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253329104/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253329104/tpod.html Fri, 18 Sep 2009 23:06:13 -0400 China Stories

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Beijing, China

After I first moved to Wuhan, I went to Beijing for a couple of days to vote in an Australian election. This time I was going to meet up with Mum, who was flying into Beijing for a four week trip to China. Those last couple of weeks had been an insane and stressful mess of assessments, exam preparation and marking and I was exhausted even before I caught the train to Beijing. I got to the hotel at about the same time Mum's plane arrived at the airport and promptly went to sleep.

After Mum arrived we went out for a complimentary beer at the hotel bar and then discovered Russian beer, which was yummy, but strong which was a bit of a shock to my system after drinking Qingdao for months. We went out in search of food at a market near Wangjingfu Street and had just negotiated some vegetarian noodles for Mum when the electricity was cut in the markets and everybody started packing up. After living in Wuhan where street food is available 24-7, I could not help but stare in disbelief. It was only 9:30pm!!!

We wandered aimlessly until we came across a steamed dumpling place where we ate and drank well for under 10 RMB in total. Then went back to the hotel for more Russian beer and made friends with the waiter who was from Qingdao, quite homesick and very enthusiastic to talk about how great Shandong is to anyone who would sympathize. I sympathized because I’m a big fan of Shandong too.

The next day was freezing. It was windy and cold to the point that I couldn’t feel the cold anymore. My legs just stung. The wind was so cold, it was like it was sending needles in through my jeans and two layers of long granny underwear (aka tights) to pierce me legs. Mum took too many photos, after which her hands started going numb and she showed signs of getting hypothermia. In other words, she was showing uncharacteristic signs of crankiness. I gave her my mittens and shoved my hands into my coat pockets, then we headed off to find food.

Back in the markets that closed on us the night before, we had the worst noodles I have ever eaten in my life. Considering the second worst was also in Beijing, I am starting to think eating noodles in Beijing is unwise. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve had bad noodles anywhere else in China! Oh, that isn’t entirely true… I got a severe case of the runs after a bowl of liangmian (cold noodles… a summer specialty, but given that it is easier to get food poisoning in summer, it is generally wiser to make sure any food you eat in that season has had the crap cooked out of it, thus making liangmian a risky choice) in Jinan one summer, but the point is the noodles tasted delicious while I was eating them, even if I did regret them afterwards. Anyway, back to the story at hand, we headed for a mall where we hid until it was time to leave.

That was when something interesting happened. Mum asked if you were supposed to tip in China. I said no. She was sure the doorman had slighted us because she had not tipped him after he helped her with her suitcase the day before. I thought that was nonsense. My guidebooks (I had 3 at the time) all say there is no tipping and I know my Chinese friends don’t ever tip. But the next time we came to Beijing, something happened to make us think that things have changed since the Olympics.

We arrived back in Jinan in the middle of the night and waited at the taxi stand. I usually catch the bus (1RMB) back to the uni, but there aren’t any at that time of night. We got in the cab and the driver refused to turn on the meter. We were already on the move, which made our bargaining position a little weak (ie, non-existent). I went ballistic. I was once charged 35 RMB to get to the uni before - twice the price if you go by the meter. He wanted 30 RMB. I was pissed off, demanded the meter be started. The whole machine was off. Convenient because that means no receipt. To complain to the government about a case of overcharging, you need a receipt. That’s when I noticed there was no cab license displayed, which probably meant he was leasing the car at night from the actual driver. Added to this, my gloves were caught in my backpack behind my back and I couldn’t free them, leaving me sitting with my wrists twisted behind my back. Mum, sitting in the back (and probably able to see the fumes of rage wafting off my body) was convinced I was ticked off enough that I was going to tell her to jump at the next lights. When I explained what the problem was she told me to settle down and forget about it. What’s 10 RMB? The answer is: nothing. The issue is being scammed and having walked into it. It doesn’t piss me off any less each time it happens. It was a rough way to end the weekend and not the best first impression of Jinan for Mum to have.

Perhaps I should consider myself lucky. A friend of mine from Finland once got charged 50 RMB for the same ride. I guess I got a 40% discount for being able to speak Chinese. What can I say? Some of the most interesting conversations I have had in China have been with cab drivers, but the nasty ones really do give the others a bad name.

C’est la Vie.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253327864/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253327864/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/iolair/1/1253327864/tpod.html Fri, 18 Sep 2009 22:40:43 -0400 China Stories

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Beijing, China

The last stop of our China trip was to get to Beijing and enjoy ourselves before flying off home to Perth.

Tipping is not the norm in China. Really. Ask any Chinese person, or look in a guide book and that is what you will be told. I've been to Beijing before and was never expected to tip. Let alone in a cheap hotel. However, since the Beijing Olympics, things seem to have changed somewhat, although in a rather perverse way. Mum was right, we were slighted by the doorman at the last hotel we stayed at. After our experience at the two star place we stayed in on the way out of China, I know this is true.

As soon as we walked in, the bellhop, ignoring the Chinese couple who walked in at the same time (also carrying bags and, quite frankly, much better dressed than either of us), kidnapped Mum’s suitcase. Then the floor manager snitched the key from me, again ignoring the Chinese couple who finished checking in at the same time, while making a comment to the bellhop not to worry, he’d give it all to the bell hop, which I didn’t understand until after.

We got to the room and they hung about until it was extremely uncomfortable. Mum and I discussed the matter, but having no idea how much to tip, not to mention being completely out of change, Mum said "thank you". The floor manager raised his eyebrows and said an incredulous “Thank you”?!?! I smiled and said “bye -bye” and voila, they left, leaving Mum and I aghast. A couple of quick messages to another expat and a Chinese friend who travels to Beijing fairly frequently for work confirmed my suspicion that one does not tip in Beijing. The latter told me to ignore the staff since they had done it because they think it is our custom and they would never do it to a Chinese person. That kind of got to me because tipping is not an Australian custom either. Why should I be expected to behave in a way that is neither Australian or Chinese in a 2 star hotel in China’s capital?! Mum and I discussed the matter then decided that we would hold our ground. After a day or so of glum faces, politeness and friendliness finally got us a smile out of the door guy. Yes, we were stingy, but we were apparently a lot more polite that other guests.

We walked to the Bird’s Nest, then had Italian in Sanlitun. Nice, but way pricier than imagined. Perhaps it was our comeuppance for not tipping the door guy after he kidnapped our bags earlier in the day. The next day we went to the Temple of Heaven and shopped a lot for tacky souvenirs.

After three visits to Beijing, I’ve become quite fond of it. In fact I would give it a thumbs up. Just don’t put your bags down…
]]>