Guilin it, to win it.

 

Guilin was on my life list. I actually can’t remember how it got there, but most likely I had heard someone talk about their travels there and it got stuck in my memory. Visions of mist covered mountains with a meandering river running through them. An idyllic countryside village. As my sister Holly and I did not have time for it seven years ago, I was adamant about going this time around. When I stepped off the train into the glaring florescent lights of the high rise buildings around me I was immediately disappointed.

If Guilin ever was a romantic countryside village, it no longer was. The tall pointy mountains were still there, but could hardly be seen due to the city that had sprung up around it. Rice paddies, had been replaced with a concrete jungle, farmers, with the hustle and bustle of city life. So much for seeing another side of China. We were picked up from the station by a spunky young Chinese girl from our hostel, WADA, and thank goodness—the hostel was tucked back into a nondescript complex we would have never found on our own in the dark. It was one of those lucky travel moments that you cherish after a long travel day(s). 

We settled into our room, including putting up our mosquito net for the first time to protect us from the mosquitoes that had wandered in from a window that had been left open. As we had been put into a twin room rather than a double, Pearce and I had to squish onto one bed together. It reminded me of college. 

As we had limited energy left that night we wandered out to the common area to grab dinner and sat next to a young couple from the Canary Islands. They actually tipped us off to a trip they were going on the next day, Longji Rice Terraces, if they could get another two people. As we really needed to get out and do something fun, we signed up for the trip as well, knowing little about what it was we were going to see.  I am so happy we did.

The next morning we met our friends from the night before and another couple who also happened to be Spanish, hopped in a minibus and escaped the city. We drove about 2 and a half hours away to the Dazai Village that is part of the Longji rice terraces or the “Dragon’s Backbone”. These terraces are one of the world’s largest and one of the oldest, dating back to almost 1000 years ago. The 26 square miles were officially complete in 1700. The minority group that lives in Dazai are called the Yao. The women are most famous for having extremely long hair, so much so that they are in the Guinness Record holders. You had to pay a fee, like anywhere else in China, to get in but once you did you were free to hike all over the countryside.

Our minibus driver walked our small group through the first village to the start of one of the trails and so up we started. Everywhere you looked it was a scene from National Geographic, whether it was the land or the people, everything was just stunning. Climbing our way up the stone paths we got to see people living their lives: in the fields laying fertilizer, drying seed, or just hanging out with their kids. It was a nice change from the “performance” you see as a tourist in the cities. Not to say there wasn’t a little of that going on, much like any other place we have visited people encouraged us to look at the things they were selling, but here it was almost like an afterthought.

 

We spent most of the day meandering our way through hillsides climbing up one hill, stopping at the top to catch our breath and to take pictures and then winding our way back down the other side. In fact we took so many pictures that we had to head back before we had even finished the whole circuit so that way we could make our bus in time. We did arrive in the starting village with a half an hour to spare so we grabbed some beers and relaxed with our Spanish friends. In the course of our discussions we learned that Sonia from the Canaries was also a doctor and that Alberto from Madrid had worked for Accenture. What a small world!

So in the end, although Guilin proper was overrated, our tour to the countryside more than made up for it and was one of the highlights of our trip so far. The next day we headed off to our next destination, Yangshuo, which we had heard through the backpacker grapevine would totally make up for our Guilin bust.

So who was murdered on the Orient Express?

July 23-24th 2011

It was bound to happen.  After all our travel successes, near misses and lucky strikes, we had to run into some problem, some little misery.  This great karmic travel balance came in the form of a train ride from Shanghai to Guilin.  I don’t particularly care to dwell on such hard times for fear of dampening our spirits or to discourage others travel plans to the far East or far anywhere, and we didn’t take many pictures for reasons that will be obvious so this will keep mostly writing.  As I have found most of life’s greatest stories told over drinks or else ways are the tales of woe that don’t really end in tragedy but help highlight the humor of folly.

Allyson and I had to span a lot of ground to get from Shanghai on the east coast and Guilin in the southern area of the country.  And let me tell you this is a big and splendid country.  Think of it as going from Boston to Miami, via Amtrak.  As a typical American, not from the Northeast, I have done little train travel and Allyson has only done little more in her travels.  However I was told from Allyson and my father, who travelled by train in Asia for business in the 70’s and 80’s, that I was in for some hard travelling.  They told me horror stories of shared chopstick bins (this one scared me enough to buy two pairs of stainless steel chop sticks for me the missus before the trip), railcars that separate in the middle of the night, and people stacked uncomfortably close.

This is not to say I did not believe them.  I did.  I also was thinking about how quintessential it is as a backpacker to try all forms of travel, whether by foot, bus, train or plane.  And in any case I had survived a more than 24 hour total flight time from Atlanta to Beijing, nay thrived thanks to my love of movies and no shortage of on demand cinematic masterpieces like Battle:LA and Hallpass.  It was because of this I agreed, and Allyson would say I convinced her, to a estimated 22-24 hour train ride. On a hard sleeper.

Now there is some terminology that you might already be aware of, but I was not so I will share but I have learned the hard way: A sleeper car is one in which has some semblance of a bed or rack in which one is theoretically supposed to rest or sleep.  A soft sleeper versus a hard sleeper classically refers to the quality of the bed provided.  There are also traditional seats (both hard and soft options as well) which refer, as you might expect, to glorified chairs.  I knew about this much going into the train ticket office in Shanghai.

But with the hour overlong walking trip to the office after getting lost in the sweltering heat, the small ticket booth in which no one speaks “much” English, and the “rude” (see Cultural Relativism) woman who decided her business was more important and literally tries to shove us aside after we had already engaged the ticket lady with our money bills and passports out all led to a little more than a troubled transaction.  Amidst all the distractions there was also no tickets available on the day we wanted, which meant a days delay already.  So when offered the next day with only a hard sleeper option, this comment was easily believed: “there no much difference in hard, soft sleeper.”  Call it lost in translation (interpretation to be more correct, thanks Bill Murray movie), call it flat out lie.  Either way…not true.  The devil is in the details, I guess.

The train station in Shanghai is deceiving.  It was modern, clean and spacious unlike the trains themselves.  We lugged our packs to the station in the evening as this was going to be an overnight train, which 24 hour rides often are eventually.  I think the exact moment I knew we were in trouble was the when I stepped on train car #17.  There was a sense of urgency as most of our fellow passengers, all of whom were native Chinese, we rushing to get on the train despite what we figured out was assigned seating.  This ended up being a dash to get their oversized bags in the bins opposite their beds.  We lost this competition we did not know we had entered, but our bags were eventually stowed several compartments down and locked to the bars.

But before I even had the chance to clumsily navigate the already crowded but not near full train car, I had a glimpse of the privy.  Not much better than the planked outhouse in Mongolia, this was a small room with a hole in the ground and the other walls of this compartment was used for the set of several Saw sequels.  This was made worse by Allyson’s way ill-timed bout of traveller’s diarrhea. 

Then I saw our hard “sleepers.”  Now I should first tell you what I was expecting.  Based on the all the warnings, I did not believe that this would be a luxurious car, like in the titular Agatha Christie book, but I did expect to have some semblance of a compartment; maybe some separation of the area in which we would spend 24 hours.  I thought we might share a compartment with two other people.  In truth there was no separation, only paired bunks, stacked three high in rows of about 30 stacks per car. 

It was then I remembered we had gotten the upper berth or bunks.  I had returned from dead lifting both bags way over my head and wondering how the on-average-shorter-than-me Chinese got their bags up, and found Allyson perched in her top bunk visibly shaken.  At first I just figured it was from the onslaught of visual, auditory, tactile and odorous information pounding me.  But it turns out she had angered a fellow passenger we would share close quarters with for the rest of this trip.  In the chaos, it was not immediately clear how one gets up the upper buck of a triple decker (the stuff only in a child’s fantasy and a parent’s nightmare).  Allyson had stepped on the lower bed to get up to the upper bed and was immediately grabbed on the arm by the man and yelled at in Mandarin.  Daily street Mandarin of banal topics can sound like a shouting match, so I can only imagine what this was like, as I was struggling down the train car.  I think Allyson was more upset because of her role as a anthropologist and her usual sensitivity to cultural norms.  As I see it the stress of the situation deserves a little leeway, but oh well.

So we quickly extricated ourselves as this man was also the head of a very large family that occupied most of the bunks around us.  In the upper bunks you do get a little more privacy, but they are also set maybe 3 feet from the ceiling.  This leads to several problems.  One is that a man of my height, but really of any height cannot sit up or even lean up.  Also when the lights come on, the halogen is a retinal nightmare.  And to top it off this train has speakers adjacent to the top bunks.  If you’re on the bottom it is a mild background sound but on the top it is an auditory assault.  To make it worse it is on a 20-minute loop of bad Chinese pop music and annoying jingle filled commercials that are now burned in our brains.  However Allyson has nailed an impression of the most annoying one featuring the trill of a small child in sing-song Mandarin that makes me laugh every time she does it.

Across each set of six bunks is a small (1-foot by 2 foot) table and fold out chair that while providing an alternate positioning also places ones legs in the “hall” and in the path of all comers.  This was not a great option either, but was an occasional change up to the near constant laying down and staring at the ceiling.  Once to break up the monotony, I tried to find the dining car that I wasn’t sure existed given my experience so far, and eventually I did.  This was after traversing about ten or eleven (I lost count) cars that seemed identical to ours.  I was like a bad Twilight Zone episode and the cars just kept going.  I half expected to run into Allyson and our car despite going one direction.

I did find the soft sleepers though.  Remember the ones that are not so different from ours?  I mean they weren’t exactly luxurious either, but they had doors, soft mattresses and outlets that would have allowed us to watch TV and movies on our netbook to amuse ourselves.  Lesson learned.

When I found the dining car, I was only rewarded with a small car with six small tables all full and served warm beer AFTER I had paid.  I will tell you though that travel like this makes warm beer infinitely more drinkable.  The dining car provided no more solace or comfort during the trip.  

So that is how Allyson and I spent 24 hours and change; crammed in a 3-story bunk bed nightmare with nothing to do but lay down straight, try not think about the linens’ origin, inhale the smoke from the adjacent smoking area with open doors and listening to a baby crying intermittently and wondering if we could so the same.

There has been no sweeter arrival than the one to Guilin…

The West Lake in Hangzhou

July 20th-22nd

After typical travel stress…getting out of the train station, finding the city bus stop, trying to figure out how much to actually pay, getting off on the right (unmarked stop), and then finding the right street with minimal directions…we finally found Hefang International Youth Hostel in Hangzhou. It was double what we have been paying (about $20 a night) for other places as this one charged by person rather than room. Even so, it has been my (A’s) favorite so far. The room was loft style, but painted a cheery blue, with dark wood accents. The bathroom was gorgeous with an Asian inspired above the counter bowl sink and actually had a separate stall for showering. 

This is an exception as most hostels and many hotels in Asia have a dual shower/toilet area. This means you can actually sit on the toilet and take a shower at the same time if you had the fancy. Add in the all-tile room and fluorescent lights and it would make the perfect setting for a horror movie. The room was actually so comfortable we decided to take a “heat of the day” nap and recover from out night out with Jon. We slept until 4 pm!

We headed out of the hostel to get a look around and perhaps try to see the sunset over the West Lake. On our way down our alley we stumbled onto the Traditional Chinese Medicine center and museum. It was in a beautiful old building with ornate wood carvings, open ceilings and tons of traditional supplies that seemed to be separated into sections depending on if you needed herbs, pills, etc.  Chinese people were coming and going picking up the medicinal supplies they needed from the white coated workers. Other customers, myself (A) included, relaxed on the benches while sipping on some hot tea that was sitting out for us. In order to cool the tea off more quickly some large ice blocks were set out in silver bowls for you to set your paper cup on. I (A) drank the tea in hopes that it would help with the stomach issues I had been having, alas it did not. 

I (Pearce) spent some time in the commercial area of the medicine center taking pictures and went into the adjacent museum of traditional Chinese medicine. Unfortunately half of the museum was closed for renovation but also half priced tickets.  I convinced Allyson it was worth it and she joined me.  We saw a collection of tools used to process the natural plants and animals used to make the remedies.  We saw aisles of jars of various plants, flowers and even bizarre animals including geckos, rhinoceros tusks, scorpions and many more.  It was very interesting for me as some of the remedies were listed for controlling convulsions as epilepsy is my area of research interest. 

After the tour we headed down Hefang street towards the lake. The street reminds me of what you would think of old china market street would be, but with a tourist slant. Instead of fruits and vegetables, you can buy silk fans and chops (personalized stamps). The street was packed with Chinese tourists so we moved our way through the crowd pretty quickly to get to the lake. At the end of Hefang street we ran directly into the outskirts of the huge lake. Marco Polo once called the city, “the most beautiful in the world” and I imagine he did so largely because of the lake.

Since it was later in the day we decided to tackle the southeastern portion. The city has done a great job of creating a continuous park around the lake that is beautifully landscaped, but also provides various activities including watercraft, tea houses and even feeding the squirrels. I (A) kid you not, people were gathering en masse to feed squirrels nuts. Pearce and I got a kick out of thinking how they would love our yard! 

 

For dinner we decided to find the Night Food market, but first made a detour to stop at a hair salon for Pearce.  Major language barrier here.  Also I think Asian people don’t often get the chance to cut a thick mane of red-auburn hair.  I wasn’t sure what I was getting into but they gave me a very thorough service with a shampoo-ing both before and after the cut.  They spent a lot of time on it and it cost less than a Supercuts back home.  And I didn’t have to listen to the same sob story my person tells me every time I get a cut in Atlanta.  After my hair maintenance Allyson and I walked back towards Hefang Street via the town’s main sqaure, Wushan Square.  It is plain concrete plaza that marks the end of the tourist area with what I would call a tourist exclamation point in the form a Dairy Queen.  In this square we saw something that surprised us then, but have seen once more already and I imagine will see again in China.  There were more than a hundred Chinese women and a few men doing highly organized and one wonders if “state” organized line dancing.  Yes, apparently a regularly scheduled line dance occurs nightly to promote exercise and presumably harmony among the people.  This was amidst an impromptu roller rink with children and several kite flyers, whose kites could only been seen by virtue of the attached lighting.

The night food market was amazing and so far the best Chinese food we had on our trip. We basically treated it as one long buffet sampling this and that as we walked down, of course like most things we have eaten in China we have no actual idea of what we are eating. My favorite was what I (A) like to think of as a Chinese pulled pork sandwich (I ate in in honor of you, mom) and for Pearce was a Sichuan noodle dish where he got to pick out all the ingredients and somehow managed to get him sweating more than he was before.  It was delicious and so far has been my (P) favorite dish in China.

        

The next morning we slept in due to the comfy cave-like nature of our room. We headed back down towards the lake to try to make it all the way around. Unfortunately the day was hot and hazy and although we made it around 3/4 of the lake we eventually gave up walking for a “pleasure” boat ride. It was pleasurable to get off our feet and in some air conditioning and to see the lake from a different vantage point. We even were able to get off and see one of the  many islands that are in the lake. Even despite the haze it was very easy to see why so many Chinese flock to this beautiful area.

        

After out lake venture we decided to escape the heat and do happy hour at one of the many Western bars along Nangang Road that runs along the side of the Lake. There we drank $1.50 beers with a Swiss guy, named Lucas, who was on a year long voyage he just started (after having done one two years ago). He was full of good tips on travel through both China and the rest of Southeast Asia. 

After getting nicely refreshed we headed back to the Night food market because we thought nothing could go better with beer than street food! We decided to try a new stall which included picking a bunch of different vegetables, meats and spices to make a stir fry, or so we thought. With the women’s urging I (A) order a ton of different things and then sat behind the stall at a little plastic table with chairs next to two young Chinese men. They were very friendly and offered us some of their beer and some of their food. It was when I studied their food I realized I may have ordered in error. Rather than one big stir-fry with a little of each, it seemed that each dish was brought out separately with a lot in each. This was confirmed in short order when item by item each dish was brought out piled high in its own container. Luckily, after a ridiculous amount of food, most of which would could not possible finish, it still only came out to like $15 and provided a lot of amusement of us and I am sure the Chinese around us as well.

The next morning we did some quick shopping and then headed back to Shanghai where we had to stay for one night before our big trek South. As we won’t be in a big city again for awhile we decided to hit up a Chinese movie theater. We tracked one down at the end of East Najing street in a big high rise building. We had to preorder our tickets which came with actual seat numbers. 

We then had a few hours to kill so we found a tiny little Chinese café where we had dumplings, soup and greens. We had a dinner date too. There was a café cat that hung around Pearce looking for him to throw some dumplings to eat. He must have known I wouldn’t dare share a delicious dumping with him! The movie experience was quite interesting, culturally speaking. the actual movie, Transformer 3 in 3D was crap. It was a very big theater, with each person having their own seat. They also allow food, but it is not candy like we have but actual dinner food, like chicken wings and garlic bread and beef jerky! They also have movie previews which people talked through, but what was really surprising was they kept talking throughout the whole movie. Part of it was about the movie, like in reaction, but part of it had nothing to do with the movie. For instance, the girl next to me answered her phone and talked on it sitting right next to me. Another interesting thing was at an especially intense part the whole audience started making a hissing sound. If someone out there knows what that was, please educate us!

For me (P), Hangzhou was second only to the Great Wall of China so far in our travels.  It had come as a recommendation from my colleague who is from here and says, like Marco Polo, that it is the best in China and the world.  I can see now why both Marco and my friend Tao think so.  This place with the lake is really something hard to capture with words and images and should be a part of anyone’s itinerary in China.

The next day was our train travel day, but that is a post of an entirely different color!

Shanghai's and Lows

Call it China, Redux. After much delay, thanks again Air China, we arrived in Shanghai…the first site on our tour new to both of us. My (Pearce) father, Andy warned me several times about the sheer number of people that resided in Shanghai.  I (Pearce) think the word trillion was entertained.  So here is a picture of the Bund, one of the major tourist sights and considered the “center” of the city.

Kidding aside, Andy was right about the amount of people.  There is an eyeful of Chinese people in almost any view that wasn’t our hostel room.  Shanghai is a very modern city, but a modern Chinese city.  The difference can be seen most easily with the way of life. So although walking through parts with new flashy buildings, you might at times feel like you are in New York City or Barcelona, you never are entirely fooled, for in a modern Chinese city you will still see a woman wrestling a giant eel-like fish back into a tub of water that it had managed to jump out of onto the filth strewn sidewalk. I (Allyson) know this from first hand experience.

We arrived to our hostel late in the night after taking the metro or subway which was very nice.  We felt much safer on their subway than either the MARTA in Atlanta and the L in Chicago.  I (Pearce) should take a brief second, in the hopes I do not jinx us, to say I have felt very safe in all of Asia so far.  Our hostel did not have the room we reserved for us so say gave us an upgrade for the first two nights of three.  So we had a loft style room in the Bund Blue Mountain Youth Hostel, which was oddly placed on the sixth floor of an office building.  It was one of the nicer hostels with a very accommodating staff and nice café/bar attached with very cold and cheap Asian beer.  We went to sleep the first night after some post travel day beers.

We slept in the next day, enjoying our deluxe hostel room.  Insert mandatory Starbucks stop here.  Yes folks, we broke our “American chain” seal here in Shanghai, not that this should surprise anyone who knows Allyson.  Before you judge, just know that Starbucks provides 1) air conditioning, 2) free internet 3) Venti Green Tea soy latte, hold the syrup…for those of you who don’t know, try. I (Pearce) was ashamed but I quickly swallowed my pride with a delicious Frappuccino. I (Allyson) was joyous to be reunited with a long last pal.  Unfortunately our American gluttony did not end there. Pearce also saw a Dunkin’ Donuts across the street and the boy really loves a doughnut, or four. Plus the unique flavors and kinds of donuts intrigued me (Pearce)… until I ate them.  They were awful and Allyson dared me into the shaved pork and seaweed donut.  My hopes that such an exotic combination would be paradoxically good were dashed in a single bite.

After our culinary delights, we casually walked down to the Bund.  The Bund refers to the muddy river bank that defined a lot of Shanghai’s eastern geography and played a key role in its largesse as a major port town in history.  Instead of a muddy back in is very built up on both sides.  On the Western bank there is the “old” Bund which consists of a series of large building built primarily in the 1920’s and consists of old state buildings that are now banks, hotels and shops with very few retaining their original purpose.  Across the Bund the very modern skyline and vision of the future.  Many very tall and modern skyscrapers have risen in the last ten years and form and very distinctive skyline and contrast to the older Bund.  We strolled up and down the banks of the older side.

It was extremely hot in the middle of the day (and really at any point of the day) and this is something we have be dealing with since leaving Mongolia where we had a freak cold snap.  I cannot imagine the heat getting better as we head to South to Southeast Asia in August but oh well we have ways to beat the heat.  We have been meticulous about keeping and using a supply of water. This involves two 2-liter camelpacks, several Nalgene water bottles and the gift that keeps on giving: the Steripen.  I am not huge on product placement, especially when I am not getting paid but this sucker is worth its weight in gold.  This is a product not known to many, but we have had this since we bought supplies for Hawaii (Hi Jason and Cami!).  It is a small pen-like object with a UV light and a sensor that purifies clear water sources a liter at a time of 99.9% of bacteria and viruses in about a minute.  This negates carrying heavy water in a long hike and having to buy expensive bottles of water. There is one downside to it though, it is an extreme battery hog and we have already gone through one set of specialty batteries and are currently using our spares. Hopefully, they will make the rest of the trip.

Tangent over, as we had spent most of the day catching up on emails and planning our next leg, we felt we needed to actually “do” something China related. We landed on getting some authentic Chinese food for dinner.  We had done our research and found a very cool restaurant called Chun in a article by an ex-pat from our lovely state of Georgia who is now the editor and chief of a web based magazine called Shanghaiise.  I liked the idea of the restaurant because it had several cool factors: 1. It is hard to find. 2. They only have 4 tables and require reservations.  3. The woman who owns and operates the small restaurant can only say “Hallo” and “Eat” in English. 4. And because she speaks no English, one is instructed to have someone who can write the following in Chinese characters: “Feed me well.” and then hang on.  We got there in the nick of time with the risk of losing our spot at one of the four tables after a hair-raising cab ride across Shanghai.  We sat down and handed the lady our card saying the instructions above.  The results were an onslaught of duck seasoned in sweat and sour, cold chicken strips, kale? like vegetables, fresh and large crawfish, a whole fish in a hoison sauce, cold mung bean? soup, with loose leaf green tea to wash it all down.  We had arrived at the golden hour of 6:30 because not five minutes after our arrival there was a long line forming outside as the sun went down.

Post dinner we strolled around the area we were in which was full of funky little boutiques, hip cafes, and trendy spas. We are not sure because of the hectic race to the restaurant, but we now think we were in an area called the French Concession, which we visited more assuredly the next day.  At my behest, we returned to the Bund that night because I wanted to see the town literally lit up.  We had heard that the best view was actually from across the way on the “Riverwalk” side of the river. It took us awhile to figure out how to get across, but I am so happy we persevered because we were able to experience the wonder that is The Bund Underground Tunnel. I could go into a lot of detail trying to explain the details of the magical experience, but instead I think you should wait and see it for yourself when we repost with the video when we are out of China again. For now, just imagine the tunnel from Willy Wonka mixed with the Epcot globe ride, but on a really really tight budget and with confused and rapidly interchanging themes including aquatic and outer-space.

We strolled, or more adequately strategically walked (remember the billions of people) around the Riverside area checking out the incredible views while avoiding the hawkers (right now there is a tie for best on street tschosky between the clip on roller skates that light up and the light up missiles that you launch into the air only to helicopter down slowly into your hands).

The next day we attempted to find the nebulously defined neighborhood or area called the French Concession. This was an area for the French consulate and trading companies back when that was a big deal.  There were other areas for other principalities but none that have endured as well culturally. We had left our hostel without actually doing any of the necessary work to actual get us there though. Big mistake. In China where most people still do not speak/read English, we have found it most helpful to have 1) a map (obvious right) 2) Chinese name of the area written by a Chinese person 2) the phone number of said place so the cab can call to figure out where they are going. We did have a map, but it did not have the area marked on it and unfortunately most Chinese do not actually recognize the term French Concession. This resulted in some travel bumps but also a chance encounter with some architects from Decatur, Georgia (really?!?!) and appropriately a French woman. We finally landed in the neighborhood and escaped the heat in a French brasserie called Le Selaye (spelling?) where we enjoyed stinky cheese and I (Allyson) got delicious Champagne. Worth every penny. 

Later that evening we met up with one of my (Pearce) old friend’s boyfriend.  Lindsey Cohen and her sister lived about five houses down from me and we went to grade and high school together.  Lindsey’s boyfriend, Jon, has been working in Shanghai for the last several years and generously offered to show us the town.  He took us to a great Yunnan style restaurant in the middle of the French Concession.  The name I (Pearce) have forgotten and failed to write down (Jon feel free to educate us in the Comments), but it was delicious. We had several dishes that were wrapped in banana leaves, some special mushrooms from Yunnan, and a melt in your mouth fish.  It was a treat to eat Yunnan food as this region is known for its cuisine and we will not have the chance to go on this visit. 

The tour did not stop there. Jon then showed us a evening on the Bund and in Shanghai that we would have never seen had it not been for him.  He took us to a rooftop bar on the Bund where we enjoyed the view and probably too many drinks.  We really enjoyed meeting and spending time with Jon and he is a very interesting, gracious and enthusiastic guy.   Plus I (Pearce) got to talk to Lindsey on a rare international call.  Sorry I (Pearce) had to go to Shanghai just to give you a ring, Lindsey.

The next morning we woke up to head to one of the most beautiful cities of China, and according to Marco Polo, the world: Hangzhou. We had heard about it from Pearce’s colleague at Emory who is from there and knew we could not miss out. So accordingly, we hopped on a high-speed train (thankfully not the one that crashed) and arrived 45 minutes later.