epresenting Cyprus in the Mediterranean is Stephanie Solomonides, a 25-year-old IT Implementation Officer from Nicosia. Endlessly enthusiastic and full of energy, Stephanie hopes that her participation in the expedition will enable her to tell more people about her country as well as inspiring other young people in Cyprus to push their boundaries and fulfil their dream


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epresenting Cyprus in the Mediterranean is Stephanie Solomonides, a 25-year-old IT Implementation Officer from Nicosia. Endlessly enthusiastic and full of energy, Stephanie hopes that her participation in the expedition will enable her to tell more people about her country as well as inspiring other young people in Cyprus to push their boundaries and fulfil their dream


epresenting Cyprus in the Mediterranean is Stephanie Solomonides, a 25-year-old IT Implementation Officer from Nicosia. Endlessly enthusiastic and full of energy, Stephanie hopes that her participation in the expedition will enable her to tell more people about her country as well as inspiring other young people in Cyprus to push their boundaries and fulfil their dream

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My Little Tibet

A few things I forgot to mention in the last entry:
  • The trip to Chengdu was the first trip that allowed me to see China through the window - before it wasn't that possible because I took several night trains.  Chengdu is in the province of Sichuan and the countryside is beautiful, with fields and mountains but every now and then the beauty is ruined by numerous factories that breathe out smoke and with the dwellings of the factory workers and the occasional farm with geese running freely.  All this added to an omnipresent fog gave everything a slightly depressing grey tone.  This fog seems to be all over China and I don't know if it's smog, dust, mist or a mixture of all of them, but it's rare to see the sun without this invisiple cover which hides its power.

 

  • As soon as I got to my hostel in Chengdu, a girl said to me, hey, I recognise you, we saw each other in Mongolia!!!  I was astonished because I didn't remember her.  Then she gave me more clues and I remembered who she was.  I think we spoke for 5 minutes while we tried to look for a tour through the Gobi.  Strangely she said to me that she remembered me because I was South American.  This made me think a bit and it's true.  Apart from 2 Peruvian girls that I met in Russia and 3 Argentinians in Beijing I haven't met any other Latin American.  But they do leave their mark, particularly in hostels where you can do graffiti on the walls.
 
  • When I came back from seeing the giant Buddha, I took a bus that left me God knows where in Chengdu.  From there I took another bus that I thought would take me to the centre.  There was no sign in English to tell me the direction of the bus.  Suddenly I heard the following: 'ladies and gentlemen, please do not take explosives onto the bus, thank you'.  The first time this was funny but then it became annoying because the message was repeated at each bus stop.  
 
  • A couple of entries ago I said that my grandmother had to be begged to be taken to the park.  I thought about this a bit and should correct it; on the contrary, she is the one who is most enthusiastic and the first one to get ready.  Other members of the family, however, need to be dragged from the house, but my grandmother is the one who beats everyone when it comes to having energy.  
One of the objectives of this trip around the world was to see Tibet and Everest base camp, but as the Chinese specialise in ruining things and Tibet is no exception, I started to think about whether to go or not.  Travelling there is very restricted now.  You need to go there as part of a tour and the tours are very expensive.  In addition, you can't just wander around freely (as you could do a couple of years ago).  The solution is to find a group of backpackers who want to do the same tour as you and for the same amount of time and agree on the price and paperwork.  I saw so many people running around like crazy, waiting for an email, trying to get a group and getting stressed more and more each time, and I was put of the idea of going through the same process.  Even more, the Chinese constructed a railway that goes across the Tibetan plain until Lhasa, the capital of Tibet, with the aim of promoting the migration of Han Chinese (the biggest ethnic group in China) and thereby crushing the Tibetan culture.  They have employed this tactic in different parts that they have reconquered and it has worked well for them.  This means that Tibet has already lost much of its authenticity.  The last thing that motivated me not to go to Tibet was when, speaking to a traveller (who strangely had a tattoo of the Colombian flag on his backside; just to be clear, I didn't see it), he told me that you can see 'sky burials', something that's very difficult to see in Tibet and it's something that has interested me for several years.  At the end I decided to go to the region near the Tibetan border in the province of Sichuan (which apparently is more Tibetan than Tibet).
The place I chose to start my exploration of the mini Tibet was a city called Litang.  To get there you have to go through another city called Kanding where I spent a night.  There I got to know Adam, a Chinese guy I had a few beers with.  At one moment Adam started singing because a romantic Chinese song was inspired by a mountain in Kanding, although I think that his voice was not the most romantic.  The following day I took a bus that took me to Litang on a journey that started at 5am and that was full of bumps from the bad road.  When I arrived in Litang I met up with the same English guy who spoke to me about the sky burial (yes, the one with the tattoo on his arse).  He told me that he still hadn't seen a funeral because the regional lama was sick and the bodies hadn't been blessed.

A sky burial is a religious ceremony that was created because the ground in the Tibetan region is very hard and difficult to dig, so it's to give the dead eternal rest.  The Tibetan lamas bless the body and designate a cutter whose job it is to cut up the body so that the vultures eat it.  The whole body has to be devoured by the birds, a process that becomes more complicated when the animals tear up the body and leave just the skeleton.  Then the cutter patiently takes each bone individually and hits it with an axe until they become a mixture that the vultures swallow up easily.  Only at that point is the funeral considered sacred and complete.  This process can last several hours.  The longest part is the bone preparation.  The funeral that I was able to witness took almost 4 hours due to the size of the dead body.  At the beginning the Tibetans seemed a bit reluctant at our presence but then they relaxed and became very friendly, trying to tell us stories in Tibetan and playing with our cameras.  I ended up helping to scare vultures as they became very impatient when the mortar of bones was almost ready and they had to be kept away from the reach of the cutter.  After this they offered us some tea that tasted really strange and a type of salty pastry cooked on the ashes.  I took a lot of photos and videos, but to avoid repulsion and out of respect for the deceased I am not putting them on this blog.
Something that made me feel a bit disappointed was seeing how this religious ritual is turning into a tourist attraction.  It's more about going to the place, taking photos, buying the tshirt and moving onto the next destination.  It bothers me a bit maybe because for me it has been something fascinating, something that has interested me for some time and not something else to add to a list of things I've seen on my trip.  I suppose that each one sees whatever he wants with whatever binoculars he wants.  Litang is at 4014 metres so the nights were quite cold and it was very easy to burn.  The air was also very thin and it made it difficult to walk.
The afternoon after the funeral, I started having altitude sickness: headache, generally feeling unwell, and then it turned into what felt like a type of cold.  Altitude sickness is something that can happen to anyone no matter how healthy or how many mountains you have scaled, and the fact that I grew up at 2600 does not count either.  There are people who scale 5000 metre mountains and then get altitude sickness at 3000.  It's a really horrible feeling and you can bleed internally if you don't get it treated appropriately.  I did what I could to avoid it and became enthusiastic about walking through Litang, where people were much nicer than in China proper, unfortunately you see a lot more poverty and beggars though.
I spent another day with these symptoms and on the third day I decided to go to a lower altitude.  That night I met Julien and Claire, French, who live on the island Reunion, and I also met the Min family from Korea - a father and son that were very nice.  On the next day I took the first mini van to a town called Daocheng that is at 3650 metres.
There in Daocheng I felt better, with even fewer travellers and the place seemed more remote.  There were several mountains I walked across on the two adys that I was there but I still felt weak because of the altitude and I decided to listen to my body and took another bus (a painful and uncomfortable journey of 11 hours) that took me to a city called Shangri-la.  On the bus I met the French couple and other travellers and we ended up on the same hostel.  I was a bit sad to leave Daocheng.  It had a special charm and that was that there was nothing special there.  There were no tourists and no important attraction, only Tibetans living their everyday lives.  Something I noticed there and in the whole TIbetan zone was that Tibetans are more focused on maintaining their identities, their customs and religion, whereas the Han Chinese  with their good business aptitudes are those that have the restaurants, shops and the rest.  Maybe that's why you see more beggars in this area. 
In Shangri-la which is situated at 3000m above sea level, I felt a bit better, but still with a type of flu, I decided to hire a bike and explore the area.  I particularly wanted to go to a temple called Sumtselling Gumpa which is the most important temple in Southeast china and as a rule in China you have to pay an exaggerated amount to enter.  Two years ago the entry fee was 10 yuean, last year it was 55 and this year it's 85!!!  It's not fair at all.  I decided to leave the monastery for later and started to go around the mountain that was in front of the monastery.  After a bit more than an hour of walking I arrived at a village where the monastery was.  Two smiley Tibetan villagers showed me the way.  That's how I saved myself from paying the entry and that made me enjoy the place more.  But what I didn't pay in the ticket price I certainly paid in memories.  I loved the place, with monks everywhere, walking around, welcoming, without pretensions, with the freedom of walking erratically along the lanes of the monastery and at times even getting involved in the life of the monks themselves.  This was the Tibet that I had imagined in my mind and I was not disappointed with my choice.  The Buddhist temples are full of colours and life, with murals where red, yellow, blue and gold were abundant - very different from the sombre Catholic churches.
The sunset in the monastery at Shangri-la is phenomenol.  The wind makes the bells that adorn the roofs of the temple ring, the constant sound of the wind with very low tones and the unison voice of the monks that repeat prayers.  Suddenly you see a monk that hurries to the temple as he is late to the celebration.  What a wonderful place.  The city of Shangri-la was really beautitul, with its stones streets and a type of square where at night you they did typical dances and all are invited to participate.  The following day my flu got worse and I spent it in a bookshop of a Tibetan cooperative (where I also bought my souvenirs).
On my last day at Shangri-la I went to the post office to send a packet to my sisters.  As in Colombia the postal service is almost inexistent, every time I sent post I feel that it's something special.  I feel a bit worried that it's going to get lost in the post.  But I also imagine the route it might take, how many hands it might pass through... I can visualise the postman with his uniform walking down the streets where my family leaves, leaving the packet at the front door.  I feel the emotion, the joy, my sisters' beating hearts at the seemingly inexorable moment of opening the packet to discover its contents.  
From there I left for the "tiger leaping gorge" which is a 2-day walk.  When I got to the entrance I bumped into Julien and Clare who were going to stay in Jane's Guesthouse.  Jane is a really special person.  Some guidebooks describe her as her but actually it's him.  For some reason I insisted on the French couple having a private room, leaving me in my private room :S  The walk is not difficult, nor is it particularly spectacular, but it's still worth it and has plenty of places to eat and sleep and is not a particular challenge.  Well, there is some challenge and that's when you want to go to the riverside.  A large number of families have discovered that it's good business to rip off tourists by claiming that they had built individual parts of the journey and therefore you have to give them money and of course the ticket that you have bought at the entrance is not valid.  When Den Xiaoping told the Chinese that it was time to get rich, they took him very seriously.  In spite of these disappointments and irritations, this was a very beautiful part of the trip, seeing the rapids, the forceo f the water and the eternal noise it makes while it follows its bed.  The legend says that a tiger jumped from one side to another side of the river where it is very narrow but we didn't see the stone because another family 'constructed' a bridge of 1m width and you had to give an obligatory 'contribution'.  Along the way we bumped into the Min family, with whom we ended up going to Lijiang, another small city in Disneyland style, full of souvenir shops, places to sleep and eat and many tourist traps.
 
In Lijang I met up with the Min family who were really funny and full of energy, although a bit enigmatic.  Another positive point of going around with the Min family is that their son, Stefano (his name in English that he doesn't like) spoke Chinese, which meant that we tried more varied food and with more taste than what we had been eating.  We ate quite good dishes of fish, pork, shrimps, vegetables, soups, intestines, tofu etc, and I can confirm that Chinese food doesn't make my taste buds jump out of my mouth. Alll these dishes were eaten in different meals, lunches, dinners, brunches, that I shared with the Min and ocassionally Julien and Claire.
 
Two of my nights in Lijiang I spent in some discomfort because of a cockerel that had the habit of crowing incessantly between 2 and 7am.  I was the only one who heard it.  What happened to those times where I could sleep through a party?  Lijiang is in the province of Yunnan, famous for being a province with great ethnic variety.  You can appreciate this clearly.  Every city seems to have a distinct group with different clothing.  In Lijiang for example there are many Naxi who are a matriarcal society and have a language of hieroglyphics which is still used today.  One afternoon I went by bike to a Naxi village called Baisha.  There I saw some beautiful art of creating paintings with threads.  Very impressive - many of them looked like paintings, with different levels and colour tones, but when you get closer you can see that they are made completely out of thread.  Some of them took several years to be finished.
There's a city in the south of Lijiang called Dali.  I didn't think of going there but was thinking of going directly from Lijiang to Kunming, but I ended up with the Min family after another delicious lunch, on a train to Dali.  The train had a delay of several hours so I finished Crime and Punishment by Dostoyevsky.  I think that my punishment was having to share the carriage with a child that was really noisy, a phenomenon that is easy to predict in China with the 1 child policy: 2 parents + 4 grandparents = 1 chinese brat
In Dali we met up again with Julien and Claire and an Israeli couple we'd met in Shangri-la as well as Daniel, another French guy.  Now I'm in Dali where I've had some great times playing amnesia, chess and just having a laugh.  One day we tried to go to a mountain from where in theory there's a good view but it was closed because it was very windy and the funicular wasn't working and no, you couldn't walk up.
On another day I decided to cycle to a village and from there take a boat back across a lak that was opposite Dali.  To my great surprise and sadness, the language barrier and bad information made me spend a long time on the bike along paths that were under construction, full of rocks.  I arrived at several vilalges but couldn't find the boat that would take me to the other side of the lake.  It was getting dark and the worry and tiredness were starting to play with my mind. Suddenly I saw a bus that took me to the new Dali that was 14km from where I was staying.  I finished the day with 11 hours of cycling, pain in many parts of my body but only a pathetic 90km covered.  I think that if the path had been better I would have managed to take the ferry and wouldn't have spent so long getting back.  Fortunately on my return Julien waited for me with a really cold beer.
Today the Min family left for the south, but before that they invited me to a that they had been invited to wedding (the advantage of speaking the language) and I was glad to accept and there we ate, laughed and waited to see the couple that went through many local customs before committing to each other.  This was a marriage from the Bai ethnic group, which I don't know much about :S
Tomorrow I'm going to Kunming, the capital of Yunnan and from there I plan to go to Guilin, another really touristy place that has the famous Chinese mountains.  Till next time.
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Pandamonium

Xian was the ancient Chinese capital which marked the beginning (or the end) of the silk route.  It has thousands of years of tradition and history so it has become a traveller hangout.  Many people choose to come directly from Beijing on a night train in 'hard sleeper' class, but I took a detour in Datong which I've already spoken about a bit and I also went to another city called Pingyao.  Apparently Pingyao is the best conserved ancient city in China.  It has a wall that surrounds the old quarter and has allowed it to be preserved almost intact, I say almost because there are two main streets which are full of souvenir shops, restaurants and hotels.  What there is to see can be done in one or two days, but I spent 4 days there!!  Not because I like the city that much but because I refuse to take a night train on a 'hard sleeper'; I've heard a lot of stories of how unpleasant and unique (not in a good way) this experience is and I'll do it only if I don't have a choice.  It wasn't so bad to take it easy in Pingyao.  On the second day I met Agathe, a French girl who was going to do voluntary work in Nepal.  Agathe and I spent the following days walking around the city, seeing the attractions and talking in general.  We were shocked at how much we had in common – literary tastes, family and lifestyle.

 

As there are so many hostels and hotels in Pingyao, they're all desperate for clients, so they offer to pick you up and drop you off at the station for free, and they give presents when you leave the room.  Another sign of the overdevelopment in China, a very common phenomenon.

 

Another night train to Xian and Agathe and I went our separate ways.  I started to walk around the city, eating fried squid in the street, seeing Chinese opera in the park (it sounds like wailing cats) and appreciating the Muslim quarter.  The most famous attraction in Xian is the Terracota warriors which are one hour from the city; that was one of my aims in China, so on the next day, albeit not very early, I went to see them.  Before you get to the entrance you have to walk 7 minutes along a narrow street also full of souvenir shops, so many that it made me wonder whether to see the original warriors!  I could have stayed to see the numerous real-size replicas along the path.  When I went in there were thousands of Chinese tourists that pushed to be able to take a photo and move to the next 'photo opportunity'.  The worst thing was that the statues were quite far back so you couldn't see the details properly – the distinct characteristics of each statue, which is what seems most interesting to me.  Fortunately there was a museum with a few statues in a display cabinet and with the help of a bit of patience and elbowing you can see how wildly colossal this work is.

 

That night in my hostel I met Angus, a 19 year old Australian guy who came to eat with me.  The technique I use to decide where to eat is to see where and what people are eating.  If what I see looks good I order one for me.  This time there was a sign recommending no idea what speciality.  I decided to try it and it turned out to be a mixture of transparent noodles in a very slimy sauce with half raw egg and a load of stuff that I had no idea of – something floury like cereal with an insipid taste.  What I did know was that my body refused to digest it properly and made the following days in Xian slow and difficult.  On one of the next few days I had dinner with Angus and Mare.  Mare had travelled from his native Croatia to China by land.  He entertained us for a while with stories of Pakistan and Iran, and the combination of beer and more greasy food didn't help my weak stomach.  I had planned to go to the Hua mountain on the following day but I had to postpone it, but it didn't matter much as I was corrupted by reading 'The Godfather'.

 

I eventually stopped postponing my trip to the Hua mountain (one of the 5 sacred Taoist mountains).  I was a bit tired of cities and smog and wanted to see a bit of nature and maybe sun.  I started the walk with three English people I'd met on the bus.  They went too fast for me and I was still weak from the lack of food in the previous days, and I was beggining to feel horrible , after a while they calmed down the pace because the mountain was very steep.  A large part of the walk has chains on the sides of the path to help people go up the almost vertical ascent.


When we arrived at the main bit of the mountain from where people walk to the 5 important peaks (north, south, central, east, west), we bumped into thousands of Chinese people who had taken the lazy and expensive option of the cable car.  From there we carried on going up the 'dragon's back', named so because it looks like the back of dragon, and we arrived just at sunset at the eastern peak.  I told myself that had we gone up at my pace, it would have got dark as we were going up.  We spent the night in the hostel at the eastern peak and only an English guy called Wayne and I got up at 5.30 to walk to the eastern peak to see the sunrise.  All that effort to see the horizon full of clouds.  The good thing was that it wasn't at all cold .  We waited a good while and after giving up we saw the sun come out from the clouds on the horizon and we were glad not to have wasted the early morning.


Hua mountain is known for having one of the most dangerous walks in the world.  This is because until a few years ago it was possible to do the walk along narrow planks that were placed on a precipice.  Now this fun has been ruined and there are cables and harnesses  in this section.  Even still it was a fun part and Wayne, who had a fear of heights, was very excited to have been able to do it.  After this short and emotional journey there is a cave that serves as a Taoist temple.  That explains why people go on such a dangerous pilgrimage, as a sacrifice.


We went to see the two remaining peaks on the way back to Xian.  I spoke to Wayne about lots of things, especially the UK.  He was very sociable and kind, characteristic of people in the north of England.  I was really happy to have done the walk.  My body felt renewed and full of energy.  So many cities had left me a bit tired, although I also felt that my new energy was being drawn away on again arriving at the central path and going up the northern peak where the groups of tourists contaminated the place with their presence.

 

That night in my hostel I was taken over by temptation and ate roast meat, because my body didn't want to go back to Chinese food yet.  I don't think all that much of Chinese food.  The taste doesn't seem exquisite or addictive and often seems to be just a load of really greasy noodles with 3 or 4 pieces of some cheap tasteless vegetables.  When they put meat in it it is such a small quantity with miniscule bits of grease with meat but tends to be more grease.  It's the type of food that doesn't fill you up but rather gives you enough energy until the next meal.  I think that's why the Chinese are so skinny.

 

Another eventless night train to Chengdu.  There I met up with Angus again and we went out to eat with 2 British guys full of energy.  At first I liked Chengdu.  There's no old town but it has a good feel about it.  There I tried the best food I've had in China, a soup with pig's leg that didn't taste like Chinese food, and I also had a good time with other travellers.  One of those nights we went out on the town and arrived at a street full of bars that was so full of life that we could hear the sound of the birds and insects on the surrounding trees, so we escaped from that place and ended up in a much more appropriate area.  It was Halloween and some people were dressed up.  The best bit was when a couple of Mafia chiefs fought amongst themselves to give us shots and have us as their friends. It was as if they were saying, you stole my foreigners, no – you stole them from me, they were mine first…


Among other things I saw the panda conservation centre which was full of pandas and people making noises like 'so cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute'.  I also went to Leshan to see the biggest Buddha in the world and yes, it was huge!!

That's how my days in Chengdu were spent, with travellers in the hostel, deciding which route to take, getting massages.  One of the massages was done with cups.  It left red marks on my skin which look as if I had chicken pox on steroids.

 

I met really cool people in Chengdu and I quite liked the place.  Apparently it's the second favourite city for Chinese people to live in.  I left Chengdu one morning after having been out, and I slept a large part of the journey to a town called Kangdin, but that story is for the next blog entry.

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Pekinese

I carried on sleeping while they changed the wheels of the train, as Chinese railways have different sizes to Russian ones.  When I woke up it was already morning at a train station.  I remembered that Demian and Joe (those from the Mongolian group) got off it Datong and I went towards their compartment (first of all taking a toilet break).  When I arrived they had already got off (then I found out that they had looked for me while I was in the toilet) and I couldn't say goodbye from a couple that was so energetic.  It was a shame and I went to look through the window, capturing bits of the Great Wall from time to time.  Not only that but you could see something that you couldn't see before: people, constructions, farms, roads, development.  We were definitely not in Mongolia.  Silvia asked me where I was going to stay in Beijing and I told her I would stay in the Hutong.  She asked me which and I told her in the Hutong.  She released me from my ignorance by telling me that hutong is a collection of alleyways of typical Chinese life, with eating places everywhere, incessant bicycle bells, people screaming and throwing yuans in card games, a thousand and one shops, public toilets and many Chinese flag.  That's how my hutong was and the best part was that it was very untouristy.

I was invited that same night to an underground Chinese metal concert, that looked promising, but before I went out I met 3 Argentinian girls: Julia, Yael and Romina, and had to choose between spending the night with 3 really nice girls or to see people moshing Chinese style.  I decided to hang around chatting and left the metal of my adolescence.  When we went to have something to eat we couldn't stop looking at people taking their dogs for a walk and saying, this one's going in the pan, this one's really skinny, this one looks like it's going to taste bad.  Luckily that night we didn't end up eating dog but a really spicy dish with camaroni and pepper.

The next day I met up with Silvia in front of the forbidden city, of which nothing is forbidden!!  As tehre was a festive week in China for the commemoration of 60 years since the founding of the republic, Silvia and I had an emotional shock at seeing how many Chinese people there were everywhere.  It was incredible, Chinese people to the left and right, Tiananmen Square, which is the largest in the world, looked like a jungle of people that moved erratically in all directions.  That's why I say that the forbidden city is no longer forbidden, because there were also crowds of people everywhere, so much so that we kept having to take breaks.  After the immensity and solitude of Mongolia, China is a very strong mental challenge.  The forbidden city was enormous and somehow monotonous.  Yes, it's beautiful and grand but after a short time the buildings look the same with very few interesting variations (the same goes for all the temples I have seen in China), so that after a few hours of break-crowds-break, we decided to leave and go to Jinghshan park located in the north of the forbidden city, and it was necessary to free ourselves a bit from the crowds.  I say a bit because the park was also full of people.


We stayed in the park until sunset and from there wer left for the night market where you can buy lots of weird stuff.  It's a really touristy place as the same people take photos next to spines with scorpions and noodle dishes.  Before you ask me, no, I did not eat dog, and yes, I did eat other interesting things, among them: scorpions (crunchy), silk worms (with the taste of sand), seahorse (it tastes like fried fish), starfish (crispy and a bit strange in the centre) and some other things I don't remember very well.  One of the things that I most liked to find was a type of Kumis, like the Colombian one. I hadn't tried one of those for ages.  We finished off the day in Tiananmen Square where in spite of being almost 11pm there were still thousands of Chinese tourists.  I was reduced to a state of idiocy watching the military parade that was constantly being presented on 2 enormous screens (also on the metro and on buses).  It goes without saying that the Chinese want to show off to the world with their military arsenal and barbaric capacity of coordinating and managing large masses.

The following days I carried on with my touristy activities, more temples and also the Olympic park.  The Olympic stadium is very impressive with its bird nest design.  It reminded me that in the market they sold bird nests to eat.  In theory the bird saliva mixed with straw works as a type of encouragement.  I didn't try that one either.

One of those days Silvia convinced me to try Pekinese duck in an elegant place.  I went because they say it's really worth it and really delicious.  When we arrived they sent us to the 5th floor, so imagine the size of the place.  We ordered a duck between two of us and one of a thousand chefs came and cut it in front of us.  Then they gave us the duck's identity card (I suppose its the cage where it lived) and we ate.  If I'm honest, it didn't impress me.  It tasted of home-made duck, the difference being that the skin was not dry and crispy but soft and very fatty.  They manage this by inflating the duck before cooking it until the skin comes away from the meat.

Something I really admire of Chinese culture is that they go to parks a lot, to walk, to dance in groups, to play cards, stretch and relax.  It's strange seeing the old people stretching using the different facilities that have been installed for that or doing gymnatics, somersaults in the air tied to a bar as I saw with Thomas and Silvia (we tried and didn't even reach half of the required height) or another time they were playing instruments and a large group of passers-by came to sing in unison the songs that surely bring them memories of their childhoods, or whole families (from grandfather to child) stamping a type of saucer with feathers in the air.  I remember how difficult it was to get my grandmother out to play volleyball. Those parks are very welcoming.

One of those nights I was speaking with the Argentinian girls and they told me they wanted to go to the Great Wall to sleep there one night.  I liked the idea and we started discussing the issue, concluding that it was very cold without a sleeping bad (I'm really wimpy about the cold) and we didn't find a place to rent one so they organised a place where we could stay in a village close to the wall.  The idea was to arrive at a place called Jinshanling and then walk 10km to the village called Simatai.  We arranged to meet at 8am but like good Latin Americans left only at 9, making us miss the bus to Jonshanling.  We took the next bus and after several hours it left us in the middle of the motorway, in a place where there was nothing, only a police station.  From there we managed to arrive at the right place but before that we had a few problems with police officers whom we asked in Chinese about the bus: minibus jinshanling and they looked stunned, as if they were calculating the first 10 numbers of the square root of 2.

Julia was ill but still decided to continue with the walk, but as was expected the walk ended up being too difficult for her physical state and we had to go back.  That was the beginning of the big soap opera.  To begin with, we didn't go back very fast because Romina and Yael were very happy taking photos.  When we arrived in Jingshanling it was already night and there was nowhere to stay apart from a hotel that cost 400 yuan (40 euros) or there was a taxi to Beijing for 550 yuan.  We decided to stay but they didn't let the girls because they didn't have their passports, so we had to phone a hostel in Beijing and get them to send a photocopy by fax.  That took several hours and the three girls changed their minds every two minutes - we're staying, we're going, staying, going, staying.  I finally persuaded them that logistically and financially it would be better if they went back to Beijing.  When they finally decided to leave the copies of the passports arrived and they started again with the - we're staying, leaving, staying, leaving, staying, ahhh!!!!  They ended up going to Beijing and that's as far as the story goes because I stayed.  I wasn't that desperate to pay for a hotel so I walked towards the mountain looking for a place where they rented out sleeping bags.  I rented a sleeping bag and a couple of insulators that were not very cheap but four times cheaper than the hotel, and went towards the wall.

Gasping from tiredness, emotion and anxiety I arrived at a tower and realised I had taken the wrong left and I was on a more difficult and less well preserved route.  I arrived at a tower that only had half a roof and the floor was covered with rock dust.  I decided to stay there and have a very bizarre experience.  A place without doors or windows with only the sound of the wind rushing through the ruins.  I asked myself how many people had spent nights on watch, watchning for Mongolian invaders that tried to pass to the Southern empires.  I was there a while, taking delight in the nocturnal shapes of the Great Wall that snaked along the mountains like  a chameleon's spine.  I slept full of joy, at being able to have this great experience.  Ironically the Argentinian girls, who had had the idea in the first place, couldn't join.  A really strange noise woke me up and I saw the sunrise of a red sun that timidly came out through the mountains to then become hidden again behind a constant cloud cover that accompanied my two days on the wall.  After returning the sleeping bag, walking the 10km to Simatai and then half negotiating the return to Beijing I met up with the Argentinian girls again who couldn't believe I had stolen their idea.  Julia asked me what I had done the day before.  She told me that those who had died constructing the wall were buried there.  Good that I didn't have that thought the night before or it would have been a very long night.

The following days were taken up by meeting up with Silvia (from the Mongolia trip) and Thomas (whom I'd met in Baikal), speaking to them and exploring the city with no fixed aim.  Once we saw some streets where everything was in Russian which was really nice for us three as we'd done the Transsiberian, and we almost made Silvia buy a pair of those enormous Russian-style heeled shoes.  Those two went their separate ways and I stayed for another few days in Beijing because I liked a lot about the city.  The remaining days I visited various very interesting places, among those factory 798 which was a factory with electronic items but is now one of those complexes of modern art galleries.  I spent 5 hours there and it was not enough.  It's huge and there was a lot to see.  One of my favourite pieces was an enormous sculpture of a bull that was goring a person against the wall.  Those days I also had good times with Pierre, French, and Boris, German.  Pierre was on the road for a year and hadn't shaved the whole time so looked like a photo of Jesus Christ or Taliban or Dumbledore.  He also used a type of white shirt that he hadn't washed in literally 5 weeks and you could already see splashes of all that he'd eaten.  Boris was more pragmatic and serious but also interesting.  He had gone through several countries by bike and had really interesting projects going on with his gang of cyclists in Hamburg.

I spent my last day in Beijing queueing for an hour and a half, pushing and shoving and watching a large number of Chinese people jump the queue because they wanted to see Mao for ten seconds.  I also had Pekinese duck again in a place that was not as luxurious or tasty, and finally I took a night train to a city called Datong.
In Datong it was horribly cold and after a while I arranged to see the tourist attractions, the Yungang caves and the hanging monastery.  The caves are spectacular, apparently the best preserved in the whole of China, and the monastery brought me memories of Tanya's photos (she suggested I go there).  But after that the city is a disgusting place where I had to spend two days against my will.  It wasn't that bad in the end because I met Alrick, a French guy who spoke Spanish and like a good French guy he knew how to complain about everything.  He really reminded me of the husband of a friend of mine as they were physically similar, very funny and protested in teh same way.  We talked quite a lot and the next day we spend a long time looking for a decent toilet for him as he refused to use one without a proper seat.  We looked in private offices and they were even trying to sell us an apartment in Datong. We refused such tempting offer and his arse has saved in a luxurious hotel where the blue eyed blond guy was treated with high respect。  Alrick left at 4 and I still had 7 hours in that abominable town.  I killed time by getting my hair cut, seeing a street market, and on the net.  I took the train to Pingyao which is where I am now.
 
Some notes of interest:
  • Pekinese dog comes from a type that lived only in the forbidden city for a long time and that's where the name comes from.
  • It's a myth that the Great Wall is the only structure from ancient man that can be seen from space - you can't see it!
  • Peking or Beijing?  The Chinese created pinyin which is the phonetic representation of Mandarin in Roman characters.  Some names of cities changed when they were transliterated, so Peking is Beijing in pinyin. 

Thanks for reading  this long entry.
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celestial back spine

Mongolia is the most sparcely populated country per square kilometre in the world.  That description is not enough to understand how far apart Mongolians are in their country or how they keep their way of life, as many of tham still live as their ancestors lived 1000 years ago, as nomads or semi nomads, raising animals and enduring the brutal winters that lash against these lands.  At the beginning Mongolia did not look very promising as UB is like a cloud that overshadows the earth of constant blue skies, but once you leave this chaotic metropolis of Soviet buildings and gers spread about beyond its borders, you find the read attraction of Mongolia: the rich and varied landscapes and wildlife.
I loved Mongolia: immense and beautiful, different from anywhere else I have seen in my life, and Mongolians are different as well: influenced by the Russians and Chinese, for sure, but they still keep their kind and humorous character.

THE BEST
To see the milky way so clearly, and that circular phenomenon.  It was fascinating to be able to appreciate so clearly the stars in the silence of the Gobi 
 
THE GOOD
The surprises that Mongolia reveals after each hilltop.  It is difficult to get bored of appreciating the huge landscapes.  The sand dunes of the Gobi.  Despite the fact that they don't extend very far, it's one of my favourite landscapes.  My travel group, as we got on quite well and it was a shame when we had to take different paths.
 
THE BAD
Mongolians genetically can't take alcohol and when they are drunk they can become unpleasant.  Ulan Batar, which is a city that is very difficult to love and it has high levels of crime.  I think I eventually made my peace with UB.
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Ger ing

A ger is a cylindrical skeleton made of wood, covered by a sheep and camel wool cover, with a folding roof through which there's a metal tube that serves as a chimney.  The entrance to a ger is always towards the south,  weapons are left outside.  Inside the ger you walk in the direction of the hands on a clock and you sleep with your feet pointing towards the door.  The ger is what Mongolians have used for hundreds of years to make a home from inhospitable places that reach 40 degrees in summer and -40 in winter.
This is what I expected for the following two weeks in Mongolia: gers scattered across large distances in huge landscapes where a type of inexorable emptiness dominates.  Only 20 minutes after leaving UB you see solitary gers of nomad families with flocks of sheep, goats, horses, cows, yaks or camels depending on the region.

Our driver was called Jack and he was nice.  He knew exactly where to stop to collect stones that had interesting colours and shapes.  He managed to spot galoping deer and we followed them in the van.  He showed us wild animals on the horizon and made us laugh with his comments and good sense of humour.  One thing that I could not understand was how he drove 2000km in a place where there are no roads or signs.  How he knew at which 'obol' (pile of rocks decorated with offerings, they beeped to have good luck on the road) to beep, where to turn right and what to avoid.  My conclusion is that he was guided by the sun and the mountains, but all those mountainous forms really looked almost identical on the horizon.  I really respect Mongolian drivers.
 
The beginning of the journey was towards the south, bringing us deeper into the Gobi desert, which is not the sand desert you expect but a succession of landscapes that vary considerably after each hill.  Mongolia's beauty definitely lies in its landscapes and not in its cities, as all of the ones we saw were horrible places where nothing happens and you just can't wait to escape.

Mongolia is not famous either for its exquisite cuisine.  Basically its food consists of lamb with rice or pasta or potatoes.  There are also other half interesting things, like camel yoghurt, which I liked, but my fellow travellers didn't.  There's also camel cheese that just I didn't like.  There's also a drink called airag which is based on mare milk and tastes sour.  In theory it's alcoholic but to me it seemed more repulsive than intoxicating.

We cooked our own lunch, something that became more interesting with the strong winds that swept across the desert.  One day we had to cook inside the van :D  The nights were quite cold and some nights we warmed up with vodka; other nights with firewood.  The mornings were even colder and my body had (and still has) this annoying habit of waking up at 4.30am, so I had to stay in bed with my thoughts and other people's snores until someone else in my group woke up.

The first night there was a new moon and I saw the milky way as I'd never seen it before: clear, beautiful, full of stars and lightly staining the night sky.  It was spectacular.  I was the only one who went out into the cold before going to sleep to admire the beauty of the stars, always recognising the Plough and trying to create shapes with the millions of stars.

Another night, while we talked in our ger, Jack told us we should go out.  When we looked at the sky we saw a phenomenon we had never seen or heard of!  It was a type of circle in the zenith of the firmament, and it was becoming wider slowly and regularly.  Its edges were the colour of stars and in the middle, while it grew it took on the colour of a clearer darkness.  It grew and grew so much that it almost disappeared on all horizons.  Mongolians say that when this happens it means there will be a cold winter.  One thing that made this phenomenon so interesting is that no one had heard of it.  It took us by surprise and left us speechless.  Can anyone tell me what it was that I saw?

My travel group was 1A.  There was Joe, the English guy for whom leaving the civilised world was proving difficult; Silvia, the Austrian teacher that added something interesting to the group with her numerous travel experiences (and her Austrian style), and there were Johan and Demian, the Welsh couple who are slow travellers and took everything with such freshness and joy that the added a nice touch to the group.  They had been travelling for 8 months: 2 in Vietnam, 2 in Laos and 4 in China, so they entertained us with their many comical and tragic stories about their travels.  We also used them as a source of advice as we were all going towards China and they also had alot to tell about being there.  Demian loves beer and is always in a good mood.  We also enjoyed hearing them speak Welsh (a language that is dying) and a card game that they knew. 

As Demian and Johan had been on the road for 8 months, their stomachs were already trained for food with dubious origins.  The rest of us were still in training.  Silvia and Joe were the first to be affected on day 7 of the journey.  That was close to a very interesting canyon in a really strange place.

The tour was really good.  We saw different types of very varied landscapes, among those one of my favourite: sand dunes.  For me, sand dunes are magical places and there is nothing quite like them on this earth.  Mountains are spectacular, beaches are beautiful, forests are charming, rock formations are hair-raising, but sand dunes are just magical!! You can hear the sound of the wind playing with the sand, incessantly changing the landscape, creating figures and shapes from another world.  You find strange animal tracks and the mind soars uncontrollably.. oh, how I love sand dunes.  I think that the other people in my group thought I was pretty strange because I spent a long time in the dunes in a trance-like state.

I should be ashamed that I spend 19 days in Mongolia and only learned to say 6 words.  Mongolian is a language with difficult guttural sounds.  After leaving behind the harmony and beauty of the Russian language, hearing Mongolian is like listening to a dog fight.  The words I learned are the following: hi, goodbye, thanks, let's go, beer and khushur.  Khushur is a type of pasty filled with lamb meat (for a change) which is very fatty.  We ate this dish in Kharkhorin, the ancient capital that Genghis Khan established as the centre of the largest empire the world had ever seen.  The Khushur tasted really good but my stomach made sure it reminded me twice that night how fragile it is and it punished my greed at eating those fried things three times.

As we got closer to UB it became colder and I wanted to go back to civilisation; it's a somewhat strange feeling to know that you're so close but you still have so many hours on the road and intense heat in the van, but then you go out and freeze in 10 seconds from the savage wind.  Back in UB we were happy to not have to spend more hours in the van, to be able to take a shower and eat different types of food.  That night we ate at a Mexican restaurant and laughed at the many adventures we'd shared together.  Joe left the following morning for Beijing and the rest of us would take the same train three days later.

The last two days in UB I washed my clothes, spent a while on the internet and saw some attractions I hadn't seen at the beginning because I'd been going around looking for a tour.  On Saturday the 3rd of October we were taken to the station and we took the last leg of the transsiberian which took us to the Chinese capital.  That's how my last 3 weeks in the land of Genghis Khan were spent.  It is a unique part of the world thanks to its history and its great and fascinating landscapse.

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UB

Ulaan Bataar, Ulan Bator, Ulaan Baatar, Ulan Batar, Ulanbatar or as travellers call it, UB, it's the capital of Mongolia and contains half of its population.  It seems that no one has agreed on how to spell the name of this city in the Latin Alphabet.  It means Red Hero in Mongol.  Mongol is written in the cyrillic alphabet, thanks to the fact that the SONETICOS offered to help Mongolia out when the country decided to become communist.  Tehre is a great legacy from that era, for example you can see evidence of the infamous Soviet urban planning system and many Mongolians were educated in communist states.

In the supermarkets you can find many Russian and (east) German products and a large number of cultural and environmental projects with East German collaboration.  Now the United States collaborates a lot, to show the Russians and the chinese that even though Mongolia is sandwiched between these two titans, it's not alone in the world.

The train between Russia and Mongolia was pretty much a tourist train as tehre were very few Russians or Mongolians.  All of the passengers had booked some hostel and absolutely all of them apart from myself were picked up at 6am from the station.  I had other plans, but the cold morning, tiredness, the sudden solitude and the bad reputation of the city made me have second thoughts.  I arrangeed it so that I would arrive at Begz' work, another CS member with whom I was going to stay 2 nights.  The decision of being hosted by Begz and his family was being clouded over by the desire to be able to take my bag off, the fact that hostels in UB cost 6 dollars per nights and the fact that Begz had a rule in his house that guests should pay 7000 tughriks as he had 6 mouths to feed in his house.

This rule goes against the principle of CS, that it should be a cultural exchange and free accommodation.  When you mix money in the equation the principle is damaged and you might start having expectations from the price paid.  In spite of this, I decided to see what would happen.  I met Begz and two Americans that had stayed with him.  Begz told me that I should come back at 6pm so that his kids could take me to the house.  I spend the day with the Americans, speaking about their stay in Begz' house which seemed promising, according to the American enthusiasm.  One of these two guys was obsessed with the 'red button' - if the Chinese decide to invade Russia, the Russians will use the red button, if the Russians annoy the Americans, the red button to the rescue, and Iran can show its power using the red button.

In the afternoon I went back to Begz' work and met two of his children, ? , who took me to their ger in the suburbs of the city by a disgustingly full and unpleasant bus.  After an hour of being pushed and shoved around, we arrived at his modest residence and I met the motherand the other two daughters (whose names I forgot after 10 seconds).

This family is really traditional.  They live with few comforts; they have 2 cows, a dog, and there is no drinking water at home.  The woman got up, did her Buddhist prayers and spent the rest of the day like a little ant, working without respite until it was time to go to bed.  They cooked with cow manure and also used it to heat up the ger.  We played typical games with sheep bones which were used for everything - darts, cards..


I couldn't beat Todo in many of the games that we played and I found Manuji really sweet.  Then Begz showed me his guest book where each traveller described what a great time they had.  He also showed me how his name appears in the book 'On the Couch', written by an English girl who went around the world only doing CS and ten writing a book about it.  Begz, shirtless, told me about Mongolia, its projects and customs, for example you have to lick the plate as soon as you finish eating.  I didn't believe it until I saw him and the boys cleaning the dishes, using their tongues at the same time.  They all sleep together on the floor as soon as dinner is finished, and I didn't ask how they make children in that mess of arms and legs.

For breakfast they gave me tea, home-made jam, bread that was a bit crusty due to the egg shell that Begz' wife added to it, and butter that they had made the night before and which tasted just as good as the butter my grandfather used to make.

It was a unique place and experience and I don't regret having gone there.  The only bad thing was that the house was far from the centre and it was very difficult to get there alone so I couldn't spend much time in the city, and this can be a nightmare when you try to organise a tour through Mongolia.  After the second night I decided to go to a hostel in the centre of the city and many things started to improve - I managed to find a tour to the Gobi desert at a good price and the other people in the group, John and Demian from Wales, Joe from England and Silvia from Austria seemed like a good combination for a two week trip.

As far as CS is concerned, it's a great idea and I really like taking part in it, but it takes up quite a lot of time and effort and you need to be really flexible.  Now that I'm going into more varied countries, it becomes more difficult to find hosts, so I'll stop this type of travel for the time being.

 Gobi, here we come!

pd.  this post was ready ages ago but the chinese internet blockade is too strong and I just managed to bypass it :D

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