Trying to fit all of my China experience into a single blog post shorter than an encyclopedia is like trying to squeeze China’s population onto the island of Mauritius. But what the heck - let’s give it a try. I’ll break it up into cities, not that this will help much considering the majority of everything happened in one city. But here we go.
HONG KONG
(Warning: Parents may not want to read this one. Talks about my bungy jumping and it’ll probably freak you out.)
Oddly enough, the majority of my time in Hong Kong was not actually spent in Hong Kong. The morning we arrived I caught wind that a group was going bungy jumping, and not just bungy jumping but bungy jumping off the highest commercial bungy jump in the world. I thought I had already missed this chance in South Africa, but apparently I had been mistaken. The South Africa bungy jump was the highest BRIDGE jump. This was the highest jump. Period.
Sign me up.
So I join the group and we head over. We took an hour long boat ride in something called the “Turbo Jet,” which was pretty cool. It’s basically a plane on water, complete with cooshy seats with seatbelts and barf bags. As we approached Macao where the jump was, we could see the building towering over the skyline. Everyone else started talking about how scared they were and lots of people started pounding alcohol to calm the nerves. (How is that a good idea?) I couldn’t relate to the nerves or fear – I just felt excitement.
I kept waiting for the nerves to hit. They didn’t hit when we pulled up to the tower. They didn’t hit when we went up the 61 stories in the elevator. They didn’t hit when I stood at the window looking at the micro-machine world below. They didn’t hit as I signed the waver or got harnessed up. Sitting on the table getting my ankles bound, I was still waiting for them to hit. And as I stood on the edge, all strapped in, hands out, head up, I was still waiting.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1!
They never came.
I leaned forward,
and I flew.
I can’t explain the sensation of the jump. There I was, flying head first towards the ground with a large rubber band tied to my feet, and I felt completely at peace. I was surprised by how long it took. I thought it would be one of those split second, blink and you miss it experiences. But no. I had the chance to think, “Wow. This is really cool. Wow, I’m still going. Wow, I’m going to do superman arms. Oh my gosh, I’m flying. Wow.” I wonder how long it takes to fall 233 meters. . .
So after my jump, I jumped back on the Turbo Jet and headed home to Hong Kong. I was supposed to meet up with some friends at 5:00 to watch the sunset from Victoria Peak and it was almost 7:00. We had known that there was a large chance that I wouldn’t be able to make it and they had known to go without me if I couldn’t make it. But I hoped to catch them at the trolley on the way down from the peak.
So here I was, navigating the streets of Hong Kong, a city that makes New York look like a tiny country town out in Tennessee. Very few people speak English. And I’m by myself.
So somehow I manage to catch a taxi that brings me to the base of the trolley. I wait at the bottom of the trolley for a little bit, hoping that they’ll come down. When they don’t, I decide that I must have already missed them and I’ll just have a night on my own. It would be like my nights in New York. . . except in Hong Kong.
So I have just decided to enjoy the night on my own and head up to the peak when I hear “Lila!” from behind me. I turn around and see three girls from SAS. I end up joining their group, and we have a lovely evening. Sorry, but I’m going to slightly rush through it for the sake of time (yours and mine). Basically, though, the night consisted of a lovely dinner on top of Victoria Peak and then a night market. I’m pretty much all shopped out, though, so I was just a browser.
So that is basically my Hong Kong experience.
There are a couple things I want to throw in about Hong Kong as a city before I move on. Everything is huge – the buildings, the busses (all double-decker), everything! Also, there are a surprisingly large number of Australians. And finally, you can’t just hail a taxi from anywhere. You need to find a place where they all line up; then you get in line and wait. And these places are impossible to find and I swear only the locals know them and they have a secret pact not to tell anyone else. Okay, that’s not true. They’re not that hard to find. But it definitely makes you appreciate the luxury of being able to stick your hand in the air and have a ride immediately arrive at you feet.
Moving on.
BEIJING
We left bright and early the next morning for Beijing. Actually, that’s not true. We left early – the sun was not yet up.
The usual routine: bus, airport, customs, plane, hour delay, fly, yummy non-American plane food, land, customs, bus.
But what’s really cool (haha, literally) is when we land in Beijing IT’S SNOWING! And not only that, but it had already snowed, so everything was white and beautiful.
So we load up in a bus and drive (past the Olympic Birds Nest and ice Cube!!!!!) to the Summer Palace. Let me tell you, there’s a reason the emperor only went there in the summer. It war f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g! Below freezing, actually. So cold that Anna and I were forced to buy silly tourist Panda hats. I named mine Boobie and her’s is Lucy.
This is where my group of four that I hung out with for the remainder of the trip was formed: Anna and I were already close friends, Laurel and I were breakfast buddies, and Eric and I had been wanting to hang out more. Perfect!
So the four of us explore the Summer Palace in the freezing snow. Honestly, I don’t know how we got out of there without frostbite. It was SO COLD. But we made it fun (obviously). For some reason, we were all in a show tunes mood, so we went around singing and laughing. We went on a wild goose chase (which ended up being successful) to buy some hot corn on the cob that we saw people eating. And later we bought roasted sweet potato. Delicious!
Below freezing weather aside, the Summer Palace really was a winter wonderland. Some of the prettiest snow scenes I’ve seen.
From there we went to the hotel and then out to dinner. Dinner was. . . crazy. There was SO MUCH FOOD! (That seems to be a theme on this trip). Okay, so gather up any idea you’ve ever had of Chinese food. Anything you’ve ever seen or ordered in the states. . . and chuck those out the window.
This was all different.
I can’t even describe it, mostly because I don’t know what a lot of it was. But it was . . . weird.
Then we went to Peeking University to meet up with the students who were hosting us. Eric, Anna, and I ended up sitting by Martin. Martin was such a sweetheart. There was one time when he mixed up the words cucumber and concubine. He said his favorite food was chicken with concubines. We tried to keep in the laughter, but there’s only so much you can ask of us. Luckily, he has an awesome sense of humor. We were really lucky for ending up with him.
Anyways, after our little student gathering he took us out onto the Peeking University campus. We said we were hoping to buy some more clothes (long underwear and such) and he said he would take us to the supermarket. We were a little skeptical, since in America supermarket equals food, but we went along with it.
They’re supermarkets are more than food. So we bought long underwear (two pairs) and gloves to keep us warm. Luckily my grandpa had me buy a warm jacket before I left (thanks Poppy!!), but we looked for a jacket for Anna and other things to keep us warm. With our mission accomplished, we continued on with our night by going to Martin’s favorite place to eat.
We bought a lot of food. There were so many different things, that we just wanted to try it all. Again, I have no idea what they were. I know that one was a skewered squid. Basically, we bought about 10 different things on sticks and a bag full of soup. Yes, a bag of soup. We at the sticks on the way home, and we at the soup with chopsticks sitting in the middle of our hotel room.
When I woke up the next morning I realized that the little bit of sickness that I had felt the day prior was now growing into a lot-a-bit of sickness. But who has time to be sick when you’re in China?
I ended up sleeping a LOT that day. As soon as I sat on the bus I was dead asleep. Thank goodness for Anna, my bus buddy, who woke me up when we got somewhere and told me what was going on.
That morning, we went to see how some Chinese art is made. I forget what it’s called . . . something with a “C.” I would look it up, but I don’t really think it’s worth it. Beautiful art, super labor intensive, but not my style.
Moving on.
From there we went to the Ming Tombs. By this time I’m pretty sick, and when I get sick and tired I get kind of out of it. So here I am, wandering around the Ming Tombs talking about how I want to see a white tiger. Needless to say, we didn’t. The tombs didn’t really leave an impression. The forest we had to walk through to get to them, though, is what I picture the scene to look like in Robert Frost’s “The Road Less Traveled.” So that was cool.
Moving on.
To. . .
The Great Wall!!!!!
So by the time we get to the Great Wall, I am really sick. I had a piece of watermelon for breakfast and skipped lunch because my stomach was threatening revolution. Now I don’t know what you’re picturing the Great Wall to be like, but any idea you have of it you can probably chuck out with the American Chinese food.
So we’re sitting in the bus and Anna asks me how I feel. “I feel really, really sick,” I say. Followed by, “let’s go.”
We weren’t just going to see the Great Wall. Oh no. We were going to climb it. And when I say climb, I mean climb. Not leisurely stroll, not hike: CLIMB.
There was a sign near the entrance that said you should not climb if you had “heart or brain disease.” I think this is kind of a catch 22, because nobody in their right mind would attempt what they did. Brain Disease: Can’t climb the Great Wall with it, can’t climb the Great Wall without it.
The leg we were at was a semi-circle, stretching high up a mountain and then coming back up. HIGH up a mountain. And steeply. And covered in snow and ice.
So we begin our ascent.
This is one of the things that I love about countries that aren’t America. Because there are fewer frivolous lawsuits, people really don’t care if you put yourself in situations where there is a large possibility that you could get hurt. There is no freakin’ way that someone would be allowed to make that climb in America in weather conditions like that. They either would have shoveled the stairs or closed it. But, luckily for us, we weren’t in America. We were in China. So we started our way up.
I’m excited to show you the pictures, because I really can’t describe accurately what this looked like. Coming up to the next flight of stairs was like coming up to a brick wall that had been slightly jostled by an earthquake so it leaned at a diagonal with some available food holds. Foot holds covered in ice. Okay, maybe not quite that steep, but pretty close.
So we go up. Slowly. Climbing. Me stopping occasionally to catch my breath or to give my vengeful stomach a chance to calm down. And then we are in the midst of an international snowball fight.
There are forts every so often, and Sean and Iker have taken hold of one and they are hurling snowballs at a group of Chinese kids who are returning the favor. Suddenly some French tourists join in. Iker was shouting and calling everyone Mongols one second and then fighting against the French for Basque freedom the next.
I don’t know exactly who was on whose side, but I know at one point it was Iker (the Basque Country) and Sean (South Africa) vs. us (Americans), some French tourists, and some Chinese students. My friend said, “Wow. When in history have the French, Chinese, and Americans ever been on the same side in a war” and it cracked me up.
So the snowball fight was amazing. And a nice break from our climb.
Eventually, I have no idea how, but eventually we made it to the top. But then we had to start back down.
It was SO STEEP! Oh my gosh. There were sections that you couldn’t see the bottom step unless you were on the top step. A foot back and wouldn’t be able to see it. And it was so slippery! But SO MUCH FUN!
So we eventually make it to the bottom, and I buy a t-shirt to prove I climbed the wall. Then back on the bus.
And back to sleep.
I wake up at dinner where I have a little rice. Then bus and sleep. When I wake up again when we’re at the University for out get together with the students.
By this point I feel like I can barely stand up, much less socialize and be active. BUT, here’s the kicker, because of the tv show “So You Think You Can Dance” all the Chinese students hold the stereotype that Americans are fabulous dancers. So they request that we teach them to dance.
We knew this request ahead of time, and Olivia and I had planned to perform and teach Thriller (we both knew it from Halloween). The leaders ask if I’m up to it – by this point everyone knows that I’m sick. I feel like I just want to curl up in a hole somewhere and sleep, but I can’t let Olivia perform Thriller by herself. That’s just silly. And I can’t let down to University students.
So I perform Thriller. Luckily Olivia took the lead with teaching it, but I was there to demonstrate as she instructed. The we played some games. I didn’t want to be a party-poop, so I participated to the best of my ability. The games that I wanted to get out on I wasn’t able to get out on, which was frustrating. In games where you have to form groups of certain numbers of people and the odd man out loses I would try and be the odd man out, but I kept getting pulled into groups. But it all worked out.
Eventually the night was over. Everyone else was going out to (their second) dinner or to the bars, but I was exhausted, so I went home. After making a video of how many layers I was wearing (it’s a pretty hilarious video. You should see it.) I went to sleep.
Then I went to sleep. When I woke up there were some pills on my bedside table. Anna had told me that she had some medicine I could take: Pepto-Bismol and something else. There on my table were two Pepto-Bismol and two of something else. Grateful to Anna for giving them to Laurel to leave for me, I popped my pills and went on with getting ready for my day. Getting ready slowly. Still sick.
When Laurel woke up, I thought I would double check about the pills.
Me: Hey, those pills on the table were for me right?
Laurel: What?
Me: The four pills that were on the corner there. Anna gave them to you, right?
Laurel (with concerned expression): No, Lila.
Me: Oh. Well I took them. What were they?
Laurel: That was Pepto-Bismol and my anti-anxiety medication.
Then I start cracking up. I figured there’s nothing I could do it about it no, so why worry. Plus it wasn’t enough to do any harm.
So on top of the tiredness and haze of being sick and exhausted, I was also drugged up on anti-anxiety medication. Double dosage, too, since she was making up for having forgotten to take it the previous day.
After breakfast (I had a piece of watermelon) I got on the bus and fell asleep. I woke up at Tiananmen Square. You know the picture with the guy standing in front of the tanks? This is where that happened. The weird thing, though, is that there is absolutely no acknowledgement of what happened there. No plaque, monument, or anything else. It’s the things like that that remind you you’re not in America anymore. If the government wants to pretend something never happened, they totally can. Not that you wouldn’t be able to in America, but it would be a lot harder.
Anyways, the Square, like the rest of Beijing, was absolutely freezing so we didn’t spend a lot of time outside. We ended up going into some building . . the People’s Hall? Great People’s Hall? Hall of Great People? I really don’t know. Most of what I remembering from this day is pretty hazy and greatly aided by my photos. Anyways, in whatever hall it was I found a comfy chair and (you guessed it) slept.
Then we went back out into the cold. We were going to wander around a bit more, but I didn’t feel up to it so we wandered back to our meeting spot a bit early. The meeting spot was near the entrance of the Forbidden City where lots of tourists were taking pictures. There was one group of old Asians. Some sort of club. I stood in one of their pictures. . . I hope they’re as amused as I was. =-)
Once the group had gathered, we walked to lunch which was through the gates leading to the Forbidden City. It was a much longer walk then I expected. I fell asleep with my head on the table at the restaurant.
Realizing that I had turned into a narcoleptic, I said that I wanted to go home to the hotel and the trip leaders agreed that it would probably be a good idea. They had been continuously presenting me with that option for days, but I had been refusing because I don’t like missing out on things. But if I couldn’t even stay awake at a restaurant . . .
So the tour guide brought the group to get all checked into the Forbidden City and I waited at the restaurant for her to come back for me and stick me in a cab. Sitting in the cooshy chair at the restaurant, I fought to stay awake, even though sleep was the only escape from the extreme discomfort my insides were putting me though.
Then I decided: you know what? Enough is enough. I’m not going to feel this horrible anymore.
I got up, marched (well, okay, dragged) myself to the bathroom, and squatted by the toilet. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that I vomited more then than I have accumulatively in at least the past seven years.
And then I felt better. Not well, but definitely better.
When I came out, the tour guide was there ready to present me with a dilemma: taxis were hard to get from where we were. It would be an equal distance walking to one whether I walked back through Tiananmen Square of through the Forbidden City. Obviously I opted for the Forbidden City. Me? Pass on the chance to see something forbidden? Never.
So I start walking though the Forbidden City, and I decide maybe I won’t go home after all. Maybe I can hold out for the acrobatics show.
I pray that God will lead me back to my group, and he does. After wandering around for myself, a random person asks if I want to see their art gallery. Except it’s not really a request, more of a demand. So I follow them in, see a beautiful drawing of the Great Wall in the snow, meet the artist, haggle the price down (a lot!!!), buy the drawing, get it signed, walk outside . . . and there are Anna, Eric, and Laurel! Hurray!
Obviously they’re surprised and confused to see me. I would be too, since I was supposed to be on my way back to the hotel. But we’re happy to have the group back together, and we continue walking through the absolutely freezing Forbidden City. That is, until we find a cafe where we can go in and sit in the warmth . . . along with the 20 other SAS kids that had the same idea. Everyone was really sweet and concerned about me. They offered me the seat furthest from the breezy door and asked if there was anything they could do. It was a really wonderful group of kids.
We stayed there until just minutes before we were supposed to be at our meeting point. When everyone finally met up, I was exhausted again and asked to be put in a cab home. The tour guide put me in a cab and told them where to go.
Finally, on my way back to the hotel. I tried to stay awake in the cab, and somehow I managed, but let me tell you: it was a battle.
But then the cab driver’s phone rang and he pulled over. He got out of the car, hailed another cab, and was gesturing for me to get out of his cab and into the one behind him. I’m exhausted and have no idea what’s going on. My world is still hazy. So I get out, try to pay him (he refuses), and climb in the cab behind me.
So here I am in the middle of Beijing (which is 42 times the size of Hong Kong) with no idea where I am or where I’m going. I don’t speak a word of Chinese and my driver doesn’t speak a word of English. My old driver is long gone. My mind is fuzzy.
Then I remember I have my key card from the hotel. I take it out and see it says something Chinese on it. I show it to here in hopes that it’ll mean something, and apparently it does because she looks at it and starts driving. Thank goodness.
After driving for awhile, she looks at me as though looking for instructions of directions. I still have no idea where I am. She doesn’t know where I’m going.
Huh.
Then, in a moment of brilliance, I remember a piece of paper that’s in my backpack. It’s a piece of paper that they gave us at the beginning for if we ever get separated from the group. In Chinese it says, “Please take me to _____________” with a list of all the places (restaurants, museums, palaces, etc.) that we were going to, including the hotel! Complete with building numbers and directions! Hurray!
So, praise the Lord, I arrive safely back at the hotel. Somehow I make it into my room and into the bath to thaw out. . . where I fall asleep.
You know that moment half way between awake and asleep where you’re awake but your eyes are still closed? That was a weird moment for me, including the thought “Why am I all wet??” Then I realized what had happened and that I probably shouldn’t be in the bathtub.
Out of the tub, into bed, and asleep by 5:30.
I slept soundly until when my roommate got home. Good thing she (accidently) woke me up, because I ended up vomiting some more. Then back to sleep.
Like most other people on most other mornings, the first thing I had to do when I woke up the next morning was go to the bathroom. The problem, though, was out our toilet wasn’t working.
But I really had to go to the bathroom.
In a stroke of sleepy, sick, hazy genius, I decide to go to find another bathroom. So I wander around the hall hotel in my pjs with my fly away, bed-head braids in search of a bathroom. None in my hall. Maybe by the elevator.
None by the elevator.
This is going to be a problem.
Since I’m by the elevator, though, I might as well go to Anna’s room. She’ll let me use her bathroom. So I go up 3 stories to Anna’s room and knock on the door. Anna doesn’t answer. It’s not Anna’s room. Luckily for me, it’s another SAS kid, but not one that I’ve ever had a full conversation with.
But I really have to go to the bathroom. So I mumble sleepily, “Hi. You’re not Anna, but I have to go to the bathroom. Can I use you bathroom?” They’re confused but say yes, thank goodness. So I use their bathroom and head back to my room.
At my room, my key card doesn’t work. I try again. No go. Again and again I try, and again and again the light flashes red instead of green. No worries, Laurel will let me in.
I knock. Laurel doesn’t answer. It’s not Laurel’s room. This is not where I live. Luckily for me, it’s Eric that answers – the only other person besides Anna and Laurel that know which room I’m in. So I mumble sleepily, “Hi. I know this sounds weird, but do you know where I live?” He’s confused, but he directs me to my room. Three floors up, but in the same spot. My room was 312 and I was at 112.
So I make my way back to my room to find a worried Laurel waiting for me. When we finally get down to breakfast, everyone has heard about my early morning hall wandering. Wonderful.
Now that I started to wake up I begin to feel much better. I actually ate something besides watermelon for the first time in days (toast) and I can kind of carry on a conversation. After breakfast, we head of to the Temple of Heaven. Let me tell you, Heaven is not all it’s cracked up to be. In fact, the biting cold of heaven made hell seem a bit more appealing. Beautiful? Yes. A place where I’d want to spend eternity? Heck no.
As we were exiting the temple and heading towards the bus, we passed through a type of fair thing. In one area there was an older man singing karaoke into a microphone and a whole bunch of older Chinese people dancing. Not being one to ever miss out on the chance to dance, I joined in. True, I wasn’t invited, but I don’t think they minded. Actually, I’m sure they didn’t, because they all started cheering and wanting to dance with me. Don’t worry, this is on video.
So after dancing with everyone for a little bit, we continued walking. Then near the bus there was another group of people dancing, except they were waltzing. I love waltzing! Some SAS girls were waltzing with each other and asked if I wanted to cut in. “No thanks. I want a guy,” I said, and I walked into the crowd of waltzing Asians, found a nice old Chinese man, and waltzed with him for a bit.
It was really fun.
Then to the airport, on the plane, and into Shanghai.
I realize that my Beijing experience might sound kind of miserable from a reader’s perspective what with the below freezing temperatures and sickness and all, but that wasn’t my impression at all. I actually LOVED it. Beijing isn’t my favorite city, but I would definitely say I had a positive experience there.
I relate it to the story my mom tells me of when we went to Disney Land when I was little. I was sick and would throw up periodically, but I didn’t let that get in the way of enjoying Disney Land. In Beijing I was a sick narcoleptic and would throw up of fall asleep occasionally, but that didn’t make me enjoy the city any less. Just a different experience.
SHANGHAI
First of all, when we arrived back on the boat in Shanghai I had a pile of mail waiting for me. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Everything that had been delivered to Hong Kong (we left before it was distributed) or Shanghai was waiting for me on my pillow when I walked through the door. Thanks so much!!!!!!
Secondly, I LOVE Shanghai. If you’ve talked to me in the past two days (which, duh, you haven’t because we can’t talk) you know I love Shanghai. My far the coolest place I’ve ever been in my life. India was alive, Cambodia was majestic, and Shanghai was straight up cool. Have you ever seen The Jetsons? That’s what Shanghai looks like! I’m not even exaggerating. I had no idea somewhere like this actually existed. Every building looks like . . . something out of the Jetsons! I don’t know any other way to describe it. Like they could blast off for another galaxy at any moment. Like there should be flying cars whipping in between the skyscrapers. Like the people exiting the doors shouldn’t be people at all but little green martians. It’s SO COOL.
And besides the buildings, there are so many colors. Here’s what I absolutely love, maybe as much as the buildings: no black umbrellas. Pink! Orange! Floral! Blue! Green! All the umbrellas are colored and happy. Same with the ponchos all the motorbike riders wear. No black! Nothing boring or conservative. Also, there are no gender lines between who can carry or wear what color. A man can have a pink, floral umbrella and nobody thinks anything of it. I love that!!
So the next morning Anna and I decide to go out to explore Shanghai. We have no plans and no idea what to expect. It turned out to be an excursion of almost’s for us. Stopping at the hospitality desk on the way out to learn about what we should do. The man there plans out a nice day for us: go to the town square where the museum and urban planning center is, walk down a street with shops, go to The Bund, go through the tourist tunnel, eat in a certain area, etc. So we have the worker write down stuff in Chinese for the taxi driver (nobody in Shanghai speaks English), and then we head out into the pouring rain. We hail a cab, show them the piece of paper, and eventually we are dropped at the town square. We circle the whole museum before finding the entrance led up to by a long line. We stand in line for awhile before an old man brings a museum worker over and points at us. She asks, “Where is your tour group?” “Uhh . . . we don’t have one,” we say. “You’re in the wrong line.”
Here are Anna and I, two white girls in a line of maybe 100 Asians. It’s not surprising that someone noticed we didn’t belong, but did that guy really have to go and tattle on us? Anyways, after finding the real line we decide that it’s too long and we don’t want to wait, so we decide to go to the urban planning center. Apparently they have a mini replica of the city, which would be cool.
But here’s the problem: the urban planning center is on the other side of the street. In any other city this wouldn’t be a problem, but in Shanghai it’s a whole ordeal. Here they don’t have crosswalks, they have pedestrian under and overpasses. The underpasses are impossible to find because you can’t just see them from far away because they’re (duh) underground. And it’s not like we can read the signs labeling where they are because they’re all in Chinese.
So we wander around looking for an underpass and instead stumble into an underground mall. In the mall is the most amazing photobooth-thing you have ever done, seen, or heard of. We decided we had to do it. We initially thought it would be just like a normal photo booth: go in, take 4 pictures, it prints them out, leave. Nope. Go in, pay, be ushered into a green room, Chinese writing on screen, pick backgrounds in very limited time, take a million pictures, pick 6 to keep in a very limited time, use a computer pen to “bedazzle them with Asian” (our words, not theirs. “Asian” is now a noun), pick 4 to keep in a very limited time, print. . . and repeat. The repeat was not a necessary step, but we couldn’t resist.
We wander through the mall and pop up on the other side of the street. Hurray! Then we find the urban planning center . . . it’s closed on Mondays.
We hail a cab and show them the paper that asks him to take us to the Bund. It supposedly has a really nice view of the skyline. We get to the Bund and it’s under construction. So we wander around looking for food. There is no food anywhere. Eventually we wander into an exchange place where Anna can’t exchange money because she doesn’t have her passport on her, but I strike up a conversation with some travelers from Australia. They tell us where we can get food. The food they direct us too is supposedly the best spicy food ever (or something), but I’m not up for spicy food since I haven’t eaten more than toast, watermelon, and plain rice for the past couple days. But we wander in that direction anyways, hoping to come across some other type of food, and we do eventually.
The restaurant menu is only in Chinese and nobody speaks English. There are very few pictures. We’re at a loss for what to do when – ta-da! – the person at the front whips out an English menu. Yay! So we’re able to order, eat, and move on with our day.
Our plan is to find the tourist tunnel. It’s supposedly a tunnel/tourist attraction that . . . well, we don’t really know what it does or is. So we start walking towards where we think it might be. Then we wonder if we really want to go across the river especially when it’s foggy so there’s no point in going up the tall towers and it will only make our taxi ride home more expensive. Luckily we were on the same page. Basically we were both wet, tired, and just wanted a jammy day.
So we jump in a taxi, go home, strip down to our long underwear and have a jammy day.
That night we waited like kids waiting for their dad to get home from work for Brittany and Allie to get home from their trips. We jumped on them the second they came in the door to the ship.
That night we went out for dinner, which was good. And the next morning (today) we went out to a convenience store and spend the last of our Chinese money of weird Chinese food, drinks, and chapstick. The lady there tried to convince me that I needed whitening cream. Ha. Ya right.
We boarded the ship around 10:00 this morning, and we pulled out early this afternoon.
Another country down. One more and then back to America.
Love you all. Thanks again for the mail!!!
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