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Travel

The End of the Road

chanman · Mar 27, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Seoul was incredibly good fun, but after five days, it was time to leave South Korea. We flew back to Hong Kong where I stayed just for one more day before boarding a flight back to the UK.

I’m back! So what’s different?

In Little Gidding, T.S. Eliot wrote:

“We shall not cease from exploration,

And the end of all our exploring,

Will be to arrive where we started,

And know the place for the first time.”

It’s an absolutely gorgeous lyric about how travelling provides new lenses through which to view the familiar but I’m not sure that that Eliot was quite right! Being back is undoubtedly weird but contrary to Eliot’s musings, nothing has changed. Fair enough, I was only gone for seven months or so, but I thought that at least some things would feel different. However, the streets of London felt absolutely the same, my relationships with my friends and family were exactly the same, which I suppose, on reflection, was a very good thing.

I naturally shy away from questions such as “What did I learn?” or “Have I changed?” which I think of as indecently corny; however, I’d be pretty unreflective if I hadn’t given them at least some thought along the way. All I can say with certainty is that I’ve probably never been happier than I was when travelling these past seven months. It sounds ridiculous but there were so many times that I would just skip down the street with a loon-like grin on my face. I remember several times walking down Brunswick Street in Fitzroy, Melbourne without a care in the world and just feeling happier than I’d ever been. I remember strolling around Hanoi’s Old Quarter with a full belly and a couple of great coffees in me and feeling euphoric. I remember countless great encounters with some of the most interesting and stimulating people I’ve ever met. Also, time after time over the course of seven months, I saw some of the greatest things in the world; sights and places that I’ve wanted to see for most of my life.

Looking pretty pleased with myself in Macau

If I had to try and boil it down, I think I was happy for four main reasons unique to travelling. Firstly, I’ve never felt as free at any point in my life as I did on whilst on the road. You do exactly what you want to do when you want to. You get up when you want to; you move on when you want to; you spend time with who you want to when you want to; you just do everything as you want to do things; it’s brilliant!

Secondly, I’ve never felt as ‘open’ and receptive as I did on my travels; open-minded to new things; open-minded to new people; open-minded to new experiences; open-minded to new perspectives and this just kept breeding more and more receptivity to the point where everything seemed possible, positively compounded again by the fact that I was on the trip of a lifetime. It makes you reassess everything that you think is at the core of your personality and, surprisingly, that’s a good thing. It’s a virtuous circle: the more open and receptive you are, the more stimulated you become, and the more stimulated you become, the more open and receptive you become and so on. There were times when I was literally bursting with ideas and new thoughts. Openness is definitely something that I want to hang on to wherever I am.

Thirdly, there were the fantastic people that I met throughout my trip. I list the most important and most memorable encounters to me below, but aside from those listed, I consistently met fantastic people along the way, whether local or traveller. The friendliness of the locals towards me, a random traveller, was incredibly uplifting and just made the rest of the world that much ‘closer’ to home. The friendliness of fellow travellers impressed upon me the existence of the ‘Traveller Code’, an unwritten but broadly understood rule whereby travellers look out for each other and help one another when needed. I found myself on both sides of the code at different times of my trip and it was great to be a part of such a global, civilised and unofficial network.

Fourthly, you can’t not be happy when you’ve had the great fortune to have seen some of the greatest sights in the world on a consistently frequent basis, week after week; from Machu Picchu to the Bolivian Salt Flats to the Cordillera Real to Rio de Janeiro to the Iguazu Falls to Buenos Aires to the Andes to Sydney to the Great Barrier Reef to Uluru and the Kata Tjutas to Melbourne to Hong Kong to Angkor Wat to Halong Bay to Beijing to the Great Wall of China to Shanghai to Seoul – I mean – wow!

The majestic Uluru in Australia’s Red Centre
The incredible Iguazu Falls in Argentina

What was my favourite place? It’s a tough question to answer because I really enjoyed almost everywhere I visited. But, if pressed, I would say that in terms of places, I loved Machu Picchu, the Bolivian Salt Flats, the Great Wall and Angkor Wat the most; all simply mind-blowing and magical sights. I was probably most affected, though, by the Salt Flats; stark, viscerally beautiful and totally otherworldly; the kind of place and experience that your soul remembers forever.

With Grant in Peru
Me on the Great Wall of China
Like nowhere else on Earth – the Bolivian Salt Flats

In terms of cities, I absolutely loved La Paz, Melbourne, Hanoi and Beijing. Each has an incredibly invigorating energy about them that makes living in them, even for a short time, such a heady and enlivening experience, and, with the probable exception of La Paz (which makes the list for its sheer craziness), all have an intensely creative atmosphere about them that is more tangible and palpable than anywhere I’ve yet seen in my life – the kind of environment that I’d like to live in and that, without question, all aspiring world cities should seek to emulate.

South Korea – Extreme Sport Sushi

chanman · Mar 27, 2009 · Leave a Comment

THE first man who, having enclosed a piece of ground, bethought himself of saying “This is mine”, and found people simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not anyone have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows, “Beware of listening to this impostor; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody.” 

Rousseau, Discourse on the Origin of Inequality

FROM SHANGHAI, I took a train back to Hong Kong to prepare for my final trip; this time to South Korea. That train journey is one I’ll never forget. It was an overnight service. I was on one of the top bunks again in a compartment of six. Opposite was a mad-looking woman with few teeth. Unfortunately, we couldn’t understand each other. Anyway, the lights went out for the night. I had my trusty earplugs in and I was drifting off. In the residual light, I could see something moving in the luggage storage area by my feet. I took out my earplugs and heard some rustling. I switched on my headlamp and saw what looked to be giant spiders or tarantulas crawling all over the bunks. I’m not ashamed to admit that I screamed like a girl. Everyone turned their lights on to see what all the fuss was about: there were hairy crabs crawling around! They’d escaped out of this crazy woman’s luggage! What the fuck was she doing? You can buy almost anything in Hong Kong; there’s no need to import the things in your holdall!

Seoul

For the final trip of my travels, I went to South Korea with my Aunt Deborah, my cousin Jerry and his girlfriend, Jasmine. We flew into Incheon International airport, about 70km outside of the capital, Seoul. Geographically, South Korea is on the southern end of the Korean Peninsula sharing a land border with its one-party, totalitarian brother-state, North Korea. To its west over the sea lies China and to its east is Japan. Demographically, South Korea is a homogenous place, with a population of around 50m, of which around just 2% are non-Korean.

We stayed in a hanok, a superb traditional Korean house, in central Seoul. The owners of the hanok were lovely people; one was a septuagenarian Korean woman who was incredibly strong and lively for her age and keen to impart Korean culture and traditions. Typically, hanoks are single-story buildings with an internal courtyard out to which all the rooms in the house face. The doors are super-cool sliding panels and inside are immaculately maintained polished wooden or linoleum covered floors. The bare, polished floors are, it seems, an important aspect of life here. People sit and sleep on the floor. Everyone wears just socks inside and these have the added benefit of helping to keep the floors meticulously clean. At night, you sleep directly on the hard floors with just a thick blanket to lie on. Despite there being no mattress, this is surprisingly comfortable and there I had the best night’s sleep that I’d had in a long while; I’m not sure why exactly; perhaps it’s because the hardness of the floor discourages excessive movement during the night. Whatever the reason, it’s a habit I might bring back to the UK.

In our hanok, (l-r) Jerry, Jasmine, me, Auntie Deborah and our host

Seoul is a pretty busy place, but I think I was expecting a faster city. Hong Kong and Shanghai are far busier than Seoul; here tradition is intertwined with modern skyscrapers. Tradition is charmingly preserved and even revered. For instance, when visiting the main palace of Seoul, the magnificent Gyeongbokgung, despite its low-rise nature, you have a clear, unobstructed view of the surrounding mountains, giving the visitor a view that he or she would have enjoyed centuries ago. This is possibly deliberate because, even though the palace is in the centre of the city, there are none of the skyscrapers in view that dominate the rest of Seoul.

The glorious Gyeongbokgung Palace, Seoul

Furthermore, there’s always an interesting alleyway to have a look down with old-world Korean architecture.

In the back streets of Seoul

Particularly memorable was a centuries-old tea house in the district of Insadong that was tucked away at the end of a tiny lane off a busy thoroughfare. Inside, it was like being transported into a bamboo tree-house in the middle of a jungle. You sit on massive cushions, sip fragrant, fruity tea and gently fall asleep.

One of the teahouses of Seoul

Seoul is very famous (particularly in Asia) for its eating and its shopping. For me though, it was always going to be mainly about the eating. Korean food is distinct from other countries in Asia. Whilst influenced by Japan and China, Korean food has many elements all to itself. Of course, we ate the ubiquitous kimchi, and I mean ubiquitous! The pickled vegetable dish accompanies almost every meal, even breakfast! It’s a spicy and sour pickle generally made from cabbage and radishes and is delicious eaten cold. It often comes as a side dish. The impression I get is that kimchi is like a cassoulet or a ragu or a feijoada where people get very passionate about the correct recipe and, with kimchi, this probably differs from town to town. It is, without doubt, the national dish of Korea and it’s almost absurdly healthy. It’s rich in vitamins and minerals; one publication even listed it as one of the world’s top five healthiest foods. Some even believed that it offered those eating it protection during the infamous SARS outbreak of 2003. Kimchi is perhaps best enjoyed with another superb dish: bibimbap – (which means ‘mixed meal’) a sticky dish of rice, various meats and stir-fried vegetables, such as cucumber and soybean sprouts, with some serious spice on it; it’s all stirred through the rice thoroughly before eating.

Other great meals we enjoyed included another great Korean national pastime: the Korean barbeque. We found a beautiful barbeque house in the district of Sinchon with stripped blond wood walls and floors with large, low-hanging metal lights over tables which had barbeques in the middle. These are fired up and trays of raw meats are brought to your table. We had piles of thinly sliced beef and pork which we gently cooked ourselves. This is washed down with lashings of chilli and is absolutely delicious. No barbeque is complete, however, without big glugs of the national drink, soju, a vodka-like drink (about 20% ABV), enjoyed cold, and with highly civilised protocols of its own, in that you’re not allowed to refill your own glass, fostering consideration and attentiveness amongst the diners – such a convivial practice! It’s very potent; you drink it neat and not being able to fill your own glass makes mealtimes seem almost like a drinking game. We finished that evening off in Sinchon on a bar crawl puffing on hookah pipes and playing genuinely Korean drinking games. The barman gives you a glass of lager and a shot glass of soju. The shot glass of soju is lowered gently into the glass of lager and you have to drink it in one go catching the shot glass in your teeth!

Korean BBQ, (Not sure why I’m wearing a sheer cardigan!)

On another evening, we ate at a superb seafood stall overflowing with giant whelks, huge clams, massive mussels and mountains of noodles. Another time, we had another classic Korean dish (at the most famous eatery for it in the district of Myeongdong) ginseng chicken, a delicious broth with a small, whole chicken (a bit like a poussin) stuffed with sticky rice and huge roots of ginseng; again absolutely superb – restorative and energising.

Some interesting Seoul street food – this was spicy and very chewy!

Perhaps, though, the most memorable meal came on our last night in Seoul, in a seafood restaurant. I absolutely love sushi, and that night was the first time I’d tried extreme sushi. I’d been apprehensive over this for a few days now; we ordered, amongst other things, a couple of baby octopi, prepared Korean style. The lady, with slight world-weariness, fished them out of a tank and took them into the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, out came a large plate of translucent, totally raw octopi all cut up into tiny pieces, all of which were still moving and wriggling despite being dead! Even picking up the pieces was tricky and, once accomplished, the squirming piece of still-raw octopi was still performing after-death gymnastics on the end of my chopsticks. It took me a long time to put it into my mouth but eventually I did it, chewing really hard and really fast to just get it down. It’s a crazy feeling; the tentacles still have tiny ‘suckers’ on them and, I swear to God, you can feel the things gripping the insides of your cheeks and on your tongue; it’s completely freaky and totally memorable!

Wriggling baby octopus, still wriggling

There’s also some excellent street food to be enjoyed in Seoul, including some unbelievably spicy chicken skewers; they blew my head off! There’re also foot-high ice-creams, delicious deep-fried thinly sliced potato dipped in a cheesy sauce, and tasty pastries. Definitely go to Korea for the food – it’s well worth it.

Spicy as hell chicken on a stick

For all my avowed dislike of shopping, I must admit that I did get quite into it here in Seoul. Shopping is one of the main Korean passions. We explored the famed Dongdaemun Market, an enormous complex, both indoors and out. Here, you’ll find knock-offs of every brand you can think of, from boxer shorts to jeans to the latest trainers. Don’t miss Insadong, with its innovative Ssamji street; literally a street that winds up like a helter-skelter to maximize space, and full of great little stationary shops, tea-houses, and art galleries. Myeongdong is the major brand name and boutique shopping district and here, you can take a break from merciless card punishment to replenish your flagging energy levels at a tasty barbeque restaurant. My favourite shopping area though has to be the Sinchon district offering slightly quirkier clothes and interesting fashions designed by local creatives.

Awesome shopping arcade in Seoul

Public baths are a popular pastime in Korea and we visited one of the biggest in Seoul. The baths are split into three areas: the general unisex areas, an area for men only and an area just for women. Everyone starts off in the unisex area packed full of water-based features and attractions designed to promote well-being; so there’s a range of saunas, powerful jet pools, hot spas, cold spas, spas outside and a stream with tiny little fish that eat, I shit you not, the dead skin off your feet! Absolutely on the very edge of excruciating! After you’re shrivelled like an old teabag, it’s time for men and women to go their separate ways and enter the private baths. Everyone takes off their clothes and goes to the vast sauna and plunge pool area. After freezing and scalding yourself several times, you pick up a fresh bar of soap and a toothbrush and sit on a tiny stool at one of the many low showers set in row upon row. Cubicles seem to be a no-no! Then you give yourself a thorough clean. After this, you rinse yourself off and go to the drying area. Public, washing and social nudity, it’s all completely natural here and it’s all very convivial!

Some thoughts on China

chanman · Mar 27, 2009 · Leave a Comment

As mentioned, I went into China with some preconceptions, many with a degree of negativity and probably arising from years of exposure to Western media and also from the Hong Kong part of my heritage.

In the West, China is usually painted as slightly sinister, repressive, and unaligned with collective Western interests, particularly as seen by its long-held tacit and not-so-tacit alignment with the more reprehensible regimes in the world such as Mugabe’s Zimbabwe.

Every Chinese action is heavily scrutinised; from its handling of domestic issues such as Tibet, the 2008 Olympic Games and the recent upheaval in Xinjiang to Chinese foreign policy (such as their handling of North Korean nuclear disarmament) and even to her handling of her currency and her alleged deliberate devaluation of the Renminbi (RMB) (as if other countries don‟t do the same).

It’s not just the West; Hong Kong people are also generally uneasy about their future with China. Prior to the handover to the Chinese in 1997, Hong Kong had been under British control for around 150 years and the island saw phenomenal growth under colonial rule.

Despite China’s assurance that Hong Kong‟s status and institutions would remain stable for at least 50 years post-handover, Hong Kong fears China‟s perceived gradual neglect of its interests in favour of its economic rival, Shanghai. Further, on a less self-interested note and on a more prejudicial note (as we have seen), Hong Kong people have many negative perceptions of people from the mainland; principally that mainlanders lack sophistication, both in manners and in taste.

Needless to say, prior to my visit, all of the above had permeated my consciousness to some extent. However, thankfully, all of the above negativity was challenged, re-evaluated and overturned during my time there; I‟ll try my best to explain why.

Let’s have a closer look at some of the charges made against China. China has many critics worldwide, particularly from many parts of the Western media; nearly every human rights organisation; and most Western governments, to a greater or lesser extent. She comes under criticism and scrutiny for, amongst other things, her human rights record, her handling of domestic unrest (witness Tibet 2008, Beijing 1989, Xinjiang 2009), and her financial affairs (alleged devaluation of her currency to maintain her export driven economic model).

Recently, heavy scrutiny of China came during the Beijing Olympics 2008. The media chose to focus on the alleged “forcing” of child athletes into extreme training programmes for years in order to ensure the biggest medal tally; on the wider treatment of Tibetans and foreign journalists covering the contemporaneous unrest in Tibet, and on whether the fantastic pyrotechnics of the opening ceremony would be possible under a multi-party state etc.

Underpinning all this negative press and scrutiny is, I think, the fact that China is a one-party state and (to exacerbate this in the eyes of the West) there’s the fact that she is not a natural ally (China holds a veto on the UN Security Council and the US, the UK and France are generally not able to “count‟ on China’s vote. (They can’t count on Russia’s either but Russia may be held to a lesser standard of scrutiny as today Russia is, to a greater extent than China at least, democratic and perhaps viewed as more of an ally to the West). Worse, in the West’s eyes, China often aligns itself instead with unsavoury regimes such as Zimbabwe). Now I’m not passing judgement on China‟s human rights track record or any of the above, but I think it’s only right that, in the absence of any forthcoming defence, the debate be given some proper context.

It probably winds the West up more when it appears that China just doesn’t really seem to care what the West thinks. China never looks to defend or explain herself and her recent history goes some way to explaining its refusal to listen to the West. Since the end of the Ming and the beginning of the Qing Dynasty in the 1600s, China had been in relative decline to emerging world powers, (the newly industrialised powers of Europe and the US and also (later) in the modernised, militarised and resurgent Japan).

China’s military weakness and insularity was exploited by the British who forced the opium trade upon the Chinese (effectively creating markets in China), with the resultant epidemic drug dependence further weakening the nation. The Chinese desire to rid itself of the drug trade led to conflict with Britain and to the First Opium War. China’s defeat and the resulting settlement meant that Britain had exclusive rights to continue the opium trade and also to receive sovereign rights over Hong Kong. Shanghai eventually became controlled by the British, the Americans and the French.

Imagine the national sense of humiliation of losing a war that was forced upon you and then having major parts of your country controlled by foreign nations. In 1895, China lost further face when she lost the Sino-Japan War (further evidence of relative decline). Further humiliation came with the Versailles Treaty in 1919 when Germany‟s territorial interests in China were not returned to China but instead were given to Japan. Before and during the Second World War, Japan invaded, occupied and committed countless atrocities against the Chinese population. In light of all this conflict and deeply felt humiliation heaped upon her by foreign powers, it is little wonder that China, to this day, might distrust outside influences, and view unsolicited criticism as unreasonable interference. This history goes a long way to explaining China’s current diplomacy and foreign policy for, psychologically, how does one overcome a sense of humiliation? Through self-analysis and confident self-assertion without the aid of others, particularly when those “others‟ played a big part in that perceived humiliation. This is the prism through which much Chinese action and policy should be viewed.

I was just leaving China as the Xinjiang (a province in western China) riots in the summer of 2009 were blowing up. Tensions between the minority (in China as a whole) Uyghurs and the majority (in China as a whole) Han Chinese exploded resulting in at least 200 dead. Much of the world’s media reported this as an inevitable result of Chinese policy towards its minority groups, such as that of the recent mass migration of Han Chinese to Xinjiang. This policy on its own may not have led to tension but the perception amongst Uyghurs is that there is bias towards the Han from policymakers and that the economic mushrooming which has benefited vast swathes of the country has passed them by. Comparisons with the situation in Tibet were inevitable in the outside press and world opinion. There‟s no easy solution to this issue but again I think it’s useful to consider the history and the particular circumstances of China as a nation before judging the policy. China has always been made up of disparate and diverse peoples and cultures and she was only unified in around 221 BC after great struggle.

Keeping it together and maintaining racial and cultural harmony has been a struggle ever since, with a return to the Warring States from around 300 AD to the 12th Century. Just think about it: China has a huge population; with easily 1.3 billion people. That‟s more than 20 times the population of the UK. To exacerbate the obvious difficulties of governing this massive country and the vast lands within her borders, China is comprised of around 56 ethnic groups. Many speak their own dialects, the problems of which are obvious even to the extent that Mandarin had to be standardised during the 20th Century. This is the context that global calls for Tibetan autonomy and the growing calls for Han withdrawal from Xinjiang have to be addressed in light of. The concept of “One China‟ has been around for millennia. The current policy towards the minorities is driven by an ancient history of keeping all the elements of China under one umbrella; it is not driven by persecution but by a deep-rooted desire for harmony and union. Indeed, it’s often overlooked that there are actually various positive discrimination initiatives to help minorities such as exemptions from the “one-child, one-family‟ policy that holds in most other parts of China.

All of which raises the old debates surrounding self-determination. Should Tibet be granted independence if it wants it? Should Xinjiang be treated in the same way? Oddly, the West is strangely silent when it comes to the same issues at play within the borders of its allies. How else to explain the global silence regarding the Catalan issue in Spain? Nobody calls for the Spanish Government to grant the Catalan province independence. To do so would be considered unreasonable interference in internal affairs. The same goes for the internal rifts in Belgium between the Flemish and the Walloons, the not insignificant movement for independence from nationalist elements in Scotland, the French Canadians in Quebec, the Chechens in Chechnya etc.; outsiders don‟t interfere with these states.

It seems though that China is considered fair game. Why? I think it‟s because it‟s a one party state etc. something that‟s seen as a bit morally suspect, with the consequence that its policies are seen to have less legitimacy. Now I‟m not advocating the one-party state over the multi-party system (!) but whilst I was in China, I didn‟t see an oppressed, unhappy people. I saw people who were going about their daily lives trying to make their way in the more open economy of recent decades. People don‟t live in fear of the thought police either; witness the aftermath of the Sichuan earthquake in 2008, where many have been openly critical of the Government particularly in respect of allegedly poorly constructed buildings that collapsed in the massive tremors. When people say that there‟s no free press in China; well that‟s true probably in terms of criticising the government but otherwise the same preoccupations concern the press in China as they do in other countries, with pages devoted to sport, movies, music, celebrities etc. topics about which reportage is unfettered.

One thing that did concern me, however, was the state surveillance of the internet. I was there during the spat that China had with Google in around June 2009 (an issue which has since exploded again in January 2010), to the extent that Google was disabled in China for a few days. Foreign media websites are clearly vetted before the page opens (as there‟s a lengthy time lag with sites such as the BBC and The Times) and some story pages don‟t open, citing server issues. Whilst some censorship may be necessary in all societies (such as in the interests of national security), this type of information censorship is clearly not a good thing. However, it’s not such a stretch to imagine that multi-party democratic states also monitor the internet, and if they do, then maybe the state in question is just far more judicious as to the sites that are vetted and disabled. Regardless, the extent to which the internet in China can actually be controlled by the state will inevitably decrease as vast numbers of its huge population are online with so many of the users being active bloggers, social networkers, instant messengers, etc. who’ll all become harder to monitor and control, just as the real-time reporting and information that pinged around the world during the 2009 Xinjiang rioting demonstrated. China is on the way to becoming a fully open society; it will just take some time.

In terms of any snide prejudices about the people themselves, particularly from the Hong Kong perspective as described above, from my first contact in China, through Nanning and then on the train from Hong Kong to Beijing, I found any hitherto held opinions to be completely unfounded. Chinese people are incredibly friendly and kind. From train staff to food sellers to fellow hostel guests to other shoppers, the people were just lovely. Encounters I remember particularly fondly were the staff at Nanning train station who kindly waited with me through the night, the great hot-pot stall lady in the next hutong down from the one we stayed in Beijing, animated taxi-drivers, and friendly fellow customers in restaurants and street stalls who implored (read dared) us to take on more and more chilli or eat sheep’s testicles! Like anywhere in the world, people outside the cities may lack a certain worldliness but the charges of a lack of sophistication definitely cannot be levelled at the people in Beijing and Shanghai who are, for the most part, cultured, confident and achingly urbane. I absolutely love it in China; I love the culture, I love the food and I love the people; I’m definitely going back.

Shanghai

chanman · Mar 27, 2009 · Leave a Comment

After Beijing and the Great Wall, I said goodbye to my cousin Jerry, for a few days at least, whilst he returned to Hong Kong and I travelled south-eastwards to Shanghai. I took an overnight sleeper train. Trains are a pleasurable experience in China; my train left from Beijing Central Station, where I got the impression that night travel is a popular mode of transport in China. Passengers waiting for their trains sit outside the station in small huddles, with families and friends. There are masses of street hawkers all selling exactly the same products: water, tea, tiny folding chairs for waiting on and, of course, a myriad of cups of instant noodles for the train ride. Trains in China all come equipped with free hot-water dispensers for tea and noodles – so civilised! Train travel is a dream here; comfortable full-length bed bunks (full-length for me I suppose at 5 feet 6 inches tall), helpful and attentive staff (even through the mutual incomprehension), an excellent buffet carriage replete with tasty food and, most importantly, trains depart on time and arrive on schedule.

Shanghai sits on the east coast of China on the Huangpu River Delta. The city can be usefully split into two zones: Pudong to the East and Puxi to the West. Puxi is supposedly where all the culture and history are whereas Pudong is (according to the guidebooks anyway) fairly soulless; it‟s where the new global commercial future of Shanghai is based, with its futuristic mega-buildings and impossibly bright and gaudy lights. I was only in Shanghai for a short time and I stayed exclusively in Puxi.

It‟s impossible to describe Shanghai without a brief discussion of its past. Shanghai has a complicated history chequered by a series of humiliations inflicted by the Western powers and by unimaginable atrocities committed by the Japanese during its occupation of Shanghai in the Second World War. Shanghai’s real history started after the Treaty of Nanjing in 1842, following the First Opium War with Britain and her allies. The resulting peace settlement (as we saw earlier) saw Hong Kong ceded to the British and, amongst other things, saw Shanghai become Britain‟s most important post in China, both strategically and in terms of trade. Other nations followed Britain‟s lead, with the Americans and the French establishing their own “concessions‟ (areas of land within Chinese borders whilst deemed outside of China’s control). The following decades saw Shanghai mushroom from a fishing port to a global metropolis. Evidence of the colonial powers’ occupation can be seen all over the famed Bund, a stretch of riverside real estate filled with European-influenced architecture. Further humiliation was heaped on China by the defeat by Japan in the Sino-Japanese War of 1895 and Japan entered the politics and development of Shanghai. In the first few decades of the 20th Century, in addition to rising prosperity and worldwide prominence for its economic might and glamour, Shanghai gained an international reputation for drugs, gambling and sleaze. The use of opium was rife and the drug helped the foreign powers reinforce their grip on the city. It was only at the closing chapters of the Second World War, and only after the horrific occupation of the city by the Japanese, that Shanghai fully returned to Chinese control. However, even under Chinese control, Shanghai had to wait until 1992, when the then Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping, after seeing the huge success of the Southern Special Economic Zones such as Shenzhen (following the experiment to open up China‟s economy) decreed that it could modernise; Pudong’s skyline is testament to Shanghai‟s incessant desire to become the future.

Having just come from Beijing, a city I absolutely adored, I wasn’t blown away by Shanghai. It’s relentlessly commercial and modern and seemingly proud to be so. And why not? The city is the economic engine room of the new China. However, a great world city needs more than new banks, a spanking new stock exchange and glass and steel edifices in ever more futuristic designs. A great world city needs a world class cultural scene with globally renowned galleries and museums, stunning libraries and a burgeoning creative scene of all shades, in fields as diverse as literature, food, fashion, music and academia.

Thankfully, however, there were pockets of culture to be found in Shanghai such as in the brilliant art district at 50 Moganshan Road (a superb maze of warehouses and galleries in an excellent creative enclave), in the elegant former French Concession, and also in the invigorating warren of alleyways at Taikang Road, which was full of artisan shops, boutiques, galleries, cafes and restaurants; a great place to get lost in for an afternoon with your camera and a few Renminbi (RMB) in your pocket. 50 Moganshan Road is particularly interesting; it feels empty of visitors but that’s primarily because it’s so big; there are galleries and studios almost everywhere, behind decrepit buildings and tucked away behind shops. After browsing a few hit-and-miss galleries, I popped into a studio belonging to Zhang Zongmei, a photographic artist well-known in China. Zhang is about 40 years old with an infectious energy. He was incredibly friendly, and he invited me to join him and his apprentice for a fairly elaborate tea ceremony. Through his apprentice’s translation, we talked about our lives. He grew animated when he found out I was travelling. He wanted to know where I’d been and what I’d thought I’d taken from the experience. We talked haltingly about philosophy (my degree subject came out) and he tried to tell me something about a potential synthesis between Eastern and Western philosophy. Of Western philosophers, he was most fond of Schopenhauer and he laughed when I told him that I thought Schopenhauer’s ideas were life-denying. As I walked around his gallery and looked at his abstract photography, I had a strong sense of admiration for this artist’s way of life and his commitment to his vision; it’s something I’m drawn to but I wonder whether I have the balls to pursue full-time and without compromise. It was here in the creative districts and the alleyways of Shanghai that I felt I’d seen the real city.

The food in Shanghai, as expected, is fantastic and probably most famous for the varieties of dumplings on offer. Shanghai is the home of dumplings. The most famous are jiaozi, xiaolongbao, guotie and shengjian; all filled with pork and vegetables, some steamed, others fried, some containing a juicy broth and some eaten with finely sliced ginger and rice vinegar. My favourite has to be the shengjian; fried on one side and filled with a stunning broth from the cooking juices of the pork inside. These have to be eaten carefully as just chewing them in the wrong way often means the delicious, meaty, rich hot broth goes everywhere, burning your face and ruining your clothes! The best, and most locally approved, way of eating them is to pierce the top of the dumpling with a chopstick and then to suck the juice out of it and then eat the rest, preferably with a bit of fiery chilli paste – absolutely delicious!

Shanghai is undoubtedly a huge part of the future for China but it’s just one face of its national identity. In a city where almost nothing is older than 150 years, it’s easy to forget that you are standing in a country whose history stretches back continuously more than 5,000 years. The skyline of Pudong is no doubt impressive but it left me cold. The colonial cityscape of Puxi was more interesting than Pudong but still nowhere near as fascinating as the mind-blowing sights of Beijing. Beijing somehow effortlessly combines modernity with the glory of its mighty past, and manages to merge looking firmly forwards to its future as the administrative centre for the world’s next superpower with its endless creativity and unshakeable cultural confidence. This definitely won’t be the last time I visit China; next time I’ll go to the west of the country; to Sichuan, to Tibet, to Xinjiang, to Shanxi etc. This country is huge and I’ve only just scratched the surface.

The Great Wall of China at Huanghua

chanman · Mar 27, 2009 · Leave a Comment

During my time in Beijing, we took a trip up to the Great of Wall of China; I mean you can’t come to Beijing and not go to the Great Wall, can you! The Great Wall was begun over 2,000 years ago and is over 4,000 miles long. Historians think that more than 2 million people died during the construction of the fortification. It’s much believed that the Great Wall is visible from space, but according to Wikipedia, that’s an urban myth; even at low orbit (100 miles up), it’s not visible to the naked eye.

We avoided the touristy sections of the wall such as at Badaling, where we’d heard that lifts and electric carts were the order of the day. Ever the intrepid backpackers seeking travelling authenticity (ahem!), we chose to go to the Wall at Huanghua, a section named after a nearby small town and we joined a tiny tour group for a day trip.

It was an early start and it was a two hour drive to Huanghua. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and I knew it was going to be a warm one (we found out later that we were in the middle of a heat-wave – around 38 degrees Celsius). Before long we were out of the city and weaving our way through the forested hills and suddenly I could see the Wall in the distance snaking its way through the mountains to the north. The group was seven strong, travellers who all had the same idea as us, to avoid the throngs. In the event, we were privileged enough to have the Wall to ourselves that day. We started at the dam and reservoir just outside the town and climbed up the rubbled steps onto the Wall itself and slowly (and I mean really slowly) made our way westwards towards our rendezvous with our minibus about six kilometres away.

Me and my cousin Jerry on the Great Wall of China

The views were immediately magnificent; look eastwards and you see the Wall curl off far into the distance; turn around and the Wall looms steeply above. The Wall at this point was around six metres wide and about three metres high. The ramparts were about one metre higher than the floor of the Wall. At some points, there were steps; at others, there were just heaps of rubble and we definitely had to watch our footing.

Looking down the Great Wall

It’s a difficult feeling to describe, but standing on the Wall, you feel a palpable sense of history; and not just any old history such as that of a battle in the 1700s, but a sense of serious and weighty history; of being on one of the major achievements of human engineering and ambition such as Machu Picchu and Angkor Wat. It’s astonishing to think that this was conceived and built more than a thousand years ago and that it’s still very much standing to this day.

Look how steep the Great Wall can be! Imagine it was icy in winter

We strolled along the Wall at a snail’s pace sitting down on the edges, just soaking up the views and marvelling at the fact that we had the Wall all to ourselves. Eventually, we saw signs of life with the appearance of an old man with a large sack on his back who starting screaming at us angrily in Mandarin as he raced off down the hill. I think he was stealing chunks of the Wall.

It goes on for miles and miles

Afterwards, we stopped for lunch at a small local eaterie in Huanghua and enjoyed superlative and incredibly warm hospitality from the local matriarch who spoiled us with masses of delicious food that was never going to be finished, washed down with some very welcome ice-cold tea as we reflected on our privileged morning at the incomparable Great Wall.

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