Vietnam

Distance covered since last blog:1,600km

There is only one train per day from China to Vietnam and it leaves in the early evening, which in theory works pefectly – you can hop on in Nanning, get some sleep, then wake up refreshed in Hanoi 12 hours later. This is not the case. In reality you have to stay awake for the majority of the journey, getting on and off for various customs checks and presenting your passport. I suffered my usual problem of looking absolutely nothing like my passport photo and was heavily scrutinised. Before they got speaking to me, the people in my carriage had determined that because of my beard I had to be Russian! As always they turned out to be great company, bought me dinner, and kept me entertained with their endless questions. Conversation wasn't particularly easy however: I would speak English, a Chinese guy would translate it into Vietnamese, the Vietnamese girl would answer me in Vietnamese, then the Chinese guy would translate it back into English for me! A few of us agreed to share a taxi once we arrived in Hanoi, and we were absolutely mobbed by drivers once we got off the train. I let the Vietnamese girl do all the talking, until after a few minutes of pestering from one rather determined driver when I had to get involved with a loud ‘F**k off!’ I was tired and sweaty, but still not a great way to introduce myself to the Vietnamese people! My friends kindly paid for my bus and taxi fare, and I arrived at ‘Hanoi Backpackers Hostel’ at 5.30am absolutely shattered and thrilled about the prospect of a bed. So you can imagine my heartbreak when I was told I couldn’t check-in until 11. Thankfully they let me into the ‘DVD room’, where I positioned myself under a fan, then passed out on the sofa.

Hanoi

After checking-in I set out on a walking tour of the ‘old town’ district of Hanoi. There is a lovely catherdral, picturesque lake and countless little alleyways bustling with activity. My highlight however was stumbling upon an ice cream parlour named “Fanny’s” – I immaturely stood in front of it giggling for some time. As always, finding the local food was a priority, so I pottered into a little street side restaurant to get a bowl of ‘pho bo’ (beef noodle soup) which was fantastic. That evening I enjoyed a few beers on the rooftop bar with an American, a Chinese girl, a French guy, a Dutch girl and a Canadian guy – I described us as a ‘United Nations of Banter’ (they didn’t get it). Later we went out for dinner and I found myself sitting next to an American history professor, which as you can imagine I was thrilled about. We really killed the buzz at the table for everyone else though by discussing in detail the Nullification Crisis of the 1820’s, but I was loving it. I also loved my ‘Stir-fried beef with lemongrass and chili’ – get used to me talking about Vietnamese food, it’s amazing. Vietnam is a bit of a culture shock after China, with the overwhelming amount of tourists it attracts, and it is going to take some getting used to.

My next stop after Hanoi was Hue, which is a 14 hour overnight bus journey south. These sleeper buses are clearly designed with little Asian people in mind, not strapping Westerners such as myself, and so therefore are rather cramped. I estimate I got about 3 hours sleep, so much like Hanoi I arrived exhausted and cranky. Conveniently the bus stopped opposite my hostel, so I didn’t have to deal with the army of taxi drivers who had gathered to prey upon us. I checked-in (after I’d thrown a small rage when I hit my head on the door of the bus), then had breakfast with two Polish girls in the hostel restaurant. I wasn’t sure what to get, so used a technique I have now done throughout Vietnam, which is asking the waitress what her favourite local food is, then agreeing to have that regardless of what it is. In this instance it was sizzling pork meatballs with onions, noodles and soup. Not a traditional breakfast I admit, but damn tasty! Hue has a brilliant ‘citadel’ in it’s centre which was interesting to walk around – it was devastated during the war which makes it fascinating to explore for an American history geek such as myself. I was so taken by it that that evening I went back to the hostel and watched ‘Full Metal Jacket’ (which is set in Hue). The following evening got pretty messy as me and my lovely roommate Abbie attacked the wide range of novelty flavoured vodkas behind the bar (Snickers, Gummie Bears, Fish sauce etc). We obviously made lots of friends in the bar, none more so than ‘Vinny the Viking’ who is the head barman in the hostel and from Iceland. I had been told by the guys who owned the hostel in Hanoi that if I punched him he would give me a free beer, so I did, and he not only gave me a beer, but bought my entire table a round of shots! What a hero! At the end of the night Abbie passed out in the toilet then refused to come out until her ‘bearded roomie’ came to get her – I’m clearly perceived as trustworthy.

Me and Vinny the Viking

 Next stop was Hoi An, a pretty small but very attractive town about 5 hours south of Hue. After exploring the town a bit, I basically spent a couple of days chilling out after some exhausting days and nights in Hue. My hotel had a gorgeous receptionist (who always welcomed me with an ice cold moist towelette from the fridge), air conditioning in my room, and a swimming pool. You can understand why I chose it as a chill out venue! Hoi An has over taken Wuhan as the hottest place I have been so far on this tour. In a restaurant a waitress asked me if I was ok – the sweat was pouring down my face so much that she thought I was crying. I was lucky I had these few days to relax, because despite all the warnings, I was totally unprepared for where I headed next: Nha Trang.

I would describe Nha Trang as like an Asian version of Malia – a huge tourist trap, catering for Westerners who want to spend the day lying on the beach, having a burger and chips for lunch, then spend the evenings getting drunk with other tourists. It is comfortably my least favourite place in Vietnam. Sadly, drunk tourists attract crime. I’ll quote the Lonely Planet: “Getting too drunk at night in Nha Trang is like spraying ‘rob me’ perfume on yourself”. When I arrived at my hostel there was a girl in tears in reception who had just been robbed, and this was pretty much the theme of my three days there. In that time, every single person in my dorm was either robbed, mugged or beaten up (except me – I’m streetwise and intimidating). Three sizeable Danish lads were surrounded by ten guys on motorbikes and forced to hand over their wallets – two nights in a row!! My main incident came at about 1am one night when I heard a commotion outside my room. I went to investigate and found my roommates, Dave and Sarah, in a blazing argument with security. They had been robbed and were asking the hostel to call the police. For some reason things had got out of hand, security had hit Dave on the head a few times with a metal baton and the receptionist had punched Sarah. My chivalrous nature took over and I aggressively ‘squared up’ to the guy who punched Sarah (probably the first time I’ve ever done that in my life), and he backed off. Dave and I stayed downstairs for a while to defuse things. When I got back to the dorm I found Sarah talking me up as an absolute hero, and I was happy to accept the praise. I spent the next day down at the beach, but couldn’t bring myself to venture out at night, so stayed in and watched ‘Apocalypse Now’ (part of which is set in Nha Trang) then got the hell out of there the next day and headed for the mountain city of Dalat. Once again I was exhausted on my bus journey because I had been awoken at 4am by a couple having sex in the bed next to me. Such inappropriate behaviour in a communal dorm! I admit I quite enjoyed it for about 10 minutes – she was pretty hot – but it soon grew tiresome and was keeping me awake. After an hour and half (which I applaud the bloke for!) the sun had come up and the girl noticed that I was watching them. She obviously freaked out, but it at least meant I could get up and leave them in peace, and I went downstairs and had a green tea with the receptionist. The girl tracked me down later that morning and, deeply embarrassed, apologised profusely.

Waiting for my bus to leave Nha Trang I got speaking to an English girl called Claire who latched onto me for a couple of days. She had absolutely no banter and was seriously hard work speaking to. She suggested that we share a hotel room to half the cost, which I reluctantly agreed to, but flat out refused to go sight-seeing with her and instead headed out on my own. Dalat itself is a lovely city, but it’s main attraction is the countryside which surrounds it. The obvious way to explore this is by hiring a motorbike/scooter and heading out alone, however I had a embarrassing failure on a motorbike in India a couple of years ago and have lost all confidence in my ability to use them. Hence I hired a bloke to drive me around for the day, exploring the mountains, valleys and waterfalls of the surrounding area. I suitably irritated Claire that evening by watching the entire British Grand Prix in our room when she was trying to sleep. She was moving on to Siagon (the same as me), but I knew that if I left with her we would end up staying in the same hotel, so I stayed an extra day in Dalat to shake her off.

Around Dalat

The bus to Saigon was pretty uneventful. I sat with a Danish lad who I met in Nha Trang, then got into a rather heated conversation with two Israelis who were slagging off China (don’t slag off China around me!) We are right in the heart of the ‘monsoon season’ now, and unfortunately the daily thunderstorm had hit just as my bus arrived – so I had to track down my hostel in teeming rain. After a while I decided my backpack was getting too wet so ducked into a bar to take cover, and who should I see but Dave and Sarah from the Nha Trang ‘fight night’! I had a beer with them while the rain eased off and we discussed future travel plans. I found my hostel with little fuss but annoyingly the last bed in the dorm had literally just been reserved (by the bloke who walked in about 5 seconds before me!) I was offered a private room above a nearby restaurant for $7 per night which I gratefully accepted – double bed, big TV, shower, balcony. The works! This turned out to be even more perfect because The Open Championship was on during my time in Siagon, so I was able to take in a lot of golf. Siagon is my favourite place in Vietnam, and one of my favourite places I have been so far – it is intensely hot, but a wonderful city which I have thoroughly enjoyed exploring. One of the ‘must see’ sights of Siagon is the ‘War Remnants Museum’ which gives an admittedly one-sided view of the Vietnam War, but it was deeply moving none the less and I don’t mind confessing to having to dry my eyes at a couple of the more shocking exhibits. Nearby is the ‘Presidential Palace’ which is where the final moments of the Vietnam War occurred in 1975 and I got a really nerdy thrill about being there, until a one-legged beggar starting pestering me so I left on the back of a motorbike. There’s nothing quite like whizzing through Saigon on the back of a motorbike – I was enjoying it so much I high-fived another motorbike driver at some traffic lights. I hopped off near my hotel to get a cheese and chili baguette for lunch, and while I waited for it to be prepared an elderly woman of about 80 snuck up behind me, tugged my beard, giggled like crazy, then scurried off! Beard assault! So I have a little bit more of Vietnam to do, before nipping across the border into Cambodia.

A 'Huey' helicopter - an icon of the Vietnam War

The End of China

Distance covered since last blog: 4,460km

So I’ve broken another camera. This one went down in installments, and I suppose was my fault this time. Firstly I broke the screen in Tianjin when I stood on it walking back from the toilet in the middle of the night; then I finished the job and broke the lense in Qingtao when I dropped it. Hence the photos in this blog are minimal and of low quality (taken on my iPod).

As I mentioned in my last blog, I needed to start moving quickly south through China. I have probably spent too long here, and need to get down to the Vietnam border to maximise my time in SE Asia. So expect a lot of train related stories here! My first journey was the epic train from Qingtao to Chengdu, which covered 2,600km and took a little under 2 days. A journey of such length is different to others that I have done – it’s a different midset - and I became pretty good mates with the fellow people undertaking the massive journey in my carriage. Things didn't start off so well though – I settled down in my seat opposite an 8 year old girl who immediately covered her eyes and spent 10 minutes looking at me in fear. It later transpired it was the beard freaking her out. Eventually she said something to her Mum who agreed to switch seats with her so she didn't have to look at me anymore. As it turned out, me and the girl (‘Chi Chi’) ended up becoming best friends. We watched ‘Inception’ together, played cards, and taught each other to count to ten in each others languages. A highlight of the journey was being told ‘Chi Chi isn’t scared of you anymore’. My most important mate on the train was Leo – a 31 year old ex-English teacher/Christian missionary – who basically acted as my translator. Everyone wanted to question me about England, China, my future travel plans etc, and I was in constant demand for the entire journey. Someone actually slapped me on the legs when I was asleep because they wanted conversation. I woke up relucantly, bought a round of beers for the lads, and played cards until 2am. They thrashed me and it was exhausting, but as always, meeting local people is the most enjoyable and rewarding part of travelling. At the end of the journey Chi Chi wrote ‘China welcomes you’ on a piece of paper and got everyone to sign it as a goodbye present for me which was lovely.

Upon arrival in Chengdu, Leo and a girl from my carriage (I forget her name) insisted on paying for my taxi to the hostel, then taking me out for some proper Sichuan cuisine – which they also paid for. Sichuan (or ‘Szechuan’ to you Europeans) cuisine is highly regarded in China and has some of the spiciest dishes the country produces. I can vouch for that! When my fellow diners weren’t looking I had to spit a mouthful onto the floor because it was so unbearabley hot! Most of the dishes were really tasty though, and I revisited the restaurant the next day. Amusingly, at the beginning of the meal Leo said a prayer thanking God for meeting me and wishing me well on my future travels. Not sure I’ve ever had a prayer said about me! I was knackered after the journey, so napped in the afternoon, then did a night time walking tour of Chengdu. Chengdu has a very impressive central square, with an enormous statue of Chairman Mao and fountains which are timed to orchestral music. I walked around for a few hours, had some noodles for dinner, then returned to my hostel. Woah! Were there just a couple of sentences about sight-seeing? That’s not what this is blog is all about! You want a story about me embarrassing myself? Hang in there, I’ve got a couple coming up…

The next day I continued the move south, taking an 11 hour journey from Chengdu to Kunming. As usual I attached myself to some locals, in this case the lovely Anna and Lilly. Apparently they spent ages building up the courage to come and speak to me because they are shy about their language skills, but like most young Chinese people their English was far better than they thought and we spoke for a few hours. Anna and Lilly went to bed but I wasn't very tired, so wandered down to the restaurant car to get a bottle of water. Ridiculously they had no water, so I was talked into getting a bottle of Budwesier (60p) by the persuasive barman. I had walked 11 carriages to get there, so felt compelled to buy something. I really didn't want it but settled down to drink it anyway. I think it was this reluctance that caused my first swig to ‘go down the wrong way’. I coughed, spluttered, dribbled on the table, then charged out the restaurant car and just made it to the toilet before spraying the mouthful of beer and my half-digested noodles all over the place. I did a half-arsed job of cleaning them up, then scurried back to carriage 7 (abandoning the Budwesier). Mine was the upper bunk of my berth, so I clambered up the ladder then flopped into bed. The girl who I found in it totally freaked out. The lights in the carriage had been turned off, and I had walked too far and was in fact in carriage 6. Everyone else in the berth sprung to life as well as I repeated ‘Sorry’ over and over again in Chinese and then fled into the darkness. I kept a low profile the next morning, then disembarked into the furnance that is Kunming.

Anna and Lilly

Kunming was a relatively low key affair for me. I did a standard walking tour through the city centre, taking in a couple of stunning archways, the lake and a shopping mall to buy a new iPod charger (I left mine in Chengdu). Kunming has the highest ratio of Muslims in China, so I hit a Muslim restaurant for lunch where I botched my ordering in Chinese and resorted to pointing at a neighbours lunch and asking for ‘one of these’. It was some delicious vegetable noodles in a spicy broth which I devoured and had again for dinner.

My main reason for going to Kunming was to make my way into the rest of Yunnan province, which many regard as one of the most naturally beautiful in China. I would have to agree, and the 11 hour bus I took from Kunming to Lijiang took in some incredible scenery (there would be a photo here if I had a camera). I spent an awful lot of time looking to my left. This may have been down to the scenery, or maybe down to the smoking hot girl who was sat next to the window. Her little denim shorts were so tiny she may as well not have been wearing them. The bus arrived into Lijiang in the heat of the day, and after being rejected by the first four taxis I spoke to, I eventually found one who was willing to take me to the ‘Old Town’. This area of the city is a maze of winding alleyways which cars can’t access, so I had to find the ‘Garden Inn’ hostel on foot. If you’ve been reading this blog from the start, you probably know the drill by now – I got a massive rage on and was sweating uncontrollably by the time I found it 30 minutes later. It was a charming hostel though, built around a leafy courtyard, run by girls who would regularly bring me free plates of fresh watermelon and plums. One of them even did two two-hour Chinese lessons with me for free! What else can you ask for in a hostel?

The Garden Inn in Lijiang

Lijiang itself is a quaint little town, built around a series of waterways, however it has turned into one of China’s most popular tourist destinations and everyday hundreds of buses arrive packed with Chinese tourists being led about by someone holding a coloured flag and speaking very loudly through a megaphone. This meant that I conducted my two walking tours in the early morning when the streets were emptier. The streets weren’t totally empty however – as I settled down on a low wall to eat my breakfast, a young child appeared to my right and began to urinate about 6 inches away from my leg. You can imagine the splash-back generated on a stone floor, and I was wearing shorts and flip-flops. The boys Mum didn't seem to care, although was clearly aware of what was happening, so I stood up as calmly as I could manage and walked off. The worst thing about the whole incident was that I couldn't wipe it off – I had no tissues, and didn't want it on my hand, so just had to leave it there! Urine aside, the thing I will remember most about Lijiang will be the BBQ. China must have literally millions of BBQ places to eat – from proper restaurants to blokes selling it in the street. I visited seven different vendors in Lijiang, ate different things at each one and they were all delicious.

I wanted to go to the nearby town of Dali, but as I mentioned at the start, I have spent too long in China and really need to get into Vietnam, so got a direct train back to Kunming where I would then move on to Nanning to sort out a visa. I got on the train to discover that my six bed sleeping berth was to be occupied by five Chinese girls and me – jackpot. I never really got to speak with them however because unfortunately I was emitting some unpleasant smells – a rather potent cocktail of feet, t-shirt, armpits and crotch. It was so repulsive, and I was so embarrassed, that I went and stood in between the carriages and listened to the entire of Les Miserables (2hr 30mins) before going back to bed after I was sure they were all asleep. I got into Kunming at about 5am and headed back to ‘The Hump’ youth hostel where I stayed last time. I’d been up most of the night trying to avoid being smelt so was exhausted and immediately hit the hay – I saw Kunming last time anyway. I got up for lunch though and was immediately set upon by 6 of the girls who work in the hostel and were on their break. They were eager to speak to me and of course I was happy to oblige. It started off rather awkwardly though because apparently I had met one of them last time I was in Kunming – she remembered every single detail about me, but I couldn't even recall her name! She was devastated, but cheered up eventually. I remember you now Monica!

The next day I headed off to Nanning, my 14^th and final destination in China. Not a lot to report from this journey. The train was less of a ‘train’ however, and more like a sauna on wheels – you know when Chinese people are sweating through their clothes it is seriously hot! Needless to say I was a dripping mess. My wetness wasn't helped by the fact that the mosquito repellent in my pocket mysteriously broke open and gushed down my leg – but looking on the bright side it actually improved the smell of my trousers. I befriended a bunch of students who were on their way back from a little holiday in Kunming. All of them spoke decent English and were great company.

The lads on the way to Nanning

Nanning itself is the most disgustingly humid place I have ever been to. It was 34 degrees and 80% humidity when I arrived and I was a total state. Luckily I found the hostel after a mere 10 minute walk, then spent 30 minutes in my room “shirt off, trou down” trying to return to a normal temperature. The city is quite pleasant, but really I’m just here to organise my Vietnam visa, then hop on the daily train to Hanoi. I fancied a final bowl of ‘la mian’ (my second favourite Chinese food) before leaving, so set out to find a place serving them. Sadly I couldn't find anywhere, and was starting to get a humidity sweat on, so ducked into a little place serving loads of meat dishes. I got a couple of pork and vegetables ones, some rice and a beer (I didn't want the beer, but was mocked by a nearby midget when I ordered a bottle of water). Halfway through my meal the owner came over and asked if it was too spicy - I said ‘no’ then took an opportunity to impress him by eating an entire red chilli. Cor blimey! I held back the tears for about 15 seconds before they were streaming down my face. I tried to finish the meal, but that was only making it worse, and I left the restaurant to howls of laughter from the customers, the staff and the midget. That was last night, and I am now sitting in the hostel reception awaiting the arrival of my visa, so hopefully tomorrow evening I will be on my way to ‘Nam.

China. What can I say? Originally I was never going to come here, then my plans changed and I would come here for just two weeks. I have ended up staying for two months, and frankly could stay here for two years. The countryside around Yangshuo and the rest of Guangxi province was some of the most stunning I have ever seen; Shanghai and Beijing are intoxicating cities you could spend weeks exploring; Guilin and Xi’an are charming places that it would be a pleasure to live in. From Guilin ‘rice noodles’ to Wuhan ‘hot-dry noodles’, from ‘beef and bok choy’ to ‘BBQ pork scewers’, the food has been phenomenal and a real highlight. My whole-hearted, but usually futile attempt to learn Mandarin has been fun as well. But as always, it’s the people that make the experiences and they are the thing I will take most away from this incredible country. Sophie and Mickey in Wuhan, Lisa and Gloria in Guilin, Kathy in Yangshuo, Eleanor and the ‘free talk’ class in Tianjin, Terry and Monica in Kunming, Leo in Chengdu, Daisy, Linda, Zsa Zsa and all the girls in Xi’an. Xièxie China! I’ll be back. Now, in the words of Delia Smith (sort of): ‘Vietnam. Let’s be having you!’

Guilin to Qingdao

Distance covered since last blog: 3,045km

After bidding a tearful farewell to Lisa (all her tears), I boarded an overnight train to the southern city of Shenzhen, which is the gateway into Hong Kong. Stupidly I had got on the train with no cash, so was unable to purchase any refreshments, which meant that by the time my train arrived at 9am I was dying of thirst. First I had to track down an ATM, which I managed to do in a nearby shopping centre, then find a bloke selling cold water. I chinned two bottles then set off to find the taxi rank. It was on my way that I felt that familiar feeling in my bowels which simply means ‘Get to a toilet immediately’. Shenzhen train station is a maze and I had no idea where to find one, besides, walking was making it worse. I dropped my bag in the middle of the concourse and stood there, without shame, clenching my buttocks with a look of steely-eyed determination on my face. Unless you’ve experienced this, it is difficult to fully understand the agony I was in – I genuinely contemplated deliberately pooing myself right there, in the middle of the train station, just to end the pain. In the end I made a mad dash to a nearby private health spa and basically demanded that either they let me use their toilet or I was involuntarily going to do it in their lobby. As it happens the girl was very helpful and literally ran with me to show me where to go. I spent that night in a youth hostel, and crossed the border into Hong Kong the next day.、

A typically foggy Hong Kong

My accommodation was another one recommended by Thomas – Chumking Mansions, right in the heart of central Kowloon. It is a monstrous building with 19 vast floors, filled mainly with guest houses and Indian restaurants and shops. It is well-known in Hong Kong as the main hub of immigrants from India and Africa, and this was apparent from the moment I walked in. It was like being back in India – I was immediately set upon by people trying to sell me a place to sleep, fake Rolexes, ‘hashish’, chicken byriani – you name it! In the end I settled for a guest house on the ninth floor and was led proudly to one of their ‘deluxe’ suites.

I didn’t really care about it being so small, just as long as it was clean – which it was. After venturing out into Hong Kong, the most urgent business was to find an Irish pub which would be showing the football that evening – it was the final day of the Premier League season. It took no longer than 20 seconds until I stumbled upon the rather predictably named‘Murphys’. I only nipped in to ask if it would be showing the football later, but as it happens they had the big AFC Wimbledon vs Luton match on the telly at the time, so I stayed and watched the entire thing. When I returned later, I attached myself to a group consisting of an American lad, a Norwegian girl and an Aussie girl and spent the night bantsing with them. Blackpool were relegated and I got surprisingly depressed about it.

The next two days were spent dominating Hong Kong, and seeing all that the small country has to offer. I purchased a ticket that allowed me to use the ‘Big Bus Tour’ (you may have seen these around London) for two days, so on the first day I did a tour around the main city area of Hong Kong Island. I’ll be honest – I didn’t get to sleep until about 5am the night before, and nodded off for quite a lot of the bus tour. This area of Hong Kong Island is mainly skyscrapers, and clearly wasn’t enough to keep my attention. After 2 hours I got off the bus (having dribbled down the front my t-shirt). For the second day of my bus tour I visited the south of HK Island, specifically the areas of Repulse Bay and Stanley – where one Richard Mogridge used to live as a youngster. I found a pub called the ‘Pickled Pelican’ (brilliant name) and got chatting to some Americans who had disembarked from an aircraft carrier which had docked in the harbour the day before. They made me do some shots with them, and I returned to my bus slightly more off-balance than when I got off. That night I had dinner from my usual Pakistani restaurant – the ‘Paki Mess’ (that was its actual name), then headed back to Murphy’s to see if I could make any more new friends. As it happens I couldn’t, but did pick up an amusing nickname from the bar girls: Mr. Hairy.

The plan for the next day was a visit to the other main island of Hong Kong – Lantau. The weather was pretty awful, but I went anyway. The main site there is a large Buddha statue up on a hill, but the weather was so bad that they had closed the cable car, so access was impossible. I thought I would hang around anyway (after all, I’d spent 30p on a tube ticket!), so I had a few pints then went to see Pirates of the Caribbean 4 – it was average. After a final night in the lovely Chumking Mansions, I boarded the ferry to the nearby island of Macau. Macau is an old Portuguese colony and is technically not part of China and many people still speak that language. That meant I was able to use my entire Portuguese vocabulary at every possible opportunity (obrigado – ‘thank you’; cerveja – ‘beer’). I hadn’t booked any accommodation in Macau, because I was sure that when I got off the ferry there would be a bevy of hawkers trying to sell me a cheap room for the night. This turned out not to be the case, so after some advise from the tourist information office, I got on the #3 bus into town, and preceded to wander aimlessly for 3 hours (yes, 3 hours!) hoping to find a cheap hotel. After a while, exhausted and dripping wet, I was literally stopping every Westerner I saw asking them where they were staying, but most people just come to Macau for a day trip and don’t spend the night. I was at my wits end. Eventually I spoke to a well-off Malaysian bloke, who organised his personal driver to come and pick me up (in a plush BMW) and take me to a cheap hotel. What a hero!!

Macau rage

I did a Macau walking tour, then headed back to Hong Kong the next day – checking back into Chumking Mansions. This was the night of the Champions League final, so I stayed up until kick-off (02:45 local time) and watched it in my local. I befriended an English lad named Steve and we watched the match together in an incredibly packed pub – I was obviously thrilled to see Man Utd taken to pieces by a team of such obvious superiority. Went to bed at 6am. The next day didn’t involve much – just a trip to the train station to purchase my next train ticket, then waiting for the Monaco Grand Prix to start. For dinner I finally sold-out and, for the first time on tour had a full blown Western meal; I felt that if I was going to do that, I needed to do it properly, so I had roast beef, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, carrots, sprouts, gravy and horseradish. Worth the 11 quid! I literally licked the plate clean.

Mouse and I had agreed that if he paid for half my travel, I would make the 2,500km journey back north to visit him in Tianjin, so early on that Tuesday morning I set off for Kowloon train station to catch the T98 train to Beijing, where I would connect for the short journey to Tianjin. I had some minor trouble getting through Customs – the photo in my passport, where I am a pasty 16 year old, confuses people who see the 25 year old bearded ‘vagrant’ in front of them. I smoothed things over with the Customs officials nicely though by accidently making them laugh: I dropped my bottle of water, and after bending down to pick it up with my huge backpack on, I realised I had no strength left in my legs and was unable to stand up. It was like my trekking fail all over again! After trying and failing for a while, I had to shed my backpack and ask for assistance. The journey itself took 24 hours and was relatively easy going. I couldn’t get much sleep though because the couple in the bed next to me decided to ‘get frisky’ in the middle of the night, which was rather off putting. To escape their moans and groans I ventured down to the restaurant car, which involved passing through First Class. It seemed quite empty, so after purchasing a ‘pijo’ and some noodles I went and sat there. No one questioned a Western person’s rite to be there, so I enjoyed the comfort of First Class for a few hours!

 24 hours to Beijing

I arrived in Beijing in the early afternoon, and after throwing a minor public strop (just like last time), I made my way back to the same hostel from a few weeks ago. I was meant to go on to Tianjin but was too tired, mardy and sweaty to tackle another Chinese train journey. So after some R&R I headed off the next day, catching the bullet train to Tianjin, where Mouse met me at the station. I ended up spending a week with him, sleeping on his sofa and basically having a great time. Our main activities were nights out, watching cricket, doing walking tours and eating. The food I had in Tianjin was incredible, and Mouse took me on a culinary tour of Asia: classic Chinese dishes, noodles, dumplings, Tianjin specialties, Sichuan dishes, Korean, Thai, Hong Kong, Japanese. All amazing! We had some fun nights with his fellow teachers as well. One night in with Dilly and Jordan playing cards, where we picked up the nicknames ‘Maestro’ and ‘Bistro’ (you can guess who was who); another night out on the massive smash with David, Mike and Gerald to the famous ‘Citong’ nightclub. I was on my standard drunk club form – hating the ear-splitting hip hop, minesweeping drinks, sitting on my own. Gerald bought us an entire table worth of Heineken though, so I tucked into that with gay abandon. Mouse pulled a midget (sort of).

 Leaving Citong at 6am

As you may know, Mouse is teaching English in Tianjin, and he invited me along to his weekly ‘free talk’ class. ‘Free talk’ is a much more informal class, where students are encouraged to speak and use their English in a more chilled-out setting. I opened things up with a short photo presentation of my travels so far, then Mouse set them the task of writing their own fictional travel diary which they would then present to the class later, and I would judge who was best. I meandered from group to group, chatting to them about various things and helping them with their English (I spoke to no men). It was really fun, and one of the highlights of my time in China – you really can’t beat speaking to Chinese people.

On one of my last nights, Mouse cooked up a brilliant dinner of pork ribs and pork belly in a delightful sauce, with a side dish of green peppers and bok choy. We settled in to watch the Test Match. Could there be a more brilliant night in? Sadly I eventually had to leave, and caught the 05:33 train to Qingdao (pronounced ‘Ching-dow’). I hadn’t had much sleep the night before, and half way through the journey I nodded off and toppled off my seat into the aisle. It was mightily embarrassing and I was the laughing stock of the carriage for the remainder of the journey. This was made even more embarrassing because I had been seriously ‘eye-flirting’ with a girl opposite me for a while. We had had a rather basic conversation in both English and Chinese and shared headphones for a while. I think my collapse ruined my chances. Qingdao seems nice enough, but I need to start thinking about heading south, so I immediately booked my transport onwards – a 41 hour, 2,600km train to Chengdu. The definition of ‘admin’?

 Mouse getting his cook on

I’m a little bit worried to see that I am 106 days into my 189 days travelling. However much I like England, my family and my friends, I really don’t ever want to come back. Can you all move to China please?

 Beard coming on nicely

Guilin to Yangshuo...then back to Guilin

Distance covered since last blog: 190km

For my final evening in Guilin I headed out alone to track down a local restaurant and really try out my Chinese speaking. My plan was to do the entire thing without saying a word of English, and without resorting to simply pointing vaguely at the menu. I strolled in confidently and immediately caused a stir (not helped by the fact that I was wearing my China basketball vest). I successfully said ‘Hello. One beer please’, which she understood. But when I tried ‘Fried noodles with meat’ she stared blankly back at me. When I tried again she had a total panic and went and got 3 other members of staff. Everyone else in the restaurant was looking over and laughing. I tried again with the new staff members but was no more successful. In the end I gave up and pointed to a photo of some different noodles that was on the wall. So my attempt to speak only in Chinese lasted for 4 words. Tough language. Good noodles though!

When I got back to my hostel I noticed that one of the two ‘smoking hot Swedish girls’ from the backwaters tour that Squad and I went on in Kerala was sitting in the bar. After procrastinating for about 20 minutes, I went over to her and thankfully she remembered me. Me, her (Ida) and her friend (Faye) spent a few hours chatting and agreed to travel together to Yangshuo together the next day.

Yangshuo

I was slightly more successful in dealing with Chinese people at the bus station the next morning, when I haggled our tickets down from 30Y each, to 18Y each (I didn’t use any Chinese though – just raised my voice and pointed at numbers on a calculator). Yangshuo’s kast mountains are some of the most stunning landscape in the world, so it was a pity that it was pouring with rain. There are lots of outdoor activities to get involved in such as rock-climbing, cycling, bamboo raft tours on the river etc. But unfortunately it rained for the next 5 days, so I was ‘forced’ to stay in the hostel and frequent the bar with all the other travellers. I stayed in a hostel called ‘Monkey Jane’s’ which Thomas had mentioned in his blog. It is famous for its lively fifth floor roof-top bar and party atmosphere – I can vouch for both!

Day 1：After getting a bowl of the brilliant local rice noodles (60p), I headed straight up to the bar to see what all the fuss was about. It was all pretty chilled out at first, so I settled in with a Canadian lad named Tyler and one of the bar girls to watch ‘Quantum of Solace’ (a tricky film to explain to someone who’s English isn’t great). When the bar started to fill up, Tyler and I teamed-up and started challenging people to ‘Beer Pong’. ‘Beer Pong’ basically involves having to throw ping-pong balls across a table into the other teams’ glasses – if they go in, they have to finish their beer. Tyler and I were tipsy and overconfident, and consequently lost our first 3 games. We came back to win the next 2 though! More and more people came into the bar and everyone was getting involved in the drinking games: English, Australian, Dutch, American, Norweigian, Danish, Swedish, Israeli, French, Russian, and of course all the gorgeous Chinese bar girls. At midnight we all piled out onto the town’s main street and hit a bar full of exciteable Chinese people. They love having foreigners around, and none of us paid for a drink all night – the bar manager just kept bringing us bucket after bucket filled with cans of Budweiser! It was amazing! After lots of comical dancing and arm-wrestling tournaments, I stumbled back to the hostel at 4am.

 Me and Tyler playing Beer Pong

Day 2: I rose at about 11 and rummaged around for my iPod charger. I couldn’t find it. And on closer inspection found that my English adaptor and my precious journal were also missing. I had been so excited when I saw Swedish Ida in the bar in Guilin I had forgotten to pick anything up from the table I had been sitting at. Damn! I just had to hope that Jason, the friendly hostel owner, would keep them safe for me until I returned. I headed up to the bar and found a few other bleary-eyed people from the night before watching a strange Chinese film with (terrible) English subtitles, so I joined them. After the film a Danish chap named Jeppe (or ‘The Bearded Dane’ as I called him) suggested we get the beers in. Frankly, I was horrified at the idea, but didn't want to disappoint him, so agreed. I struggled through my first few sips of my ‘Tsingtao’, but soon enough it was going down a treat – and I was ready for Beer Pong again! Tyler wasn’t around, so I partnered up with Lisa, the good-looking Chinese girl I had been checking out the night before. We went on a huge winning streak and were just one game away from winning coverted Monkey Jane t-shirts until I choked and missed the final cup. Someone introduced the bar to a new drinking game called ‘Flip Cup’ which is incredibly fun, rowdy and involves loads of people – which is perfect for big groups of people who don’t really know each other! We managed to get two teams of five together and played for an hour or so. I turned out to be a natural – Beer Pong and Flip Cup success in the same night! Once again we headed out to the bars and did very much the same as the night before. Beer Pong Lisa tried to kiss me, but I rejected her – I was keen, but thought I would keep her waiting. I knew I had her in the palm of my hand.

Rejecting Lisa

Day 3: Ida and Faye left in the morning, so I had the whole dorm to myself. I cooked up a tub of Roasted Beef Noodles and as usual headed up to the bar to watch the days films – ‘Dead Silence’, ‘Bruno’ and ‘Kick-Ass’. I also challenged the beautiful barmaid, Kathy, to some Connect 4. We ended up playing 17 consecutive games and I was soundly beaten. There was a little bit of Beer Pong played, but this was the night dominated by a huge, 7 vs 7, boys vs girls game of Flip Cup. Some bright spark decided to play with bigger cups and demand that the boys team play topless. Things got totally out of hand, and it was one of my favourite nights of the entire tour so far. I finally let Lisa get her way.

The Topless Flip Cup lads

Day 4: My body was really feeling the burn by this time, so I didn't really achieve anything on this day. In fact, I only properly surfaced at 5pm. Lisa and I went out for some dumplings then she headed back home to Guilin with the promise that I could go and stay with her when I return. Keen! It was more sedate in the bar on this evening. Well, the ‘Topless Flip Cup’ team got together for a reunion, but we called it a night at 1am.

Day 5: Checked-out and headed back to Guilin.

So that was a day-by-day run through of my time in Yangshuo! As you can tell, I had a total sight-seeing fail, yet had some of the most fun times I have had since leaving England!

I had emailed Lisa the day before, asking for her address, but I had no response by the time I got to Guilin so I checked back into the hostel from last time. Jason had kept all the things I had left behind and immediately presented them to me on my arrival. Legend! Shortly afterwards, Lisa did get back to me and I went round to her apartment for a home-cooked meal while we watched ‘The Devil Wears Prada’. Tomato and egg (sounds rubbish, but is actually really good), beef and peppers, pork and shredded potatoes, vegetables and rice. So she can play Beer Pong AND cook. She might be a keeper! Well, for three days anyway.

I have already done all my sight-seeing in Guilin, so during the day when Lisa is at work (as an English translator for the Chinese government) I just loaf about in the old hostel. They quite like me there and don’t seem to mind the fact I spend my whole time sitting there but not buying any of their expensive food. For that, Lisa meets me in her lunch hour and takes me to little hidden restaurants in the backstreets of Guilin that serve incredible Chinese food at nothing prices – 30p for a bowl of noodles.

We met after work yesterday and went out for some nooldes with a couple of her friends. They spoke good English so it was fun. Out with the girls! They insisted that we go to a KTV bar – KTV is what the Chinese call karaoke. I was initially nervous, but decided that the best way to tackle the nerves was to throw myself into it whole-heartedly, so I took on the opening song and did ‘Everything I Do’ by Bryan Adams. I gave it my all (including an air guitar solo), and before I knew it I was hooked! I did some Beatles, some Blue, some Queen, some Black Eyed Peas. You couldn’t get the microphone out of my hand! I even tried my hand at a Chinese song – which was appauling. Afterwards we hit a bar called ‘Joyce’s’ which was packed. I was the only Westerner in the whole place and was having drinks forced on me all night, so never once had to reach into my wallet. Perfect! My status as a sex symbol in China seems to be on the rise and I had to fend off a pretty blunt advance from one of Lisa's friends (it doesn't get much more blunt than "Please come home with me, not Lisa"). It was a great night out!

Out in Guilin

We have another DVD night planned for this evening, then tomorrow I leave for Shenzhen which is on the border with Hong Kong. The end of a beautiful relationship!

Xi'an to Guilin

Distance covered since last blog: 2900km

The overnight train from Xi’an to Shanghai was much more enjoyable than my first train experience in China because thankfully we had got tickets in ‘Hard Sleeper’ class, so we had a bed each. The journey passed without incident and we arrived into Shanghai at midday. My first impressions of Shanghai were positive: clean, friendly, and absolutely brimming with incredible Chinese totty. After calming myself down, we ventured into the subway and headed for ‘East Nanjing Road’ where our hostel was. We found it with little fuss, which was a relief after Mouse revealed he had thrown the directions away by accident.

We immediately set off on one of my trademark ‘Walking tours’. First stop was a stroll down ‘the Bund’, which is an area of colonial buildings on the riverfront, which offer a lovely view of the Pudong skyline. Unfortunately it was the May Day public holiday and half the city had decended upon the Bund, so a lot of my time was spent shuffling past dawdling Chinese people. Being someone who walks quickly, over-taking slow moving people is a constant problem for me in big cities. We popped into the frankly forgettable ‘Shanghai Natural History Museum’, then proceeded on to People’s Square in the heart of the city, and finally headed home along the famous Nanjing Road. It was absolutely packed with shoppers, and I struggled to keep my cool over-taking them all. I’m not sure what they were all shopping for though – every other building was either a McDonalds or a KFC. I didn’t care for Nanjing Road and was happy to be off it. That evening we found a little local place that was serving a dish Mouse highly recommended – la mien – which literally means ‘pulled noodles’. I loved it, and will be endevouring to find it everywhere I go in China. This also seems like an opportune moment to mention that I have been fully converted to chopsticks. At first I thought they were a stupid idea, but actually they work quite well and are pretty easy to master. We tracked down a bar and watched Arsenal beat Manchester United. The atmosphere of the evening was soured sadly after I mentioned that I quite liked Chelsea, which led Mouse to call me a glory supporter. After a few beers I didn't take it very well and sat seething for the last part of the match.

The next day was primarily based around food. For lunch we tracked down a place which was serving huǒ guō (or ‘hot pot’ for those not fully versed in Mandarin). It is basically like a Chinese version of a fondu, where you cook meat and vegetables in one of two choices of broth – one spicy, one mild. It was pretty nice, but I don’t think I’ll go back and have another. For dinner was another huge bowl of la mien with some pork kebabs. Much more my thing!

We decided to move away from Shanghai and spend a day in the nearby town of Suzhou, which is described as the ‘Venice of the East’ because it is picturesque and built on a series of canals. We caught the 335km/h ‘bullet train’, and were there in no time. After checking into our hostel, we found a little restaurant where Mouse’s Chinese really came into its own. He is very modest, and always tells people that he can’t really speak any, but when it comes down to it he is pretty good. He ordered us a banquet! A chicken dish, a pork dish, an aubergine dish, an egg and tomato dish, and of course loads of rice. We got quite a lot of very good natured banter from the staff, which added to the overall enjoyment of the meal. After our feast we rented a couple of bikes from the hostel and set off on my first ever ‘Cycling tour’ of a town. Thomas was in Suzhou about a month prior to me, and stayed in the same hostel. He also rented a bike, and by the sounds of it we may well have had exactly the same bike: “The wheels were tiny, it genuinely had no brakes and lacked the most important feature in China – a bell. Luxuries such as gears were well out of the question...” A bell is most certainly crucial - Mouse had hit a pedestrain within 10 metres of the hostel. Cycling round Suzhou was a fantastic way to see the city, and I was a big fan.

This was Mouse’s last night ‘on tour’ with me before returning to Tianjin, so naturally we had to make it a big night. First of all was another huge feed, which was set up by some more brilliant Chinese from Mouse – battered pork, pork ribs, spinach, shredded potatoes and plenty of rice. Then we headed out on the town. First port of call was ‘Backstreet Bar’ where we got chatting to a bunch of young Chinese people who all spoke decent English. Mouse gave a masterclass in flirting with Chinese girls, who were eating out the palm of his hand. I got stuck speaking to ‘Jimmy’ who was a huge British pop music fan – I humoured him and we did a short duet of ‘I Want You Back’ by Take That. Jimmy and the gang had to leave, but pointed us in the direction of what they called ‘Bar Street’. That sounded ideal, so we headed towards it. We went into a place called ‘Medusa Bar’ and were immediately set upon by a couple of Chinese girls. The girl chatting up Mouse was a bit of a rotter, but the one next to me was tip-top! I bought her a peach flavoured milk (her choice!), then proceeded to give her the full-blown ‘Flirty James Mogridge’ routine. Combine that with her fascination with my eyelashes, and the result was practically a no-brainer. A Chinese pull on debut! I’d only been in the country 9 days! In celebration I bought an Australian bloke a beer, sung ‘Paradise City’ by Guns n Roses with him for a bit, then retired to bed at 3am. A day to remember!

Feeling a little bit worse for wear in the morning, we went out for some incredibly tasty baozi (steamed dumplings), did a short walking tour of the areas where bikes are prohibited, then headed back to the station and caught to bullet train back to Shanghai. Suzhou – totally dominated in 24 hours! Mouse and I parted company that evening, and I spent the rest of the day reading my book in the hostel bar (after having nipped out for a quick bowl of la mien).

I didn’t really have a whole lot planned for my day alone in Shanghai. I decided to get the subway under the river to the Pudong district and do a little walking tour. It was a lovely day, so I went down to the riverfront and soaked up some sun. I haven’t shaved in about 6 weeks, and I’m slightly concerned that when I eventually do half my face will be sun-tanned and half won’t. On my walking tour I stopped in a couple of bars for some refreshment, and was annoyed that I no longer had Mouse to help me with my Mandarin. Therefore I set off on a hunt for a Chinese phrasebook to assist me. Chinese people love it when you make an effort to speak their language. I found a foreign language bookstore, got my phrasebook, and also bought a Lonely Planet guide to ‘Vietnam, Cambodia, Loas and Northern Thailand’. I was thrilled with my new purchases and used some of my Chinese on the bar staff.

The next morning I had an early train to Wuhan, so, having packed the night before, I was able to get up at 6am and slip out of my dormitory in the dark without waking anyone up. Little did I know at the time, I had left the plastic bag with all my Lonely Planet books next to my bed. £45 worth of books lost!

My train to Wuhan was another bullet train, and covered the 900km in about 5 hours. I never really planned to go to Wuhan, but as it was where Morts and Mouse lived for a year, I felt that I should swing by and have a look. Unfortunately the first thing that happened to me outside Wuchang train station was to be massively ripped off by a taxi driver. He charged me 100Y (£10) for a 15 minute journey. I was furious, but obviously haggling is difficult when you don’t speak Chinese (and have lost your precious new phrasebook). Upon arrival at my hostel, I was immediately invited to a BBQ they were hosting that night, which I thought was very friendly of them. As it turned out, there were 17 people at the BBQ – 16 Chinese people and me. Only one person spoke English, who I immediately latched on to. Obviously I was the centre of attention, which I didn’t really mind because everyone was so friendly - a girl said that I looked like a 'pop star', and a lad called me 'handsome'. Well, what can I say? I would have to agree on both counts! The food was pretty ropey (you try filleting a fish with chopsticks! Or eating a BBQ’d chicken heart!), but it was an enjoyable evening. Afterwards, Sophie (the English speaking Chinese girl) took me down to the banks of the Yangtze river to see Wuhan by night. It isn’t the most attractive city in the world to be honest, so the view wasn’t a classic.

The next day I set off on one of my trademark walking tours. Wuhan is by far the hottest place I have been so far, so I left the hostel early to try and miss the heat. This didn’t go to plan sadly, and by 10am it was already 30 degrees, my t-shirt was drenched, and beads of sweat were dripping from my nose. It was quite a nice walk nonetheless. For lunch Sophie bought me a Wuhan speciality, re gan mien, (hot-dry noodles), which were very tasty. In the late afternoon I headed off to find a bar Morts and Mouse had recommended as good for watching live sport called ‘Blue Sky Cafe’. I spent a good 45 minutes trying to hail a taxi, but failed miserably. Some local chap obviously saw this and offered to drive me there on the back of his motorbike. What a good lad! As it turned out, I went to a different bar called ‘Brussels Beer Garden’ owned by a Belgian lad who greeted me enthusiastically. There was also a gorgeous Chinese waitress, as well a midget chef! Why would I want to go anywhere else?! I stayed in there for almost 6 hours, watching the Turkish Grand Prix, as well as some football. Man Utd beat Chelsea and will now almost certainly win the Premier League. But obviously as a glory supporter, I don’t really care.

The following day I got a 13 hour train to Guilin. Guilin is a beautifully situated city amongst a stunning landscape of kast mountains. As usual, my plan was to embark upon a lengthy walking tour of the city. This lasted about 4 hours, during which time I managed to cover the main city centre as well as the charming lakes that the city is built around. I stopped for lunch in a Spanish cafe and sat outside. This turned out to be a big mistake, because during the time it took me to eat 4 spring rolls I was photoed 8 times. Sometimes just me, but other times a Chinese person would sit on the table next to me and pose. I smiled and waved for all of them!

The girls are just as stunning here as they are everywhere else in China. When eating my lunch, I was so mesmerised by a passing beauty in a tiny denim skirt that I forgot to close my mouth when taking a sip of my drink and poured a load of beer down my t-shirt.

I have recently edited my plans, and will now be staying in China for an extra month. It may or may not have anything to do with the girls.

Pokhara to Xi'an

Distance covered since last blog: 3,400km (mainly by plane)

First of all an explanation. My blog has been missing for a while because China, with their pesky internet block, don’t let me access the website. Then my previous post was deleted because I used ‘inappropriate language’. Then when I managed to negotiate around the internet block, my account was disabled because I was trying to access it from a weird location. Basically, it has been a bucket load of admin. But I’m back! My second explanation is that my camera is having a breakdown at the moment and is refusing to connect to computers, so there aren’t any photos in this blog. So get used to reading paragraphs of text. Right. Where was I? Pokhara in Nepal…

In the days following the failed trek, I relaxed in Pokhara and planned my next move. It was clear that getting to Tibet was going to be far too expensive, so I decided to fly from Kathmandu to Beijing instead, so I could meet up with Mouse. For those who don’t know, ‘Mouse’ is my mate who is teaching English at a school in China for a year. First of all I had to get to Kathmandu on a local bus. Like most of my long distance journeys, this was a nightmare from the start. I arrived at the bus terminal, only to find that my passport wasn’t in my pocket – cue a total panic, quick hailing of a taxi, a race back to the hotel, where it was still nowhere to be seen. Upon closer inspection I found it in the trousers I had been wearing the previous day. When I calmed down and got on the bus, I discovered to my horror I had the worst possible seat – on the back row, squeezed between an American girl and a French bloke, who were both really into yoga and insisted on discussing it at length. Seven hours later we arrived in Kathmandu.

 Kathmandu is pretty similar to most of the big Asian cities that I have visited – vast, hectic and a little bit smelly. In all honesty I wasn’t massively won over by it. I had my final ‘dhal bhat’ with a girl who funnily enough lived in Surbiton, and went to bed quite early. Unfortunately I was awoken in the night with a worrying rumble in my stomach, and had to make a mad dash to the toilet. This was one of about 15 visits I had to make to the (communal) bathroom that evening, made worse by the fact that I had no toilet paper so had to resort to using pages torn from my Nepal Lonely Planet book – not recommended. I was in a pretty bad way at 7am the next morning when my taxi arrived to take me to the airport. My journey to Beijing was comical and deserves its own paragraph:

Negotiating Kathmandu International Airport was surprisingly easy, and I settled down in the departure lounge with ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ and a packet of Ritz crackers. Soon enough a glance at the big screen informed me that my flight was delayed by two hours – this wouldn’t be a huge problem normally, but I had to make a connecting flight later in the day. When I got on the plane, I found myself in seat 1C. Business class! I put my concerns behind me and enjoyed my complimentary apple juice. For some odd reason the plane decided to land in Lhasa – the ‘capital’ city of Tibet. I was able to get off the plane and have a little wander around the airport. It was very strange. More like a military airbase than a civilian airport – there were fighter jets on the runway and most of the buildings were painted in camouflage paint. Pleasant as this this stop was, it was further delaying me. We left Lhasa promptly and continued on our way to Chengdu. We landed 50 minutes after my connecting flight to Beijing was scheduled to depart, so I had resigned myself to missing it. However, after collecting my bag I noticed that the CA1408 to Beijing hadn’t yet departed. I flew into action and legged it to the Air China information desk to see what they could do. I shamelessly barged my way to the front of the queue and began frantically waving my passport and flight details at the bemused woman. She tapped at her computer for a second, and printed me off a ticket, 6 minutes before the gate closed. I charged across the terminal to security, once again pushed to the front of the queue, and made it to gate C5 with seconds to spare. I was frankly disappointed to be sitting with the riff-raff in ‘Economy’ class, but at least I was on the plane. We then sat on the tarmac for two hours. We landed in Beijing at 01:45, and I found that my hostel was closed so I would need to find alternative accommodation for the night. I trekked it out to the airport hotel and parted company with 480Y for the night. I hadn’t got my head around the exchange rate at the time, so was unaware that I was spending £50 for a night in the brilliantly named ‘Beijing 100% Perfect Hotel’. I frankly didn’t care though, and 18 hours after leaving my hotel in Kathmandu, I was able to lie down.

The next day would be better though wouldn’t it? Surely! Of course it wasn’t. It took me three hours to find the hostel, using a combination of two taxis, two subway trains and an aimless wander through suburban Beijing. This all became too much for me, and eventually I had a childish strop in the street, threw my backpack to the pavement and sulked for a while. During my sulk I realised that I could quite easily call the hostel and ask them to explain to a taxi driver how to get me there. I did just that, and 3 minutes later was checking-in.

Beijing is a pretty cool city, and so vastly different to everywhere else I have been so far. It’s clean and has an easy to navigate subway system which makes getting from place to place incredibly simple. The language barrier I feared isn’t the problem I thought it was going to be, and lots of the signs are in English as well as Mandarin. My sight-seeing began in the famous Tiananmen Square which I got to at about 11am, which is prime time for huge groups of Chinese tourists being led about by women with megaphones. I didn’t find this too irritating though, and thoroughly enjoyed strolling around the largest city square in the world. I didn’t have long to sight-see before my train, and soon enough I was making my way to West Beijing Station for the T55 to Xi’an. The only tickets they had available were for ‘Hard Seater’ class, which turned out to be just as unpleasant as it sounds. Imagine being on the Leatherhead to London Waterloo train for 13 hours – then add hundreds of loud Chinese people.  It was a nightmare. At the time I drew up a comparison chart with Indian trains. This is exactly what I wrote:

India: the doors are left open; about ten times cheaper; you have control over the light/fan

China: fractionally better onboard food; marginally more comfortable; less people staring at me; no beggars

I arrived into Xi’an at 7am, and was greeted by Mouse at the train station. Xi’an (pronounced ‘she-an’) is one of my favourite places of the entire tour so far. It is a small city by Chinese standards, and in the days we were there we explored it extensively on foot and by bike. It isn’t a particularly attractive city, but it has a charm that I found irresistible. This may well have something to do with the ladies…

Ok. Let’s just get this out in the open – I have fallen massively in love with Chinese girls. It’s difficult to explain exactly why, but I’ll give it a go: petite, friendly, cute, helpful and totally naive as to how attractive they are walking around town in tiny shorts. And it seemed that all the best looking ones were working in our hostel. Sophie, Daisy, Betty, Linda, Pi Pi, Joanna, Ivy, Joyce…the list is endless! We pulled out our best flirting (Mouse sung at the receptionist in his best Chinese), and before we knew it we were hostel celebrities. I really don’t think they could have liked us more. Three of them got us leaving presents!

Leaving gorgeous Chinese girls alone for a moment, we did a day trip to the Terracotta Army. For those not in the know, the Terracotta Army are an estimated 8,000 individually crafted life-size figures of warriors, built 2000 years ago to ‘protect’ the grave of Emperor Qin Shi Huang. We boarded our tour bus at the hostel, and what got on with us? A smoking hot Chinese tour guide named Zsa Zsa, who took a particular liking to us – although much to my annoyance she took more of a liking to Mouse. I was slightly underwhelmed by the Terracotta Army to be honest. The individual warriors and the story that accompanies them is fascinating, but it was nowhere near as big as I was expecting. But I must admit I was slightly distracted from the Army by battling with Mouse for Zsa Zsa’s attention.

Back at the hostel we were continuing to be immensely popular. The next evening (the day of the Royal Wedding as it happens) we attended the weekly ‘dumpling party’, where you cook and eat your own Chinese dumplings with fellow guests/dumpling enthusiasts. Afterwards we headed down to the hostel bar with our new American mates for a few shandies. At about 1am we decided to make a move to bed, and on our way came across a girl who had clearly had one too many. Upon closer inspection we noticed that she had been sick in a large bowl full of turtles which the hostel keeps as pets. Over our time there we had grown quite attached to these turtles, so were horrified to see what had happened. We mobilised immediately. I took the turtles out and put them in a sink full of clean water, while Mouse took the bowl to the shower. We rinsed out the bowl, cleaned all the rocks, then returned to turtles to their home. A small crowd had formed by this time (one guy filmed the entire thing) and we were applauded as heroes when the job was done. The girl was sent to bed in disgrace.

We didn’t have much to do the next day, and basically spent it loafing around the hostel playing Yahtzee and chatting to the lovely staff. Our final act was to make a poster of a Union Jack, write ‘James and Phil on Tour 2011’, and get all the girls to sign it. It was put up in the bar – a permanent reminder of the greatest guests the ‘Shuyuan Youth Hostel’ ever had. That evening we bid a fond farewell to Xi’an, and boarded the overnight train to Shanghai.

The Himalayas - 1, James Mogridge - 0

Distance covered since last blog: 350km (by bus), 80km (on foot)

After a 13 hour bus journey from Varanasi, I arrived at the Nepal border at 6am. I have heard that the border is rather lax, and easy to cross - this is an understatement. I waved goodbye to India, and sauntered across the border without even being asked to show my passport. I had to actively track down the border officials to get my visa. Unfortunately I didn't have any cash, and the ATM didn't accept my card (as usual) - cue a helpful Nepali chap to appear over my shoulder and offer to take me to the neighbouring town which had more ATMs for me to try. So I jumped on the back of his motorbike, found a working ATM, withdrew 10,000 rupees, and was driven back to the border. A great start to Nepal, and a perfect example of the friendliness of the people.




Motorbike lift to the ATM

 It was a 7 hour bus journey to the city of Pokhara, which was a fantastic way to see the incredible landscape of Nepal as the bus wound its way through the mountains along perilously thin roads. In an act of true English chivalry I gave up my seat to a young girl who was very grateful - I didn't think this through however, and standing up on a bus that is constantly rounding hairpin bends is almost impossible. When a seat eventually freed up I made a dart for it, only to find that a child had been sick on the floor. I was exhausted so sat there anyway.

Pokhara is an incredible place. To come from the crazy streets of India, to this calm, relaxed town was quite a shock. When walking down the pavement (yes, Nepal has pavements!), I found myself questioning where all the tuk tuks, beggars and mounds of cow poo were. And it smells normal! And the people don't stare at me! As you might have guessed, I am a fan of Nepal and its people. I spent a couple of days chilling out in Pokhara, while I organised my 10 day trek into the mountains. I spent my final evening in Pokhara with a huge plate of vegetable noodles, watching Blackpool vs Arsenal which was a real treat (I'm so bored of cricket).

Sunset over Pokhara

My trekking experience started off bright and early at 8am. Things got off to a terrible start. I was under the impression that my guide would be carrying my huge backpack - this turned out not to be the case, so I had 5 minutes to frantically cram as much as I could into my woefully undersized other backpack. I forgot the following:
  - All my toiletries (except a deodorant)
  - Gloves
  - A towel
  - Water purification tablets (and indeed any other medication)
  - Anywhere near enough t-shirts, boxers or socks
Of course I managed to remember essentials such as both my iPods and my 900 page novel which took up half the bag. Putting this rough start behind me, I met up with my guide and we got on a local bus to the start of the trek (we sat on the roof which was fun - I didn't want to leave the Indian subcontinent without riding on the roof of some public transport at some point). My guide's name was Yam and he seemed like a decent lad.

We began trekking at about 10am, and by 10.30am I was coming to the realisation that I had maybe bitten off more than I could chew. In my 10 days, the plan is to hike up to the Annapurna base camp, which is 4,000m above sea-level. The trek started at 1,000m, and I was exhausted after climbing up the smallest of inclines. We walked for about 6 hours, and by the end I was a mess. We arrived at our accommodation for the night, and I was greeted by a smiling Nepali woman: 'Hello! How are you?'. 'F*****g  knackered' I responded with no smile on my face. Luckily she laughed her head off.

Many of you will know that I don't eat breakfast. I have no appetite in the mornings, so don't eat. Yam wasn't hearing of this though, and so forced me to eat something. On Day 2 I rashly ordered a cheese omlette. It was vile, and when he wasn't looking I stuffed it in my pocket. This set the tone for a really unpleasant day. After about 30 minutes of steady uphill trekking, we came to the bottom of a set of seemingly never ending steps - there were 4,500 of them. It took me two hours to get up them, and by the summit I looked like I had just stepped out of the shower I was so drenched in sweat. I remember thinking to myself as I climbed, 'I'm sure I'm meant to be enjoying myself - why am I hating every single second of this so much?'. Shortly after reaching the summit, I stepped in a fresh pile of buffalo s**t. It was one of the most depressing moments of my entire life - I was roasting hot, dripping wet, stinking of BO and manure, and I still had 9 and half days to go.

Day 3 was the pivotal day of the trek. Nice relaxing start? Nope! Up at 4.30am for a quick hour trek up the brilliantly named 'Poon Hill' to see the sunrise. I was feeling a little queezy when we started, and by the time I got to the top (3,210m) I was feeling properly unwell. I was sick after being there for about 3 minutes, the sunrise was hidden behind a huge bank of cloud, and the howling wind was making me freeze in my sweat drenched t-shirt. I trekked it back down the hill (my spirits were lifted slightly when a Japanese woman fell over in front of me) and sat in front of the fire in the guest house feeling sorry for myself. All I wanted to do was sit there all day, but no, I manned-up and we set off at about 9.30.

And I'm jolly pleased that we did, because the first half of this day was some of the most enjoyable trekking of the entire trip. It was pouring with rain, but that didn't concern me as we walked for hours along the ridge of a high peak. I was loving it.

At 'the peak'

 As was often the case however, my morale soon came tumbling down as my weak body started to give up. After 5 hours of walking, we reached the edge of a steep gorge. We had to trek down one side, then up the other - both sides having something in the region of 3,000 steps. Walking down one side totally exhausted my legs, then walking up the other side finished them off. If I had have been moving any slower on the climb up, I would have stopped. I was overtaken by an elderly man carrying a huge basket of bamboo on his back. It was humiliating. The '20 minute' climb took just short of an hour. I say that this day was 'pivotal' because the damage I did to my legs set me up for what happened the next day. The steps led to the village of Tarapani, and my word, what a view!

All my pains were forgotten, as I sat back with a cold bottle of 'Everest' beer and marveled at the sight in front of me for almost an hour. The sheer scale of these mountains is staggering, and any amount of trekking depression and leg pain is worth it.

This enthusiasm didn't last long however, and on Day 4, I threw in the towel and admitted that I wasn't going to be able to make it to base camp. My legs were in agony with every step I took, and even with my rather cool walking stick, I knew that making it to base camp was unrealistic. This was confirmed to me about 5 minutes later when my legs gave way and I collapsed on the trail. My legs had absolutely nothing left to give, and I couldn't stand up for a few minutes - it was a very odd feeling.  The mind was willing, but the body capitulated. I dragged my exhausted body the remaining hours to the village of Chhomrong, where I was granted a blessed 'rest day'.




The moment I 'threw in the towel'

 Incidentally, on the rest day I did my first laundry of the tour! 50 days after leaving England! I say 'laundry', but really all I did was dunk three t-shirts into a bucket and halfheartedly scrub them with a brush.
   
Now that the dream of getting to base camp had died a rather feeble death, we could take the days a lot slower. Getting up at a reasonable time, strolling for a couple of hours in the morning, stopping for a lunch beer or two, then getting to our lodge at about 3pm. I could relax and read my massive book over some lentil curry and some 'Raksi' (the local wine) - now this was more my sort of trekking! Nuts to base camp!

There are little stories from each of the remaining days:

On Day 6 we arrived at our lodge at the ridiculously early hour of 9.30am! I had barely had time to sweat through my t-shirt! There were some nearby hot springs to visit though, which I liked the sound of, and apparently they would help soothe my tired legs. I got down there and was immediately ordered to strip down to my boxers. The water was very pleasant and did indeed help to relax my legs. I couldn't relax too much though, because I had to spend most of the time making sure that 'Mogsy Junior' didn't flop out of my very loose fitting boxers.




Me and Yam in the hot springs

The evening of Day 7 saw the most incredible storm I have ever witnessed descend upon the valley. I could see menacing looking clouds rolling towards us, but the force that they hit with was incredible. We were 'safely' in the lodge by this time, which was a good thing because at 2,500m you are in amongst the clouds and the the lightning is striking around you. Not the mention the massive hail stones coming in from the side.

Once again, Day 8 saw us get to our destination rather early. I read for a few hours, then went for a nap. I was woken up at about 2pm by the sound of very well-spoken English girls. I lept off my bed, and went to check them out through a crack in my door - and what would you know, they were smoking hot! I had to get involved. I sorted out my hair, straightened my 'trekking beard' and opened my bedroom door. They all glanced up. I pretended not to see them, put on my coolest face, and walked towards them. I picked out the best looking of the bunch and fired her a smile and a nod - she responded in kind. I hadn't thought much further ahead than this though, so when I walked past them, I realised I was in a dead-end corridor. I panicked, pretended to read a non-existent leaflet on the wall, then scurried back to my room, red faced, passing all the girls. Needless to say, that was as far as my involvement with that lot went.

Day 9 saw me stationed in a lodge in the lovely village of Dhampus, with 68 20-23 year old Nepali private school girls on a trip from Kathmandu. Usually chatting to local girls is like shooting fish in a barrel (!!), but I was so shell-shocked by the previous days experiences, that I hid in my room and read a trashy girls novel that I had found called 'An Affair before Christmas'.

Day 10 was a simple stroll to the main road, and a bus back to Pokhara. So - thoughts on my trekking experience? It is quite clearly split in two parts. The first four days were some of the toughest things I have ever experienced, but even now, safely back in Pokhara, I know there was no way I could have continued on to base camp. What was I thinking!? I haven't exercised in years, or ever been trekking in my life! No wonder my legs packed it in! The remaining days were chilled out and much more my thing. I'm pleased I did it though - it was one hell of an experience, and something I won't ever forget!   

The final leg of the final day