Beijing to Shanghai

- Sorry about the odd spacing on this post, notepad and waarbenjij.nu are not good friends :( -

Hello hello everyone,

Some more warm greetings, this time from Shanghai! A lot has happened
since Beijing, so I apologize in advance for this ridiculously long post.

First things first, more photos:

Mongolia:
http://www3.snapfish.nl/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1242441010/a=1514103010_1514103010/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

Transsiberia Mongolia --> Beijing:
http://www3.snapfish.nl/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1242761010/a=1514103010_1514103010/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

Beijing:
http://www3.snapfish.nl/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1242919010/a=1514103010_1514103010/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

Qingdao & Mt Laoshan:
http://www3.snapfish.nl/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1243374010/a=1514103010_1514103010/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

Suzhou & Tongli:
http://www3.snapfish.nl/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1243482010/a=1514103010_1514103010/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

Shanghai:
http://www3.snapfish.nl/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1243486010/a=1514103010_1514103010/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/


From Beijing we took a train to Qingdao, a city mainly famous for its

beer-making (China's world famous Tsingtao beer, which is originally

German, comes from there) and its beaches. We took a night train, but

had soft seats because of the absence of hard sleepers. I think most of

us would agree that that choice could have been rethought. I didn't

sleep at all, ever trying to wrestle myself into something that

resembled a comfortable position, and the others only slept for a short

while. So in the morning we arrived extra groggy at Qingdao station,

and walked into the heat to our hostel.

We walked around Qingdao, and saw its famous beaches, which were jam-

packed with Chinese tourists. The water was an unnatural green colour

and it didn't look like a place I would especially like to swim. So we

skipped the beach and instead tasted the local beer, which is sold for

20 cents per half a liter, and comes in a plastic bag rather than a

glass or cup. We hadn't quite prepared for this fact, so Erwin and I

bought a plastic seaside bucket for another 20 cents from which we

consumed the local delicacy.

We ate at one of Qingdao's many fish restaurants. Almost every

restaurant has big boxes outside its doors with fish in them trying to

struggle their way free. Jet, Mike, and Loes are all not big fan of

whole fish, much less still living ones, so we tried to order a meal

that would be suitable both for the fish lovers and the squeamish. I

thought it was lovely but I'm not sure everyone agreed.

The next day, we visited Qingdao's beer street, where Tsingtao's

brewery is located. This time we ate at a restaurant where the fishy

chaos was perhaps worse than anywhere we had visited before, and Jet

was especially shocked by some roasted chicks. Again, not everyone

enjoyed their meal as much as the less choosy among us, but I thought

this way of eating fish was quite brilliant. All the fish was

superfresh and tasted great.

Every night we struggled with our air conditioning, which would either

turn the room freezing cold (Anne was the only brave one among us,

claiming she hadn't noticed the icy cold temperature), or, when turned

off, would leave us all sweating buckets. There seemed to be a setting

in the middle, but it was accompanied by a host of strange beeps, and

none of us felt like sleeping with a sound that reminded me of a bomb

about to go off in a James Bond movie.

The rest of our time in Qingdao was spent walking around and enjoying

some local parks. After two days, Anne, Jet, Mike, and Loes left to

climb Tai Shan mountain, which was a few hours away by train, and they

left me and Erwin behind for another day in Qingdao. We decided to

climb nearby mount Laoshan, a Taoist mountain which is nowadays mainly

used for tourist purposes; Chinese tourists visit the mountain in

hordes for a day trip to this beautiful scenic area.

We climbed the mountain and were initially quite annoyed at the massive

amount of tourists that we were following like a herd of sheep up the

mountain. Tourist stalls lined the stairs that climbed the mountain,

and there were no views to speak of, except that of tourists making

photos of each other. Luckily, after the first few scenic points (a

dam, a waterfall), most of the tourists seemed to have given up the

climb, and we were able to go up the mountain in a more quiet and

relaxed fashion. There were some beautiful views, and we visited a few

small temples which were largely ignored by the other tourists. Stalls

still lined the stairs, but seemed ignored by most tourists. We sat and

had tea at a point overlooking the valley below and the coast at its

edge. It was perfectly rustic and beautiful.

When we had reached the top and made our way back down, we found a path

that seemed unused. The stairs were crumbling, and from time to time

mountain streams would cross the path. This was clearly the path for

us. Away from any other tourists, we climbed down the mountain until we

came to a small tea field overlooking a village at the coast. A lovely

Chinese woman invited us over for some local tea, and we sat and

enjoyed the view and the rain slowly drizzling onto the plastic sheet

covering our heads. We told the tea lady as best we could about our

impending studies at Xiamen University, where we were from, and what

exactly it was we were doing on this mountain. Still, even our with our

brilliant knowledge of the Chinese language we didn't manage to

understand a lot of what she said, and we passed the time mainly in

silence. At every sip we took of our tea, the Chinese lady immediately

refilled our cup, and clearly the only way to break off this process

was to buy her tea and continue our walk down the mountain. As we

reached the village on the coast, the rain really started pouring down.

Of course, Erwin was fully prepared with his rain jacket and waterproof

shoes, but I was quickly drenched. We looked for a garbage bag to cut

holes into and make into a poncho, but none were forthcoming. So we

hopped onto a tourist bus and made our way back, very slowly, to

Qingdao.

Erwin left early the next day and I spent my time looking where in

God's name my bus to Suzhou would leave from. I boarded the bus in the

afternoon, and took my place on a cramped but fairly comfortable bunk

bed. I thought the bus was pretty packed, but I was clearly mistaken.

About 5 minutes after we left, we stopped on a muddy carpark and about

a dozen more people entered the bus, who all laid down in the aisle. We

stopped every now and then, and people, who didn't get on the bus

themselves, mysteriously moved packages on and off the bus. I still

have no idea what was in them, and whose these packages were, seeing as

no-one seemed to be travelling with them. Still, it gave me food for

thought as I sat and stared out of the window, listening to Simon &

Garfunkel's entire oeuvre in one fell swoop. I didn't sleep much, and

was relieved to arrive in Suzhou.

When I say I arrived in Suzhou, I mean we stopped at a random

intersection at 4.30am, and we were dropped. There was no bus station,

no place to queue up for taxis. So I stood there on the middle of this

intersection with my backpack, as hordes of people swarmed around me

offering their taxi services. These weren't taxi drivers - they were

just people who had clearly just returned from the pub, having had one

pint too many, and wanted to earn some easy cash by dropping off a

stupid tourist at their hostel. Luckily I found a proper cab, and after

some searching for the right place was dropped off in the middle of

this strange city.

I dropped my luggage at the hostel, and had two hours to kill before I

could check in. I walked past Suzhou's canals as locals were waking up,

walking their dog, or visiting the local fruit stand. It reminded me of

Utrecht; the dirty canals, the people passing on their bicycles. I took

a while to get used to travelling alone; it was in these first hours

alone that I decided I would visit Shanghai anyway. Suzhou is a lovely

place, but there is very little to do and I longed for a city with some

activity.

Suzhou is well known for its gardens, and I visited a nearby one to see

what all the fuss was about. It was too busy for my taste; I had

expected a park-like area where I could quietly sit and read my book,

but instead I was confronted with more hordes of tourists, and there

was not much garden to speak of. The buildings here seemed to be the

main attraction, but I longed for some grass to lay down on and relax

after a short night's sleep.

So I left the garden and walked through Suzhou. I came across some

great places. One street was filled with dozens upon dozens of garages

where locals went to fix their electric scooters, which drove through

the city's streets in great numbers. There were some small streets that

were built in a traditional Chinese style and I walked along Suzhou's

pretty canals, away from the tourist masses. Then I came across a park

that was more like what I had imagined when I thought of Suzhou's

gardens, and laid down on a big rock next to a large pond. Finally, I

had found what I had come here for.

After having relaxed a while, Suzhou really turned out to be quite a

nice place. Its main shopping street was very Western, but it was

charming nonetheless. At night I went to see the new Disney/Pixar movie

'Up!' in the cinema. I heartily recommend you all go see it: it was

absolutely brilliant.

The next day I rented a bike and planned on riding a circle which was

indicated on my tourist map. The caption below the circle read:

'It is a crazy plan for you because nobody can finish the circle. Now

you can follow the marked pink line. It's over 60KM. Of course you will

feel good when riding in the water town. Good luck to you.'

This sounded like the kind of thing that was suited to me. I was

convinced I would be the first soul to finish this damn circle, and I

looked forward to driving through the small water villages surrounding

Suzhou.

I took off and got lost several times in the first hour I was riding this ridiculously tiny bicycle. Perhaps this was why people didn't finish the circle. Still, I soldiered on through the mental traffic. The city's many bicycles and scooters swarmed around me and seemed dedicated to doing the opposite of what traffic laws wanted them to do. Perhaps no-one finished the circle because they all died in a bloody traffic accident, I thought.

I finally managed to find my way and continued along endless, six-lane roads past industrial complexes. It wasn't exactly a picturesque route. It was 10am and I was burning up. The sun beat down on me, burning my skin even though I had been sunscreen-free for four weeks without problems. I cursed myself for choosing this ridiculous mode of transport, as air-conditioned buses drove by taking lazy (sensible) tourists to the very same destination I was heading for. After nearly three hours I finally reached the first village on my itinerary: Tongli.

Tongli is a rather touristic village, but it's clear why: it's absolutely gorgeous. It was like the pretty parts of Suzhou, but without its big-city vibe and looming skyscrapers. I had lunch at a small restaurant overlooking the canal. Wooden boats, paddled by hand, passed by carrying tourists or delivering goods to the shops and restaurants facing the canal. I was very comfortable and greatly enjoyed myself, but I had a job to do: I was going to finish this damn circle. As I walked to my bike, I grabbed my map and studied where I was supposed to be going. As I unfolded it, I cursed out loud. I was about a quarter of the way in, and there was no way I was finishing this circle before dark. I had found the reason why no-one finished this circle: when the map said it was 'over 60 km', it hadn't been incorrect, but merely vague. This route was at least 100 kilometers long, and with the sun giving me more of a tan than I was looking for, I decided that the map had won; I would head back to Suzhou. So I hopped on my bike and lazily made my way back to Suzhou, trying to stay in the shade. As I reached the city, the bike's chain had a bit of a hiccup and decided to drop off. I quickly fixed it, but every time I turned around the bike to drive on, the chain would drop off again. The third time was a charm, and with disgusting hands I finally completed the day's bike ride. While it wasn't what I had expected, I had still kind of enjoyed myself. It felt good to ride a bike, staying true to my Dutch roots, and I allowed myself to lounge away the night with a book.

The next day I made my way to Shanghai, taking a delightful high speed train in which I would have quite happily spent the whole day. After I overcame the first shock at the relative expensiveness of Shanghai (40 cents for a subway ride? That's twice as much as Beijing!!), I really started to like it. Shanghai is probably the most modern place I have ever been to, with its endless array of skyscrapers and busy streets. Still, it had a nice atmosphere to it. In its very centre is People's Square and People's Park, a lovely green area in the middle of the hectic city. It's a great place to go to relax and take a break from the city's crushing masses.

I was approached by two young girls while I strode down the centre. They spoke good English and asked me where I was from. I immediately assumed they were scammers who wanted to take me to some teahouse and shake me down for a ridiculous amount of money. I had been warned of these people in Beijing, and had heard that Shanghai was full of them too. Still, we got to talking and they told me they were from Qingdao, where they studied English. My faith in them was restored. We chatted away happily until they said they had a friend who had told them about a great teahouse. At once, my faith in humanity was shattered once more. I ditched them on a street corner and cursed myself for being so naive as to think that these were genuinely nice people who just wanted to have a chat and practice their English.

Later, as I was staring at my map to find out where I was, a man approached me and helped me figure out where I was. Just as I expected him to tell me about some amazing tea house, he asked me: 'Do you have MSN?' It was the sweetest question he could have asked, and this random man restored my faith in the people of Shanghai.

Later, when I was sitting down in the People's Park, a man ran up to me and introduced himself as an English professor at the Shanghai business university. He asked me where I was from, and when I told him I was Dutch he immediately started naming everything he knew was Dutch: 'Ah, yes... Philips is Dutch. Is world famous, yes. Heineken is also Dutch, you have some very famous drinks, yes. You also have some world famous artists, yes?' He continued in this fashion for quite a while until another man walked by and recognized the professor. I could hear from his accent that he was Dutch as well, and when he asked me where I was from I said: 'From Holland.' He replied: 'Dan moet je Nederland zeggen!' He was from Tilburg and spent a large part of every year in Shanghai teaching (admittedly not great) English to young children. As we spoke in Dutch, the professor was still nodding along, saying 'Yes.. yes..' The Tilburgian man asked him if he understood what we were saying. The professor replied: 'Sometimes I just make it up.'

Cheered up by this brilliant conversation, I happily walked on and explored Shanghai. In my few days here, I went to a few museums, none of which were particularly worth mentioning, and admired the different architectural styles of Shanghai. Highlight was Shanghai's Old Town. Partly, it is simply a touristic centre, built recently in old-fashioned style. However, hidden away are some small alleys where Shanghainese still live. These cramped alleys are very cosy and made for a great walk, off the tourist path. Laundry and potted plants hung suspended from the electricity cables that cross the street everywhere. People were cooking, chatting, going about their daily business. It was my favourite part of Shanghai.

On my second day in Beijing, as I was walking toward the Shanghai museum, my friend the professor (from now on Mental Professor) found me once again, and started his familiar riddle of 'Heineken, Philips. Famour Dutch footballers too, yes?' At every mention of these generic Dutch brand names I found it harder not to burst out laughing, and I was happy when we had arrived at the museum, where I was frankly glad to get rid of him.

As I sat in the park later on, I saw the Mental Professor strolling past again with his characteristic briefcase, and quickly hid behind my newspaper, afraid he would once again pester me with his few conversation topics. The Chinese are truly very friendly and well-meaning, but they can keep repeating the same thing over and over until you are sick and tired of it.

I spent my last day in Shanghai in the company of Jet, who was also spending her last day here, and we strolled around and chatted about what each of us had been doing. It was nice to catch up again, and I can't wait to hear everyone's stories in Xiamen. Tomorrow I am leaving for Hangzhou, a city south of Shanghai. I don't know if there is anything to do there, but if not, it's located near a lake where I might just park my lazy arse for a few days. For now, goodbye from lovely Shanghai.

Jeroen