China! Day 4

Day 4

We're up with the sun again at 6am. The train arrives in rainy Shanghai at 7:30am and we get a cab to the hotel. The concierge brings out our stored luggage and heads for the front door. Jim stops him: "Actually, we're checking back in. It's kind of unusual." At this point, there hasn't been a shower, change of clothes, or a real meal in 48 hours. Before we even go to our room, we each eat about 3 servings of breakfast. Hands down, we're the most disgusting people in the hotel. By 9:30am, I am stuffed and crawling into a comfy bed. Jim is going to the gym (crazy, I know). The nap feels great, but it does nothing to regulate my sleeping patterns. We leave the hotel and officially start the day around noonish.

We visited the Yuyuan Gardens and Bazaar, which looks like "traditional" China with pagado buildings, but I've read that it's more like a Disneyland version of China. Then we discovered an interesting place near the hotel, known only as 580 Nanjing Road. You wouldn't know what it is from the outside, but you're in a different world when you step inside. It has floor after floor and aisle after aisle of tiny shops selling knock-off goods. Think about the stands that sell fakes in NYC and then multiply this by about 1000. None of the "stores" have names - they're known only as 122/6F or 139/B2. It's like a maze. The stores all seem teeny-tiny, but then someone opens up a secret crawl space or leads you through a passagway of halls and halls of even more fake stuff. All negotiating is done by calculator. The salespeople grab your arm, block your way, chase you... anything to make a sale. I'm addressed only as "pretty girl want a bag?" and Jim is apparently a man in desperate need of a Rolex. The shoppers look completely worn out.

We then attempted to go out, but our timing/clocks are still off, and we're way too early to be "out" on a Saturday night. We went to Tongren Rd, another area in Shanghai known for nightlife. It was pretty empty and a lot of places weren't open yet. A woman assured us a particular bar was open and led us up an elevator. We were the only 2 people there, and the preponderance of poles suggested it may have been a house of ill repute. Jim wouldn't let us stay long enough to officially confirm this suspicion. We went to one other place on Tongren Rd and then went back to the Xintiandi area, which was much easier to find the second time around!

China! Day 3

Day 3

As I said, our guide Sunny was waiting for us at the train station. Knowing we were on the train all night, she led us to KFC for what she, god bless her, thought was a traditional American breakfast. China's KFC has none of the same options as America's KFC. It was insanely crowded. We ordered the last available chicken sandwich, an egg sandwich, and 2 coffees. The coffees were scalding hot and the sandwiches were slathered in mayo. Yum.

I thought I'd be able to make a quick change in the bathroom - new clothes, brush my teeth, splash some water on my face). Those tasks sound simple enough, but they were impossible to accomplish because everyone else in Beijing had the same idea. There are only 2 stalls in the women's' room and no semblance of a line. There are only 2 sinks for both men and women to share. There was a huge crowd around the sinks, including a man shaving his face. It seems perfectly acceptable to clear your throat and hock a loogie into the crowd. I'm obviously the outsider for being squeamish about this. I finally go back to our table. Jim reports that the men's room was so crowded that he didn't have the arm room required to change his shirt.

By this time, my coffee has cooled down, but someone has thrown my lid away and demands we get the day started. I take it to go, but quickly spill it all over my coat. Sunny comes to the rescue by reaching into her purse and pulling out a few squares of toilet paper I can use to clean up. Women in China are smart to carry their own supplies because you never know when you're going to run into a squatter toilet. The toilets aren't awful, but they often lack paper and the user must have a good sense of balance. It takes a little bit of maneuvering, especially on a day in which you have no extra clothing. Peeing on your pants will sentence you to a full day of walking around in pee-soaked pants.

With all this administrative business out of the way, we see what Beijing has to offer. I'm certainly no expert, but Beijing seemed more like "real" China and I enjoyed it much more than Shanghai. It has all the landmarks that come to mind when you think about China - Tiananmen Square, Imperial Palace, Great Wall...

Tiananmen Square and the Imperial Palace were unbelievably huge and you could easily spend a whole day exploring this place. The history is very interesting and I can't get over how old everything is. I think New Zealand was still under the ocean when this place was built. It seemed very crowded to me, but Sunny described it as a quiet morning. There were tons of Chinese tourists (think about Americans visiting DC). If you arrive on a tour bus, you have to wear a hat that matches the color of the flag your guide is carrying. Individualistic Americans would never do this.

By far, my favorite part of the day (and probably the whole trip) was our visit to the Great Wall of China. It's an amazing thing to see; someplace I never thought I would be. I thought it was packed wall-to-wall (pun intended), but Sunny again says it is not that crowded. Parts of the wall are very steep and it seems like your body is bent at a 45 degree angle. This is very trippy and disorienting when you're sleep-deprived. It was a hazy day, but it was still awesome to see the wall stretching into the hills as far as the eye can see. Jim and I both thought we were there for a decent amount of time - walking, admiring, etc. Sunny later says we spent the shortest amount of time at the wall than any of her other tours. Silly Americans.

We rounded out the day by visiting Olympic Park (huge), watching an acrobat show (I believe they performed at the opening ceremonies), and strolling along the Hou Hai Lake and Market area. We also walked through some back alleys with traditional Chinese homes. I notice that the tires of many parked cars were covered with squares of wood or corrugated metal (New Zealand's favorite building material). The explanation is that the covers protect the tires from dog pee. Go figure.

At Hou Hai Market, Sunny ran off to buy us a mystery snack. It looked like meatballs on a stick. Jim gets points for bravely taking the first bite. I get points for finishing the whole thing. It was a skewer of candied plums.

At 9pm (14 hours after our arrival), we are back at the Beijing Railway Station for an overnight ride back to Shanghai. Hard core! The station is packed and the atmosphere is kind of crazy. Hundreds of people rush to the platform when a train is called, yet there are still no empty seats in the waiting room. I can't figure this out.

On this leg of our journey, our roommates are much more quiet (climb right up to their top bunks) and the pillows are much less comfortable. This is a shame because I could really use a nice bed by this point. Jim fell asleep before the train pulled out of the station. I didn't know what my bunkmates were doing and didn't know how to communicate with them, so I left the light on in our cabin. It felt like only a few seconds later when I lift the sweater off my head to discover the lights are off. Jim later tells me he turned them off at midnight, so I must have got a few hours of shut-eye after all.

China! Day 2

Day 2

The next thing we know (literally), it is the morning of Day 2 and we have to wake up at what feels like a very early hour (even though) it's not that early to meet a tour guide and see all that Shanghai has to offer. I've been in 3 times zones in 3 days. Jim took a 14-hour flight that completely reversed his AM and PM. We were at the bars the night before. Add that all together and it becomes a Herculean effort to endure a day-long tour of Shanghai.

When we arrive back at the hotel at 4:30pm, we decide to take a nap. I knew it wasn't a great idea, but I just. couldn't. keep. my. eyes. open. I called the front desk for a 7:30pm wake-up call. "Yes, PM," I confirmed for the confused receptionist. We woke up refreshed and packed a small backpack for our overnight train ride to Beijing. We put the rest of our luggage in storage at the hotel. After last night's Xintiandi mix-up, we asked 3 different people to confirm that our train left from Shanghai's north station.

We arrived to find the train station jam-packed at 9pm. Before boarding, we had just enough time to wander through the shops to get dinner. The only food we could identify was a pack of crackers and a canister of potato chips. We chose the chips and bottled water. A well-balance meal.

People rushed the platform when the train was called. There is no such thing as a line. We joined the crowd and located our sleeper car. It had 2 sets of bunks separated by about a foot and a half. We had the bottom bunks, which means that you have to let your upstairs neighbor use it as a couch until he is ready to go to sleep. Our roommates were 2 Chinese men - one maybe in his 30s and one maybe in his 60s. The younger guy was friendly, spoke passable English, and asked lots of question. He asks Jim, "Is that your girlfriend?" (I'm sitting a foot and a half away). "No, my cousin." The guy doesn't seem to understand that word so Jim says "sister." He responds, "Your sister is very beautiful." Jim later explains, "I think that guy was drunk." Thanks. I decide it is better to sleep fully clothed than to change into the pajamas I've packed.

But of course I use that term loosely since we were wide awake after a 3-hour nap in the middle of the day. "Sleep" basically means "lay in the dark." Around 6am, I'm roused out of my couch/bed by sunlight filtering in in the window and the sound of crunching potato chips.

We pull into the Beijing Railway Station around 7am to find our tour guide waiting for us at the platform. Sweet as.

China! Day 1

Day 1

I arrived in an empty Shanghai airport at about 4pm on April 1. I had a little trouble locating an ATM, then I discovered that I should have been looking for a "cash converter machine." With a pocket full of yuan (Chinese currency) and my hotel name printed in Chinese, I hopped in a cab for the 1-hour drive into the city. We passed through lots of congested (and seemingly poor) old towns. There are huge rundown apartment buildings. Clothes are hung out to dry on poles sticking out of windows on the 30th floor of buildings covered in bamboo scaffolding. There are lots of bikes and motor scooters weaving in and out of traffic. Two separate times, I witness men peeing along the side of the road.

Shanghai and it's a different story. The city has some older more tradional sections, but, for the most part, it is very modern and cosmopolitan. It's the financial capital of China, maybe all of Asia. There are odd-shaped skyscrapers for as far as the eye can see, most of which sprang up in the last 20 years. You'd be forgiven for thinking you were looking at the Manhattan skyline.

I met my cousin Jim at the hotel and we hit the town. After a stroll along the Bund (boardwalk-type area along the Huangpu River), we decide to go to Xintiandi, which has a lot of the city's nightlife. We show the cab driver a card with Xintiandi written in Chinese and we repeat back and forth to each other "Xintiandi" (or at least that's what I thought we did). The driver drops us off in front of a huge 12-story department store close to our hotel. We go in and wander through the different levels, searching for the elusive Xintiandi. But we only see more department stores. "Maybe this is it," I say. Jim looks at me incredulously: "You think this is a bar?"

We got in another cab, which delivered us to the real Xintiandi. This is a relatively new area with posh bars and restaurants filled mostly with expats. It wasn't exactly what we were expecting, but after all that effort to find it, we certainly had to stay and test it out!

En Route to China

Here we go! On the afternoon of March 31, I settled in my middle seat on the plane for a cozy 12 hour flight from Auckland to Bangkok, where I had an overnight layover before continuing on to China the next day. I watched a movie and then realized we still hadn't reached Australia. I watched another movie, and we were still flying over Australia. It was going to be a looong trip, but I had plenty of books and in-flight entertainment options to keep me entertained. Guess which episode of 30 Rock was playing on the Thai Airways flight? That's right - Rural Juror! What a coinkydink since I recently blogged about that tongue twister.

(Random note about Thai Airways - they are very, very colorful. The flight attendants wear bright purple suits with magenta blouses. The plane seats are purple, magenta and gold. All travelers receive an orchid corsage before disembarking the plane.)

I expected my arrival in Bangkok to be a hassle, but I was wrong. Since my itinerary included an overnight layover, the airline put me up in a hotel. The hotel voucher was a photocopy of a photocopy, so I honestly expected that I would end up sleeping in the airport. O ye of little faith! To my great surprise, a shuttle van was waiting to take me to a very plush hotel next to the airport. It had one of those awesome swimming pools with fountains and a swim-up bar. Upon entering my room, I flipped the light switches, but nothing happened. I felt my way through the dark to the bed. The light switches there didn't work either. Hmm? I felt my way through the dark again to the front door and propped it open to use the light from the hallway. Then I saw that there is a slot in the wall by the doorway. Apparently, you have to insert your key-card in the slot to activate the electricity. You would think the front desk would have mentioned that...


I was back in the Bangkok airport by 9am the next morning for my flight to Shanghai. I was the first person at the gate, but I was soon surrounded by elderly Chinese people who seemed to be shouting over me. They were all drinking from reusable water bottles, and I wondered if they filled them up with dirty Bangkok tap water. I am extremely nervous about developing a GI issue from the food/drink in Asia. I have read about a phenomenon know as "Bangkok Belly" and I am trying to avoid it at all costs. Along with my passport and money, I never leave home without immodium.

Orient Express

I recently met an American and we got to talking about our respective Kiwi exploits. In describing my n-n-n-nevis bungy jump, I told him that I leaped from a purpose-built platform suspended 134m above a river. Despite my American accent, he questioned my nationality for some reason. Later in the evening, he said:

Him: Now I know why I didn't think you were American. You said the bungy platform was "purpose-built." Americans don't say that.
Me: Huh? Really? I meant that the platform is there solely for jumping.
Him: Yeah, but you wouldn't say that at home.

I recounted the conversation for Dawn and she agreed with our new American friend. She asked: "Don't you remember when we rented our apartment and the landlady described the building as being 'purpose-built'? You thought it was ridiculous." No, I don't remember that, but it got me thinking.

Purpose-built. Hmm, what does that mean? It does sound kind of silly. Isn't everything built for a purpose? Or are some new structures erected for no reason at all? Do some people just string up platforms and wait for a use to come along? Purpose-built... it IS a ridiculous Kiwi phrase! And I incorporated it into my vocabulary without even realising (oops, realiZing) it. SOS!

The moral of the story is... I've been in New Zealand way too long. It's time for a vacation! Don't hate me because I'm unemployed :)

On March 31, I'm leaving the Land of the Long White Cloud to spend about a week in China followed by 4 weeks in Thailand. I'm bracing myself for a shock because I'll be visiting cities that have triple and quadruple the population of the whole country of NZ. But I'm excited for a change of scenery, and I'm equally excited to pick up some traveling pals! Despite my predictions that this blog would be a boon to NZ's tourism industry, I have not convinced a single reader to visit me here (sniffle). Asia must hold more allure because I'm meeting 2 cousin companions along the way.

Check back soon! I hear internet cafes are almost as prevalent as mosquitos in Thailand, so I expect N to the ZED to be in full swing during the Asian adventure.

Adios, New Zealand, until we meet again in May.

Back to the Beginning

I have been up, down and all around New Zealand over the past 8 months. "From Cape Reinga to Bluff" as the saying goes, though not necessarily in that order. I'm now back where it all began: Auckland, the city of sails.

When I arrived here in July, it rained... and rained... and rained. It was less than welcoming and I questioned my sanity in coming here. Happily, I've discovered that Auckland is much more pleasant in March. The sun in shining and I can walk through the streets with my hood down and my head up.

Even in these ideal conditions, Auckland is not my favorite place. It is small by world standards, but very big by NZ standards. A quarter of the country's population, many of them foreigners, live here. It lacks the personality of its little sister Wellington; the Kiwi kindness is missing; and there's not a sheep in sight! This isn't the New Zealand I've come to know and love.

I've always considered myself a city girl, but I've really enjoyed my time in the Kiwi countryside. The scenery is breathtaking, and you can lose yourself in the views. The roads are open; the beaches are bare; the livestock is plenty. Whether it be sleeping in a tent under the stars, standing in the face of a majestic mountain, or pushing yourself to climb said mountain - there's a lot of quiet time to spend with... yourself. These sweeping landscapes have a way of making you feel very small and putting life in perspective. It's been a healthy change of pace for me. I would never had said these hokey things a year ago, but I've managed to surprise myself.

I don't know that I'd want to live out the rest of my days like this, but I've grown to appreciate a slower, simpler way of life. I've joked about NZ's, shall we say "differences," but I've also secretly come to enjoy them. (Shh... don't tell anyone.) It's all part of the Kiwi charm.

The challenge, of course, is to retain this perspective and hold on to these moments long after they've passed. I'm still in Auckland and I already feel very far-removed from the "real" New Zealand. There are legitimate highways here and even - gasp - a toll road, the nation's one and only. Check it out at www.tollroad.govt.nz. You have to visit the website after your trip to pay the $2 toll. How annoying is that? Even more annoying is the cash payment option, which requires you to pull off the road, park your car, and walk into a gas station to hand over your $2 gold coin. Ugh. Okay, so maybe Auckland has a little bit of that Kiwi "charm" after all...

Trading a Lemon for Lollies

Our Honda Integra (white with a purple and teal stripe... very 1990) gave us a good 6 months and almost 10,000km. She will always be remembered as an integral player in our great Kiwi summer road trip. Among her endearing quirks:

• The automatic locks don't work. The passenger door often unlocks when you lock the driver's door. Sometimes both doors unlock on their own.
• The car doesn't like hills, which is a problem in hilly NZ.
• It leaks. When starting the car after a big rain, the driver and passenger get a slosh of water on their feet.
• The boot (trunk) doesn't stay open, so you have to prop it up with your head.
• The limp antenna was dangling off the car until it finally fell off.
  

Approximately 10 minutes after this gem was posted on TradeMe (NZ's version of craigslist/ebay), I received a phone call from a potential buyer, the owner of one of Auckland's finest kebab shops. We paid him a visit after the next day's lunch-hour rush. As the store's owner/sole employee, he was unable to stray far from the shop. He hastily inspected the car, which was chock full 'o luggage and illegally parked in a bus zone in front of the shop.

Then the haggling began. He informed us that he was negotiating on behalf of his girlfriend so she would stop nagging him with requests to borrow his car. He called us names such as beautiful, gorgeous, sweet, pretty, dear and darling. I am impervious to flattery. He called me tough and demanded to know my age because I looked like his 17-year-old niece, whom he hasn't seen in 10 years. When we finally agreed on a price, he handed us each a ChupaChup lollipop. Dawn summed it up best: "Do you think he comes from a country that oppresses women?"

We said the car wasn't available for 4 more days. He gave us a $200 deposit on the spot and said to come back whenever we were ready. When we returned 4 days later, he handed over the cash without even checking that the car was parked out back like we said.

When a car changes hands in NZ, the license plate stays the same and there is only minimal paperwork. The new owner fills in some basic information and the old owner mails in the form. When asked for the date of sale, the guy entered his girlfriend's birthdate. Something tells me he's not a details man.

I've met so many travelers who are having a very difficult time unloading their old cars, so I consider us to be very lucky. We almost made our money back and we had to deal with only one person. And we got some candy! Easy as.

Rural Insurer

Any 30 Rock fans in the hizzy? Think back to episode 10 when Jenna filmed a movie called The Rural Juror. It became a running joke on the show because no one could pronounce the title. Such a silly phrase wouldn't exist in real life, would it? New Zealand's Farmers' Mutual Group comes pretty darn close. Ads posted all over the countryside proclaim the company to be the leading "rural insurer." Does Tina Fey have a Kiwi connection? I drive past these signs often. First, I laugh, then I feel sad because it reminds me of all the good TV I'm missing.

Newsflash, Part XL

Uh-oh, turns out that a blog can get you into trouble! The Kiwis are fighting back against some negative comments on a Aussie blog. Unlike those chicken Aussies, at least I'm not doing this anonymously. My face is plastered all over this site. But just to be safe, let's keep N to ZED between us, okay?

Dermatology 101

Summer is drawing to a close and I haven't even taught you about sun protection! I may be late by NZ standards, but I prefer to think of myself as early by US standards. As you look forward to the golden rays of June, remember this golden rule:

Slip, Slop, Slap and Wrap.

Sounds like a cooking recipe, doesn't it? Shake 'n Bake chicken comes to mind. However, the purpose of the slogan is to prevent you from baking like a chicken. The slogan, which has its origins in a NZ Cancer Society public health campaign, has become part of the common Kiwi vernacular.

To clarify, that is:

Slip on a shirt.
Slop on some sunscreen.
Slap on a hat.
Wrap around some sunnies (Kiwi speak for "sunglasses).