The Tour of the Dumplings

On Lindsay's final full day in China, we decided some tasting was in order. Eating in China can be quite tricky as a vegetarian but we signed up for a walking tour with Untour, a small business run by American expats with an excellent command of Mandarin.

At 450RMB, the tour itself was a bit on the pricey side considering a plate of dumplings will cost you upwards of 10RMB. But the knowledge of the city, the local information and the dumpling making class at the end made it all worth it. Our guide was knowledgeable and even managed to have local shops cater to my vegetable eating ways. I'll be honest, most of the day was very veggie unfriendly but I have a soft spot for dumplings so that seemed kind of okay.

We started our tour at 10am in the dripping humid heat of the Former French Concession. From there, we meandered to dumpling stands, jianban (Chinese crepe-esque pancakes), Harbin dumpling houses and had a mid-tour stop for a coffee. We were already full at this point but opted to persevere--it seemed only kind, only economical.

Our next stop took us to Dongping Lu in the Former French Concession where we enrolled in a dumpling making class with a local, and very charming, Shanghainese chef:

 

 Finished product!

By 12:30 I was beyond full, a feeling that lasted the rest of the day. In an attempt to walk it all off, we made two more stops before finishing. The first was at a local wet market, an experience I always enjoy. We wandered through produce variable in colour, texture and size before stopping for the Chinese version of Portuguese egg tarts at Lillian Bakery, a Shanghai institution. As if we needed dessert. We waved a farewell to our tour guide and waddled slowly home in the heat and humidity feeling more than contented. It was definitely worth the money.

Besides the dumpling tour, Untour also offers a range of other culinary experiences. For a similar price, you can go on the Street Eats Breakfast Tour which caters to vegetarians or on the Shanghai Night Market tour which will take you on a journey to the dying Shanghai art of outdoor food markets. Two enthusiastic thumbs up.

Lost in Translation

Chinglish: one of the top ten things I'll miss about China when I, one day, leave.

In Chengdu airport...the disabled toilet:

In Chengdu's wide and narrow alleys:

 On the corner near our hostel:

 Right next to:

Mt. Emeishan: where do I even begin?

Warm prompts to stop the business. Yep, I think that sums it up exactly. 

Mt. Emeishan

Mid-trip Lindsay and I decided to get brave and try the Chengdu regional bus system out. Cue miming and general looks of panic. But it worked and we got tickets to the town of Emei home of Mt. Emeishan, one of Buddha's four sacred mountains in China. At 3,099 meters we prepared for cold weather, stairs and general national park ridiculousness. 

After checking into the Teddy Bear Hotel (just as ridiculous as you might imagine), we made for a wander of the town and bought passes to enter the national park. All of this in mime. Our initial aim was to spend the night on the mountain in one of the many monasteries that offer cheap accommodation to pilgrims making the trek to the top. After being elbowed out of the way by a granny wielding 100 renmibi notes, we gave up on that dream. I'm still not cutthroat enough to elbow grannies out of the way.

Once we started the walk and not so curiously, the stairs were relatively empty in comparison to the hundreds of people queuing for the cable car to the top. Feeling hardy, we climbed and climbed and climbed. It took us no less than 10,000 steps and a journey through the valley of the monkeys to make it to the top.

After my Thailand monkey adventure, I steered clear of the large monkeys dotting public footpaths. I watched in horror as Chinese tourists ignored the 'do not feed the monkeys' signage and were subsequently stalked by primates who growled and lurched viciously for their salty snacks.  

Wikitravel's page on Mt. Emeishan devotes nine lines to the monkeys in the 'Danger and Annoyances' section apportioning the use of bolded capital letters to attest to their danger: 'Be aware of the thieving monkeys, have lost their fear of humans due to unregulated handouts of junk-food from Chinese tourists and note that they can be VERY AGGRESSIVE and dangerous more so than cute. Caution is strongly advised. Some people take sticks for their defense. It is very important not to carry anything in your hands such as bags, bottles, plastic or anything shiny or eatable. It is advisable not to look them in the eyes, since it can be perceived as a sign of aggression.'

Lindsay snapped photos and I hid by checking out the various viewpoints and signs pleading with me not to jump:

     

 Three hours in our epic climb the feeling in our legs began to burn beyond recognition. We contemplated giving up until two things happened. First, we reached signs of life. Only the Chinese would build a foot court at the top of a sacred mountain:

 And as we marvelled at this in the middle of a set of stairs, we became curiously aware of the fact that we were blocking the way and a Chinese couple loomed near us.  I jumped out of the way only for the woman to kind of shove her husband towards us, smile and snap a photo. Before we had any time to react, she threw her phone to her husband, grabbed Lindsay and my hands and shoved herself between us.  Pulling us close she smiled and smiled and smiled while her husband snapped away. Now, we're famous on the wall of some couple whose main happiness in life was taking a photo with two Western tourists.

Closer to the top it got better and better. The Golden Summit loomed in the distance and prompted us to the summit:

Closer:

 And closer:

 With Buddha looking in all directions, we were always being watched. But the weather cleared up in some feat of delight and we could see for miles.

As a sacred place, people also lit up their incense and said their prayers: 

 I will, one day, update this with photos from my camera which are much farther reaching and comprehensive. In the meantime, I leave you with my best impression of a royal elephant:

 

More Chengdu, More Pandas!

After an epic moving and unpacking, I hopped on a flight to Chengdu where I'd meet Lindsay who was flying from Beijing. My flight was scheduled to land an hour before hers but that's okay, because China and Chinese airports.

Of course, the nature of things had better plans in mind. For only the second time in myriad flights in China, we left on time. For perhaps the first time in history, we landed 35 minutes early. I was willing to take this as a success and lump the extra time reading away on my Kindle. But China never disappoints and between finding the other terminal (an 800 metre walk in 38 degree heat) and finding the unmarked, I swear to you, arrivals gate, Lindsay's flight was scheduled to arrive three hours late.

The amenities of Chengdu airport are as such: approximately 4 plastic chairs at arrivals (all occupied); a plethora of seats in departures (all occupied); one vendor selling dried squid, dried chicken feet, dried guts; one 7-11 where the shop assistant follows you around like you're a second-rate criminal about to stash a bag of 'italian meat flavoured but 100% vegetarian' crisps into your carry on luggage. After perusing the 'shops', I took to crouch-squatting on a metal bar (queued for the privilege) for the remainder of the time.

Jen: 0, Chinese Airports: 100

When Lindsay did eventually arrive, we made it back to Chengdu Flip Flop Hostel, still the best place to sleep in the city. I took her on a tour of everything I loved and wanted to see again including the illustriously oiled aubergine and the various twisty lanes and alleys.

This was all time filling for the main attraction though. Pandas were on the agenda and pandas we went to see. Same tour, better pictures.

Still chilling in the same position I left him in last time: 

He climbs:

He flips:

He charms all the ladies:

 If only:

 

The tiny print reads:  Gong Zoi has a mild temperament and a later-than-average nose. He is the character model of Kung Fu Panda.'

 Large proboscis and all, I think he's rather fetching:

 We also caught red panda in treetops. I guess it's as good a nap position as any:

Lindsay was geeked out to the max. Pandas? Pandas! In the process, her shiny happy I've never been in China before face, must have shone through--we were greeted with a China I have never experienced. People were kind and helpful, taxis picked us up and didn't try to fleece us; she was, indeed my lucky charm.

Pandas and good manners: winner, winner.

Koh Lanta

Our last stop on the great summer adventure was to stunning Koh Lanta, a drive and private speedboat away from Railai, and one of Thailand's quieter islands. Because we travelled in 'Green Season', a euphemism for it rains all the time, we were able to afford a few days' stay at Pimalai Resort, one of Thailand's 5 star wonders. If you're one of those people into fancy hotels, this one is ranked as one of the best Small Luxury Hotels of the World. 

It boasts all of the necessary five star luxuries--spa, restaurant, 24-hour room service and desk staff, etc. But people come for all the extras: a 500-meter private beach with free beach games and kayaks; a fitness suite including free muay thai and yoga classes; two infinity pools, one with panoramic sweeping views; bikes; croquet. 

Unfortunately, unlike our last trip to Thailand, Green Season meant green season and the rain fell steadily throughout the week. It gave us the opportunity to take lots of atmospheric weather pics: 

We didn't let this stop us from having a good time even when that meant heading indoors: 

When the clouds stopped pouring down, we took to the beach and local village, all very low key in the best possible way:

 

But I wasn't so down with these primate guests we had to share the beach chairs with:

Hermit crabs, better:

There were lots of little cafes with hammocks and good vibes:

The locality:

Making the most of the facilities:

Finally, a picture of us not pulling faces: 

Weather aside, we found a little slice of heaven in Koh Lanta. Leaving and going straight back to Bangkok was a bit of a shock to the system but not as much of a shock as going back to Shanghai. Where the weather hit 40 degrees celsius, plus humidity. Which is a lot like walking through a steam room with all your clothes on.  Which, for a sweaty person like me, is super fun.  

Alas. Roll on summer!