DATELINE: Hong Kong, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

After all the time I've spent outside over the past three weeks, leave it to me to get sunburned on my last full day here. This morning I took the ferry from Central to Lamma Island, a quiet, car-less haven from the bustling city. I took the 90 minute walk across the island, winding up at a seafood restaurant on the water for lunch. The scenery rivaled Dali's, and perhaps even exceeded it because I was right in the thick of the lush green fields and small (steep but walkable) mountains. Nowhere near as fun as Dali though - definitely a half-day trip at most, unless you're on some sort of quiet romantic getaway. For lunch I ate poached shrimp, fried sweet-and-sour calimari, garlic scallop with thin noodles, and fried rice. By the time I made it back to Kowloon, it was pouring rain. I decided to head back to the hotel to change out of my sweaty clothes. I also decided to do a load of laundry so that I wouldn't have to go home with a backpack full of smelly clothes. Plus I needed to kill some time to get hungry before heading out to dinner. When laundry was done and I went out, I still felt nowhere near ready to eat again. However, my feet were killing me from hiking across Lamma (or walking - is it hiking if the whole path is made of sidewalk?). I decided to live dangerously and follow a 5-foot tall Indian woman who stopped me on the street asking if I wanted a foot massage. She took me up in one of those elevators that have a door to the 10th floor of a dingy, nondescript building. It was decidedly darker and not as nice as the massage parlors I had visited in Shanghai and Beijing. I said I just wanted a foot massage, but the man in charge persisted in asking me to buy body or neck massages. He came out of his office about halfway through my massage and tried to offer me a discount. Then he came out again a few minutes later and told me that he's a "Chinese doctor" and can tell that my neck and shoulders are tight. I've spent a lot of time carrying around a heavy backpack, so they probably were tight. But from the looks of that place, I figured that my masseuse spent most of her time giving HJs, so there was no way I was letting her touch any part of my body that wasn't my feet. My feet did feel great afterwards, though. I made my way down to Causeway Bay, figuring that I would walk around and find a place for dinner that looked good. I strolled around, unsure, until I saw a shining beacon of hope: a large autographed photo of Anthony Bourdain in the window of the Under Bridge Spicy Crab restaurant. I of course went inside to try their house speciality. Market price for a small crab was listed as $300HK (about $38US - by far my biggest splurge meal of the whole trip). I asked for "Very Spicy" - the second-hottest level of spice listed on the menu (I figured "Super Spicy" was just silly). The waitress tried to talk me out of it, but I insisted I could handle it. The crab showed up on a huge plate ("that's a SMALL one?") covered with a layer of chili flakes and dried chilis about 3 inches deep. I dug in, feeling not shy at all about getting in there and picking apart the crabby bits with my fingers. My lips were soon burning and my nose was running. Even worse, as my nose continued to run it started to secrete chili oil making my face burn. I loved every second of it and finished the whole crab - even extracting the meat out of the legs, which meant sucking on chili-covered shell. The waitress kept coming to check if I was ok. I told her it was great, even though I'm sure I looked like hell. After dinner I went straight to 7-11 for some ice cream. Between dinner and the sunburn, I still feel hot all over. And I can't believe I have to leave tomorrow! waaaaaaaaaah

DATELINE: Hong Kong, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Last stop on the grand tour (sigh). The bus ride was uneventful and fortuitously dropped us off in Kowloon, right near the Metro and only 4 stops from my hotel. I'm staying at a place my dad recommended, the Salisbury YMCA--and, yes, it *is* fun to stay here. First of all they "upgraded" me to a "standard room" (I had no idea that the room I reserved was below standards), and it is enormous. People had prepared me for closet-sized rooms, Manhattan style, but this room is bif enough that I could do cartwheels in it. If I could do cartwheels, which I don't think I actually can do anymore (might not stop me from trying, though). They gave me shampoo AND conditioner! I haven't uses conditioner in 3 weeks, so it's going to feel so luxurious. There's a flatscreen TV, a big wardrobe (I might even unpack my backpack here), and a minibar! Snacks offered include cashew nuts, Pringles, and instant mashed potatoes with beef. I probably won't use it, but I love the novelty of having one. Oh, and I am obviously going to order room service for breakfast, just because I can. Muahahahahaha. My hotel is also in a great location: I'm around the corner from both Louis Vuitton and Outback Steakhouse! Kidding aside, the location really is great. I'm right on the water and was able to watch the light show this evening just by going across the street. There are restaurants everywhere. I ate at a Japanese place recommended by Lonely Planet (didn't have sushi though--not going to risk getting food poisoning this late in the game). It's busy here and all lit up. There's a distinct seediness alongside the cosmopolitan element though, in a sort of Vegas-y way: yes, that's a Chanel store on the bottom floor, but I'm pretty sure bad things are going on upstairs. Walking down the street mens encountering a barrage of men asking "Miss, you want..." (half the time I don't even listen to hear what they're offering me because I'm pretty sure the answer is no) and women thrusting massage service fliers into my hand. I plan to have a fun-packed day tomorrow, so for now I'm going to take a bubble bath, wash (and condition!) my hair, and, heck, maybe even crack open one of those $22HKD (less than $3 US) beers from the minibar. Might as well enjoy this lifestyle while I can!

DATELINE: Guangzhou, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Where we last left off, I was searching for a Cantonese restaurant that had been recommended to me. I found it (turned out the cabbie hadn't been too far off), and am so glad I did. I ordered roast suckling pig and roast goose over rice. Both were crispy, fatty, succulent, and just plain delicious. After my late lunch, I took the Metro down to Beijing Rd. I only had to transfer twice, and I felt like a pro. By the time I arrived, the sun was down and the neon lights were in full force. I took some great pictures--I think. There were lanterns and Christmas lights on the trees, and people and shops everywhere. Once again I was astounded by the sheer volume of stuff for sale - I walked into a building that contained corridors of stalls, dozens of them, all selling fake Nike and Converse shoes. Where does all this stuff go if nobody buys it? I walked back to my hotel and was drenched in sweat by the time I made it. Determined not to make my one night in Guangzhou an early one, I showered and dressed to head out again. Charlie had recommended a couple of dive bars, after I told him my nightlife preference, but they were a significant distance from my hotel and neither Metro nor taxi appealed to me at that moment. I ate some dumplings, then ventured in to one of the many nightclubs in the vicinity of my hotel. I chose Soho bar. As soon as I walked in, an older Chinese man ushered me over to where his friends were sitting. They shared the pitcher of whatever they were drinking (Henessey cut with something very very sweet - I never quite figured out what) and wouldn't let me leave even though the language barrier meant we couldn't have much of a conversation. Also, I was about 95% sure they thought I was a prostitute. There wasn't much space for dancing, and a skinny guy with a Jackie Chan haircut and a sequined jacket was enthusiastically lip-synching in the spotlight. I left and walked over to another club, which seemed more promising because of the giant Jack Daniels posters outside. I walked the perimeter of the inside looking for the bar, only to realize that it was all table service. Once again, no dance floor. Club #3 was more of the same, but at least there was a bar where I could sit and order what turned out to be the worst cocktail I'd ever had. It tasted like mouthwash. A German guy came over to talk to me, advised me to stick to simple drinks, and ordered me a whiskey cola. He said that the nightclubs in Guangzhou are all really strange - with no dance floor (despite the pounding dance music) and young people gathered around tables playing dice games. I finished my drink. German dude offered to walk me back to my hotel, but I declined (it was literally right around the corner). I went back and watched a Chinese infomercial about electronic cigarettes. At least part of the program was devoted to the premise that regular cigarettes cause birth defects. They illustrated this point by showing a crying woman, a photograph of a hideously and improbably deformed infant, and the same crying woman hitting her cigarette-smoking husband repeatedly. They also cut to a stout, effeminate man lounging in a plush chair and enjoying his electronic cigarette. The "doctors" giving testimonials were all white guys. I'm not sure what to make of that. This morning: checked out of hotel and stashed bags, dim sum lunch (not as good as Philly or NYC, but maybe I didn't order well -- it was a checklist menu all in Chinese rather than carts that allow you to point to things that look good). They brought me chicken feet, even though I know the name for them in Chinese and am pretty sure I didn't order them. The people working in the restaurant seemed to all be watching to see how I would react to them - little do they know, I'm a dim sum Pro. The turnip cake was great, but the char siu bao (my favorite) was kind of disappointing - too little pork and the bun was quite dry. I'll try again in Hong Kong, but even if I don't get great dim sum here, I know it's something I can find easily at home. No worries, mon. Now I'm on the bus to Hong Kong, and I can't believe it's my last stop before going home. I'm so sad that my adventure is almost over, but I can't wait to see my friends and give them presents!

DATELINE: Guangzhou, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

The rest of my train ride was relaxing and enjoyable. I talked to the mother and son in my compartment a little because she spoke some English and explained that her 8-year-old son was learning English in an after-school program. She even asked if I work for Wal-Mart because she recognize the Sam Walton button on my bag (thanks Andy!). When I wasn't reading, I entertained myself by helping Daniel (the kid's English name) practice his phrases, much to his mom's delight. For dinner I grabbed one of the rice boxes from the ladies who came around with carts. In addition to white rice, it contained (in descending order of deliciousness): breaded pork on a stick, ground pork with pickled hot peppers, marinated mushrooms, a cold and tasteless omelet, and rubbery bean curd. When I didn't finish, Daniel became concerned that I don't like Chinese food. I tried my best to explain that the food on trains isn't very good in America either. Sleeping on the train was just heavenly. The motion of the train was soothing and felt directionless when I closed my eyes. I need to do this train thing more often (Trans-Siberian sometime in the future perhaps? I met some travelers who had been on it). I slept soundly all night, then fell back to sleep in the morning after brushing my teeth and all that. Guangzhou is hot and busy. It took awhile to get my room because the hotel couldn't find my online reservation (the hotel in Kunming also had this problem, yet none of the cheap backpacker hostels did. Curious). My hotel is right on the Pearl River, which should provide some nice walking this evening. Then I was off to find a Cantonese restaurant recommended to me by the acquaintance I made in Kunming. I showed the address in Chinese to the cabbie and he said OK, but he turned clueless soon after and I somehow ended up in the electronics district. At least there was a McDonalds so I could get some fries as a snack (whenever a Chinese person makes me mad, I get an insatiable craving for American fast food. It's like my own personal patriotic rebellion) and a Starbucks so I could use free wi-fi and pick up a copy of the local English-language magazine with restaurant and bar listings. Roast pork awaits!

DATELINE: ?, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Stupid internet.

DATELINE: ?, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Hour 3 of the 23-hour train journey from Kunming to Guangzhou. I just ate something delicious in the dining car. It was pork, I think, with onions in a spicy chili-oil-hued sauce. Some of the pieces were pure fat and some had the soft texture of offal, but everything tasted like the sauce. I'm sharing a compartment with a mother and son, and a single lady. All Chinese--in fact everyone I've seen on the train is Chinese. The little boy had a McDonald's bag and offered me some French fries. My upper-berth soft-sleeper is very comfortable and has plenty of head room, a cozy blanket, and a pillow with a pillowcase that smells freshly laundered. The other people in my compartment seem to want to sleep even though it's the middle of the afternoon, so I have to use my book light whenever we go through a tunnel. (Last night, Charlie asked me how many books I've finished during this trip. "None, but I've been reading Dostoyevsky.")The hard-sleeper cars seem more lively, with people talking and playing cards across the aisles. I'm sure when nighttime comes, though, I'll appreciate having a quiet compartment with a door that closes.

DATELINE: ?, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Hour 3 of the 23-hour train journey from Kunming to Guangzhou. I just ate something delicious in the dining car. It was pork, I think, with onions in a spicy chili-oil-hued sauce. Some of the pieces were pure fat and some had the soft texture of offal, but everything tasted like the sauce. I'm sharing a compartment with a mother and son, and a single lady. All Chinese--in fact everyone I've seen on the train is Chinese. The little boy had a McDonald's bag and offered me some French fries. My upper-berth soft-sleeper is very comfortable and has plenty of head room, a cozy blanket, and a pillow with a pillowcase that smells freshly laundered. The other people in my compartment seem to want to sleep even though it's the middle of the afternoon, so I have to use my book light whenever we go through a tunnel. The hard-sleeper cars seem more lively, with people talking and playing cards across the aisles. I'm sure when nighttime comes, though, I'll appreciate having a quiet compartment with a door that closes.

DATELINE: ?, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Hour 3 of the 23-hour train journey from Kunming to Guangzhou. I just ate something delicious in the dining car. It was pork, I think, with onions in a spicy chili-oil-hued sauce. Some of the pieces were pure fat and some had the soft texture of offal, but everything tasted like the sauce. I'm sharing a compartment with a mother and son, and a single lady. All Chinese--in fact everyone I've seen on the train is Chinese. The little boy had a McDonald's bag and offered me some French fries. My upper-berth soft-sleeper is very comfortable and has plenty of head room, a cozy blanket, and a pillow with a pillowcase that smells freshly laundered. The other people in my compartment seem to want to sleep even though it's the middle of the afternoon, so I have to use my book light whenever we go through a tunnel. The hard-sleeper cars seem more lively, with people talking and playing cards across the aisles. I'm sure when nighttime comes, though, I'll appreciate having a quiet compartment with a door that closes.

DATELINE: Kunming, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

I'm not sure what to make of Kunming. My experience here has been different than in any other city because I chose to stay in a hotel rather than a hostel. The difference in atmosphere is significant: instead of a relaxing bar or courtyard, there's a swank lobby lounge with a grand piano. Instead of a casual cafe, there's an overpriced buffet at the "revolving restaurant" on the 23rd floor. Above all I've noticed that nobody staying here seems to be my age. When I did my requisite "first night get the lay of the land" walk, I was dismayed to find that all that seems to be around here are other hotels. Feeling sort of bummed out and lonely, especially because I had left behind lots of fun in Dali, I watched Tommy Boy on HBO and turned in early. Today I planned to venture out to the Bamboo Temple, because I wanted to see the sculptures. They are supposed to range from realism to caricature to hyper-realism to surrealism, and apparently the sculptor responsible disappeared after completing it because he offended people's sensibilities. I thought I was all slick because I had the hotel concierge write down the name of where I wanted to go in Chinese. I hailed a cab and gave him the piece of paper. The cabbie began yelling at me in Chinese and gesturing wildly with his hands. I stammered back that I didn't understand and he continued his rant. Finally I just said "OK," and he started driving. It turned out that what he was yelling was something along the lines of, " I don't want to drive to the Bamboo Temple, so I'm going to take you to the Western Hills instead." I decided to roll with it. I took the cable car up and enjoyed the view. Of course there were vendors, and I grabbed an ice cream bar with an ear of corn on the wrapper. It was sort of like a wafer cone in the shape of an ear of corn, with corn flavored ice cream in the middle. Very odd, but not entirely un-delicious. I saw a restaurant with picures outside that looked like a Yunnan speciality called Over the Bridge noodles. It's a soup broth with a thin layer of oil over it, served with a bunch of raw meats, cilantro, chives, egg, and noodles. You dump everything into the broth and it cooks. Pretty good, but not as good as Pho. I asked the taxi driver to take me not back to my hotel, but to the address of a bar recommended in Lonely Planet. The place wasn't anything special, but there were comfy seats for a beer and some reading (I feel like these blogs are making me seem like an alcoholic). I walked around that area and on the campus of Yunnan University. It was only when I decided to take a cab back to my hotel that I was able to gauge just how far from civilization I was staying. I figured I would probably end up heading back out in that direction for the night. I ended up staying around here because, by some miraculous coincidence I managed to run into the one other American solo traveler staying in the hotel. He was a teacher in Guangzhou, so he was able to give me a lot of great tips for Guangzhou and Hong Kong. He was only in Kunming for the night after long day of traveling, with a flight to catch early in the morning, so he wasn't up for anything too crazy. We walked around the area of the hotel and confirmed that, indeed, the only bars around were the ones in hotels. He knew enough mandarin to ask people where to go have a beer. We were pointed to a convenience store. When he explained that we wanted a bar, we were told to take a bus or a taxi. We ended up sitting in the hotel lounge, even though the beers were overpriced and the music was terrible (operatic Chinese versions of Scarborough Fair and the Titanic song, for example). I appreciated having some company though. So, in stark contrast to the debauchery of the previous few days, I find myself, for the second night in a row, in my room by 10pm watching a movie. It's not too different from my life in Brooklyn, I guess.

DATELINE: Dali, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Dear Mom and Dad, I'm sorry for the hours of worry I caused you if you happened to google the Dali Torch Festival after reading my last blog. Yes, I threw fire and had fire thrown at me; but because I was dressed like a commando I emerged from the fray unscathed. On the bus to Kunming now, and feeling quite sad to leave this special place. I did see lots of job postings for English teachers here, though. Hmm...

DATELINE: Dali, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

The food in Yunnan is some of the best I've had in China. Last night I went for dinner with another new associate, a Swiss guy named Didier. He was ready to eat ordinary Chinese food, but I found a restaurant with a separate menu of local Bai specialties (the Bai are the predominant ethnic group in Dali). After telling him some of what I know about Yunnan cuisine, and showing him some of the dishes described in my China Menu iPhone app, he deferred to my expertise and allowed me to order for the table. I asked the waitress for her recommendation and she said if we like spicy, we should try the spicy sauteed beef in Bai sauce. I ordered that, as well as a whole fried carp Dali style and a steamed Bai eggplant dish. The spicy beef never came, nor was it on our bill, but it turned out that the other two dishes were enough. There's something so indulgent about ordering a whole fish and picking it apart. The eggplant came in a complexly-spiced tomato sauce. After dinner we went back to a bar where we had spent some time the previous night, to meet up with another traveler named Gavin. Didier is really nice and respects my knowledge and interests (he said he was surprised, as a Swiss Francophone, that I know so much more than he does about French cuisine and film); Gavin, on the other hand, has me pegged as the ignorant American. He mocks my accent when I try to pronounce foreign words and thinks it's just hilarious that he speaks six languages and I only speak one (I didn't let on that I can read and understand a fair amount of French, because he would slip into French whenever he wanted to make a snide comment to Didier - I mean, obviously if 3 people are sitting around speaking English and suddenly 2 of them break into another language, it's meant to exclude person #3, so I figured I would let them play that game if they wanted to). I haven't written much about my experience being an American tourist in China, which has mostly come up vis a vis travelers from other Western countries (to Chinese, we're all the same kind of honky - for example at the Chairman Mao residence in Shanghai, the young Chinese guide asked my friend Michiel if I was his daughter, despite the fact that he's only ten years older than me and a blond Dutchman, an amusing reversal of the conception that Westerners think "all Asians look alike"). The only Americans I have come across have been one family from Philadelphia I met on the Great Wall. Travelers from Europe and Australia are surprised to see an American because the perception is that we don't travel to non-Western countries. For the most part, though, everyone has been respectful; if anything, they see it as a positive thing that I'm going against the stereotype. Gavin may try to belittle me, but I don't let it bother me, because, quite frankly, speaking multiple languages and living around the world is not the sole indicator of one's intelligence. Most of his comments in general, not just the ones directed at me, where inane and banal. The depth of my knowledge of the English language is likely about equivalent to the breadth of his knowledge of multiple ones. Still, I could only stand his company for a short while, so I left for the friendlier terrain of Bad Monkey. I made it an early night, though, because of course I had to wake up for the cormorant fishing excursion. I was the only one who had signed up for the trip from the hostel, so a taxi took me to the lake. We drove past some of the most beautiful landscape I've ever seen: lush green fields with grassy-yet-jagged mountains rising beyond them. I took lots of pictures, though I'm not sure how they turned out considering I was in a moving car. The cormorant fishing itself was a thoroughly touristified experience, but it was still a great one. I was the only Westerner in our group of three rowboats being commandered by a Bai woman yelling in Chinese through a megaphone. Our three boats surrounded the cormorant fisherman's boat, which had a row of birds on either side. We watched the fisherman release the birds into the water. They swam along next to the boat and dove under to bring up fish. When they brought back the large fish to the fisherman, they were rewarded with a small fish as a treat. After watching the birds catch some fish, our boats went to the lakeside for some snacks. They had skewers of while fried shrimp (little ones, whole and unpeeled) and skewers of small fish fried and also eaten whole. I pointed to one of each of the skewers and the Bai woman put it into the oil for a few minutes than sprinkled it with a spicy powder (she tried to hand me mine without the spices, but I corrected her). The tiny whole fish and crustaceans were strangely addictive, like any salty bar snack that one intends only to nibble on but ends up eating handfuls. Of course Chinese people were amused by the fact that a Westerner was there and eating their food and wanted to take pictures with me. I've grown accustomed to this phenomenon and now, whenever someone asks shyly in broken English, "you take picture with me?" I hand over my camera to the photographer as well. After the morning excursion, I've spent another day enjoying the heavenly weather and scenery here. Tonight is the Torch Festival, and (as per instructions from the Bad Monkey guys), I've bought myself a longsleeved shirt, gloves, and bandannas. Sounds ominous, but they promise me it will be an unforgettable experience.

DATELINE: Dali, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

A night at an expat bar and an afternoon of sunshine and blue skies was just what I needed to turn my mood around. After writing my blog last night, I walked to a bar called Bad Monkey that I'd read about in my guidebook. The first sign that things were looking up was when I saw a bottle of Makers Mark behind the bar. After two weeks of drinking wan Chinese beer, cloyingly fruity cocktails, or vodka-sodas, it was a treat to sit at a bar and have "my" drink; it was comforting even, given my mood at the time. I ordered one on the rocks and talked to Adrian, the German bartender. The bar remained crowded with patrons and workers alike; at times I think there were 6 people behind the bar, talking and joking as they shoved around each other. The whole atmosphere was convivial, with the bartenders remembering the names of travelers and expats who had been through there before. I talked to a guy from Mauritius who was of Indian descent and now lives in Guangzhou. He had only been to Dali once before, a year ago, and the dudes behind the bar treated him like an old friend. We did a bit of barhopping, though the lack of good bourbon caused me to switch to Coca-Colas from glass bottles (doesn't it taste better that way?) On my way back to my guesthouse, I saw things were still hopping at Bad Monkey and decided to stop in. A different bartender took my order and he beamed when I ordered a Makers on the rocks. "I'm a Scotsman," he explained, "and it hurts me that people around here don't appreciate good whiskey." He said he occasionally hears people ordering Chivas Regal........with Red Bull. When he marked down my drink on the register, he said, "Oh wow, we've already sold two of these tonight!" I laughed and said they were both mine. Another bartender detected that I was from New York, which was where he grew up. He went to U of Buffalo, so we were even able to commisserate about our time in that city. I stayed until closing time, promising that I would be back tomorrow. The charming Scottish bartender, Russ, took me to his favorite dumpling house for lunch today (then back to Bad Monkey for a cup of coffee (no bourbon this time). I spent the afternoon wandering the old city and shopping in the markets. There are dozens of stores that, pardon the disrespect, all sell the same crap. The ritual of bargaining gets a little old, but there's always the option to leave and go to another place. I made some fun purchases for myself and others. I also discovered my new favorite street snack: cheese fan - a thin slice of goat cheese wrapped onto a stick, pan fried, and sprinkled with sugar. Tomorrow I've signed up for a Cormorant fishing outing (yay!) and ended up changing my bus to Kunming from tomorrow to Friday. Tomorrow night is the annual torch festival and my new buddies say I can't miss it. It's hard for me to believe that yesterday at this time I was feeling thoroughly depressed about this city.

DATELINE: Dali, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Out of all the cities on my itinerary, Dali was tied with Chengdu for most anticipated. So far I've found myself feeling a little disappointed. Both of my guidebooks touted it as a bohemian backpacker paradise, with constant jam sessions in hostel courtyards and old Bai ladies chasing westerners down the street shouting "Ganja? Ganja?" (and YES, mom and dad I know better than to buy or use illegal drugs in a foreign country - but that tidbit seemed indicitave of a laid-back atmosphere with lots of cool people in my peer group). But so far the hostels seem like ghost towns, except for a few parents and kids. I also had to run around to find a new hostel because the one I had reserved placed me in a room in a building about 100 meters from the main building, behind an iron fence that I found impossible to open. The room smelled like bleach and had no television or wi-fi. Mostly, I was alarmed by the idea of coming back to my room at night and having to struggle with the gate. The hostel itself had no bar or restaurant, only a limited menu of items that could be ordered and served in the reception area, so it's not like there would be safe and fun options in-house. I tried 2 more hostels around the corner and they were booked. At the second one, the helpful lady at reception brought me around the corner to a locally-owned guesthouse that had a room for a good price. The receptionist also said that if I'm staying at that guesthouse, I'm welcome to use all of their hostel facilities. I was very apprecitive and after settling into the room I went back to the hostel for some fried local noodles and a vodka on the rocks (have I mentioned that China generally suffers from a lack of acceptable whiskey.) I also booked my bus to Kunming, so at least that's one fewer thing to worry about. The hostel offers a Cormorant fishing excursion, which many of my friends heard me talking about before the trip as something I was dying to see. With the weather as such, though, I'm not sure it would be much fun at all. I'm going to head off to a couple of expat bars to see if they can provide more insight into what, exactly, is supposed to be fun here. If nothing else, I'm sure I'll enjoy exploring the market and picking up souvenirs. I could use some cheering up, so drop me a line at lc_in_china at yahoo dot com.

DATELINE: Lijiang, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Once again I find myself in a lovely place nearly by accident. Lijiang, an ancient city in Northwestern Yunnan Province. It was named a UNESCO World Heritage site, but threatened with having that status revoked as it became "too touristy." The touristy-ness was one reason why I didn't make visiting here a priority; the other was that Tony came here and ate only slimy-looking vegetable dishes that even he didn't seem to enjoy. My next stop after Chengdu was to be Dali, about 3 hours by bus from here. There are no flights or trains directly from Chengdu to Dali, so my plan was to fly into Lijiang, take a quick jaunt through the old town, and get right on a bus to Dali. Well, once again my plans were thwarted as I was inexplicably bumped from my flight, despite having an email confirmation saying "Your trip is reserved." The lovely people at Air China in the Chengdu airport dealt expertly with my near panic-attacks and managed to get me a seat on the next flight that evening, even though they had initially said all flights were full until Wednesday. I had a lovely bulkhead seat next to an adorable little girl (perhaps 4 years old?) and her mom. She was restless and I played with her the whole time. She kept opening the armrest thing, and I opened it and pretended to recoil in horror at the scary thing inside. She imitated me and got her mom to do the same. That game lasted a few minutes. Then we played "throw the flight magazine into the lap of the person next to you and exclaim 'Pwah!'" When the flight crew announced we were preparing for landing, the girl was exasperating her mom by fussing about the seatbelt and opening the clasp. I invented a new game: touch the seatbelt and pretend it's extremely hot and painful to touch. I'll be a totally kickass mom someday. So anyway - I arrived late in Lijiang, well after the long-distance buses had stopped running. I hopped on the airport bus to the city, then took a cab to the old town, where I had read in Lonely Planet, "Throw a stick and you'll hit a charming Naxi guest house." (The Naxi are the ethnic minority indigenous to this area). I walked around the charming stone paths (no cars in old town) and found one with a room for a good price. I then set out to find something to eat. I walked into a noisy bar. The host looked at me nervously and said, "no English menu." I smiled and said the Mandarin word for "beer." He brought me a Pabst Blue Ribbon in a *bottle* which I've only ever seen once before, at a dive in Brookyn Heights. The bar was loud and raucous. There were wooden blocks on all the tables, and every few minutes the clientele would burst into song and bang the blocks on the table. I was the only Westerner in the bar and was treated like a celebrity, with people approaching me nonstop to clink bottles. I met a girl who spoke some English and she took me across the street to what seemed like the only food stall still open. I pointed to a chicken skewer, expecting it to be grilled as I had seen done before. Instead, the lady put it into a wok of hot oil that must have contained some chili oil because the cooked chicken had a red hue and a spicy flavor. She sprinkled sesame seeds on it. I saw stacks of flatbread - a local specialty called Baba. It's a greasy layered flatbread stuffed with a mash of fruit and nuts. It was a perfect way to round out the meal. After taking lots of pictures with my new drinking buddies, I went back to the guesthouse and settled in to sleep underneath a cozy comforter. (I forgot to mention that the first attribute of Lijiang that I really appreciated was the fact that I had to wear my shrug for the first time. The temperature here is so comfortable compared to the scorching heat I've been subjected to so far). It's morning now and I'm sitting in a charming cafe next to the stream eating local specialties of fried goat cheese and local potato pancake. The food here is great: sorry Tony, but your fixers really screwed the pooch here.

DATELINE: Chengdu, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Early in my trip, I almost made plans to bypass Chengdu because of bad weather. I'm so glad I decided to, as Mom would say, play it by ear. I have had a great time here and wish I could stay a little longer (but I'm also eager to get to Yunnan). I did experience my first rainy day in China yesterday. I put on my poncho and set out to find Chen's Mapo Doufu, the oldest mapo tofu restaurant in Chengdu. After much searching, and my map nearly getting ruined in the process, I made it. Wow! Delicious!! And for those of you who are shocked that I ate tofu for lunch, I must point out that it was topped with ground pork. The rain had gotten worse after lunch, so I decided to take a taxi back to the hostel, instead of a bus. It felt like I had to wait forever to find an empty one! (I guess it's like finding a cab in NYC in the rain.) I sat in the front seat of the taxi so I could easily show the driver my map, which was bilingual and also had directions to the hostel printed in Chinese. He shook his head and motioned with his hand that I should get out of the taxi. Not eager to go back into the rain, I did what any good New Yorker would do: I took out a pen and wrote down his license number. Well, he quickly changed his mind! He did try to get away with not using the meter though, but I quickly noticed and motioned for him to turn it on. Bam. Nothing gets by this chick. This morning I woke up early to tour the Panda Breeding Center. The pandas were amazing! I've never seen one in person before. The adult pandas had just been fed and were lazily munching on bamboo. Pandas can only digest 20% of their food, so they move around very little to conserve energy. They rarely mate and often have to be artificially inseminated. Also, mother pandas often lack a maternal instinct and become frightened and hurt their babies after giving birth. All in all, they are pretty much the most poorly evolved creature in nature; but they're adorable and beloved so conservationists work hard to keep them alive. I saw a tiny infant panda in it's incubator. It was so small that it wasn't even cute yet, just squirmy and pink. The highlight was a bit of a splurge for a once-in-a-lifetime experience: for a donation of 500� (about $75), I was allowed inside one of the panda enclosures! I pet and hugged a giant panda and a worker took lots of pictures of me with it. It was worth the money! I met some Israeli backpackers while on the panda tour, and they invited me to a Sichuan cooking class this afternoon. Tonight I will fly to Lijiang and begin my tour of Yunnan Province. In other great news, I was finally able to secure a train ticket! I'll be in a soft sleeper (the more luxurious option, with a curtain and only 2 berths stacked atop each other instead of the hard sleeper's 3) for the 23-hour journey from Kunming to Guangzhou. What an exciting way to close out my travels within China.

DATELINE: Chengdu, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Success, and only 4 hours behind schedule. I'm treating myself to a taxi from the airport rather than taking the bus to the city center. Off to Sim's Cozy Garden Hostel, where, as the brochure says, "Rabbits run free and happy.". Sounds like my kinda place.

DATELINE: Chongqing, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

I know what you're thinking, Dear Reader: "But I thought you weren't going to Chongqing!" Apparently my airline had different plans. I'm currently sitting in the Chongqing airport--actually, outside the airport in the plane, which was *supposed* to have landed in Chengdu. I haven't the faintest idea what's going on, because the announcements are no longer bilingual (I guess the crew's English skills were limited to "please put your seat backs and trays in the upright position.") Even the movie they put on is in Chinese (with Chinese subtitles! What a tease!). I'm popping a kloponin and hoping that I'll be able to follow the lead of my fellow passengers, since they are all in the same boat (er, plane). I'm itching to get to Chengdu, to eat some mapo doufu and see pandas. In the meantime though, I'd settle for stretching my legs and eating some KFC in the airport.

DATELINE: Xi'an, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

The heat in this city is crazy, but otherwise I adore it. The nightlife here is especially vibrant, with neon lights everywhere and lots of vendors out, food and otherwise. When I was out during the day today, the heat and humidity were so overwhelming that I was worried I wouldn't be able to eat; fortunately I found a hand-pulled noodle cart that had gathered a crowd. Even though the old lady preparing the noodle dishes made mine with significantly less red chili oil than the bowls the Chinese girls I was sitting with were eating, it was still flavorful and satisfying. I was sweating so much from the heat and humidity that one of the girls gave me a packet of tissues. I really wish I understood some (any) Mandarin, because people here keep trying to talk to me, and I feel bad not understanding. Last night some guys were trying to talk to me and they called over a little girl to help. I couldn't communicate with her that well, but I made her laugh by showing her random phrases from my Mandarin phrasebook ("There is a problem with the toilet." "Is there a fitting room?") This evening, I went to the Tang Dynasty music and dance show. It was a dinner theater, and they served us quite the dumpling feast beforehand - including duck dumplings shaped like little ducks, pork dumplings shaped like little pigs, and walnut dumplings shaped like little walnuts. (Guess which ones were the only dumplings I refused to try?) The show had lavish costumes and scenery, good Chinese music, but most of all it provided a nice break from walking around in the heat to find my own fun. After coming back to the hostel, I decided to venture out again. I walked up to the Bell Tower and Drum Tower, then to the Muslim Quarter night market. While walking around, a ton of taxis, pedicabs, and motorbikes kept stopping to ask if I needed a ride. I decided that taking a motorbike was something I really wanted to do, so I went to one of the taxi stands and found a female driver so I wouldn't get raped (stabbed maybe, but likely not raped). I showed her my hostel on the map and she said she could take me there for 10 yuan (realy cheap!) I had so much fun on the bike, and the cool breeze dried all of the sweat off of my drippy forehead. I should be getting to bed reasonably early tonight because tomorrow I'm going to see the Terra Cotta Warriors. I hear that it's another sweatbox, but it's something I do want to see (besides, I'll likely be just as sweaty if I stay in the city). I hope I meet someone on the tour who wants to explore with me during my last night in the city - I enjoy walking around by myself, but there are some discos I want to check out and drinking alone isn't much fun.

DATELINE: Xi'an, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

It's 11pm here and I'm eating spicy grilled corn on a stick and watching an outdoor karaoke party in front of the Bell Tower. Sounds great, but then again, it's 90 degrees, oppressively humid, and I'm dripping with sweat. Shanghai was sweltering, and Beijing was brutal, but daytime in Xi'an might do me in.

DATELINE: Beijing, China 

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Author: Lauren Cohen

Here I am at the Beijing airport awaiting my flight to Xi'an. I didn't expect to be flying so much, but apparently train tickets are impossible to book. The sleeper seats sell out a week in advance, and I'm not anywhere a week in advance of anything. None of the long-distance ticketing services have turned out to be reliable. Ah well - still haven't given up hope. I don't know what it is that I find so enticing about long-distance train travel, but I know it's something I'd choose to do if given the opportunity. Trying to make the best (read: most fun) of my traveling circumstances, I searched in vain for a bar in the Beijing airport. Ended up buying a beer from a vending machine. China can be a strange place.