Kirby on the Road

Circumventing the censors

2010-09-08T16:31:00.000-07:00

Hi all, turns out since my last visit Beijing has clamped down on Blogger so I won't be updating this blog after all. (I had to get my dad to post this.) We're having a great time, and we'll see you all once we're back. Jason

Off again

2010-09-04T07:02:00.000-07:00

Hey all,
As most of you know Donna and I are heading to China. I figured I'd revive this clunker of a blog to keep everyone up to speed on where we are. So retro in the world of Facebook and Twitter.
Unlike my last trip, I don't expect to write much. This will mostly be for photos and quick updates.
Keep in touch

I'm back

2006-09-04T06:49:00.000-07:00

UPDATED with a pic of the world at 430 kph for M.F.

What a trip. Sitting here in my home office in Vancouver at 4:30 a.m. on Monday and thinking back over the last five weeks, the whole thing is a bit of a blur.

Over the weekend I decided to see if I could catch one of the Air Canada flights to Vancouver ahead of schedule. In the end my friend Dean wasn't able to make it up from Hong Kong. It would have cost way too much for just a two-day visit. I'm kicking myself for not planning things better so I could visit with him.

I took the Maglev high-speed train to the Shanghai Pudong airport. I opted for the first class ticket, which wasn't that much more expensive. It gives you a seat in the front car and I had it all to myself. There was a digital clock and speedometer on display. At exactly 12:20 the engine roared up. My jaw fell open as the digits racked up the speed. 100km/h, 200km/h, 250km/h (this is as fast as I thought it went) 300km/h, 400km/h, 430km/h. I couldn't believe it. The world was whizzing by so fast I couldn't focus on anything. The trip that takes roughly 45 minutes by taxi was over in just 8.

Air Canada was good about the stand by ticket. There was no extra cost, and my luggage was accepted. I grabbed a final meal at the airport restaurant, a noodle soup of grilled pork and vegetables. The flight lifted off at around 5 pm on Saturday, and touched down in Vancouver four hours earlier at 1 pm Saturday. Donna was waiting at the airport for me, very happy to see me. I was overjoyed to see her there.

I've unpacked now, and tried to get back into a normal sleeping patter, but with the clock at 5 a.m. that's clearly not working yet.

The Vancouver air is as wonderful as I remembered it. Already my sinuses have started to clear and the drip in the back of my throat is going away.

On my last day in Shanghai I went to the Yuyuan gardens, which are surrounded by a series of ancient looking buildings. It started raining hard and I got stuck in nearby McDonald's waiting it out. Taxis forgo the meter in big storms and prices shoot up about 7 times the actual rate. Once it cleared I made my way back to the hotel to pack my stuff.

I did some planning for my writing. I have a heckuva lot to do in the next few weeks, but the stories are forming in my mind. Now I just have to get them down on my keyboard.

It was a great experience to see China and India back to back. There's still a lot I wish I'd have done. In India I didn't take the time to visit any new places. I would really like to visit Rajasthan and see the temples there, or visit the Ganges. While in China, I also hope to one-day visit the remote northwestern region. That was all on my itinerary for this trip, but I think I was a bit overambitious and unrealistic in my planning. Lesson learned for next time.

I don't plan on updating this blog any time soon. I set it up for the purpose of the trip and I don't think you'd want to read about my walk to the office or how I dashed out that last-minute story on deadline. I'll post a last few pics.

Oh, and before I wrap up, my first meal back in Canada? A four-cheese burger from Vera's on Denman, with fries and a strawberry milkshake. That might account for the rumblings in my belly.

Pics

2006-08-31T17:16:00.000-07:00

I'm at the Astor in Shanghai. My room is twice the size of last time. The web works wonderfully. So, finally, from China, a few pics of India:

Rant! Rant!

2006-08-31T08:28:00.000-07:00

Only read this is you feel like hearing me rant.

I barely made my flight to Shanghai. Despite several people at the hotel telling me I’d only need to give myself a couple of hours to check-in, I went extra early. That was the only thing that got me on the plane.

After 1 ½ hours lined up at the check-in counter, the surly Air India lady told me my luggage was twice the allowed weight. See, with Air India, they count your carry on luggage in the 20kg allotted space, which is the total you're allowed to bring. (With Air Canada, for instance, it's 23kg per checked bag, up to 2 bags.) With my camera, lenses and laptop, that really put me over. Plus I had the carpet and a bag of gifts. That meant I’d have to pay extra. Ok, I figured. How much could it be? How about nearly $400!!!

That was almost the price of my ticket. It's clearly a dirty money grab from a third-rate airline, but I was in a jam. I knew I had some books and papers that I’d collected from companies for research that I could chuck in a pinch. I didn’t think I could get rid of that much though, so I decided to bite the bullet and pay. But when I gave them my credit card, they said it wouldn’t work. I gave them my other one, and it wouldn’t work either. The only place in India where my international credit cards don’t work is the capital city’s major airport.

They still wouldn’t let me on the plane, so I had no choice but to start throwing out gifts. I might even have to discard the carpet, I thought. My plane was to begin boarding in 20 minutes.

I started dumping stuff on the floor – my travel guides, all my books and papers (except my notes), my sandals, some of my gifts, clothes. I had a growing pile on the floor when a guy came over and suggested I ship my stuff to Canada through the post office outlet nearby. They weighed it, and the cost would be about $150. Much better. So I ran over to the foreign exchange to cash travelers’ cheques. “We don’t open for another ½ hour,” they told me. Again, this is the country’s major international airport, and at 7:45 am on a busy weekday, they didn’t have a forex open. In the end, there was one branch open, at the other end of the terminal. I ran there, sweat flying everywhere, and got the required rupees.

On the way back I got my boarding pass and checked in my remaining luggage. It was still overweight, but they let it slide thankfully. The postal guy worked at a snail’s pace – “What’s the rush, don’t worry, take your time” he kept saying. My flight had started boarding 20 minutes earlier, and I hadn’t even gone through security. I almost went postal, but managed to keep my cool. The guy said he’d finish wrapping my parcels. He assured me they’d arrive in five days. We’ll see. I got on the flight seriously wondering whether I might have just handed him $150 for nothing. As it was I had to “tip” him a couple hundred rupees before leaving.

Anyway, I finally got on the plane and we sat on the tarmac for another hour. What’s the hurry?

Finally a pic

2006-08-30T08:41:00.000-07:00

I booked into the Taj Palace hotel. very swank. Great pool. I was just riding up on the elevator and one of the staff, who I'd never met before, said "Good evening Mr. Kirby." Of course, in keeping with all Indian hotels, the Internet service is expensive and crap. I can't maintain a connection long enough to upload to Blogger. So only one pic, of me in front of the Gateway to India in Mumbai at night.

Most of the day was spent in and around Connaught Place, a series of ring roads that's at the heart of Old Delhi. It was the first place I went to when I got to India last year, and where my hotel was, and I now realize it's not representative of India. A foreigner can't walk 10 feet in CP without being accosted by beggers, rickshaw drivers, touts hawking chess sets/napkins/maps and guys trying to play friendly to lure you back to their stores. While other parts of India do have all of those, no where is it as concentrated as here. It really wears you down.

At one point I walked past the Air India building and remembered that was where I had my first run in with a con. It was a shoe shine guy, who by the time he was done had talked me into removing my shoes so he could work on them, pretty much destroyed them, and somehow convinced me to pay him for it. Just as I was recalling how ticked off I was, and how much I'd learned since then about spotting the cons, I saw another Western guy sitting on the ground beside a shoe shiner in the exact same spot, smoking a cigarette, and looking pissed off. The circle is complete.

Last year the centre of CP was a dusty wasteland, torn up as part of the construction of Delhi's new subway system. I remember thinking there's no way they'd ever get it done. I only saw one piece of equipment, a rickety earth mover. But it is done. And it's a great system, albeit a bit limited until they finish all the expansion. I took a quick ride to one station down the line and back.

I wanted to take photos of the subway, but couldn't. Cops everywhere were telling me no photos. It's been like that all along -- today alone I was told no "no photos" three times by authorities. It's all in the name of security, but smacks of cops trying to look like they're doing something. I saw on the news this morning a bunch of protesting students beat a professor to death in full view of the cops who stood around watching. I'm sure if anyone was trying to take photos, they'd have swung in to action.

My penultimate day in India

2006-08-29T07:59:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted a great deal since I got to India (partly because of the lack of quality internet connections.) I've also been in go-go-go mode, which hasn't left much time for sight seeing. Tomorrow, my last day here, I have vowed to try and do a little bit of playing tourist. I haven't been taking many photos either, since sitting in the back of cars only affords so many photo-ops.

As most of you know this is my second visit to India. I was here in April 2005. For that reason, many of the images that made my jaw drop last time seem almost second nature to me now. I have spent a total of 6 weeks in India, which isn't a lot compared to some of the one-year journeys some travelers undertake here, but it's enough to get used to the cows and the beggars on the roads.

Ok, scratch that. You never really get used to the beggars.
At least, I haven't. When you're sitting in your air-conditioned car stopped at an intersection, quite often you'll hear a tap at the window. If you turn and look down, you're likely to see a child of no more than 4 or 5, barefoot, in rags, staring up at you and repeating some strange words with his or her hand out. Or an old man with his fingers eaten away by leprosy will appear beside your open-air auto rickshaw and jab his mutilated limb at you. Or you'll see a young boy, with his legs snapped and bent behind his back so his feet reach over his head like antennae, wheeling through traffic on a makeshift skateboard.

What do you do? Roll down the window and toss them some rupees? I did that a few times on my last visit. Then others see you handing out money, and rush over. It starts to feel like you could give away all of the money in your wallet, empty your bank accounts, sell your car and mortgage your house a thousand times over and barely make a ripple. It would only encourage more criminals to maim children to increase their haul.

My answer is Indian charities. On my last visit the airline I flew handed out envelopes earmarked for a children’s' charity. I haven't found a charity yet, but will before I leave. So instead I do what the most Indians do when accosted. I look straightforward, put on my Bombay blinders, and wait until the beggars go away. It still feels horrible.

I was in a car last week when I remarked about a stray dog to my host. He told me a story he'd heard, about the residents of a building who found one of the regular strays lying in the road, its front legs crushed by a car. They wrapped it in a blanket and took it to the vet. The group chipped in to have the dogs front legs amputated, and outfitted the animal with a harness and wheel so it could still get around. In the end people felt so sorry for the dog they overfed it, until it was too fat to roll anywhere. Minutes later, at an intersection, we sat stone faced as a young girl, holding a baby, begged for money at the window.

I briefly met a woman yesterday who has devoted herself to helping Delhi's stray dogs. She estimated there are as many stray dogs in India as there are people in Canada. She spends half her income to hire a man who, each day, travels Delhi to feed and care for 150 strays. She also told me there are too many people in India. Something must be done about it. But what, she asked sighing. India is a free country. You can't impose a one-child policy like China has. I was interrupted before I could ask her what she thinks can be done about the begging children.

Anyway, enough deep thoughts for one day. You can all put down the sharp objects now.

I bought a carpet today. On my way back from a meeting, I had the driver drop me off at one of the cottage industry shops, which are government owned stores that sell authentic products. They cost more, but there's no haggling. It's 4x6', and while they wrapped it up tight, I have no idea how I'll pack all this stuff up. I'll worry about that tomorrow night.

Oh, it turns out I was wrong about that Ganesh festival. It only started on Sunday and it's not celebrated much in Delhi. But while in Mumbai before I left I saw dozens of frenzied processions carrying brightly painted clay elephant God statues. Neat sight.

Ok, time for food. There aren't a lot of restaurants that I feel safe going into around my hotel. I gauge a restaurant here by the number of Indians sitting at the table, and all the joints here are empty. So I guess it's time for a bit of Mickey-D's. Should I have the McVeggie burger, the McAloo Tikki, or the Veg McCurry Pan?

Delhi Belly

2006-08-27T23:43:00.000-07:00

(It doesn't look like there will be any more pics until I'm back in China. It doesn't seem to matter what kind of Internet connection I get, Blogger just won't accept any photo uploads to the site.)

I arrived in India's capital a couple of hours ago with a receding case of stomach troubles. Unfortunately I got walloped again at Anupam's house. I think it was the sweet lassi.

On Saturday we headed downtown to pick up my ticket to Shanghai. I must have caught Air India on a good day when I reserved the ticket, because my second visit was an excruciating experience. I arrived in the middle of the staff's 2 hour lunch break, which ran half an hour over the posted time. I was a bit nervous, because I'd been told my reservation expired at 2 pm on Saturday, and by 2:05 the place was still deserted. But apparently the airline's computers take a long break too, so there was no problem getting my reservation. Getting my ticket proved to be a bit of a hassle. The agent insisted that I needed a visa for Shanghai. I tried explaining that I have a visa for China, and that Shanghai is a city. That took a while. They also wanted proof that I had a ticket out of China before they'd let me fly there. I didn't have this much trouble when I was entering China in the first place. Finally the guy ripped my credit card receipt so that my signature wasn't on the merchant copy. I tried to tell him Mastercard probably won't accept unsigned transaction records. I tried.

After that Anupam, his wife and I went in search of the oldest English building in Mumbai, a church that was built in the late 1600s. It had the first photo graph of Mumbai hanging inside. Once you were inside, with all the tombs for knights, gentlemen and ladies, it was easy to forget you were in the heart of India's biggest city.

Following that we visited the home where Ghandi lived when he was in Mumbai, from where he orchestrated much of the resistence. There were letters from him to Hitler, imploring the Fuhr to stand down from war, and F.D.R. His bedroom was preserved behind glass, with his spinning wheel and mattress on the floor.

We capped the visit with the fateful sweet lassi drink.

That night Anupam and I went to a restaurant near his home and quaffed some Kingfishers and shared stories. He's a serial entrepreneur, with many proposals and ideas constantly on the go. He has been tapped by one of the big U.S. business magazines to write a blog about business in India. He's the perfect guy for that.

That night was when my stomach troubles hit me. In hind sight, it meant that I had to get a fair bit of rest, which wasn't bad. I had barely slept in the Mumbai hotel for two nights because of the racket and its short beds.

We ventured out to a big glitzy mall, complete with all the big name U.S. brands. It could have been the Eaton Centre or any other western mall. India is undergoing a huge shift from road side stores to malls. Wal-Mart is eager to enter the market, though merchants are fighting tooth and nail to prevent that. Kind of reminds me of Vancouver.

I bought a couple of CD's at a music store called Planet M, and Anupam bought me the soundtrack to his favourite Indian movie.

My flight to Delhi was uneventful. The hotel is a little ways from downtown, but it's a nice place with WiFi internet, albeit slow. At 3 today I'm getting picked up for an interview, then tomorrow I have another meeting for another story. Wednesday is my free day, so I hope to cram in a lot of shopping before I leave India.

Oh, and my buddy Dean is flying all the way up to Shanghai from Hong Kong to spend the weekend with me before I fly back home. What a guy.

Home sweet home away from home

2006-08-25T22:13:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting at the dining room table at Anupam’s house. He and his wife Kanika are taking a quick post-breakfast nap. We didn’t get in until around 2:30 am last night. Anupam has high speed internet, but Blogger is being a real pain in the ass about posting pics so I'll only get to put one or two up for now.

I had a busy day yesterday with work, and when I was done I returned to my hotel to collect my luggage. Anupam came by that evening to collect me. I was very happy to see he drives a Suzuki Maruti Wagoner, a truck/car with good trunk space. My belongings are getting increasingly heavy.

It’s been great to be with them on so many levels. For four weeks I’ve been in business mode. I’ve had nice conversations with people I’ve met at some of the companies, and had some nice chats with locals. But to hang out with people you know, swap stories over beers and laugh out loud at the inanities of life feels great. We started the evening by going to a bar in Colaba and catching up over a few beers and starter dishes. Anupam is doing very well. His company is doing consulting work for HP in Bangalore. Kanika just landed a very exclusive job in the head office at Tata Group, India’s largest company, through a program where they train people to become company leaders.

From there we went to Bademiya, which translates into big brother, a street stall that has been around for years and is probably the most famour eatery in Mumbai, even with all the top-notch restaurants. It’s a drive in. You park your car, and just like in the old A&W days, a waiter takes your order and brings the meal to your car. We snacked out of the back of his vehicle and watched the bustling city street around us.

Anupam lives in a district of Mumbai near where all the famous Bollywood stars call home. It’s a two-bedroom apartment on the first floor. My bed is huge, at least a king size, if not wider. This morning there have been a steady stream of people at the front door. A lady came to clean the house. On most days a guy comes to cook breakfast. The laundry people came to collect clothes. I gave them my jacket to press because I have an important meeting on Monday in Delhi. You can get anything and everything delivered right to your home here. Feel like renting a movie? They deliver. Run out of toothpaste? They deliver. Need bread? They deliver.

In a bit we’re going to head back downtown. I have to pick up my Air India ticket to Shanghai. Then we’re going to visit some sights.

As an aside I love reading local papers when I travel. The options in China were limited, of course. But there are many English language papers here in India. Every day’s paper is engaging. You just can’t get drama, crime, gossip and political stories like these in Canada. Here’s a synopsis of some of the stories from yesterday’s Times of India:

-a bull in a market broke lose and gored a traffic cop before an army of firefighters could subdue the beast
-politicians debating in parliament broke into a melee after one MP accused another’s “men” of being involved in a rape. The accompanying sketch showed one politicians hurtling a speaker box at another MP’s head
-a woman set herself on fire after police and city officials showed up at her front door to enforce an eviction notice
-a leading industrialist was arrested for supplying bullet proof cars and flack jackets to organized criminals
-dowry deaths are on the rise in India. A court called them a “national shame” after convicting two men who poisoned the wife of one of them because she didn’t bring enough of a dowry to the marriage
-a famous millionaire “bar dancer” faces charges after she assaulted her body guard when he asked for his pay

Pics will come...

Crisis narrowly averted

2006-08-24T08:20:00.000-07:00

I can't describe how horrible it feels to open your wallet in a Mumbai shop and reach for your credit card, only to realize it's not there. This morning I discovered I was missing my Master Card. Terrible thoughts rushed through my mind. I've never lost a credit card before. I rarely use the thing, since I came well stocked with traveller's cheques. I did a little backtracking in my mind and figured the last place I used it was Leopold's restaurant in Colaba, where they offer tourists a 10% discount if they used their credit cards. That was on Monday. I dashed out of the store, hopped in a taxi and we gunned it over to the restaurant. I had pretty low expectations, but when I asked the cashier if they had my card, he pulled up a stack of credit cards two-inches thick left behind by all the other dumb tourists. Mine was on the bottom of the pile. Phew. That called for a Kingfisher then and there.

My flight to Delhi is booked. I got a great deal. $120, taxes included. It's about a 3 hour flight. I'm flying Kingfisher Airlines, a discount carrier that launched recently. I wonder if they serve beer? I also have a reservation for a return flight to Shanghai that's about $100 cheaper than what it cost me to get here. Unfortunately Air Canada said all the seats the first week of September are booked. But that's what they said about my flight from Vancouver to Shanghai too, so I'm just going to show up at the airport and try for standby.

I have a day of back-to-back interviews tomorrow. Then in the evening I'm hooking up with my friend Anupam. He's invited me to stay with his family for the weekend. I get to live the life of a Mumbaiker. Can't wait.

My buddy Jamie sent me an e-mail today saying how much he liked the food entries in my Blog. He pondered what it would be like if I kept writing after I returned. Here's an exerpt from his e-mail:

i think it would be hilarious if you keep doing the blog once you get home.
i can only imagine the entries...

"i'm sitting in a tim hortons right now, eating a chunky chicken salad sandwich. it's on a 5 inch whole wheat roll with a butter on one side. the tomatoe is dangling perilously from the edge of the hastily put together sandwich. i swear my sandwich stewart must be having a bad day as she actually tried to get away with out even giving me a pickle. bitch."

Well, as it happens, today I had my best meal in India so far. It was a Gujarati Thali, a vegetarian dish from the province that Ghandi called home. They brought out a variety of side dishes, including my favourite, spicy pickle. Then they set down a large flat round stainless steel plate, with about eight small steel bowls on it. Into each bowl they poured a different vegetable mixture, ranging from hot to sweet. You’re given a variety of breads, and you scoop up the food with the bread. Each dish was bursting with flavour and completely unique. I didn’t realize it, but it was a buffet of sorts. Each time a bowl neared empty, or my bread ran low, the waiter would rush over and give me more. You wash it all down with a yoghurt drink.The cost was 120 rupees, or about $3, not including the beer I ordered. Why don’t we have this meal back home? Maybe we do. I gotta check.

Another Long, Long, Really Long Post

2006-08-23T22:55:00.000-07:00

Sorry for being an absantee blogger. This will be one of those meandering entries that come in no chronological order whatsoever, leap from topic to topic, and probably put most of you to sleep. It comes with staying in budget hotels in India, whose managers stare at you blankly when you ask if their $40 rooms come with Internet. India has plenty of Internet cafes that are pretty cheap, but they’re awful to Blog from – you go into a sweaty, hot room, the keyboards are buried under years of grime, the computers run Windows ’75, and groups of Indians tend to gather around to watch what you’re doing. I've finally found a place where the computers have USB ports, so I am going to paste in stuff I wrote on my laptop. I just spent 45 minutes uploading four pics, only to have IE crash, so there won't be any images yet.

SNIP SNIP

It’s Wednesday night, about 9 pm. I’m in a budget hotel in Mumbai’s Colaba district, the place I moved to after fleeing the pricy Hilton. The Harbour View is an acquired experience. My room (at around $40) backs onto a construction site with scaffolding resting against the shuttered window in my “standard” room. There’s no hot water. And little kids run screaming through the halls until midnight. But it does have a rooftop patio restaurant. I’ve got a table with a great view of Mumbai Harbour. It’s short-sleeves weather, but not muggy or sweaty at all. I just ordered dinner. My starter is Tandori mushroom caps with a hot side sauce. Kingfisher is the drink.

It’s nice to be still for a change. Over the last three days I calculate I’ve spent 15+ hours in cars. I did a lot of driving in China, too. But there you’re in a nice air-conditioned car, rolling along smooth blacktop highways.

A road trip in India is an endurance test. My trip on Monday took me deep into the suburbs. I had an address for a company I was going to see. I went outside and found an Ambassador cab, and gave the driver the address. He wobbled his head from side to side – the Indian nod. I should have known better. We ended up stopping a dozen times for directions. Indians appear not to have any sense of direction. They can be standing right in front of the place you’re looking for, yet they’ll point you down the road without a clue where they’re sending you. It’s happened to me many times.

Here’s my anatomy of an Ambassador. Most cars on the road in Mumbai are Ambassadors. They’re right out of the 50s, based on a Fiat model from that era. Even the meter is out of date. Drivers carry a conversion chart that calculates the proper fare using an every-changing multiple. The car is basically a metal box with wheels. The seats feel like they’re made of wood. Shocks? Forget it.

All Ambassador’s are in some state of severe disrepair. Mine this time was no different. On the return trip it started to rain. When the driver absolutely couldn’t see anything, he reached down beside him for the broken windshield wiper and stretched his arm out the window to sweep the rain away. Nor did his headlights appear to work, even though it was pitch black. All you can do is look out the side window and put your faith in one of the country’s many Gods.

The roads here are more pothole than pavement. I just returned from a four-hour drive from Pune. We traveled all of 160km, including a long stretch on the country’s most modern superhighway. That gives you a sense of how rough the roads are. Once you’re anywhere near urban centres, you run into the usual obstacles – worker repairing roads by hand, broken down autorickshaws blocking traffic, meandering cattle, the list goes on. My ribs are still sore, and I think I permanently destroyed the nerve endings in my butt. Indians seem completely immune to the ills of road travel. They doze off the second they’re in the car and sleep soundly, no matter how many craters send the car hurtling through the air.

Back to my dinner in Mumbai. I’m chowing down on a Hyderabad specialty made with shredded chicken, cottage cheese, and a spicy gravy. I also ordered peas pulaf (a mix of rice and peas) and garlic naan bread. I’m going to paste in some stuff I wrote while I was in Pune yesterday:

SNIP SNIP

It’s Tuesday night and I’m in a city called Pune. I came down here with a company to interview a very wealthy and successful Indian entrepreneur who is one of the ten richest men in the country. Fitting then, that I’m sitting in a $20 budget hotel with a 2 inch thick piece of foam for a mattress. I even had to buy my own toilet paper. That’s a budget hotel.

On the TV a guy just jabbed a foot long metal spike through both his cheeks, and then, with his face, lifted a stack of weights off the ground that were tied to the rod. The crowd went wild. That’s Indian TV.

It’s often difficult to reconcile the extremes of India. The country has such a vibrant science and high tech sector. Yet for days India has been gripped by a series of “miracles” that have enraptured tens of thousands. First, water in Mumbai’s saltwater harbour was reported to taste sweet, so multitudes waded in and started drinking the blessed water. The experts said it’s the result of runoff from the monsoon rains diluting the ocean water. Health officials pleaded with people not to taste it, because the fecal count and poison levels are so high they could get typhoid or other diseases. But the news showed people pouring bottles of the stuff down their throats, all the while claiming they couldn’t get sick because it was miracle water.

Then an idol suddenly started drinking milk from a spoon somewhere near Delhi. (I don’t know how you just discover something like that unless you regularly try to feed your statues.) Soon idols all across India were guzzling dairy products. The cameras captured women weeping at the miracle. Yet when they showed it on TV, you could plainly see the milk dribbling down the idols’ chins. Representatives from India’s rationalist movement took to the airwaves to talk sense into the masses. All of this mystic hodge-podge was treated with only mild skepticism by the TV networks here – they actually seemed to give the idol-feeders the benefit of the doubt.

SNIP SNIP

Ok, back to Mumbai on Wednesday night. This dinner is very good. My taste buds have been well trained to handle the spicy food. That e-coli vaccine I got before I left seems to be working wonders, except for that little episode in China. As a result I’ve been more adventurous in my eating. Still, there are no scorpions on the menu here.

While I was in Pune I went to a restaurant that offered dishes from all across Asia. There was a huge mural of the region painted on the ceiling. I had a spicy chicken soup mixed with mint. It was so hot my ears hurt. I followed it up with an Indonesian mutton dish.

Ok, confession time. I’m desperate to breath the fresh air of Vancouver. I was day dreaming about driving to the Mount Cyprus lookout to lay on the grass and inhale it all in. Here’s something to gross you out – I’ve become a phlegm machine, constantly coughing and snorting. When I blow my nose, the crap that comes out is a grainy, black substance. I’m reading a book at the moment called Maximum City, about Mumbai, in which the author claims a day in Mumbai is the equivalent of smoking two packs of cigarettes a day. I believe him.

There is a lot of housekeeping I have to do tomorrow. Book a flight to Delhi, book a flight from there to Shanghai, change my Air Canada return ticket to head home a few days early (yes, I aim to be home by Sept. 4 if not sooner), tell my friend Dean in Hong Kong to meet me in Shanghai around the 30 or 31 of August for a few days, and have all the goodies I bought in Beijing shipped down to Shanghai.

I’m also going to sit in Leopold’s bar and read more of Maximum City. It’s a great book, and one that has ticked off a lot of people here. The author is Indian born, but moved to the States with his family when he was young. He longed to return, and the book is about his search for his own Mumbai. It’s funny and brutally honest. Mumbai emerges as a living breathing character, so reading it while I’m here is a great experience.

I had a nice long talk with Donna tonight on my cell phone. Since I don’t have web access for my laptop anymore, I can’t Skype with people. Overseas phone calls are relatively cheap through mobiles here. I told her I’ve been feeling lonely. That’s probably why this post has been dragging on for so long, for those of you who haven’t nodded off. I’m on a Mumbai rooftop talking to my computer for company.

I think I’ll go to Crawford market tomorrow for knick knacks and souvenirs. That always makes me feel better.

Quiet period

2006-08-21T00:35:00.000-07:00

I won't be posting much over the next couple of days I don't think. I moved out of the pricey Hilton into another hotel, but in doing so I lost my internet access. I've got two days of back to back meetings, so I'll do an update when I've got web access again.

Mumbai day one

2006-08-20T05:09:00.000-07:00

I forgot how much I like India. In a lot of my posts I've been worried about functioning here and whether I could hack it after running around China for 2 1/2 weeks. Yes, India does throw up a lot of barriers to make life difficult, as my post about the airport shows. But once you're on the streets interacting with the people, it's great. The thing I most appreciate about India is that it wears its heart on its sleeve. China is all about putting on a good face. In Shanghai the buildings are decked out like Christmas trees. In Beijing the poor and beggars are shunted out of sight. You're left with a sanitized version of reality. India doesn't hide anything. It's all right there for you to see, so you know what you're really getting. For better or for worse. I appreciate that.

After a way-overpriced and quite bland breakfast at the Hilton Towers restaurant, I went out for a walk. The hotel sits on Marine Dr. and looks out over the Arabian Sea. There's a path that runs along the water, so I decided to head north. India is known for it's cows wandering the roads -- I've already seen three — but it's also home to thousands of stray dogs. They seem to be harmless, just lounging around when not scavenging for food. This morning there were half a dozen sunning themselves on a stretch of the seawall.

It didn't take long before young kids came and struck up conversations. They all want their photos taken, and then they rush up to you to see the digital display.

Down many side streets groups of kids were playing cricket. It was just like street hockey. Every once in a while someone would show something -- I assume "car" in Hindi -- and they'd part to let the vehicle pass before resuming the match right after.

I kept getting turned around on my walk. There's no grid in Mumbai, just a chaotic web of roads. Three times I ended up in the same square in the Fort area.

By this time it was lunch, so I found a vegetarian restaurant nearby and ordered some dosa, sort of like a thick crepe, stuffed with curried vegetables and garlic chutney. Very spicy. I followed it up with a refreshing sweet lassi, a drink made of yogurt, water, salt and sugar, then an Indian coffee. Strong stuff and full of flavour. The meal cost me 60 rupees, which is just under $2.

I made my way over to the Gateway of India arch, which was built to commemorate a visit from the Royals back in the days of the British Raj. Great for people watching.

It started to rain so I went to Colaba, the neighbourhood where I stayed when I was here last year. There's a great little bar called Leopold's so I ordered a frosty Kingfisher beer and watched it pour down. There are major floods up and down the west coast of India. This is the height of monsoon season, it seems. I sure know how to time my visits.

The upside is today kicks off the week long Ganesh Chaturthi festival, which I think wraps up next Sunday when thousands of people dunk giant statues of Ganesh, the elephant headed god, in the sea at Chowpatty Beach. I should be around for that hopefully.

UPDATE: I deleted the graph about not being able to view my blog in India. Turns out it was just a poor Internet connection.

Welcome to India, now line up over there

2006-08-19T19:02:00.000-07:00

My head is spinning. Partly from the shock of India, partly from exhaustion.
My flight left Beijing at 9 am Saturday and I got into Bangkok around noon. I had some time to kill in the Bangkok airport, so I changed my Yuan to Thai Bhatt and ordered some Pad Thai — one of my favourite dishes — and a Tiger beer from a restaurant. My flight was delayed, and it didn't end up leaving Bangkok until 7 pm. There was an Australian woman sitting next to me who was coming to India for her first time to take a 10-week yoga course or something. She didn't sound convinced that she could handle the place. I tried to reassure her, but I don't think she believed me.

We had to fly around Mumbai for ages because of congestion at the airport. After Shanghai's sleek terminals and even Beijing's older airport, the Mumbai International airport seems set up to test even the most refreshed traveler. It's tiny. No air-conditioning. Instead huge industrial fans periodically blast passengers as they make their way through the hall. There was a huge lineup at customs. The guards kept shifting the lines around in ways that made no sense whatsoever. That was line-up number one. After I cleared customs, I had to join a long row of people to have my luggage x-rayed yet again for some reason. Then another line up to have another piece of paper stamped. And then...another line up, for another security check. Thankfully this last one had a reassuring sign over it saying "No Check Beyond This Point." By now, it was already 11 pm. I needed rupees for the taxi into town, so I went to the foreign exchange desk. More stamps, more photocopies of my passport. The lady typed stuff into her computer for a good 20-30 minutes before actually changing my money.

I ordered a pre-paid taxi at an office inside the airport and they gave me a receipt with a taxi number on it and told me to stand by the big Taxi sign outside. After about 30 minutes of waiting I was told taxis are no longer allowed to park in front of the taxi stand for security reasons. I had to wade into a sea of Ambassador cabs to find the right one. None of the drivers knew where the Hilton hotel was. There were six of them gathered around my guidebook map as I gave the driver instructions on how to get downtown. He didn't have a clue. Halfway to the hotel an awful grinding sound started coming from his engine. We had to pull over three times as they worked under the hood. Then a couple more stops to ask directions. The guy wouldn't give me my money back so I could grab another taxi. What should have been a 40-minute drive was another 2 hours. Lordy Lordy.

The hotel is nice, but I certainly didn't get my moneys worth last night, having arrived at nearly 3 am.

The sun just broke through the clouds. I'm going for an early morning swim in the pool and then breakfast.

Zaijian China, Namaste India

2006-08-18T03:34:00.000-07:00

It's Friday evening, my last night in China for a while. Tomorrow morning I have to get up very early and make sure I catch the 6 am shuttle bus to the airport which leaves from just around the corner.

I'm going to miss China. This was an excellent first visit. Sure, there were a couple of down days when I was either ill or got ripped off by some crooked taxi driver or something. And I won't miss the Big Brother feel of the place. But I met a lot of great people and saw some incredible things. I would have liked to have headed into the rural parts of the nation, since that's where the bulk of the population lives. I'll save that for the next trip.

I met up one last time for lunch with some people I worked with here. We had Peking Duck -- crispy on the outside, fatty and juicy on the inside. Yum!

I fear I've been a bad tourist in Beijing. There's a lot of the city I haven't seen because I've been trying to write or set up stuff for India. So this afternoon I made my way to the Temple of Heaven. Once I got there I realized why I probably haven't missed much by not going to all the sights. Parts of the Temple were closed for renovations in the leadup to the Olympics. It's becoming a regular nightly news item on TV for tourists to complain that they paid full price for package tours to China, only to find out that they weren't allowed into many of the major attractions. All the more reason to come back again during 2008 when all the work is supposed to be done. I still had a nice time at the Temple, which sits in a huge, lush park. I wandered through the trees for a while to get some shade from the afternoon sun.

I'm doing my laundry as I write this. There are some funny looks from the Chinese staff and guests when I carry my wet laundry down to the next floor where the dryer is. I'm probably the only guest using the complimentary washing machine in the rooms. Everyone else seems to use the hotel laundry service. I'm that cheap.

Definitely getting more psyched about going to India. Part of it is probably the itch to see something new, having been in Beijing for a bit more than a week. I did just check the weather and it's supposed to be a week of thunderstorms in Mumbai, which blows. I'll make the most of it. My next post will be from Mumbai.

Goodbye China, Hello India

Should I be offended?

2006-08-17T03:23:00.000-07:00

Not to descend into the gutter, but since I've spent so much time talking about the great food I've been eating, I should give some space to the repercussions of all that exotic cuisine. I was laid low by e-coli or some other nasty stomach bug last night and today. I think it was the orange juice at my hotel breakfast, which was basically Tang, probably mixed with Beijing sewer water.

What's worse, I was running low on Imodium, the traveler's best friend. You don't want to go to India without the stuff. So I dragged myself down to the pharmacy next door to the hotel. Imagine walking into Shopper's drug mart, but every character on every bottle is in Chinese. Bewildering to say the least.

I wandered the aisles until a saleslady asked me something in Chinese. I patted and rubbed my stomach. She looked at my belly, and then grabbed a box from the shelf that had a pink stomach on it. Aha, Chinese Pepto-Bismol, I thought. But then she motioned for me to wait and got someone who spoke English. I told this second woman I wanted Imodium and she took the box from my hand and returned it to the shelf. As we walked over to the proper aisle, I asked: "What was that other saleslady going to give me?"

-"Diet pills"

I paid for my Imodium and left the store, my self esteem a few notches lower.

Why I'm a chicken when I cross the road

2006-08-15T21:26:00.000-07:00

Some thoughts on not dying when getting from one side of the street to the other. I bring this up, because I think I've finally mastered a technique.

Many major roads are wide, with three lanes running each way and a small divider running down the middle. Yes, there are traffic lights. And most big intersections have guards with loud whistles trying to herd pedestrians around. But the little green man doesn't mean you have the right of way. No. Might is right. City buses, for example, don't appear to have to obey red signals; they regularly plow right through while honking their horns, sending pedestrians diving out of the way. I'm not even going to bother addressing the psychopathic bicyclists.

Many roundabouts don't seem to have any traffic lights at all. So the hapless pedestrian must weave through several lanes of traffic. My expertise at the Frogger game on my old Atari 2600 has come in handy.

When standing at the edge of a fast-moving river of cars I have taken to waiting until someone else joins me. Then I follow them across. Not just anyone will do, though. Teens and younger adults are no good. They dart much to fast. By the time I realize they've gone a motorcycle or minivan is barreling down on me. Instead I wait for children and seniors, because drivers seem to have slightly more compassion for those age groups. Most seniors are ok, because they move slowly and carefully. But others seem to have a fatalist approach to road-crossing, as if they're thinking: "I've had a good life, if it's my time to go under a speeding VW Santana taxi, so be it."

That's why kids make the best guides. They have more to live for. I do to. Lead on, little ones.

Quick question

2006-08-15T08:20:00.000-07:00

Is anyone having trouble seeing the pics I'm posting? Meaning does it generate a page of text gibberish when you click to enlarge?

Hutong hits of the 80s and 90s

2006-08-15T06:47:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling much better now. The sun came out today. Blue skies all around. The mood in the streets reflected it. People were out in droves.

In the morning I packed up my computer and headed out in search of a Starbucks. Thought it would be a good place to write. I ended up finding a knock-off coffee shop. It didn't have Internet, but made a damn fine latte. The Chinese don't drink coffee, so I've ingested a lot of instant. I didn't mind paying the price of a full meal for my caffeine injection. Plus they served beer too. Got a fair bit done, even with the people outside pressing their noses against the window to see what the foreigner was doing. Felt a bit like being in a zoo.

With the crowds, the dog walkers were out in force too. I'm told pets are a relatively new fad that's come with prosperity. The government has tight rules on when you are allowed to take your dog for walks during the day, but no one seems to obey them. Most of the dogs are small and fluffy. Even still, many Chinese seem to steer clear of them.

I booked my flight to India, leaving Saturday. It cost a bit more than I was expecting because I have to grab a connector in Thailand. I also forgot how pricey the hotels in Mumbai are, because of the shortage of accommodation in the city. The place I was after, the Ascot, is booked. Most hotels there don't have Internet. To ease me into the transition, I'm staying at the Hilton Towers, a supposed 5-star hotel, though many of the online reviews would beg to differ. Got an ok web special price.

This evening after work I went for a walk along some Hutong, which are narrow east-west alleyways. The bulk of Beijingers live in small stone homes that have courtyards facing Hutong. It's like stepping into the past. People leave their doors open and you can look in and see them going about their lives cooking dinner, watching TV...bathing. In its quest to modernize China, the city is tearing down many of those dwellings to make way for ugly apartment blocks. My guidebook says 10,000 a year are demolished. You can see the rubble everywhere. It's sad really. All these colourful old homes ploughed under. Of course with thousands of rural poor streaming into the city every month, the only reasonable way to accommodate the influx is to build up.

While walking down one Hutong a man introduced himself. In fractured English he told me he was an artist who paints Hutong scenes and that the area I was in, with all the rubble, wasn't the real thing. I smelled a tout trying to sell me art, but I still decided to go with him to his home and see his paintings. It would give me a chance to check out one of the little dwellings. His name was Sonny, and he turned out to be a really nice, interesting guy. His home was cramped and cluttered, with a bed in each room. His easel was in the back, and he did indeed have some lovely paintings of Hutong in summer and winter, alongside "experimental" art that dabbled with topics such as the Cultural Revolution and the Red Guard. One painting showed topless peasant women grinning. Another had a terracotta soldier standing guard as a Red Army fighter jet roared past. Sonny told me his father committed suicide during the Cultural Revolution. He clearly isn't a fan of the government so I won't post his face. He had an old PC computer and he showed me video of his niece singing gospel songs. I also saw his music download folder. There was some Richard Marx. ("This is a big song in America," he declared. I've heard Right Here Waiting half a dozen times here. It was the warm-up song to the Beijing acrobat show.) He also had Smells Like Teen Spirit. Pretty eclectic for a 60 year old. We exchanged business cards before I left.

I capped the evening with dinner at an out of the way restaurant that had nary a word of English on the menu. Ended up ordering liver. Blah. It's nearly impossible to get restaurants to give you receipts, because then there'd be a record of the sale and the place would have to record it for tax purposes. The black market is pervasive here. To shine some light on it, the Chinese government sponsors scratch and win tickets on meal receipts in the hope that customers will demand a copy. It can pay off. One woman I met won 500 Yuan. But most restaurants insist the printer is "not work."

Up a wall

2006-08-14T02:37:00.000-07:00

I'm back online. It took a couple of days, but they found a techie who spoke some English and he set me up.

My head cold has returned with a vengeance. One of the people I met here bought me some Chinese medicines and I'm trying that stuff. It seemed to be working but now I'm feeling crappy again. It probably also has something to do with waking up before 5 am two days in a row.

Last night I found a great kite store and bought a small dragon kite and another hawk kite. Next door was a hotpot restaurant. There's no such thing as boneless, skinless here. You get it all in your pot. As I picked out the chicken feet and neck parts, I knew it was only time before a head would roll over in my broth and look up at me. I wasn't in the mood for beak, so I took it out too. Other than that, another great meal with a big beer for 25 Yuan ($3.)

It was also a day of odd Canadiana. I heard the 1988 Calgary Olympic theme for the second time in two weeks, and the restaurant was TV had some Norman Bethune propaganda flick. That was, until the owner flipped the channel to watch basketball.

As I said, I got up this morning at 4:50 to get ready for my trip to the wall. The people I was going with said it's best to start early to beat the traffic, and it worked. We made it to Badaling, a city on the edge of Beijing that's famous for its section of the Wall. Just the drive out was cool. As soon as we left Beijing we were in a small mountain range, and you could see strips of the wall disappearing over the hills. It was another foggy day, unfortunately, but it was nice and cool.

I've also heard people talk about climbing the Great Wall, but didn't understand just how steep it is. I saw a couple of people go ass over end on their way down because the stones are worn down and smooth. You gain a lot of altitude very fast, all the while being elbowed in the ribs by Chinese tourists eager to race to the top. There's also a camel and a horse that live on the wall. Their pushy owners try to get you to sit on them and pose for photos. Camels are my favourite animals.

Nor has the Great Wall escaped that other tourist cliché - the carved name. It seems almost every stone surface is etched with Chinese names and dates.

As you near the top you pass the obligatory Chairman Mao picture. everyone has to stop and pose for a pic, as if Mao built the wall himself. When you reach the highest point, it's chaos. It's also hard to get a good picture what with all the souvenir floggers. But it's a great view. Sitting here now it all seems kind of surreal.

Afterward we went to the Ming tombs. The best part was how green and fresh the grounds were.

Lunch was at a popular Sichuan restaurant that cooks with buckets of chili. I was only able to snap two photos when the manager ran over and yelled that photos weren't allowed. As if we were going to go and replicate their famous spicy fish dish or something. This is China; everything's a knock off anyway. It was a great meal though. I had this drink that was made by boiling a corncob, carrots, pears and water chestnuts and then putting it in the fridge to cool. The vegetables float around in the bottom of the jug when it's poured. Very refreshing. I also ate my first lotus root sprinkled with sugar.

I have to admit that I'm getting a bit tired of living out of my suitcase. My pal Dean did it for months as he bounced from Asia to Canada and back. Yet I'm feeling worn down after just two and a half weeks (has it been that long?!?). There's also some apprehension about heading to India, knowing how challenging it can be to get around. China is pretty straightforward, but even here some of the bureaucracy and miscommunication can make your head spin. It'll be something to fly from Beijing to Mumbai and experience the contrasts.

The great news is I have been in touch with a friend of mine in India and he's going to fly up to Mumbai to meet me. We met when I was in Delhi in 2005. He overheard me making plans on my cell phone to a company in Bangalore and when I hung up, he asked if I was speaking to so-and-so, the PR guy. Turns out Anupam worked in the communications department there. He'd quit a month earlier, moved to Mumbai, was in Delhi for a few days on his way to Calcutta, and we just happened to bump into each other, out of 1-billion people, in a ratty old internet cafe. Cosmic. I'm really looking forward to meeting up with him again and experiencing Mumbai with someone who knows the place.

In the meantime I have to knuckle down again and write. I sketched out a solid outline for one story which should be easy to write, and I've got a start to the other. But I really want to get the China stories mostly done before another exotic culture warps my brain.

Here and there

2006-08-13T02:47:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in an internet cafe typing this out. All the links are in Chinese. I'm just guessing and going from habbit.

I was up at 4:45 this morning to see the flag raising ceremony in Tienanment Square. At the crack of dawn a group of soldiers march out of the Forbidden City to raise the Chinese flag. I thought I was getting there early to grab a good vantage point. By 5 am there were probably a thousand people waiting at the barriers. This is where being a tall foreigner in China comes in handy. I just peered over all the heads. THe soldiers march out in perfect unison at 108 paces per minutes, with 75 cm per pace. The flag went up, they blasted the national anthem out of speakers located all across the square and then it was over.

I'd decided to change hotels to save some cash. After all the "service charges" the old hotel was getting too pricey for me at around $140. Then I got my bill for a small load of laundry they did for me. 50 bucks!!! anyway, through expedia i found a place half the price in a more sterile location west of Tienanment. The upside is it's actually a one bedroom apartment, with a kitchen and washing machine!! And a pool to boot. I walked over and checked in, then went back to my old hotel and grabbed my stuff. That's when I found out the Internet in the new hotel doesn't work with my computer for some reason. (Hense the Internet cafe.) With a cheaper hotel comes an equivilently lower level of English among the staff. How do you say "I need a proxy address" in Chinese? I'm able to Skype out, but not surf the web. Hopefully it'll get fixed tomorrow when the "engineer" comes to work.

Rather than waste time at the hotel I hit the road and decided to check out a weekend market I'd read about. Of course, I forgot my travel guide and map in the hotel, so I had to go by memory. I actually remembered a short series of Chinese characters from the book and when I saw them at the right subway station I knew I was on track. I grabbed a bus that looked like it was going the way I wanted to go. (A single bus ride here is 1 yuan, or 14 cents.) After a longer ride than I'd expected we passed the market so I hopped off to go and hone my pathetic bargaining skills. There were all kinds of knick knacks, a lot of it passed of as antiques. There are company's in China that create counterfeit antiquities, like Chinese coins, vases and figurines, complete with cracks and scuff marks, like when jean companies started pre-fading jeans. That seems wierd to me. I bought a few souvenirs. probably paid too much but it's all relative.

I needed to get some stuff from my e-mail account like numbers and such, so I set out in search of an Internet cafe. My travel guide had warned me that most Internet places have been shut down in Beijing. No kidding. I grabbed taxis and went from place to place, only to find empty spaces where buildings had once been. Then a Beijing monsoon started, or it feels like it. The Chinese are so entrepreneurial. On hot days they hawk ice cream bars (don't ask me how they keep them from melting when all they have them in is an open box) and water. Then the second the rain falls, they switch merchandise and it's umbrellas and rain coats.

While jumping puddles I saw a barber shop. I've been getting kind of shaggy because my sheers won't work over here. I got a cut, which if I think about it was probably my first professional trim since high school. I forgot how great it feels to have a stranger wash my hair...er, my scalp. I got them to use the zero setting on the clippers. That really got 'em excited. Eight employees gathered around my chair to watch. Hair cut: 40 yuan or about $6.

I asked them about an internet cafe by miming someone typing on a keyboard and they pointed me here. Nice place. Serves beer. Some cool Chinese songs playing. But there won't be any pics until I get my laptop hooked up.

Tomorrow I'm going to visit the Great Wall. Very stoked about that.
All for now, ciao.

weeeze

2006-08-12T01:19:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning with a head cold. Nothing like venturing into a muggy Beijing morning stuffed up and sneezing. I think it's the extremes of going from my air-conditioned room to the heat outdoors.

This morning I went to the Summer Palace, essentially a big-ass summer cottage resort built for China's emperors in the 1700s, complete with a massive man-made lake, islands and causeways. A lot of the buildings were closed for renovation as part of the great fix-up for the Olympic games. It was also another smoggy, cloudy day so you couldn't see far.

The highlight was lunch. My host took me to a little restaurant that does Mongolian hot pots. Awesome. They put a big pot and burner on your table. The pot is divided into a spicy chili mixture and a more savoury liquid. Once it's boiling you plop in the food to cook -- things like strips of raw beef and mutton, vegetables, and shrimp. Oh, we also ordered cubes of gelatinized pig blood. It's much better than it sounds, especially when you dip it in the accompanying sesame sauce. It was one of the tastiest meals I've had since I got here.

Today I'm doing some planning for the next leg of my journey -- India. Interviews are finally falling into place for Mumbai. But it's a pain in the ass to get from China to India, let me tell you. I might end up flying Air Ethiopia! There are no direct flights from Beijing to Mumbai, so I'll have to fly to Delhi, then catch a connector.

Peking popcorn

2006-08-11T17:51:00.000-07:00

I haven't seen the sun in three days since I got to Beijing. I don't know if it's just cloudy, or whether it's the pollution. Everything is hazy, so I assume it's more than just storm clouds. The air is thick with humidity. Even at its most muggy Toronto can't touch humidity like this.
I worked at the hotel till about 4 on Friday, then headed out to Tienanmen Square. I can't believe I've been here this long and haven't seen the sights. I made the 1 km hike to the Forbidden City first for a stroll around the grounds. I didn't bother going into any of the buildings yet, I've got time for that later. Besides, I've been told much of the place is closed for renovations leading up to the 2008 Beijing Olympics. But I did get to see the painting of the big guy himself, the Great Helmsman. There were soldiers everywhere in their green uniforms with red patches. But they were vastly outnumbered by the Chinese tourists. That portrait of Mao has to be the one of the most photographed site in China. I bet it rivals the Great Wall in terms of number of pics.
At the gates there are big doors with brass knobs. Men have fondled the paint right off of them. Funny to watch.
Tienanmen Square itself is right across from the Forbidden City. The two are divided by a huge road that is in a perpetual state of congestion. You have to go through a tunnel to get over there. I can't decided whether in real life the square looks bigger or smaller than it does on TV. I often find when I go places that I've repeatedly seen in the movies or on the news that they don't live up to my expectations. But the square is pretty damn big. It's quite a long walk from end to end. You have to dodge some obstacles along the way. First there are the hawkers, selling kites, maps and paper Chinese flags (I caved and bought a few). The bigger hassle was all the "English students" who want to practice on you. In fact, what they do is act very friendly, try to get you to go with them for a drink or food, and then stiff you with the bill. It hasn't happened to me, but I was warned about it. They're usually young couples. And if you talk to them long enough, their conversations all follow the exact same pattern. "Hello, where you from? Canada, nice country, very clean. How long you been in Beijing. Do you like China? Would you like to go with us to tea ceremony?" It's like someone gave them a script to read from. I've found that by telling them I've been to China, say, 20 times, they immediately lose interest and walk away. It's kind of fun to string them along when you're bored.
After a couple of hours I had to leave. I had tickets to see a Beijing acrobatic show. I hopped on the subway (it's a bit grungier than Shanghai's but far less busy, or at least, it was this evening) and got as close to the theatre as possible. The traffic is excruciating here, so it's best to cut down the taxi time by as much as possible.
The show was at the Chaoyang Theatre. It was a neat old place, though the seats were in a severe state of disrepair. But they had popcorn. And good Orville Redenbacher-like popcorn at that. I grabbed a bag and a pop and took my seat.
The show was amazing. I was snapping shots and clapping the whole time. Great music and costumes. You can see where Cirque du Soleil gets many of its performers, and a lot of its ideas. The show lasted about 1 1/2 hours. I'd watch it again in a second.
I was just watching CNN International and the coverage of the terrorist bust in UK, and wondering whether Canada will change the rules on carry on before I return. The airline execs must be rubbing their hands at this. No more carry on food, or drinks, or entertainment. It'll all come from Air Whatever, and it'll cost us.

P.S. I love some of the Chinese signs. I'm posting one I saw near the Forbidden City. I'm assuming it means "No car bombs allowed" which should put all those would-be terrorists in their place. But it could also mean "No burning cars allowed" or "No cars with giant cheese puffs strapped to the roof allowed."

No scorpion virgins here

2006-08-10T04:45:00.000-07:00

UPDATED WITH PICS
Today was a very blah day. Rained on and off all through, and when it rains in Beijing, it pours. I thought it was hail the drops were so big and loud against my window. Rivers ran down the streets. I stayed around the hotel all day working, perfect day for it.
This evening though I was invited out for dinner to have my first Peking Duck. (This is quickly turning into a food blog, isn't it?) The restaurant was called Quanjude, and though it was five stories tall it was already packed by 5 pm. The place is known for its great duck, but not its service. The dishes were brought out backwards, with the duck coming first. Apparently it's supposed to be the last dish. I wasn't complaining.
The duck was brought out to our table on a cart. A masked chef sliced and diced it to pieces in seconds. We ate it by dipping the pieces in a sauce and putting them into what I assume were rice paper shells. Add some onions, roll and viola.
After a while I gave up on the ceremony and just ate it straight off the plate. Melt in your mouth greasy goodness. Each Peking duck comes with a card that says how many ducks have been served since the restaurant opened in 1864. Mine was number 115,148,518. No typos.
There were a few other dishes but the one I was most proud of were the scorpions. They were of the small variety, about two inches long, with their little stingers intact. The Arachnida came on a bed of sesame seed duck and rice cakes. It took me a few false starts. I'd lift the chopsticks to my open mouth, but they'd hit some invisible wall. Finally I just closed my eyes and popped it in my mouth. Crunchy. Not much taste, surprisingly. They're supposed to be good for relieving stress. So they say.

Killing me cheesily

2006-08-09T05:25:00.000-07:00

Ack, I'm in hotel hell. I booked into a place in Beijing called the Tianlun Dynasty. It's in a great location, has a pool, free internet... and a filipino cover band butchering tunes like killing me softly right outside my window. I booked the place online and went for the special summer deal. Hah. Some deal. the place has a big indoor courtyard with fake palms and lots of Westerners sitting on deck chairs sipping drinks. My room faces in to that. They said all the other rooms are full tonight, but I've told them if I don't get an outside view I'm changing hotels. Of course, I've already paid in full for full days, but the good folks at expedia seemed willing to go to bat for me if it comes to it.
Ack, ack. It's a Kenny G. sax solo!
Anyway, on to more fun stuff that looks like it could kill me, too. The food I mean. There's a great strip of food vendors nearby. A veritable smorgosboard of wierdness. I started off light with some lamb and beef kebabs. Then a yummy beef, noodle and salad roll. I saw some kids walk by with cups of bubbling, smoking tea. I found the vendor and watched him drop a white cube of carbonate or something into the cup. Immediately it began to fizz and filled with what looked like dry ice. It was really refreshing. Still feeling peckish after the mushy meal Air China served on the flight up here, I ordered grilled squid. It flopped around on the stick, and was a bit chewy, but the sauce they put on it was tasty. There are lots of other things for me to try. Starfish for one. The vendors kept pointing to bright red crayfish and called them scorpions. Next booth down there's the real thing on skewers, in big and small sizes, right next to the crickets and beetles. I'll have to build up to those I think.

Food 'n stuff

2006-08-08T02:30:00.000-07:00

UPDATED WITH PICS
I've had some great meals over the last couple of days. Monday and Tuesday were long work days, up at 6 and on the road by 7, home late. But the great thing about spending a full day with companies in China is they stuff you with all kinds of great food. It's seen as embarassing here if a host runs out of food for his guest, so to avoid that they prepare 10 times as much food as could possibly be eaten.

At one office on Monday I was told we were going to have a "light meal." There were seven of us around a big revolving table. They started to bring the dishes in, and they just kept coming. 16 in all. There was a huge fish head, several whole fish with white eyes staring at me, congee soups and jelly fish among others. I found one dish in particular very tasty. I asked what it was, and I was told the loose translation was shell fish. I kept munching away, and then looked down at the chunk of meat between my chopsticks and it had toes. Little nails to be exact. Turtle feet. They didn't want to upset me by telling me what it was. Not that I cared. I've seen enough turtles for sale in the markets to realize they weren't being kept as pets.

I had another great lunch with another group today, with chicken feet (they politely listed them as "chicken fingers" on the menu), beef and bok choy in satay sauce, chili chicken, a spicy bean curd and about 5 other dishes.

This hotel has scales in the bathroom. I honestly thought I'd come to Asia and lose some weight. Ha!

On the way back to the hotel just now, I was taken to Zhujiajiao historic town, an old canal-lined town that was protected from modern development. It was nice to wander through. I did a little shopping. and we took a small boat down some of the waterways.
I've got to pack my stuff now and get ready for my flight to Beijing tomorrow morning. My hotel is supposed to have high-speed internet. It's also supposed to be a short walk to Tiennanmen Square.

A long one

2006-08-06T06:26:00.000-07:00

This is going to be a longish post. I started it on the plane to Xi’an on Saturday and I’m finishing it on the way back to Shanghai.

Saturday, Aug. 5: I’m on an Air China flight bound for Xi’an. This plane was built for little people. I thought Air Canada was cramped. The laptop is squished between my chest and the seat in front of me like a ‘V’. It’s only a 2 hour flight so I’ll survive.

I didn’t have any meetings Friday, so after a nice sleep in, I went out to try a bit of shopping. I didn’t get much though. I was on the hunt for a knock-off LV bag for Donna. The Chinese gov’t has taken a lot of steps to stamp out the counterfeit trade – advertisements and billboards say don’t buy fakes, and officials have shut down many of the famous knock-off markets – but it’s just gone further underground. Touts come up to you with catalogs of bags, watches and DVD and invite you to their “store.” I’ve gone with a few and they lead you through winding back alleys and upstairs to rooms packed with goods. Other times shops with regular storefronts will keep the counterfeits in back rooms. One shopkeeper yesterday pulled a table away from the wall, slid a bookshelf to the side, and entered through a secret passage. The problem is the stuff is crap. I found one that I thought Donna would like, but it was scuffed. They went and got me another one, but they couldn’t get the clasp to open. Three guys wrenched on it for 5 minutes until it popped open, then they said with straight faces, “you buy?”

With empty hands I headed over to the Shanghai museum, a very nice exhibition of calligraphy, jade, pottery and paintings. I also went to a city-planning exhibition where they had a scale model of how the city is to look in the next few years.

Last night I hooked up with one of my sources and we went to Face Bar, a Thai restaurant and bar in an old mansion. There were three of us and we ordered a lot of food to share – pad tai, green curry, shrimp, pork, and drank some beers. Then we went to a neighbourhood of bars and had a couple more on the patio. Another expat and his Chinese wife joined us and gave me tips on shopping. The guys who live here have it down to a science. I left around midnight to pack and catch a couple of hours of sleep before waking at 5 am for my flight.

A contact in Beijing had arranged for my ticket, and sent me a confirmation number. They told me to pick up the ticket at the Air China office in the airport. That’s when, for the first time, I was reminded that I was in a Communist country with its uncaring bureaucracy. I showed up at the counter at 6:20 but the guy told me his job was to only sell tickets. The people who handed out tickets that have already been purchased wouldn’t be in until 7, he said. My flight was for 7:50, and a big sign said the check-in would close 45 minutes beforehand. He didn’t have anything else to do, but just sat there yawning. I waited with a huge crowd of Chinese for these people to arrive. There are no such things as lines here, people just clump around their target, so I had to elbow a few people to keep my place at the front of the crowd. Anyway, despite my worries, I made it to the gate just as they were boarding.

As I said, the plane is pretty small. They’re blasting Just for Laughs hidden camera segments over the TV, no headphones. So I decided not to bother trying to sleep.

(I get a kick out of the evaluation card Air China handed out. One of the questions was: "You feel inconvenient in: Flight Unpunctuality? Arrival and Departure? No Complimentary Service?" You know they've got problems when they start with the assumption the flights suck.)

Sunday, Aug. 6: It’s mid-afternoon and I’m just waiting for my China Eastern flight to Shanghai. What a great couple of days. My contact in Beijing who arranged my ticket also had a driver waiting to meet me at the airport. He was a nice guy who spoke quite good English, so as we drove he gave me some info about the region. Did you know this province accounts for 30% of all apple exports in the world? And there are several large mounds of earth you can see in fields, which are royal burial sights. Xi’an is regarded as the cultural heart of China. They’ve also got an awesome highway from the airport to the city, though as I'd later learn it has its flaws.

Before taking me to my hotel, we decided to hit the sights first. We started with the Terracotta soldiers. I've wanted to see them for years, and they didn't disappoint. I spent about four hours wandering through the excellent museum that encompasses the open excavation pits. There are about 6,000 well-preserved bronze soldiers built some 2000 years ago. I’ll post a bunch of photos below.

On the way back to Xi'an we stopped off at the elaborate Concubine's garden. Pretty neat, though it would all mean a lot more if I was Chinese. Apparently at an early age school kids learn the story of how this rather plump lady inspired a great war. It was just a nice place to wander around and imagine what it was like in the days before the swarms of camera-happy Chinese tourists.

On our way back to the city that I learned just what happens when you introduce millions of cars to a country that only 10 years ago got around mostly by bicycle. It started with heavy, slow moving traffic and ended up in full-stop gridlock. After about 30-minutes people got out of their cars to hire local kids to go and buy them water. The problem was exacerbated by a few things. First, with the high price of gas, Chinese believe a car is more fuel efficient if the tank is mostly empty — you know, less weight, better mileage. That’s fine until you’re stuck in traffic and you run out of gas. Many people did. Then older cars started overheating. Everyone had to weave around them. Anyway, we made it, but it took a few hours. The problem turned out to be a crash between a rig and a car. When we drove past six guys, including two cops, were trying to push the rig up a hill.

I stayed at the Hyatt. Ok hotel. They said it was 5-stars. Hardly. I found some great night markets and the food in Xi’an is influenced by the large Muslim population, so there was a lot of mutton on the menu. Very tasty.

Today after a nice sleep I checked out and went for another long walk. It was extremely hot, but I found periodic refuge in the many McDonald’s. I had bought a few souvenirs last night, so I haggled for a bag at the market. I paid $5, which was still waaaaaaay too high. As I sit here, the bag stinks like creosote. Like it's disintegrating right before my eyes.

A huge ancient wall surrounds downtown Xi’an, with a number of impressive gates into the city. I went to the south gate and after mounting the stairs I found a place to rent bicycles for a couple bucks. I got one and rode around the city. I’m not sure of the distance, but it took me a bit over an hour, with a few stops to get out of the sun. It was a one speed bike, a knock off of a Western brand, and I think I displaced a few ribs on the rough patches. There was hardly anyone up there though, which made it even better.

Street life

2006-08-03T16:25:00.000-07:00

thought i'd post a few more pics. I went for a nice walk after work. I love walking down the back streets. It's a real maze, there is no grid to the streets, alley ways lead to more alley ways lead to dead ends, so you turn around, walk back, and look for commotion and head in that direction instead. The streets come alive at around 7 pm, probably because the blistering sun is down. people put out tables of food and chairs and their homes become sidewalk restaurants. I'd love to try some of the food, but my intestines know better. people kept inviting me to sit down and have a drink with them or chat. I hung out with a few people but none of them could speak english. I think they just got a kick out of sitting down with a foreigner. The second you sit down kids come up to you saying "hello" "hello" "hello."

Still sleep deprived

2006-08-02T15:03:00.000-07:00

I have spent a lot of time in the back of taxis heading into the Shanghai suburbs for meetings. They're pretty cheap. A 30-40 minute ride will set you back about 120 RMB, or $17. When you get in the taxi a recorded voice welcomes you and tells you to fasten your seat belt. I've been in a dozen cabs now, and not one of them had seatbelts that worked. It's the thought that counts.

After getting back to my hotel I went out for a bite to eat (a bit bowl of wonton soup and spicy chicken & noodles for 15 RMB or $2) and a stroll around. There's supposed to be a huge market nearby that I've been looking for. I feel the urge to get fleeced by professional hagglers.

It’s Thursday at 6 am and though I've been here for almost a week, my sleeping pattern is still messed up. I've been up since 4 am.

I'll post a few more pics. I saw my first traffic accident last evening. Despite the zaniness of the drivers here, collisions must be rare, because this one involving scooters (I think) attracted dozens of people who crammed in to hear the guy in the red shirt scream at this poor cop. I love the look on his face as he's talking on his phone.

The other pics are just street shots from around the area. One street can be teeming with bicyclists, the next a sea of cars.

Live from Suzhou

2006-08-01T20:48:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this from the back of a taxi, I'll post it later today. It's Wednesday morning and I'm en route to another interview at one of Shanghai's universities.

I had a chance to see some of the areas around Shanghai yesterday. My contact for one of the stories picked me up yesterday in the morning in a Buick minivan and we hit the road, visiting some of his company's operations. You can get around pretty fast here, compared to India where you're always dodging cows. The posted speed limit on the superhighways is 120 km.

In the afternoon we ended up in a city called Suzhou in Jiangsu province, which borders on Shanghai municipality. The place had a heavy Singaporean influence (there's a chunk of land cordoned off that is actually considered Singapore territory, so products can be moved through and qualify as exports and imports for tax purposes).

The Chinese have built a sprawling grid network of four and six lane roadways, perfectly manicured with lush grasses and trees down either side. They still look brand new because they're hardly used. You could stand at one of the intersections, look each way and not see any cars. The idea seems to be: if we build it, they will come.

In fact there are dozens upon dozens of tall apartment buildings erected or under construction in that area. Yet from what I could tell hardly any of them were lived in. Developers put them up either in anticipation of the swelling middle-class, which could show great foresight, or to feed the frenzied real estate speculators. It's probably a bit of both.

We went for dinner at a Mexican restaurant and stuffed ourselves with Fajitas. Nice change of pace. The owner is apparently a former Boeing executive who didn't want to leave China when he was ordered to transfer back to the US.

I also got a chance to visit a Pagoda in downtown Suzhou. I was snapping shots of what I thought was a roaring lion statue honouring a fat Buddha figure nearby, until our driver told me it was actually a garbage can.

We ended up back at the Mexican place for flan and margaritas and to continue our chat. A three-piece band was on stage. We were the only ones there so they invited us up to sing. I belted out Another Brick in the Wall by Pink Floyd, with Chilean back up singers and a Filipino guitarist.

Trippy

2006-07-31T05:39:00.000-07:00

UPDATED WITH PICS

Lunch was pretty good. I find eating out here a bit lonely because Chinese food is best eaten in groups with people shouting across the table and waving cigarettes. The menus are geared to that, with dishes meant to be shared. It's damn good food though, even if I always end up ordering too much.

I just got back in from a visit to the top of the Oriental Pearl Tower, that tall odd looking structure in a couple of my pics with the baubbles and flashing lights. The Chinese love flashing lights. Even in the few areas where there are still clumps of tress, er, parks, they're all decked out with christmas lights.

To get over to Pudong I took the tourist tunnel under the river. My guide book said it was a psychedelic experience, but i wasn't prepared for the wackiness of it. You buy your ticket then head down the stairs. There are blinking disco lights in the floor, and a turn around area for these little stubby rail cars. I got in one alone and set off through the tunnel. All along there were lazer shows, blinking lights, coils of light, and voices, first in English then in Chinese, describing each section like "Hell and Paradise" "Assault in the blue sea" "Meteor Shower" and "Massive Magma." I bet the Chinese will look back on this and groan.

Since I've been here I've known the air was quite acrid, but it didn't seem quite as dirty as I'd imagined. Parts of Delhi were worse, and in other cities like Cairo I could barely breath. But once I got to the tower observation deck the view of the smog was dramatic. It did make for a pretty awesome sunset though.
Tomorrow morning I get up bright and early to spend a day with a source for one of my stories. I'm looking forward to getting some real solid work done, rather than just planning, planning, planning.

Hotel bound on the Bund

2006-07-30T20:18:00.000-07:00

I've been tied up at my desk in the hotel a lot over the past couple of days. That's my excuse for not posting much. While I landed with no firm times for my meetings, and many of my sources seemed to suddenly vanish, today has proved productive. My week is now planned out. Arranging this trip is mind-boggling. I am skedded to be in Beijing, Mumbai and Delhi, yet I don't have plane tickets for any of those cities because I haven't nailed down all my interview times. It's like that chicken and its stupid egg.

Speaking of eggs, I'm hungry now, so I'm going to go out and grab lunch. There's a little restaurant tucked into a side road I passed yesterday that had lots of soups. looked good. i'll let you know.

I've taken to wandering down little back alleys and peeking into people's homes. everyone leaves their doors open. it's another world, just 5 steps the bright lights.

There was a big black humvee parked on one of Shanghai's flashy tourist strips. I have no idea how you navigate a vehicle like that around here. Cars may be everywhere, but the practical Chinese still boot around on their mopeds.

From a second floor restaurant last night I watched a busy intersection for one hour. Yes there were stop signs. No they didn't get much use. At any moment there were cars, trucks, bikes, mopeds and pedestrians criss-crossing in front of each other. In all that time I saw just one bump between two mopeds. No words exchange. They just putted away from each other.

tonight I'm going to head over to Pudong, that's the financial district which isn't actually in Shanghai, but another city altogether. a couple of decades ago it was muddy farmland. Today it's what many of China's other million-plus cities (there are 200 of them)aspire to. I'm going up the baubled tower for what is supposed to be an amazing view of the city.

Oh, by the way, my dad is circumventing the Chinese censors and reproducing this blog on his website, so I can see the comments after all.

Spaghetti for breakfast...

2006-07-29T17:12:00.000-07:00

I think I conquered my jet lag. I did it by walking myself until I was a zombie yesterday. Passed out at 11 pm and was up at 6 bright eyed. Just got back from breakfast in the hotel restaurant, a buffet of bacon, sausage, spaghetti, bok choy and congee soup.
I saw a bit of Shanghai yesterday after getting off to a slow start. The GSM phone I bought in Canada, that I was assured was unlocked, won't work here. I bought another used phone, paid way too much, and it doesn't turn on now either. good grief. I have a SIM card and a phone number, just no phone. I spent yesterday morning dealing with that, and my quest continues today.
It is blazing hot here. Everyone warned me, but it's muggier than Toronto on the worst day of the year. Everyone is soaked in sweat, so I know it's not just me. The Bund (the walkway along the river) is a sea of umbrellas as people desperately try to stay out of the sun.
After leaving the hotel yesterday I walked down the Bund to Nanjing, the famous shopping street. It's a pedestrian only road, like Sparks St. in Ottawa, but about 10,000 times as big and busy. But after a bit I was ready to move on, since the couple of shops I went into were priced way above Canadian prices. (I checked out a photo shop and the guy asked how much I paid for me lens and he was shocked how cheap it was in Canada!?!?) Plus Nanjing is full of prostitues cruising for tourists. Every few meters a girl would come up and try spark up a conversation "You vewy hansum."
I did stop at the McDonald's for an icecream cone. They sell plastic cups of corn kernels. McCorn?
I also hit the subway. Jamie, you'd be impressed. It was busy, but very clean and fast. 3 yuan for a ride (7 yuan is C$1.)
Things change fast here. I looked for a market that my travel guide said was great for luxury knock offs, and wandered around the area for a while trying to find it. Turns out the whole city block was demolished to make way for a tower. Another camera store I'd looked for earlier was the same. Whole block gone.
I did find a nice little park with shade, and heard some strange sounds from the back. A group of retired men and women were jamming under a pavillion, so I stopped and visited and listened. People would come up, bug the musicians to play a song and they'd sing. It was stranegly like high school and playing my guitar in the council room. At one point this old man with liver spots walks up and starts to sing. He was hitting notes I don't think even Freddy Mercury or Hawksley Workman could reach. It was a bit disturbing.
Grabbed a good dinner of sliced pork and vegetables in black pepper sauce. Yummy. And the beer I ordered was a foot tall!!
Last night I took a night cruise on the Huangpo river, met some Chinese tourists from a far off province who spoke about 10 words of English, but we had fun.
Today I'm staying in (except for phone shopping, I'm going to buy a new one and get it over with). Have lots of work to do.
Can't remember whether I mentioned in an earlier post or not, but I can't view this site. The Chinese gov't don't like blogger.com it seems, and they ban access to it. (Don't ask me why I'm allowed to create posts but not look at them.) So comment if you like, but until I get home I won't be able to read them. I heard there's the same ban in India. It's very strange what sites do get blocked here, and there are quite a few. They banned Skype for a while, but it works now. The web sites that talk about the censorship don't though.
I'll post some pics below. For some reason I can't manipulate the photos or give them captions from China, so they'll just flow below.
ciao

I had no idea...

2006-07-28T15:41:00.000-07:00

Yawn, good heavens I'm tired. it's 6:42 am on Saturday. What a whirlwind. My flight over was ok, though Air Canada didn't fail to live up to its reputation -- it was a ratty old plane, the headrest kept falling off my seat and there was no seatback entertainment consoles (just a VHS player that obviously didn't have a functioning tracking button. They tried to show a music video from Bon Jovi, but it kept jamming 3/4 of the way through, so they'd start it over again -- three times.)

The Shanghai airport blows away anything in Canada. Very efficient, my bag was waiting for me once I cleared customs. I had to dash to an interview before the gentleman I was to see left Shanghai for Beijing, so I grabbed a taxi and we headed over.

Again, I couldn't believe how modern everything was. One of the guys I'm going to see gave me a few tips before coming, and number one was "be prepared to say: I had no idea..."

We'd kill for highways like these, and the taxi driver occasionally almost sometimes stayed within the white lanes. I know this is Shanghai and not at all representative of the rest of the country.

I made my interview on time, but only had a quick hour with the guy. Then it was back across Shanghai to my hotel, the Astor House. It's a grand old stone building built in the 1840s. I've got hardwood floors, free high-speed, a king-size bed (though the mattress is so hard you can play it like tom-toms). I have realized though that China blocks certain websites, such as Blogger. I seem to be able to write posts, but I can't see them.

I got about 6 hours sleep last night but was up by 2 am. Time for TV movies! (Hell Boy on your first night in Shanghai is a little wierd).
Today I have to find a SIM card for my phone, get a map, and check out the neighbourhood. (Oh, and write a column that I promised to file to the magazine before I left -- writing about Canadian business on my first day in Shanghai promises to be even wierder than Hell Boy.)

The Astor House Hotel --

Off

2006-07-27T09:56:00.000-07:00

We're at the airport waiting for my flight. I could launch into a rant about Air Canada, because they've already ticked me off and we've only been here for a few minutes. But I'm going to remain calm, Lord knows I have enough other stuff to stress out about.
I woke up this morning and my first thought was "Six weeks, am I nuts?" Perhaps. I'm not wedded to staying away that long, and if things move fast I might come back early. No doubt Donna would love that, but she's been awesome in encouraging me to travel far and wide and explore the country. I'm really going to miss her.
Ok, it's time to go through security now. Next stop, Shanghai (after a gruelling 12-hour flight.)
ciao

The first post

2006-07-19T12:22:00.000-07:00

Greetings all.
At the suggestion of my great pal Jamie Dew I have poked my nose into the world of Blogs to document my upcoming trip to China and India.
This, of course, means none of you are getting post cards.
Instead with my trusty laptop and camera I'll aim to post as many photos and entries as I can during my travels.
As many of you know I'm generally awful at keeping in touch, so this could all go no where fast. But I'll do my best.
ciao
jk

A test photo: yours truly en route to Oregon in our rented Mustang convertible. Whipeeee!