Category Archives: Asia

A collection of travelogues from my trips in Asia, peppered with reviews and recommendations of accommodation, walking tours, restaurants and pubs.

Asia, China, Travelogue

Travelogue China 1: Beijing

BEIJING

21-24 August 2014

We were greeted, as planned, at the airport by our driver from Merry Travel, which was a relief since the last thing we needed after 2 long flights with a 4-hour transit in Dubai in between was to cause an international incident at PEK being lost and tired-grumpy. Risk averted, we met our first tour mates – a lovely Kiwi couple – and climbed into our very comfortable people-carrier, for the commute to who knows where.

First impression of China? It was hot. Very hot. And humid. Very very humid!

Traffic was (initially) not as bad as expected – it was much worse at home! The drive was prettier though, with willow-like trees lining the wide highways, and not a spot of litter anywhere in sight.

Although the driver said that our hotel was very close to the Beijing  airport, apparently it was all relative since the city is 16,800 square km with 24 million people.

This – if we’d done our homework – should have come as no surprise. The enormity hasn’t sprung out of nowhere; Beijing had its first walled city from 11th to 7th century BC, has been a prominent city for millennia and has been the capital of China for almost 8 centuries. It was first on a site called Peking Man, and has only been called Beijing since 1919. The name Peking is Cantonese; Beijing is Mandarin.

We did experience patches of traffic (nothing unmanageable, especially since it was rush hour) and it was marginally more of a liability to us getting to the hotel than the driver’s commitment to driving at 60; likely a legal requirement seeing as we weren’t being overtaken. Eventually we pulled up at the Traders East Side hotel and checked in quickly and easily. The hotel was *very* nice, far exceeding our expectations!

Our 7th floor room was spacious with impeccable decor, twin beds with billowy soft white linen and a large new and lovely en-suite bathroom. The enormous bay window overlook the hotel gardens framed by a public walkway along a riverbank with the cityscape beyond.

The room didn’t hold our attention for long though and we were soon off to find out what our little slice of Beijing had to offer.

We got a city map from the concierge, which was daunting and confirmed that the enormity we’d felt from the car was a reality – what we’d seen was a tiny fraction of this massive city!

We decided to ditch the map and follow the concierge’s advice to walk through the gardens and onto the walkway (which we’d seen from our room) where we’d find activity around the corner.

We did. And kept ourselves entertained with blissfully light-concentration activities like wandering around supermarkets and eating delicious fried egg salad sandwiches rolled and wrapped in bacon (clearly not traditional Chinese fare, but we figured we’d get enough of that on the tour itself).

FRIDAY

Friday morning started early, with a 06h30 wake-up call. Not so bad when there’s a hotel breakfast up for grabs. And this one was complicated! All things to all people, there was a buffet corner for every taste; an omelette station, a stir fry station, a waffle and pancake station; a salad valley, with smoked chicken and duck; a cereal bar with unfathomable yoghurt flavours. So much choice! But beef sausages and turkey bacon, so not necessarily winning on all fronts.

We met our tour group in the foyer at 08h00: mainly Saffas, with 2 Kiwi couples and an Aussie bloke (who turned out to actually be a Frenchman living in Manley). Our tour guide, Mr Lee, took charge and turned out to be a helluva nice guy, who speaks a spot of Zulu from a stint working for the Ackerman family of Pick n Pay fame.

He shared his (fascinating) lifestory of being raised by his grandfather who died 2 months prior at 101 years old, having spent a life practicing Traditional Chinese Medicine, which he’d passed down to his many sons and couldn’t understand why this grandson insisted on as flaky a career-choice as being a tour guide… which must be quite demoralising since our Mr Lee had to study 4 years in university for the pleasure of qualifying to guide our tour! I suspect there must be much of this generation, like our Mr Lee, born after the population curbing policy so being only child brings more pressure to follow in the elders’ footsteps.

First stop was Tian’anmen Square; the largest square in the world at 44,000 square metres (880×500), which can host a million people at a time! We started at the Front City Gate (one of nine city gates) and admired the traditional Oriental pagoda with mosaic roof tiles that looks onto the Square.

We passed Chairman Mao’s Mauseleum, but were advised that the queues are too long to be practical for our tour – 2 hour queue for a 20 second viewing where you can’t even stop or take pictures! But there were enough pictures of the Chairman nonetheless, austere portraits though they may be (not a peace sign pose or duck pout in sight in any of them!), eg at Tian’anmen Gate, the building famed for being where Mao proclaimed the People’s Republic and which is most familiar from always being the backdrop on TV reports when there are happenings on the Square.

We took a few snaps of the Monument of Heroes (erected 1958) with the National History and National Revolution Museums in the background, and moved on.

… into the Forbidden City (or Gugong, as it’s known in Chinese), built from 1406-1421 for the Imperial Chinese power of 2 dynasties over 500 years of tumultuous history, spanning over 72 hectares surrounded by large walls and a wide moat. It housed the royal family only (the Emperor, his family and his concubines) and is gigantic – mostly out of necessity to house the huge families the Emperors had, which came with the territory of having anywhere from 35 to 1000 wives (depending on physical and economic capacity), all the children that came with that gaggle (the first son becomes the succeeding Emperor and his mother the current Empress) and housing many generations together at one time, eg the most well-known, the Ming Dynasty.

The dwelling is a legitimate city because it has all the self-containment and utilities of a city (in a labyrinth of courts, halls, gardens, rooms and allies) and, with 9,728 rooms, it would take 28 years to stay in each of them.

Unlike European palaces, Gugong links art and architecture in subtle forms based on philosophy, harmony and circles of power and influence. The layout of the entire complex and all of its buildings is strictly in accordance with the principles of feng shui – dictating which way things face, what should be next to and apart from what and with such things as lion and lionness statues as gatekeepers – with other more practical infrastructural strategies like the 15 layer city square floor to prevent attacks from enemies tunneling through from below. Equal parts superstition and caution; clearly the yin and yang way.

With only royalty, Generals, bureaucrats, concubines and eunuchs allowed inside – ruling all known civilisation – the goings-on in Gugong were a fascinating mystery to the common people. Now the City is a national heritage site marked for the public, but only to enjoy the gardens and admire the buildings, not for concerts or private events etc.

We couldn’t help but admire all the jade which, since it ostensibly wards off evil spirits, was used to make anything and everything. It is traditional to wear a jade bangle on left arm (because it’s close to the heart) and many women still wear them, apparently often sentimentally handed down from older generations. Crystal, however, symbolises loyalty and faithfulness; ironic since the Emperors placed huge crystals in their wives’ camps… while they were off philandering with their concubines!

All the walking had us very ready for our (optional) Hutong tour; optional because it wasn’t strictly mandatory… but hardly a choice after Mr Lee’s charming hard sell and bargain bundle package offer.

Hutong is a Mongolian word describing the narrow street and alleys (in some places only wide enough to walk one-wide) – or neighborhoods thereof – formed by rows of traditional courtyard residences. The name comes from the times of Kubla Khan (Ghenghis’s grandfather), who introduced the necessity of waterwells in the town. These waterwells were called Hutong in Mongolian language so these collections of houses adopted the name.

These Hutong housed the lower end of society in the very status-driven dynastic period, but today represent the true heart of Beijing. The areas are very intimate because most families live in the same place for 200 or 300 years. Even though the old houses are being renovated and renewed, the powers that be are trying to pull down the hutongs to replace them with practical and space-economical apartments – to the detriment of the residents since, while they own the houses they live in, all land belongs to the government so they can do what they want. The government thus pays for the house, but this is only enough money for the resident to move very far out of the inner city. What was about 2300 hutongs in Beijing now counts only about 220 left.

Our visit to the Hutong included a rickshaw ride through the narrow alleys and a lunch in a local home. Being our first official foray into local cuisine, we had no idea what to expect.

Our group was seated at 3 round tables: 2 in what looked like the main bedroom (the usual fittings – and family members – were, quite unsubtly, stashed behind a sheer curtain in the room) and our table in the living room entrance into the small house. Each seating was set with a small saucer and set of chopsticks as placekeepers and each table had a large lazy susan in the middle.

Soon after arrival, our host placed a large bowl of rice, a plate of mini drumsticks and a plate with green cylindrical stalky veg with chicken strips. While tasty, we were morbidly fascinated by the small lunch and tiny portions allowed by the saucer-sized servings.

Then the plate of beef with onions and peppers arrived. And the boiled spicy cabbage. And the celery with chicken. And the carrots and cabbage stalks. It was a multi-course feast!

We should have expected such good fortune seeing as the house was feng shui: A north house (facing south). This was traditionally so that the south house, which is coldest, is for the servants; the east side for boys and west for girls in accordance with yin yang (girls are yang). There are no bathrooms or showers in the house, requiring use of (particularly disturbing) ablution blocks (with all squat toilets and no cubicles or doors). No wonder that younger people prefer apartments!

The oldies from the Hutong take their pet birds in cages to the park for tai chi in the morning; back to the park in arvie for a game of mah jong, cards or Chinese chess. It’s a full life really (but must be bloody cold in Beijing’s gruelling winters).

But on with the show.

The Temple of Heaven is not a religious temple, but where Emperors went twice annually for rituals of prayer and sacrifice to ensure good harvest for the people and thus retain his mandate from heaven to be ruler of China. It was also constructed between 1406 and 1420, with architectural layout to represent spatially the relationship between Earth and Heaven, with the Emperors in between. The complex spans 274 hectares (a square mile) of park, which is 4x the size of the Forbidden City and 7x Tian’Anmen Square! It contains a palace for preparation and halls and altars for the sacrifice.

It also contains the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests – a main symbol of Beijing, often on cover of tourist books. It is one of three buildings built in the Mingdang style – entirely of wood with no nails – but is the only existing example of this ancient architectural style. Built in 1420, the original hall was rectangular and used to worship heaven and earth. It was later rebuilt in 1545 into a round building topped by triple-eaved roof with glazed tiles symbolising heaven, earth and the mortal world. It was again reconstructed in 1751 to become the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, supported by 4 immense pillars representing the four Seasons and the twelve months of the year.

After 1939, the complex was converted into a public park, with several portraits and exhibits to show the traditions and rutuals.

It was in this courtyard that Mr Lee began our Tai Chi instruction. He explained that your Chi is your air and blood and showed us how to do a selection of the core movements, slowly and purposefully. I hadn’t the heart to tell him that my Dachshund has been doing it for years!

Cultural matters in order, it was time for a spot of commerce. We were taken to a silk factory where we were taken in “Chinglish” (what the locals call what we Westerners call “Engrish”) through the metamorphosis of moth-eggs-caterpillar-moth and what this means for silk production. With 1,300 metres of silk thread coming from a single cocoon, the biology lesson seemed a bit disrespectfully abridged!

We were also treated to a hands-on demo of how the silk thread is transformed into pillows and quilts and all the goodies that cover them. Really indulgent stuff! So soft and smooth and, well, silky.

Closing the day was a live theatre show of Kung Fu Panda, threading an unlikely story of 2 of the world’s most lovable panda bears and their journey to find the masters of Kung Fu, with some pretty impressive displays of fighting styles and traditional weapon (batons, nunchucks etc) control. The Kung Fu performers were all from the martial arts school which spawned legends like Jackie Chan and Jet Li, and a neon screen introduced each set of performers as they took the stage, including details of their qualifications and accolades.

Not usually our scene, but quite enjoyable nonetheless.

Last order of business at the end of a very long first day was a(nother) multi-course / lazy susan / tiny saucer / chopsticks feast, with the now seemingly customary bottle of Coke and 2 quarts of beer for the table to share. Pot of tea to start and finish, but not a whiff of dessert in sight. No wonder the Chinese are so skinny!

SATURDAY

Due to what would seem to be poor planning on the part of the tour organisers, the Great Wall excursion was planned for a Saturday… which we were told meant a particularly early start in order to cope with the weekend traffic of people leaving the city to visit their homes / family / friends in the countryside. You’d think they’d have factored that in and started the tour earlier in the week! No mind, we had an excellent sleep in our very comfy accommodation, a lush breakfast (with every Eastern and Western option imaginable) and Mr Lee rocking the mic in the bus and entertaining us with endless stories and facts.

Serendipitously, the “best jade factory in Beijing” was directly en route to our Great Wall excursion so we were able to stop off and have a gander… which we’d already learnt meant a tutorial, a tour and a per person salesperson shadow, ready to pounce at the slightest hint of interest. Again, we were told this was a government factory, which “guarantees the best quality at the best prices”. Delivered with enthusiasm, to a skeptical audience.

Getting to the Great Wall gathered a busload of excitement. One doesn’t need to know the ins and outs of the Wall’s history and function to know that something that can be seen from out of space is stellar up close and personal!

There are obviously many places from which you can access the Great Wall of China, but ours was everything I expected: entrance through a grand stone gate, up the stairs to the walkway atop the wall, and wall as far as the eye can see in either direction.

Being in a valley, we had to ascend the Wall. We opted for the right hand side as it seemed like an easier route. If it was easier, it certainly still wasn’t easy! The searing 30-something heat with the hectic humidity and the steep and uneven stone steps made for quite a mission indeed. So so worth it though. What a view! What an experience!

What was also nice was having bonded with our group from the first day and catching familiar faces along the route, sharing hints and tips on things to see and best photo opp spots. Lots of requests for photos with Chinese people, who were unashamedly fascinated with us Westerners and seemed to prioritise us over the historical masterpiece on which we were all standing!

We rationalised this as being because with 1,4 billion relatively homogenous-looking Chinese people, concentrated as 24 million in Beijing alone, and with almost all of the many tour busses even being Chinese people, perhaps the 21 of us were a bit fish out of water. We’d also been asked a few times where we’re from and the blank result of our responding “Johannesburg… South Africa… Africa?” indicates that either the language barrier is bigger than imagined, or possibly China is very much a land of Chinese focus.

Brick walls aside, it was really quite something to think that we’ve done something so momentous! Such a pity that so much of the Wall has been destroyed or removed (for people building using the materials to build their homes), but hopefully enough of the remains will be preserved for future generations to appreciate.

We’d built up a healthy appetite, so were very ready for… another lazy susan feast. The monotony of the repetitive meal format was staved (for most people anyway; one of the Kiwis had already resorted to making sandwiches at breakfast to eat for lunch on the bus!) by 3 things: the variation of the dishes served, the disbelief that all of these meals are included in our bargain package and the venues where the meals were served. This lunch was in an Enamel outlet shop.

Cloisonne enamelware originated in Beijing during the Yuan Dynasty and was typically called “Blue of Jingtai” as blue was the dominant colour used. The enamelware was only used for royal families and was a symbol of authority and status.

The enamel-inlayed jewellery and ornaments were very pretty and, of course this was a government factory, which guaranteed the best quality at the best prices…

Back to the tour, we visited the Olympic Green, laid out along a straight promenade (called the Olympic Axis), creating a natural path along which to discover the features and buildings on the parkland. We walked as far as the National Stadium (nicknamed the Bird’s Nest for its distinctive design) and the Beijing Aquatics Centre (a.k.a the Water Cube because of its facade constructed out of thousands of ultrathin plastic pillows, creating a distinct look resembling bubbles).

After a day of much walking, the last stop was quite welcome. We were treated to a relaxing footbath and reflexology (lecture and) session at the Chinese Traditional Medicine centre, where the ancient art was instructed and practiced.

The massage (executed by a student) was pleasant if not a bit pedestrian, but the real highlight turned out to be a “free” consultation with a TCM Doctor. There was lots of diagnosis of high blood pressure and cholesterol, with indecipherable prescriptions written in Chinese, and all the medicines – conveniently for the doctor – coincidentally coming at a 700 Yuan (ZAR 1050) pricetag for a 30 day course… but, naturally, a course is more effective if followed for at least 90 days.

Mom was prescribed 3 different meds, promising to cure everything from swollen legs (thanks to the heat and the Great Wall walk, no doubt) to sleep issues (that would be the just-before-bed coffee) to weightloss (no prizes for guessing this one). I was given a clean bill of health (probably because the doctor spotted my pedometer). Needless to say, we walked out with nothing.

Next event was the acrobats show. Wow! What those people can do with hoops (varying heights, tumbling and backflipping through), umbrellas (whizzing and balancing on toes), bicycles (sit, stand, headstand, grandstand, human pyramid) and the simple human body (crazy contortionist who could lie on her chest on the ground and have her legs run full circles around her head)! Sheesh – what a show!

There was much excitement for the last event of the day – Peking duck dinner!

Mr Lee shuttled us off to a very authentic-looking place (ie there was no English anywhere), and we were soon seated and sipping on a tasty chicken broth. Several courses later, the star of the evening arrived – a golden brown crispy duck that had been spatchcocked and neatly sliced into many delicate slices. The hostess came to the table and demonstrated how to prepare little pancake parcels of duck with sprouts and cucumber and a brown condiment sauce of sorts.

The evening closed with… dessert! Watermelon. What an anti-climax! Although, it could have been worse – in winter the dessert is cucumber!

SUNDAY

The highlight of the tour (for me anyway) was the first agenda item on Sunday morning, the outing to Beijing Zoo to visit the panda bears!

It had rained overnight, so the sky was clear and (uncharacteristically) blue. You don’t realise how subliminally the perpetually smoggy greyness dampens spirits… until it lifts, taking the atmosphere on the bus with it!

Mr Lee gave us a precis on panda bears and their habits, preparing us for the zoo visit. Slothly creatures, they are very antisocial and spend on average 14 hours a day hunting bamboo (not a very energetic exercise since it’s everywhere) and eating it… and the rest sleeping. They have no interest in company nor altering their routine. Apparently there can be some sparring of potential suitors at mating time, but even that seems to be a largely could-take-it-or-leave it affair.

Even though the panda bears are found in the wild in Sichuan – suited because of its rainy climate which provides an abundance of bamboo – the Beijing Zoo is world famous for its collection of panda bears and efforts in preservation. The animals are a species of national pride for the Chinese and, while they are happy to ship off pandas to (qualifying) zoos around the world, it is on the understanding that they are on loan, still belong to China and can be recalled at any time.

The main panda enclosure has 5 adult bears and we were very lucky that all of them happened to be awake at the same time, so we saw all of them! No mean feat since, clearly, they don’t fret about early rising and we’d caught their “morning rush” (all were sitting or lying flat on their back and slowly shoveling bamboo into their mouth) before naptime and a busy afternoon of doing more nothing.

Big beautiful creatures and a wonderment to see them in real-life!

The panda experience overshadowed the ensuing pearl factory visit somewhat. Following the same routine as the other manufacturer tours, we started with an introductory talk, from a very charming hostess called Michelle. I commented to her afterwards on the punny appropriateness of her name and it turned out to be less than coincidence as she’d chosen her English name (lending from a model on a poster on the wall of the store) when she got her job there.

Michelle told us all we needed to know about the 4 colours pearls come in (white, lavender, gold and black) and where what can be found (seawater vs freshwater). It was a very interactive show-and-tell, including the most useful bit – telling real from fakes by rubbing them together and assessing the white residue.

We bought a few obligatory real sale bargains… but nothing compared to our tourmate, Rosemarie, who was a bit of a pearl fiend – already draped in 2 enormous pearl necklaces clasping a large pearl pendant with a pearl brooch the size of my palm to match, 3 or 4 pearl bracelets and 2 large pearl rings. She, of course, had gone big and bought for herself and her giftlist.

Pooped already, it was good to have a chilled traditional Tea Ceremony next. With over 4,000 years of tea drinking, the Chinese have finessed this to a fine art and our hostess did a great job of explaining everything to us.

Tea-making is an exact science that requires not only the right pot (since all tea is made from leaves, not bags) but also the right temperature water, so as to maximise the expressing of the tea from the leaves. To measure the water temperature they use an ingenious little ceramic model called a Pee Boy because the water comes out as a jet – as if the boy is peeing – if it is the right temperature; if not, it doesn’t come out at all.

She expertly scooped, boiled, swirled and poured us a few flavours to try, starting with Jasmine tea which is known as a morning or work tea. The leaves have so much flavour that you can use them up to 4 times over 24 hours.

Next was Oolong tea, which is also known as dragon tea, since it is said to hold the power of the dragon. This tea is served in little cups with a black dragon on the outside. As the hot tea was poured into the cups, the dragon turned red. Oolong is supposed to be slurped, allowing the air taken in with the sip to unlock the flavour of the tea. Oolong is said to be good for circulation, metabolism and iron. But probably not good for your popularity, if slurping away in the open plan at the office.

We also tried Puer tea, which is the national tea in China, as well as the fruit tea which can be served hot or cold.

All tea is supposed to aid digestion, so it is served before and after meals. The tea awaiting us at the table when we got to lunch was nowhere near as fancy as the tea house’s offering though.

The group all knew each other quite well by now, so there was much excited exchanging of stories from the morning’s experiences – and strategies for the afternoon’s excursion… shopping in Silk Alley.

China had an indelible reputation for big brand shopping, which constitutes a combination of products liberated from the factories (originals swiped by workers), factory rejects, copies (fakes) and downright rip-offs. The secret is being able to tell the difference between them!

Mr Lee has lost credibility on guaranteeing us the “best deals” from our inkling suspicion that perhaps the dealers might be chosen per kickback! He was an excellent showman though and spun a good yarn about getting us on the inside of the (very) limited access “red button” backroom in the top shops in Silk Alley to buy electronics, jewellery, leatherware, accessories, luggage, you name it!

Our experience in the red button room was short-lived, thanks to my salesperson getting unwarrantedly hysterical and pushing my buttons (red and otherwise) within a minute of our arrival. Being as spoilt for choice as the 7 floors of shops (peddling the same merch) allowed, my capacity for the banshee was exactly zero, and we were soon on our own mission and haggling and bargaining up a storm! … and managed to secure an excellent deal on the genuine leather (Chinese brand) luggage set we’d spotted in our hotel shop and been hankering after.

The bargaining for the luggage had been a long and tedious process, leaving little time for other shopping in Silk Alley, which worked out in our favour as the next stop was also a shopping excursion at another multi-storey factory outlet mall. The second mall was cheaper than Silk Alley presumably because it was a more informal so avoided the fixed costs associated with the formal shop set-up.

We had a whale of a time in the factory outlet! Surprisingly, Mother bought very little, but I more than made up for that and, never being ones to give up, we passed on the return journey to the hotel, opting instead to stay and shop. We made plans with some of our friends to meet at 5, then again at 6 when we still had a full floor to go, and ended up leaving closer to 7, having exhausted the will to shop and committed to the idea of foraging for dinner.

In an effort to keep it simple, we broke convention and had a not-very-traditional McDonald’s, but it was made ever more complicated by a ridiculous out of stock of bacon, lettuce and chicken situation. Double cheeseburger meals were fine though and gave our slimmed-down little group of 5 a chance to roundtable on the day’s achievements and the evening’s plan.

We decided to walk back along the main road we’d come along on in the bus to try and find the famous gigantic TV screen. Relying on memory, we thought it to be only a few blocks away. When we were a few more than a few blocks away, we realised we must be on the wrong track. We managed to flag down a cab (not mean feat on the very wide roads with fast-moving traffic), but the car would only take 4 people, so we sent Mother with Rosemarie and Johan, leaving Nelson and I to see the rest of the city on foot with a good walk back to the hotel.

It took a good hour or so, and pushed it to an 18,000+ step day, more even than the Great Wall day which was only 16,000! Slept like a baby after all that!

And then it was off to Suzhou.

Asia, Hong Kong, Travelogue

Travelogue Hong Kong 4: Hong Kong Island & Kowloon

HONG KONG ISLAND & KOWLOON

27-31 March 2014

Having pre-booked our ferry transfer to Hong Kong – for a very civilised 10h30 – our evac from Macau was quick and painless.

The breakfast buffet was quite different to the previous day, sadly missing the things we favoured (quiche, aloo curry, baked beans with sausage medallions) but still with enough basics (bacon, chicken sausage, eggs etc) and some new additions (French toast) to sate.

Fascinating to watch the bizarre combo of things such a diverse cross-section of people choose at these buffets. Not at all uncommon to see a single plate with a small portions of scrambled eggs, bacon, noodles, cooked veg, dimsum and fresh fruit… all eaten with chopsticks! Toast doesn’t seem to feature – likely because it can’t serve as the delivery vehicle it does when you’re using a knife and fork.

Chopsticks must be a nurture art of practice, as we discovered when the little Chinese boy (no more than 4 or 5) alone at the table next to us dropped something through his chopsticks onto his plate, setting off a domino effect that resulted in his glass of milk landing on his chair next to him and rolling onto the floor. He froze and his eyes went so big they were almost round! He was on the edge of tears. We quickly rounded up all the serviettes on our table and helped him dab most of it up, so by the time his mom got back from the buffet a minute later, there was little evidence of the carnage from the recent milk tsunami. Obviously the little chap wasn’t one to keep secrets though and soon mom was smiling, head-bowing and rapid-fire Chinesing obvious gratitude to us.

The ferry ride was quick and comfortable – and again, completely full – and an hour later we were deposited at the Hong Kong Island Central Pier.

First order of business was to collect our apartment key from our host’s tea shop, which a Google Maps search had indicated was two rights and a left from the station. Sounded easy enough… until we realised, as we had in Taipei, the station has several exits in different directions and starting the instructions with “head East” wasn’t largely helpful when your luggage is all shoes and no compass! So we jumped in a taxi, which took us exactly 1 block parallel to the station, but was worth the R45 to save the anguish of wandering aimlessly on the busy streets with our considerable luggage in tow.

The girls in the teashop revealed that our host was currently travelling in Shanghai, but were able to give us the apartment key, directions and instructions to leave the keys with the 24 hour doorman when we were due to leave on Monday morning (a relief to not have an extra chore to drop off keys as we were headed to the airport at 5am).

The directions were easy enough and we were soon at our apartment in Hollywood Street (famed for antiques shop and opposite the famous Man Mo Temple), with the only challenge being the 120 or so steep steps up Ladder Street to get there. Although it could’ve been way worse, seeing as Ladder Street continued to ascended as far as the eye could see!

Our apartment was tiny – no bigger than my bedroom at home – but well apportioned. Newly renovated and with TWO balconies (a long one running the length of the flat overlooking the street and a smaller square one running the width of the flat, off the side nestled into the building above the entrance hall), which has to be a coup in Hong Kong.

The bedroom was no more than an alcove built around the double bed; the bathroom a glass sliding door off the entrance passage with a shower, loo and basin. The kitchen area was a double cupboard with under-counter fridge, 2 plate stove on one side and small sink on the other. A convection oven the size of a small microwave sat on a rolling trolley island. Just enough to be able to do anything you need to do, not enough to really want to do anything. Presumably the locals have as big an eating out culture as the Taiwanese.

We put our bags down and hit the town, first port of call being to find the Gieves & Hawkes store in the International Finance Centre (commonly known as IFC) mall to collect Christian’s suits. Luck was on our side and our rough plan to head towards the water and take it from there serendipitously led us directly to the mall, and the store was at the top of the first escalator as we entered. More fortunately, the suits were perfect and looked great on! We asked the attendant to hang onto them so we could do a bit of sightseeing unencumbered and pick them up en route home.

We were in no particular hurry so, since we found ourselves at the central terminus, decided to take a bus up to The Peak, a shopping mall with viewing deck. As the bus wound up the mountain, the cars got flashier and the entrances more impressive. Clearly, the better the view, the higher the price tag!

The Peak Mall was nothing special in itself – perfectly lovely, with lots of restaurants and high-end shops – but boasted a rooftop terrace with gorgeous views of the far side of the island, as well as Lamma Island and Lantau (where we started our trip).

At the base of the mall was a viewing deck for the Victoria Bay side of the Island, with a winding walking path to get varied vantage points. Great spots to take pics (and selfies of course).

The Peak Tram runs from top of the walking path and had been recommended to us to try. We thought it would be a tourist activity but, based on the bussle and jostling, it appears to be a popular public transport alternative. It’s HK$28 for the tram as compared with the bus at HK$9.50, but only takes a couple of minutes – belting near vertically down the mountainside – versus the bus winding slowly and gently upward for 45 minutes.

Alighting at the end of the line, we consulted the map to see that we were at the end of the Causeway, which meant we had to walk the length of the pier to get back to IFC.

Hong Kong Island is easy to move around using a set of wide pedestrian skywalks that interlace all the malls and buildings, so you don’t need to contend with the shops and cars while getting from place to place. Since everyone seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere, this must be a godsend!

We navigated through the skywalks and back to IFC. We stopped en route to the suit shop to grab a sundowner at Liberty Exchange, a swank bar full of banker and stock broker types (and not an Oriental face in sight). The chap next to us at the bar spotted us to be tourists immediately and introduced himself. Of course, he turned out to be a Saffa – a chef who has been on HKI for 10 years and is now, funny enough, looking to move to Taipei. He’d never been there and we’d never been here, so we shared insights on where to go and what to see.

Suits in hand, we manoeuvered back to the apartment to drop them off and head out for the evening, to check out Wan Chai, which is infamous as the playground of the Sevens since it’s so close to the stadium.

The MTR metro system was particularly simple to master since it’s a single straight line that runs the length of the bay, so we were soon at our destination and being swept up in the throng.

The road is a mess of bars and clubs spilling onto the streets with touts and hostesses willing people in as they attempt to pass by. Lots of neon signage with flashing icons and logos fighting for visual attention. And lots and lots of lager louts soaking it all in and allowing themselves to be lured along a bar hop. Not surprisingly, most of the clientele was English, Irish, Aussie and Kiwi with the odd Saffa group.

We did a tour of the road – careful to avoid the notorious girlie bars with their curtained entrances (and unscrupulous billing tactics!) – concluding with dinner at the curry den at the top of the street.

FRIDAY

Friday had been allocated to Kowloon exploring, with no rush to head out since our Saffa friend had warned that HK is a city that starts late (11ish) but ends same. It was a simple journey since it’s only a few MTR stops from Central Station on Hong Kong Island to Mong Kok on Kowloon and we were deposited right at the entrance to the Ladies Market, which seemed as good a place as any for our sightseeing to begin.

Kowloon is grimy and cluttered. Not dirty exactly – obsessively swept so there’s no litter or garbage – but just a general grey and dingy feel. The buildings are completely unmaintained , which probably adds to the overall impression, along with the general clutter that comes along with so many people in such a confined space (to the point that someone told us that, should a fire break out in Kowloon, there wouldn’t be enough space in the streets for everyone to evacuate). Despite the impression our shopping bags might present, we were underwhelmed by Kowloon and keen to get back to the Island.

By stark contrast to Kowloon, we spent the evening in SoHo, which was made infinitely easier by our Saffa friend’s revelation of the world’s longest operational escalator, which runs up the hill through SoHo (or our adventures might’ve been severely hampered if relying on us ascending the steep – and seemingly endless – stairs on Ladder Street in foot!)

SoHo was teeming with people. Every establishment had loads of patrons – all Westerners – and there were restaurants themed to every nation and menu imaginable. Bars overflowed onto the central walkway and restaurants occupied every square inch of the little terraces carved out on the side streets. Very upmarket, with most dressed to the nines; proper inner city cosmopolitan with people clearly only arriving as we were finishing up for the night.

Our weekend itinerary had been dedicated to the Hong Kong Sevens Rugby tournament, so we were bleak to wake up to dark skies and rain on Saturday morning. We hadn’t yet managed to secure tickets – but were confident, based on popular opinion, that we’d get from touts around the stadium – so reconciled ourselves to the possibility of watching Saturday’s games in a pub and going to the stadium on Sunday rather. With new optimism for our win/win plan, we headed to our local, The Cottage Gastropub, for a breakfast pizza. What a great idea putting sausage, bacon, mushrooms etc on a pizza and topping it with fried eggs!

The combination of pizza and the spirit in the bar (which was of course showing the Rugby) we used a gap in the rain to dash out and head in the direction of the Hong Kong Stadium.

As soon as we surfaced from the subway station, we were approached with tickets for sale. Not wanting to be duped into fakes, we decided we’d only consider buying tickets right outside the stadium, where their validity could be verified at the gates. And there was no shortage of opportunity – lots of scalpers… and, weirdly, a good few people with “tickets wanted” signs. Why didn’t the people looking to buy, just buy from the hordes of people trying to sell to us? Justified our paranoia!

It was really easy to find the stadium: just follow the crowds and the loud cheering. Apparently, the weather hadn’t deterred the fans nor dampened the spirits!

On arriving at the stadium we saw the fanpark across the road and decided to give that a gander before committing to tickets (by now it was about 1pm, so we’d missed the first half of the day’s play thanks to the rain). The fanpark was brilliant! We managed to get ourselves a pair of pints and a prime-sited cocktail table – under a big umbrella – right alongside the main big screen, probably because we’d arrived during the break in play for lunch.

By the time play resumed, so had the rain and we were thanking our lucky stars for the umbrella, crushed in alongside our new friends (2 Englishmen based in Hong Kong and 3 Irishmen dressed in matching tutus and candy-coloured wigs). True to form on what we’d heard about the Sevens, it was lots of beer and laughs loosely set to the sporting backdrop. Spirits were high all round and the dress-up makes for superlative people-watching. What a fun way to spend an afternoon!

SUNDAY

Sunday morning was rainy, so we hibernated with our leftover Pizza Hut duo (we’d secured en route home the night before) and TV. Really good to get in some downtime on the last morning of what had turned out to be a hectic holiday!

At noonish we up and outed to the Sevens Fanpark at Central Pier. It was quite different to the one we’d been at on Saturday, with a funfair set-up as well as the big screen and food/drink stalls. Speaking the testament of the game stalls, there were lots of stuffed animals interspersed in the crowds and regular intermittent whoops of completely non rugby-related delight. A completely different vibe to the day before, but equally fun.

We rounded off the outing with a late lunch at SuperSuper – a fitting conclusion since it’s the same chain we’d had our first local meal at in Discovery Bay.

Then it was home to pack, which was easier than it could have been since Christian had bought a new suitcase (as well as the suits, our shoes and a bunch of other things). The bright side about our postage stamp apartment is that it was easy to pack up since nothing was more than a generous arm’s reach away!

We had been very lucky all afternoon since it had been quite clear of rain, then poured down while we were packing and, since it had stopped again, we thought we’d take advantage of the good fortune and take a walk up to SoHo for a farewell bite. With nothing even vaguely traditional tugging at our conscience, we threw caution to the wind and chose a cosy little Mexican restaurant, positioning ourselves at a corner counter window seat so we could watch people (helter-skelter, as it was raining again) on the main passageway as we ate our burritos, tacos and nachos.

An eye of the storm gave us enough opportunity to get home, via 7Eleven to grab chocolate milk and TimTams, the holiday snacks of choice – and the wisest nightcap option with our super-early start for the morning.

After a restless night, worried about sleeping through the alarm, we were up at 4.45. We were also worried about not finding a cab so early so had built in a bit of fat in case we might have to walk to the station (which we’d timed to be 8 minutes sans luggage). Turned out to be unnecessary and after a 2 minute wait, we were able to flag down the first cab to pass, right outside our apartment block.

Central Station is brilliant – the ticket office opens at 05h30 with the first Airport Express train at 05h50. The cherry on the top is the bank of airline desks where you can check-in and book through luggage. Genius! Except Emirates only opens at 7, which would have been too long a wait for checking into our 08h25 flight… and a good thing we hadn’t planned on doing that since our flight had at some point, unbeknownst to us, moved forward an hour to 07h25. We were very tight for time and in the sticky situation where any possible Plan B would take longer than the Express train!

Amazing how slowly time moves when it’s 05h35 and you realise you’re short an hour. And you’re waiting for the 05h50 train.

Amazing how quickly the minutes fly by when you’re on the train and the 06h25 check-in time is approaching.

We were very fortunate that the train deposited us right at the entrance to Terminal 1, and right outside Row G, as required. After a mad dash, 3 suitcases wheeling madly, we got to a blessedly non-existent queue and were checked in with no more than a minute to spare.

A happy ending (were it not for sacrificing breakfast at the airport in the time-crunching process) indeed.

Asia, China, Travelogue

Travelogue Hong Kong 3: Macau

MACAU

25-27 March 2014

It was a very early start for us to get to the airport in Taipei for our 07h55 flight. Fortunately, our timing meant that the roads were pretty empty (but we still had no trouble flagging down a taxi on Xinyi Street even at our 05h15 departure from Honey’s flat.

When we got to the check-in desk, the attendant told us the flight was full. I readied for a fight as we’d even pre-booked specific seats online… I was surprised and delighted when it was revealed that the implication of the overbooked flight was an upgrade for us to Business Class. Winner!

It was such a blessing as we were bushed from our jam-packed  weekend and early start, so being able to make the seats into an almost horizontal bed – and being given a real pillow and duvet – made for a very comfortable snooze on our flight back to Hong Kong.

On arrival, we had to catch a bus from the airport into Hong Kong to get the ferry to Macau at 12.15. The ferry ride is an hour and every boat while we were there seemed to book to full, with boats every 15 minutes around the clock. That’s a lot of traffic!

Arriving in Macau, it was the old routine: draw local currency from an ATM, find the tourist desk, get a map, call a taxi. Easily done and soon we were off to our hotel, the Regency. We’d chosen this hotel specifically for its location, on the coastline at the Taipa end of the bridge that connects the island to mainland Macau. This would provide us a central location with easy access to Macau to our north, Taipa around the hotel and Coloane to the south.

Taipa and Coloane were previously 2 separate islands, which have now been connected with an expanse of reclaimed land that has been named Cotai. Not only does this provide more land and the convenience of being able to move between the previously separated islands, but they’ve also added the Lotus bridge to Zhuhai Shi city in China for easy access to and from there as well. With the inevitable dependence of islands on mainland for supplies this no doubt is a big win for the Macanese.

Also, 94% of the population is Chinese – although you’d never say such a small percentage are foreigners  since all signage is in Chinese and Portuguese as standard (and often in English and French as well on advertising messaging). After checking into our hotel and getting settled, it was already 3pm, so we decided the flight path to be a taxi to drop us at the very southern tip of Coloane, where we’d have a bite and then wind our way back up, catching a bus or taxi whenever made sense.

The drive showed us a lot of 2 things: construction and casinos! It looks like there are lots of massive developments on the go, with enormous  hording and flocks of cranes. The casinos were plentiful, stupendous and garish with outsized statues, fountains, columns etc and the promise of enough neon to make nighttime as bright as day. It was like being a Lilliputian in a very kitsch Gulliver Land. Very easy to see why Macau is often called the ‘Las Vegas of Asia’.

The taxi dropped us at Cheoc Van Bay, where we expected to see a row of beachfront shops and restaurants. There was nothing of the sort. A pleasant stretch of beachfront, a public pool, a tea house and (fortunately) a terrace café overlooking the sea, where we had a great bacon and pepperoni pizza (not very traditional, but very necessary).

With a new lease on life, we took a walk around the western peninsula and into Coloane Village, which is little more than a few houses, a small town square, some stilt houses… and Lord Crow’s Bakery, where we indulged in locally-famed Pasteis de Nata (Portuguese egg tart).

Catching the bus was easy as it was right outside the bakery and almost all routes went past our hotel. It was only 4 Patacas (about R6) each for the journey, a bargain at the price as it slowly wound around the side of the island we’d not yet seen, so doubled as a tour (including great views of China across the channel). The taxis aren’t expensive either, costing us less than R50 to get from the pier to the hotel and less that R40 to get from our hotel across the full length of Taipa and Coloane. The currency is completely interchangeable at 1:1 with Hong Kong Dollars (you can pay in HK$, but will only ever get change back in Patacas) and everything is marked with the $ sign, even though they mean Patacas.

We got off the bus earlier than planned, jumping off at Sam Po Temple for a sunset walk around Taipa Village, and to scope out prospects for dinner. We’d set sights on Rua de Cunha, which the tourist brochures had all earmarked as the foodie street, but it was all bright neon, too many people and a bizarre number of the same bakery chain stores a few doors apart from each other (like 7Eleven does), all selling the same things. Having decided against eating there and noticing pubs conspicuous in their complete absence, we meandered back toward the hotel.

We found a brilliant Korean restaurant at which to have dinner and tucked into a feast of roasted pork belly, smoked and glazed duck and a deliciously rich tomato and onion beef stew. We had ordered everything together, but it was served as courses, which worked out rather well!

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday was dedicated to exploring Macau. The historic centre includes the oldest western architectural heritage on Chinese soil today, interspersed among Macau’s traditional Chinese architecture and traditions. Historically, Macau has been an important gateway through which western civilisation entered China over 500 years ago, when Portuguese navigators in the mid 16th Century and developed it into an international trading port. For almost 3 centuries, until Hong Kong was colonised in 1842, Macau’s strategic location at the mouth of the Pearl River offered unique position to the South China Sea, serving as the hub of maritime trade – and bringing people of all sorts of nationalities, which have left their marks in and around the old city.

The tourist maps made the plan quite simple, with 25 “must see” points of interest winding their way on a manageable course from the south (at the other end of the bridge that run from in front of our hotel) up as far as the middle of the island then cut across to Guia Hill, which was conveniently adjacent to the ferry port so we could book our tickets back to Hong Kong and then conclude with sundowners on the Fisherman’s Wharf.

We set out at 11am and spent 3 hours exploring the 12 churches / temples / cemeteries, 4 fortresses / old city walls, 3 squares, 3 buildings of interest, a library, a theatre and a garden. While some points of interest are more points than interests, it’s a manageable walk following a logical route, so worthwhile seeing the lot. We did finally get in a gondola ride (after 2 false starts with both the Lantau and the Taipei ones closed for maintenance) – and a bargain at the price of 3 Patacas (R5) each for a return ticket. We ended up ditching the return as the walk down from the lighthouse at the top spat us out neatly at the Pier, as we’d planned.

We were able to pre-book our ferry to Hong Kong for the next day (for the princely sum of 159 Pataca (R230) each, so the wheels were in motion to move on the next day at 10.

Our traipsing had worked up quite an appetite so we headed over to the Fisherman’s Wharf, having decided that a Portuguese seafood meal would make the most sense in context (and provide a break from the fare of late). Easier said than done. We were shopping between conventional mealtimes and all the kitchens were closed! We found a Thai restaurant open though and had a lovely red curry duck and pork with morning glory and rice sticks (noodles), run on the water’s edge overlooking the wharf, bay and bridge.

We decided to see what all the fuss was about, so caught a taxi to Cotai to the Venetian, which had been recommended to us by the Aussie on Elephant Mountain in Taipei. Everything he had said paled when we experienced the real thing. New words have to be created to describe the enormousness, the stupendity, the opulescence of the casinos!  They are each and all buildings grandiose beyond belief, clustered with ridiculously mammoth adornments and goliath features. A complete sensory overload. Like Vegas + Times Square + Dubai. In one place. At one times.

Then you go inside.

And everything’s multiple volumes.

With marble floors and chandeliers.

It’s like Liberace has been reincarnated into a suburb!

And it is a suburb because all of the casinos interlink with passages and walkways, seamlessly taking your journey from game floor through food courts, through world label shops (lots and lots of watches and diamonds, must be the impulse purchase if choice for gamblers) and fancy restaurants and hotels and, um, gondola rides. Back at the Venetian. Time to go home. Not getting tangled in this web.

Dinner was a far more modest affair. We found a diner called Brilliant Gourmet close to our hotel and had a Seafood Baked Rice (al forno cheesy seafood number with rice instead of pasta) and Christian a super-legit beef curry. No ambience whatsoever in the restaurant – no music, bright lights, laminated menus and enlarged food pics on the walls – but an amazing meal, with Tsingtao to wash it down.

Macau? Glad to have seen and done it.

Asia, Taiwan, Travelogue

Travelogue Hong Kong 2: Taipei

TAIPEI

21-23 March 2014

It may seem extravagant to wedge a holiday within a holiday, but when you figure how far we are from home and the comparatively small hop it is from Hong Kong to Taiwan, it seemed foolish not to! Especially not when I’ve been promising my friend, Honey, for 8 years that I’ll come and see her!

We could not have asked for a better start to the day. Having intentionally slept with the curtains open, we awoke to the gorgeous mountain view from our 8th floor room (glass windows from floor to ceiling and wall to wall) at the Auberge in Discovery Bay on Lantau Island. The weather had held nicely – although gotten a bit chilly – so we could see for miles and miles; the bay directly in front of us and to the left, the community encircling it and the mountains as a back drop.

Breakfast was another lavish affair, with variants of the same formula as the previous day. We ate our fill to fuel up for the journey ahead, which began with an easy connection bus from the hotel’s entrance (using our Octopus card, still on the same R100 we’d loaded at the beginning of the day before!). Hong Kong International Airport is easy to navigate, but huge, so it was good to arrive well in time so we could amble through the process of checking in and getting to our gate in time for our midday flight.

An hour and 40 later, we were landing in Taipei. Being well past lunchtime and with plenty of time to get to our 5pm meet-up with Honey, first order of business was the food court.

I’d been operating on the assumption that we’d immerse in local culture (which really only means food) as we normally do… but it’s quite hard. Everything is so foreign! That might sound obvious, but the addition of the so-unfamiliar Chinese writing leaves you unable to even sound things out, let alone attempting to translate or speak back.

We buckled and got McD’s. With a little more time and less pressure, the restaurant option mysteries started to clear. No regrets on the burgers, but I’d quite like to have tried the Japanese cheese curry (not paneer, a curry with a cheesy sauce). Still not traditional in the “when in Rome” sense, but intriguing nonetheless.

We decided to get a taxi into town since it was the NTS (Taiwan currency, we believe stands for New Taiwan Dollar) equivalent of R350 and the combination of public transport it’d have taken to get to City Centre would’ve been damn close to that for the two of us.

We thought we were quite shrewd, avoiding potential language issues with the driver by getting a tourist map and circling our destination to point at… but were concerned when we were deposited at stipulated destination and there was no “big Starbucks directly opposite” as per our arrangement with Honey! Turns out we’d erroneously circled Daan Park instead of Daan and were a block off.

We of course, didn’t figure this out immediately and there was some mild panic of us being completely lost with no idea of where we were going and our only means of contact with Honey being Facebook but we had no wifi access! And even though all the signs are bilingual, the Chinese symbols are so foreign that it’s completely visually cacophonous and you have as little idea of  where you are as you have of where you are supposed to be!

It was a joyous reunion when Honey did find us (as it always is with old friends… and especially when you’ve been lost in the prequel!) and a delight to find that her apartment was literally across the road from our meeting point. A great apartment too! A little free-standing cottage plonked on top of an apartment block, too cool! We got the tour, which was less of the studio and more of clambering over the pipes and stuff on the roof to see the spectacular views in all directions – including the famous Taipei 101 building at the end of our road, off to right and even clearer than the Sagrada Familia had been from our apartment in Barcelona!

Honey was kind enough to plan to vacate her studio for our exclusive use, necessitating some minor housekeeping for our handover.  Starting with instructions on where to find the key (in the drawer at the entrance way), with the option to just leave it in the door if easier (on the outside! even if we’re out! Taipei is *that* safe) rather than running the risk of locking it in accidentally with the slamlock door. We were also advised that no toilet paper gets flushed – ever! – which would take some getting used to. And, on the fun side, tutored on how to operate the mozzie-fritzer electrocuting tennis racquet.

We then accompanied her on the trip to the laundromat (to tumbledry the bed linen) and got in some beers at the local 7Eleven, joking that we’d have to do a 7Eleven pub crawl like in Khaosan Road in Bangkok! Inner city living with so many people has its conveniences –  amenities are close and service quick – and we were done and heading out for the evening within the hour.

Honey had arranged with some friends to meet at Hooters and we were soon enjoying a hearty welcome with pitchers of beer and deepfried delights. A really nice bunch of people, warm and welcoming, with plenty of questions about how we came to be in Taipei and lots of advice on what to see and do while here. We had a fab time, with lots of laughs over the hulahooping competitions being held periodically over the course of the evening.

The decision was then made to move on to a bar called On Tap, where we stayed for the rest of the night socialising, enjoying the 80s music, playing the (very PG) cardgame Uno, glugging (the very unimaginatively named) Taiwan Beer and knocking back Christmas In Your Mouth (a shooter creation with cinnamon, hence the name) and vodka jellybabies. A great (and long) night had by all! … and, as we were told it would be, easy as pie to hail a yellow cab – any time day or night anywhere in the city. Fortunately this fella wasn’t watching a DVD while he drove, as was the chap who’d brought us to On Tap!

SATURDAY

Saturday morning began – after a long lie-in and a big bottle of water – in the afternoon. Happy to have slept the morning away and feeling human again, we hit Subway for breakfast (at now lunchtime) and walked the length of Xinyi Road Section 3 to have a close up look at the Taipei 101. Surprisingly, lots of the shops weren’t open and, fortunately, there wasn’t the mad crush of people we’d anticipated would come along with a Saturday morning in town.  It was still a decent walk though, being a lot further away than it looked. I guess 101 stories of building can create that kind of optical illusion!

The Taipei 101 broke records in 2004, with tallest structure height of 508m, tallest roof at 448m and tallest occupied floor at 438m. It also had the fastest elevator (1010m per minute) – it takes only 37 seconds to get to the viewing deck on the 89th floor – and the coil from it is now mastered into a sort of balled artpiece at the entrance. Honey shared with us the cheat to bypass entrance fees by faking a visit to the Starbucks right near the top, but we passed and opted to just stamp our passports with the commemorative stamps in the lobby.

Back at the apartment, Honey called to update us with the day’s plans, which began with us catching the MRT from the Daan station to meet her and Shawn at Dongmen Station. Complacent now that we felt we knew the lay of the land, we had no trouble getting to Dongmen, but soon realised with horror that there are 8 exits from the station and we hadn’t made a plan in which one was the meeting point! Honey and Shawn had had the same realisation – probably at around the time we had – and luckily our “staying put” plan worked perfectly with their “split up and spread out” plan and we were soon happily reunited and jumping in a yellow cab and off to our next adventure.

… which was the perfect calm to ease us into Day 2 – Honey’s friend’s baby’s 1 year birthday party, in the southern suburbs so we got to see the other side of town (where Honey works). We were by now – thanks to our longer-than-planned walk and the Dongmen shenanigans – 2 hours late for the party, which turned out to be a good thing as we got quality time with the hosts and selected guests of choice.

We went straight from there to the Tong Hua Street nightmarket to grab some grub. Too awesome! Lots of fun, exciting and often indeterminable nibblybits! Highlights were the sausage on a stick butterflied and stuffed with spring onion, the deepfried battered prawns and pineapple, 2 types of deepfried mushrooms (neither look like ours at home) and squid balls… and the orderly 1-way pedestrian system that made moving through the bustling market easy and pleasant. Pineapple chunks (sweeter than home, tasting almost like undiluted cordial) and toffee strawberries (like toffee apple, but strawberries) for puds. All deeelish!

Honey had done a spectacular job of social butterflying for us, so it was soon time to scuttle off in the direction of her friend’s Greek restaurant, Yiamas, for a comedy evening with more of her friends. Lots of fun and laughs… especially when the (pseudo) magician duo were using props from random items on patrons’ tables for their skit and they happened across Shawn’s gun – a very convincing looking plastic number he’d won in the carnival at the market.

Then the coup de gras for the evening – around the corner to a gem of a place called Bob Wun Daye to watch a Taiwanese ska band. They were really truly excellent! And the venue was perfect – long, narrow, cosy, busy enough to be vibey, empty enough to easily get a drink… and a cocktail table right at the front for the best vantage point for us, Mary Bites Kerry‘s newest fans!

Sadly, we had missed the start of the band’s set so all too soon they were done. But that didn’t mean the entertainment was over – people from the audience kept coming up, picking up an instrument and jamming with whoever was doing same and for however long they were feeling it.

Members of MBK came back and joined in at times, but the most consistent gueststar was a brilliant bass-playing chap in skintight red trousers, with thick waistlength hair died platinum blonde and tied in a high ponytail, whom (for obvious reasons) we nicknamed Barbie… and took great delight dragging into a photo with us. He seemed quite flattered, in an aloof rockstar way. Christian had a pic with the lead singer from MBK, who seemed genuinely surprised (and very pleased) we were interested – and broke the bad news to us that they’d yet to release a CD, so there were none to buy.

We were supposed to meet up from there at (yet another) bar, called Deviate, but our taxi driver misunderstood our direction and erroneously dropped us off so coincidentally close to home (and nowhere near the other place) that it seemed like a good reason to call it a night. At 3am, probably a good idea.

SUNDAY

The next morning, once again, started in the afternoon. The moderate weather was a blessing to allow a good sleep and generous lie-in, and our faith in the accessibility of everything and the economy of the public transport left us quite confident that an afternoon was all we needed to fill in the gaps of the essential sight-seeing.

Honey came to us and we three headed out around 13h30 to catch the MRT to the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial complex. It’s a big and beautiful area with the Opera House, the National Theatre and the Memorial building flanking a central quad.

We were very fortunate to be visiting on the weekend of the WWF Pandas World Tour, so there were 1600 model pandas in various outfits and poses displayed in the centre of the quad, with countless 6ft+ plastic pandas dotted about the place, each with a queue of people lined up to take a picture with it. A prime display of how the Taiwanese are as panda-mad as they are orderly and obedient. Or maybe it’s just madness in general seeing as they dress their kids as animals (in panda hoodies, lion onesies etc) and their animals as kids (full regalia including jeans, tops and socks – and we’ve seen a few in nappies!) and they’ll line up quietly to see the opening of an envelope!

In their defence, it’s a lot easier to bow deference in a nation where there are light panels outside (pristine and abundant) public toilets so that you can see on approaching which stalls are occupied and vacant. And where the little man under the pedestrian go/stop light quickens pace as you’re running out of time – even though there’s a perfectly clear digital countdown timer alongside him.

Back on the MRT, in search of lunch, we alighted at Taipei Nangong Exhibition Centre stop to eat at one of Honey’s favourite restaurants, a Thai spot in Red Square at Ximen shopping district. We soon saw why she likes it so much – quaint and friendly, completely run by one woman (literally: taking orders, cooking, serving, billing and cleaning) and the most amazing food. This kind of set-up could only ever work with people as pathologically honest as the Taiwanese – the temptations of abusing the honour system of helping yourself to drinks and volunteering what you’ve had when billtime comes would far outweight any concerns about “saving face”.

Our people are more of the “stuffing face” variety… as we displayed when we narrowed down the menu to just order the things we absolutely couldn’t live without – spring rolls and shrimp pancake to start followed by chicken green curry, beef masaman curry, breaded chicken in lemon and sesame, spicy pork mince and morning glory. A lot of food for 3 people (although we rationalised that onlookers might’ve been fooled that we’d ordered for 6 seeing as we had 3 of Honey’s friends join us by this time).

In desperate need of movement after our enormous meal, we had a wander around the market and shopping district, thoroughly enjoying people-watching the hordes of chavs with big hair and crazy outfits.

We made our way across to Honey’s favourite temple, LungShan, which has a magnificent “dragon water” waterfall at the entrance, where people cleanse in preparation for worshipping Buddha. The temple was founded in 1738, so has all the ornate detail and decorative intricacies of a bygone era on the walls, arches, cornices and elaborate roof murals. It is apparently dedicated to the Goddess of Mercy and is brightly decorated with all the snacks and flower offerings that guests leave for the gods (but that we surmise end up on the monks’ tables).

Spiritually fulfilled we ambled around the Snake Alley market, careful to avoid all the snake activities, really not wanting to see snakes slit end-to-end while still alive to be drained of its believed-to-be elixir blood. Vile concept and – while not a fan of snakes by any means – unconscionably cruel.

Our sightseeing left just enough time for a flit past home before meeting up with Shawn (who’d been working) and (more) friends for dinner at a modest local diner, as authentic in its clientele as in its food. Low tables and simple milking stools, the 100 offered hundreds of dishes, mostly at 100NTs a plate – the intention being for the table to order a generous selection and share. Same with the beers that were served in quarts with each person having a small breakfast glass to pour into. Rounds and rounds of yummy food were delivered to the table, our favourites being the sizzling beef (in a thick oniony and peppery gravy) and the mackerel (light, flaky and buttery).

Starting to get the hang of the city, we opted to walk back to the apartment – chaperoned for the first bit by 2 of Honey’s friends, who fortuitously happened to be going in the same direction as us and committed to ensuring we took the only turn required on our route.

MONDAY

Monday morning, following Sunday’s shorter and relatively easier night out, started at a bright and breezy 9am. There had been much discussion over the course of the weekend about what we should do with our unchaperoned tour and we’d narrowed it down to Elephant Mountain in the morning and the Maokong gondola in the afternoon.

Taipei had other ideas.

On crossing to the Daan MRT station to start our journey, we were greeted with a flashing neon sign saying the gondola was closed for the day for maintenance. First Ngong Ping, now Maokong! Of all the luck!

No mind, we caught the train to Xiangshan anyway to do our morning climb, confident that a plan would present itself when the time came. Honey’s friend had left excellent directions to finding the start of the mountain climb, which is fortunate since it’s very poorly signposted.

We climbed the some thousand or so steps and were very pleased that our efforts were adequately rewarded with a gorgeous panoramic view of the whole city. We could see all the way down Xinyi Street to the apartment! And the massive cluster of buildings that is Taipei, hugged by the mountain bowl. It provided an excellent vantage point from which to plot our next movements.

We decided to catch the train to Tamsui, which promised a fishermans wharf and related activities, so it was down the mountain, back on the MRT (only 60NTs from one end town to the other!) and 40 minutes later we reached the end of the line to see what we could see on the Tamsui River.

Which turned out to be not a whole lot, but still a good leg stretch and some fresh(ish) air, so no regrets.

The last thing on my list was a visit to a Jade Market. Poorly prepared, we walked past where the big market was told to us to be but, coming up blank, we ended up having to pop back to the apartment to do some research (which was only a minute away since we were on our road anyway). A quick Google revealed that the Daan Park market was the main one… but only opened on weekends! Fortunately, there is also a daily one a few blocks from home.

A quick hop on the MRT and R6 and 11 minutes later we were at the market. Could definitely get used to this public transport thing!

Returning to the apartment less than an hour later, we found Teacher Honey waiting for us, so Christian nipped downstairs to the 7Eleven and we pulled up a plank on the roof for a sundowner (yes, the weather had held and it was still dry!) and a catch-up of the day’s events. We were so lucky to have Honey host us and lend us her flat – the casual downtime is always the best part of these holidays! 🙂

Finale dinner was another tapas style eating arrangement with some of the most delectable traditional Taiwanese food! Beef soup with noodles to start, spicy beef on morning glory, dumplings of every flavour, a beef tortilla thing… everything generously slathered or dunked in blackbean sauce, soy sauce and chilli oil. Ate to stuffed. Again.

Luckily it’s a city worth walking through, so we got to expend some of the food with a stroll to On Tap, the bar we’d been at the first night. We were, of course, far better behaved being a school night, but it was great to get in a last beer, review the fun weekend and compare notes for the future.

It was horrible to have to say goodbye – but hopefully it’s not for too long. And good friends are good friends, wherever they are. AND we have loads of new (and silly!) photos and memories to keep us going until next time.

What an excellent city! What a brilliant weekend! What genius people! Thank you, Taipei. We owe you one! 😉

Asia, Hong Kong, Travelogue

Travelogue Hong Kong 1: Lantau

LANTAU | DISCOVERY BAY

19-21 March 2014

It really is a long haul from Joburg to Hong Kong… but thanks to virtually empty flights, Emirates‘ superlative entertainment options and delicious food and a mercifully short (2 hour)  stopover in Dubai, it wasn’t so bad.

What was a bummer was finding out on landing at Hong Kong International Airport in Lantau that we’d just missed the bus to Discovery Bay and had an hour to wait until the next one. Although not so bad, since it gave us chance to get local currency and – since the busses only took exact change and we were now only packing HK$500s – *had to* spend some.

I suggested a bottle of water, but Christian returned with 2 beers, seemingly “a sign” since they amounted to HK$30 and we needed HK$70 for the bus. Amazing how much brighter the small things seem after 5 hours sprawled across 3 seats on the first flight plus 2 hours and some change over 2 (well, 2.5 if you consider that my head was on Christian’s lap) seats on the second. With a hearty “cheers”, we celebrated our arrival.

We had had no choice but to wait for the bus to take us to Discovery Bay because they don’t allow cars or taxis on that part of the island. We tried googling (using the airport’s free wifi – very civilised) but came up dry. What we did find out, is that the utility of cars has been replaced with golf carts. There are only 500 licenses though, so sometimes golf carts can cost up to HK$2 million!

There wasn’t much – besides blocks and blocks of apartments, mostly 30 stories high! – on the drive from the airport and we were disappointed that it was foggy as we drove into Discovery Bay (by now around 11pm), so we couldn’t see anything nor get our bearings. By the time we’d wound downhill to our destination, the Auberge, at the water’s edge, the mist was palpable! The air was the kind of wet that makes your hair curl as you step off the bus. Literally. :/

The hotel is gorgeous! Enormous cavernous reception with elaborate strings of fist-sized blue/azure/grey crystals hanging like chandeliers, grandiose escalier up to the left, 2 decadent curves of couches parenthesising a central  lounge area, concierge to greet us, porters to serve us, reception ma’am and sirring up a storm to us… certainly above our usual modest level of holiday accommodation!

We completed check-in (a lot longer than we’re used to since there were so many more features and facilities for us to be briefed on), freshened up in our (beautiful) suite and were out the door to go exploring.

Fail.

While it was super convenient that the Auberge annexes the Grand Plaza, everything was closed – judging by the signs, at 10.

Fortunately we’d eaten our fill on the flights (yes, 2 unchoosebetweenable options had again led to a “chicken [nasai goreng] AND fish [in cream parsley sauce with oregano potatoes]” answer to the stewardess’s predictable question), so didn’t need fuelling and it was nice to take a walk around anyway and stretch legs and whatnot.

Discovery Bay is situated on the NNW coast of Lantau Island, which is connected to the mainland by a bridge. The Auberge was situated at the top end of a curved bay, with a beach to the North and Disneyland to the North West. We walked south to see what all we could see along our bay’s shoreline.

It was a crisp evening, so a lovely walk. Discovery Bay was clearly the fancypants part of Lantau and everything was Stepfordly perfect. There was still a large concentration of apartment blocks, but with a smattering of townhouse strips, that must cost a pretty penny! It was very lush and green with precise, manicured gardens – even in the apartment complexes, where buildings are raised off the ground to start on what should be the first floor so that the space on the ground accommodates more greenery. And bicycles. Lots of bicycles. Not chained or locked, just neatly slotted in bike racks.

We walked through an area called Sienna, which seemed to be creme de la creme. Townhouses replaced apartments and golf carts replaced bicycles. Very weird to see parking lots of golf carts and not a car in sight. The roads were eerily quiet, although lit up like a Christmas tree because it appeared to be standard practice for buildings to leave (neon) lights on in their entrance hall and up the stairwells. Would make a killing introducing the concept of motion-sensor lights here, to be sure!

The area was very self-contained and completely accessible (not a high wall or locked gate in sight!) and we walked through a school, playground, sports centre, “Central Park”, a very lovely pond area with paths and bridges, and back onto the dockside walkway back to the hotel, for the most excellent night’s sleep under the fluffy white duvet and between the silky soft sheets.

THURSDAY

Breakfast was amazing, starting off with full Eastern and moving onto full Western. Very exotic to be eating beef su mei, pork and prawn dumplings, noodles and egg custard balls to start. Equally extravagant to follow with protein-intensive eggs, bacon, sausage, beef hash, salmon and beans!

A good start to what was planned to be a long day.

As all research had hinted it would be, public transport is cheap and easy. Also helpful that on Lantau there were only really four routes of interest.

We caught the bus down to the Pier, which was the main junction on the Discovery Bay side. There we caught the bus to Tung Chung, which is the main junction to travel to anywhere on Lantau, or get to the airport or the mainland. We were headed to Ngong Ping to see the Big Buddha Unfortunately, the (widely and highly recommended) cable car was closed for the day for maintenance so we had to take the bus.

The bus rides gave us chance to see most of Lantau island. Despite the impression that all the condensed apartments might give, there is still much undeveloped land on Lantau. There are stretches that resemble Mauritius with a smattering of small houses (tiled on the outside) on narrow hilly roads, with very tropical trees and shrubbery everywhere. Were it not for the cowboy bus-drivers and their deathwish roller-coaster driving style, the transport might’ve felt less logistical and more recreational!

We were deposited at the Pai Lao gate where we could walk up Bodhi Path, admiring the 12 Divine Generals stone statues (showing which animal of the Chinese zodiac each represented) up to the Di Tan circle at the base of the steep staircase that would take us up to Big Buddha. Hard to tell whether the people bowing in the Di Tan were praising Buddha or just asking him to give them the strength to survive the hundreds of steps!

We managed the steps with a single stop on the way up – conveniently a couple of monks were making their way down on the other side of the stairwell, which made for a great excuse to stop and rest… I mean, take a photograph.

The Big Buddha really was, well, big. An enormous statue perched atop a peak with breathtaking panorama of Lantau – not surprisingly, from our experience at ground level, very green and lush. He had worshipper statues all round, of slanty-eyed dancy people offering him lotus flowers and the like. Lots of fun watching tourists emulating the statues’ poses in their pics!

It was a far easier journey on the way down.

We worked our way through the rest of the complex quite quickly (mostly since the leisure spots all seemed to centre around vegetarian food) and took in the Po Lin Monastery, Hall of the Great Hero and Hall of A Thousand Buddhas in minutes, stopping to snicker at the Fat Ho Memorial Hall, which sadly didn’t have a big sign we could photograph.

The only other thing on Lantau I wanted to see was the Tai O ancient fishing village on the West coast, which turned out to be simple enough by catching the same 21 bus that had brought us to Ngong Ping. We’d learned at Tung Chung (from an Australian on the bus with us) that it was a advisable to buy an Octopus Card, which could be loaded with cash credit and swiped on all the public transport to avoid the exact change requirement, so hopping on and off busses was proving to be very simple and convenient.

Twenty minutes on the bus and we were at Tai O, met at the door by a lady peddling tickets for boat ride tour of the fishing village, General Rock and (potential) White Dolphin sightings. For only HK$25 it seemed like a good deal.

The fishing village was quite something. An entire village of houses on stilts, some quite neat and tidy, others little more than aluminium shacks. It would appear as if most have primary access from the water and there were loads of people pulling up to cafés and neighbour’s porches in their boats, climbing ladders alongside the stilts to get to the buildings above.

The boat then u-turned and headed back out to sea. The skipper pointed out General Rock, which was very aptly named because a more general rock you never have seen. Allegedly an outcrop section resembles the profile of a General. Allegedly.

Sadly, we didn’t see any dolphins on our trip. The Aussie who had given us the advice on the bus had warned that it was luck of the draw… but it was a cheap tour so worth the risk.

Thinking there might be more to the village, we crossed the river and walked the length of Shek Tsai Po Street. Not much to see, just the residential area. Although, quite a culture shock, again with no cars, and nothing locked up or tied down – including baskets full of shopping outside what seemed like a community meeting at the community hall. Noticeboards dotted at intervals along the walking path (there was no road to speak of) broadcast news and a small post office was the only official building. Heart-warmingly, even such a ‘simple’ society has split bins along the route for recycling.

Done with our day’s adventuring, the plan was to head back to Discovery Bay Pier (where we’d caught the bus out) and have an early dinner. For this we needed to connect at Tung Chung. With a gap between buses, Christian suggested we visit the adjacent mall, which turned into a far longer than planned interlude when first I found the Adidas/Reebok shop and *had* to get 2 new pairs of sports shoes (Christian also got 2 pairs, just to be sporting), then Christian found Gieves & Hawkes (of Savil Row) gentlemen’s outfitters and treated himself to 3 new tailored suits for work.

An hour later, spent (in more ways than one)?, we got the bus to DB Pier.

The Plaza at the Pier was a jovial affair, with an amphitheatre style arrangement in the centre that was filled with kids in the middle, playing, and moms on the low, wide steps around them, onlooking and socialising among themselves. Restaurants and shops surrounded the amphitheatre, providing another level of entertainment and adding to the buzz and movement within the area.  Walking through the plaza took us to the waterfront, with bars and restaurants opening onto a wide promenade, overlooking the pretty bay (the water in Lantau all seems to be a light translucent jade colour) and the stretch of beach at the inner side of the inlet.

We went with tradition and chose the Irish pub, McSorely’s, for a sundowner Guinness, but couldn’t bring ourselves to eat dinner there as their menu was all curry and burgers and this was, after all, our first meal in the Far East so it seemed only right to have something local and traditional.

Easier said than done. The restaurants were all world fare – German, Italian, American etc – as was the clientele, which we confirmed more and more now that we’d noticed. It seems that Discovery Bay’s niche is ex-pats. Mostly Irish, some English and a few Aussies from our vantage points, not a Chinese patron in sight.

Sundowners behind us, we found a noodle and congee bar option for dinner and decided it was the right thing to do. Tucked away and barely branded on the outside, we found it to be more like a canteen than a restaurant; Super Super was neat, tidy and efficient.

We ordered 4 meals to share, expecting to get tiny portions based on the prices (less than R200 for everything), but were proved mistaken when a few minutes later we were feasting on a tableful of food! Not a problem – everything was delicious! A prawn wanton soup (with noodles), spicy stripped pork and noodles, pork with rice (topped with pork mince, which was my best!) and chicken and prawn with rice. We ate all the good bits and our fair share of the starch, but there was still enough rice and noodles left for another person to eat their fill.

Congratulating ourselves on a dinner well done, we went to catch the tail end of the (3 hour) happy hour. It was a bit disappointing that there is no local brew, so we had to settle for the German, Brazilian and Japanese beers options we were presented. Beers are quite expensive – no doubt since they’re imported – at HK$50 each. There was not a local patron in sight; everyone again Irish, English and Aussie, with an American family for good measure. Not sure if it’s Discovery Bay thing or a DB Pier thing…

The buses run all night so we had no trouble (and no more than 5 minutes wait) to hop on and head back to our hotel to drop off our shopping and have a nightcap on the big, manicured hotel verandah overlooking the sea and then another in the big, beautiful hotel bar.

All in all, a great first day in Discovery Bay on Lantau Island. Perfectly ended with a flop into the kingsize bed with thick and fluffy duvet and silky soft sheets – a far cry from the airline seats of the night before!

And good prep for the next leg of the tour – Taiwan!

Sri Lanka, Travelogue

Travelogue ISC 7: Sri Lanka

SRI LANKA

23 – 27 November 2012

We had a bit of an up and down start to the Sri Lankan leg of the holiday. We’d opted to forfeit the last night of the organised Golden Triangle tour in India so that we could make the most of the limited time we had in Sri Lanka. The flight we’d booked was 18h50, due to land at 22h20, which brought us into Colombo late, but meant we’d have a full day on the Saturday rather than wasting it on more transfers and waiting around in airports.

The flight left 10 minutes early, which was good; but hovered on the runway when we arrived so we ended up only disembarking the plane just before 11, which was bad.

It was raining, which wasn’t great; but the currency was half the price of the Indian Rupee and we easily arranged a taxi transfer to our hotel, which was good. It was *very* humid in Colombo, which was bad; but our taxi had aircon, which was good. The taxi fare was arranged in advance and a bargain at the price, which was good; but the driver couldn’t find our hotel, so we ended up driving around and around until 00h30, which wasn’t fun.

It was not the taxi driver’s fault though. Their numbering system is up the pole. Our hotel was number 103/12 Dharmapala Mawatha, which had no road frontage – it just went 101A, 101B… Big bank with no number. We drove up and down, went around the block stopped a few wandering locals to ask them… And then eventually lucked out with a stab in the dark, driving down a narrow alley at the far side of the big banking complex… Which revealed all the 103/extensions! It was so narrow and windy that we’re not sure how the poor driver got out of there but we tipped him well for his troubles and – short of having to apologise profusely to number 103/11 whose bell we mistakenly rang the first time – were done with the challenges for the night.

Or so we thought. The room we were allocated wasn’t the room we booked. We got a very spartan back room with twin singles on either wall, with thin foam mattresses and a single top sheet draped at the foot to be used for cover. Worse than that – no en suite! Far too late for debate though (I started the discussion with the landlord but was soon lost in translation) and seemed pointless to argue seeing as we were straight to be and up and out early anyway.

We placed an order for our breakfast (cheese and ham toasties, with coffee for Christian) and called it a (very long) day.

SATURDAY

Saturday morning we awoke to no rain, bright skies, but a few menacing clouds on the horizon so we decided that, rather than tempt fate and end up doing Colombo sight-seeing in the rain, we’d go straight to Galle.

We were staying in Unawatuna Beach, said to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the world preserved by its coral reefs, and the prospect of a lazy lounger day and lingering sundowners trumped hot and sticky Colombo from the moment the possibility was brought to discussion!

We grabbed a taxi down to Maharagara, to the terminus where the busses leave for Galle. We’d initially planned on taking the train from Fort (Colombo) to Fort (Galle), but this was a 3 and some change hour ride, so the express bus on the Southern Expressway being less than an hour and a half held much appeal. The hotelier warned that this express comes at a premium and is twice as expensive as the normal train or intercity bus, but at 940 Sri Lankan Rupees for both of us (R70), we sucked it up!

Our hearts sank when we got to the ‘terminus’, which was little more than a tarmac clearing with a long snaking queue of people waiting, but it worked out swimmingly since the bus arrived as we joined the back of the queue and – unbelievably – we got literally the last 2 seats on that bus! Enormously good signs!

Turns out the earlier-than-planned departure to Unawatuna was the right thing to do. An easy bus ride, greeted at the Galle end by a jovial and enthusiastic taxi driver who gave us a new appreciation for living with his Knieval driving style and, best of all, we beat the weather at its own game. Galle and Unawatuna were both sunny skies and nowhere near as humid.

We checked in at Surfcity Guesthouse and were pleased to see that the ‘hit and miss’ relatively blind online booking process had dealt us a winner. Down a single lane road parallel to the beach, the triple story hotel had us booked in a simple, but clean and ample room on the middle floor, facing directly over their restaurant and bar (across the road) with a lovely view of the ocean.

The ocean was gorgeous, with dark blue on the horizon, mottling blue and green over the coral reef, lightening to turquoise near the shore and then dramatically changing to a light aquamarine in the last few metres before the white foamy section climbs the sand toward us.

Of course there was science to the miraculous effect since there wasn’t much shallow end to this big pool and clearly as soon as it gets deep, so does the colour deepen. It was quite rough (especially after the tranquility of our Goan experience), but the unpredictability of the incoming swells and the strength of the undercurrent were the fun side of challenging and we had some good giggles at having our feet pulled out from under us! … And better fun watching other people floundering about the place!

We lunched at a spot called The Rock, drawn in by the plaque at the entrance that commemorates their reopening after being devastated by the 2004 tsunami from the earthquake measuring 9 on the Richter scale. A good story was enough to draw us in and we enjoyed our fresh seafood metres away from the waterline. The food was really good – fried tuna and deepfried calamari rings (even though we’d ordered grilled, they clearly knew better), and I even ate the salad that was served alongside! It was unusual – shredded cabbage, grated carrot, slivers of cucumber, diced spring onions and wedges of pineapple. I haven’t eaten that much raw food on one plate since I last ordered carpaccio!

We wiled away the afternoon on loungers outside our hotel’s beachfront restaurant. Dipping and dunking in the sea periodically and entertaining ourselves watching the beach dogs and kittens.

At sunset we showered and changed and checked out the high street, which really doesn’t have anything to offer (including no ATM, we found out we have to catch a tuktuk to Galle to draw money!) so we retired back to our stretch of paradise for sundowners.

Unawatuna is a 2 km long bay with bars and restaurants side by side most of the way around, with a skinny walkway of sand between where the loungers end and the sea actively begins. It was not crowded or built-up though. The restaurants are all wooden and charming and there was a single row of loungers so it was not cramped like Patong Beach the previous year. It was great to sit at The Peacock with a lowered table with short-legged patio furniture for sundowners. We were inches above the sand and every so often a goliath wave would make it as far as lapping to our feet.

We’d picked a good spot so we ended up ordering dinner there as well. Noodles and pizza for a change of pace, but both with prawns and shrimp to keep the seaside authenticity. We’d had a bevvy of beach pets around us all day, but it was only our black and ginger patched kitten that begged for food, wailing as each forkful went into our mouths. She got a small cube of chicken, a shrimp, a piece of pizza crust and a faceful of pizza crumbs for her efforts and seemed quite pleased with herself (before strutting off to her next feeders).

SUNDAY

We arranged first thing in the morning for a tuktuk to come and collect us to take us to Galle at 11am. Our mission twofold, see the sights and find an ATM. While there’s no shortage of tuktuk drivers begging our custom, it was just easier to pre-negotiate and firm a fixed time with our concierge.

Plans in place we hoofed it to ‘town’ in search of a light breakfast (bananas and drinking yoghurt the Plan A from experience in Eastern Europe), but found no such things at the nearby supermarket, so we returned to our stretch of beach and had a cheese and egg roti (spelt ‘rotty’ here) instead.

It was delicious! A big thin roti with eggs and cheese smeared on top and folded as it cooked so the final product was a sideplate-sized square parcel with a few layers of roti, egg and cheese. Very light, very yum.

We rewarded our great choice with a lounge on the restaurant’s loungers and a dip in the sea before heading back to shower and ready for our excursion.

The day was a scorcher. By the time we’d walked down the stairs and got into the tuktuk, we were drenched from sweat and very grateful for the breeze the puttering tuktuk created on movement. Our driver spoke good English and so we’d negotiated a full city tour on top of the return trip for an extra 200 Roupees (R14). He told us that Galle is 6km from Unawatuna and we’d be seeing the fort, visiting a spice shop and a jewellery factory and stopping for lunch.

First was the Fort, which you can drive into and comprises an entire walled old city taking up the full bulbous peninsular south of the cricket grounds. The fort was 620 years old and was built by the Dutch. They did a good job and the fort wasn’t damaged in the 2004 tsunami; in fact, the high thick walls meant that the water didn’t even get in the fort at all, chanelled around either side and wiping out the new city inland.

We saw the famous clock tower and lighthouse, took some photos of the cricket ground (apparently funded by Shane Warne), saw the underground dungeon jails and the pits where prisoners were kept, got gawked at by locals (there was a school on tour) and warned against entering the area still operational by local army. It was a really quick tour that we probably could have managed on our own, but it was nice to have the tuktuk at our disposal to be able to drive us up and down the narrow streets so we could see some of the ‘antique houses’ that are now mostly government buildings, hotels or holiday houses owned by rich overseas people (mostly Germans, we were told).

Next was the jewellery shop, with the same schpiel and false warmth. Still, we enjoyed their aircon and the 3 ice cold Cokes they gave us (saying Christian was too big for just one buddy bottle).

We asked our driver to take us to the market, but were underwhelmed with the merchandise. We visited a spice store, which held the most promise but left empty-handed.

Last stop was lunch. We’d asked the driver to take us to a local spot that served a decent Sri Lankan signature curry and rice, and ended up in a backroom cafe, with a generous handful of locals pouring over very interesting looking plates. We ordered 1 fish (tuna) and 1 chicken curry and waited to see what we’d be given. We ended up with an enormous bowl of rice, 2 little bowls with the meats each in its own distinct sauce, a bowl of dahl, and 3 or 4 other bowls of things we’d never seen before. All in all, a worthwhile experience for R30 in total, including a 1,5 litre bottle of water.

Back to our beach, we frittered away the afternoon on loungers, browsing the wares of passing hawkers (I bought a throw for my spare room) and joining the bobbing heads in the sea every now and then.

We rounded off a perfectly productive day planning the next, by booking the much anticipated surf lessons for the following day. Plans in place, we celebrated with yet another leisurely candlelit beachside dinner (grilled tuna for me and nasai goreng for Christian) and retired to our hotel patio.

MONDAY

We had intended to breakfast at the place that professed itself to be the best rotty shop in Unawatuna… But it wasn’t open yet – and we had a surf lesson date to keep, with the tuktuk meeting us at 9am. We settled for Black & White (our hotel’s beachside restaurant – our room’s terrace looks over the restaurant’s roof at the sea) and had a very pleasant cheese and mushroom (me) and Sri Lankan (onion, tomato, chilli, spice) omelette.

The tuktuk took us 40 minutes South to Weligama; it’s a small island so this was far enough to take us from SSE Sri Lanka to Sri Lanka South. We met with the surf instructor who issued us with rash vests and boards and we were off.

We were given a short tutorial on the sand on what to do. Paddle, hold the board, chest up, pop, crouch, adjust weight, arms out. Seemed simple enough. So, it was out to the water.

We did really well the first few times, even standing on the board within the first 15 minutes! But, then you get tired and it gets harder to fight the waves to get out and we misjudged a few waves and followed duds and, to be honest, ended worse than we’d begun. First hour up, we took to the shore for some liquid refreshment to regain breath and composure. Christian decided to man the shore, but after a half hour break I hit the waves again.

It was hard work, but really cool. And ticking off a bucketlister to boot!

On the way back home we stopped to take pics of the stiltfisherman – perched on poles fixed in the ocean bed, with their feet just above the water, spearing fish below.

All the surfing and commuting had been thirsty work, so lunch was a matter of urgency on our return. We decided on the Lucky Tuna, mainly because they take credit card (very rare in these parts), and they promised us toasties post haste. True to their word, Christian’s tuna and cucumber and my Club sandwich were very quick – and yum. Being fed on a comfy lounger led to the inevitable and we were ‘reading’ (really, napping) soon after.

At sunset, we were ushered from the loungers and headed back to the hotel to shower and dress and head out to do our last gift-shopping. We’d accidentally found the night before a road sort of parallel to ours that had a stream of restaurants, hotels, jewellers and curio stores. We had found it after dinner so the stores were shut, but definitely worth a revisit.

We doubled the gift-shopping with a hunt for a restaurant serving fresh butter fish. It had become a sort of quest since the night before a few restaurants we’d tried had advertised it on their specials board and then not had it when we ordered. We found a gorgeous spot, that had the actual fish on display at the open air barbecue selection buffet (“you pick it, we cook it” kinda thing), so the deal was sealed.

Thaproban had a very ‘tranquil’ entrance section, which initially put us off the night before as it seemed more zen than yum. What we hadn’t seen was that once you choose your fish from the road-facing zen side (all floating lotus flowers and whatnot) you’re led around the hotel to the sea-facing side to wooden tables and chairs on a seasand piled terrace with the sea lapping up to the edge. Really pretty.

The food was amazing! The butter fish was served whole, with head and tail, alongside a generous helping of McD’s style chips and the same shredded cabbage salad as the previous days. Christian selected deep fried crumbed seer fish as the second dish and it accompanied perfectly. While the butter fish was moist and flaky, the crumbing of the seer fish provided the crunch with a slightly drier meat, but not chewy like a game fishg. Christian likened it to a kabeljou; it just liked it.

We also had the delight of getting our hands on a few bottles of Three Coins, supposedly Sri Lanka’s local beer… Although this is the first time we’ve seen it and Lion was everywhere. Christian has been trying to get a beer label vest (or even t-shirt) everywhere, without success. The hotel manager happened to wander past our table to ask if the food and service had been satisfactory and we ended up having a lengthy digress with him about it – and he’d offered to get us a shirt sent from the factory for free, but it would take a few days, which of course we don’t have.

Nightcaps at Black & White to end the day as it had begun and it was off to bed, to wake for an early start to return to Colombo. A day of sight-seeing and then we’re off to the Maldives.

TUESDAY

Our plans to get up early and have a good breakfast before our trek to Colombo were thwarted when, typically, the hotel’s restaurant didn’t open at its usual 8am. When it still wasn’t open at 8.15 and our tuktuk was early we decided to change tack and head to Galle, thinking we could grab a snack from a shop near the bus depot and eat properly in Colombo.

We had been warned that there may be no bus service running since our planned departure date happened to coincide with Poya Day, which is the monthly full moon holy day as observed by the Buddhists, being the majority, so is a public holiday (every month!). We’d consulted a few people and gotten quite conflicting reports varying from the busses not running to running every 10 minutes.

It all worked out quite well, with our tuktuk driver stopping at a cafe where we could buy egg rotties and water (under R20 for both of us) and the bus waiting for us when we arrived. We ended up 15 minutes ahead of schedule with the best of everything we’d planned! (Except the bus’s very exuberant entertainment, with local music videos blaring from screens suspended from the aisle roof). We again thanked our lucky stars for the express bus, slicing the travel time in half. Might not sound like a big deal for back home, but quite fortunate that Sri Lanka’s *only* highway was only completed last year and happened to be the exact route we needed.

There was a moment of panic when the bus didn’t return to the depot as anticipated and we were unceremoniously deposited on an arbitrary section of pavement. But a request for directions to the depot (since this was where we were meeting the guide we’d pre-arranged) yielded easy directions to 50m down the road, where Shami was already waiting.

We started our guided tour with the Monument of Fallen Soldiers – a monolith with lions at its base with walls and walls of names of soldiers who died over the 33 years of war between the Sinalhese and the Tamils. Our guide estimates around 400,000 people fell during the fighting, including innocent people in the terrorist park bombings.

We then drove past the biggest Buddha and the national cricket grounds (which Christian recognised from TV) and on to Independence Square, with its large monument to commemorate independence in 1948. The monument is pagoda style – which again reinforces our constant impression that Sri Lanka feels a lot more like Thailand than India – and is again guarded by lions (statues, not beers). The lions apparently play a big part in the nations mythical history, with some strange story of witches and human/lion children.

This route led along Marine Drive, with a far more predictable beachfront layout than that in Mumbai – and a host of new hotels launched and under construction, not least of which the 7* Shangri La, due for opening in 2014 (and clearly not in the slightest related to the modest Shangri La where we stayed in Goa!). By contrast, we stopped at the railway station opposite and it was functional, but far from beautiful – and the train that stopped looked ancient and packed.

We were hungry again, being lunchtime and having such a light breakfast hours ago, so we stopped for a quick and easy McD’s. Christian had the Big Mac combo, which was exactly the same as at home, and I had the Big Mac chicken combo, which turned out to be a Big Mac with 2 junior chicken patties and mayo instead of the secret sauce. All good.

Refuelled, we drove through Colombo 7 (the fancy bit) and Shami pointed out all the important buildings – mostly municipal, governmental and state homes of dignitaries (mostly naval and military). Most fly the Sri Lankan flag as well as the Buddhist one (5 vertical stripes from left to about 3/4 right with blue, yellow, white, red and orange; then the same colours horizontal stripes taking up the right hand 1/4).

We passed on (yet another) Buddhist temple and our guide was a little taken aback at our honest “just the famous ones” response. There really are just too many for all to be interesting – and I’m more fascinated by the little offshoot shrines that can be found in the middle of intersections, at bus ranks, in the markets etc. Just a Buddha, with an altar and a bit of tiled floor space within waist-height palisade fencing, making the religion really accessible to the people to integrate their worship into their daily routines.

I’d wanted to visit Pettah, which is the famous market area, but was a bit disappointed that it was mostly luggage and electronic shops. The clothing shops are all a bit backward and the textile shops, where people seem to have everything made up custom aren’t of interest. Nonetheless, we walked up and down a few streets and drove around the rest and can tick it off as seen and done. It’s a blessing it was a public holiday so, while half the shops were closed, there was a fraction of the traffic so quite a pleasant experience overall.

We asked about the Fort here, having read that it’s a ‘to do’, but it’s a bit different to the other we’ve been to in that it’s not city within walls as is the conventional sense and the areas we’d been wandering around fell into the general ‘Fort’ district, adjacent to Pettah. The Cinnamon Gardens are also a bit misleading. I was expecting an actual cinnamon plantation or botanical experience of some sort, but it turns out that it’s just a fancy suburb named for the cinnamon groves that were there beforehand, when the area was established.

We did a bit more shopping and stopped at a few of the more interesting temples to grab a snap, especially the pretty pagoda on the lake next to the Botanical Gardens (which were literally that, not like the cinnamon story) with the ‘Treasure of Truth’ and wishing pond. But really, Colombo is just a city, so we’d had enough of driving around and got to the airport early for a relaxed check in for our flight to Maldives.

Asia, India, Travelogue

Travelogue ISC 6: Surajgarh

SURAJGARH

22 November 2012

Having done all the major sights (7 World Heritage sites in 6 days!), we didn’t really know what more was in store for the last day and a half back to Delhi. Yusef explained that we were headed a little off the beaten track to stay in a merchant’s mansion and do camel rides to a special spot to enjoy the sunset.

We’d gotten quite ‘bus fit’ so the 5 hour ride wasn’t so bad. It helped that there are only 15 of us on a full massive bus, so we had a few rows each to stretch out, spread out our stuff, recline seats and so on. We were double lucky because dumb luck had placed us the furthest back on the bus, so we had the whole back row to stretch out on full length for quality napping. We had cards, books and conversation (with each other and the Aussies) to fill in the rest of the gaps, so it could have been worse.

We arrived at Surajgarh early afternoon and had to walk through the town and up the hill to the fort because the roads in the old town aren’t suitable for busses. The local children were thrilled at all these Westerners and greeted us exuberantly with loud greetings and waving. We must have seemed like royalty to them… And we could see why when we arrived.

Our accommodation was a converted mansion that had belonged to a rich merchant from the area. Their houses were extravagant in every aspect; size, gardens, finishes. We were told that some of these mansions have up to 200 rooms and 7 courtyards. Sadly, a lot of them are just locked up and abandoned since the families have moved, but they don’t want to sell the properties in case they are perceived to need the money and hence lose face.

We were allocated an enormous first floor suite (lucky #7), opening (through a short and wide wooden door with big brass bolt and an old fashioned 22 tumbler lock and key) on a 3 piece lounge with flatscreen TV, in front of a big square bedroom, with king size bed in the middle of the room surround with windows on 2 sides and Arabian arches on the other two. A large enclosed verandah ran the length of the bedroom and lounge, overlooking the big pool below (through weird little windows that were waist-height to knee-height). Completing the suite was a big dressing room with free-standing wardrobe and illuminated mirror, adjacent to a long bathroom with all the usual trimmings.

Yusef had arranged a simple buffet for lunch so, once we’d finished exploring our suite, we headed up to the rooftop terrace to tuck in. Odd combination of fried rice, veg noodles, french fries, onion and potato pakoras, but all very nice. Our camel ride was booked for 4.30 so we’d had every intention of having a swim, but time slipped by while we were chatting to our group mates and soon we were off again for the next excursion.

We met in the fort entryway, where the camels had been corralled and were waiting for us to climb aboard their carts. We split into the requisite groups of 5 and soon were off to parade through the town, as much a spectacle as we were spectators of the surrounds. We were taken to an old Hindu temple and Yusef explained more about the religion, its gods and its practices. All very fascinating – and a lot less complicated than it seemed at first now that the key names are sounding more familiar.

We rounded off the afternoon with a visit to an abandoned fort in town, where we watched the sunset through the arches and turrets on the open-air rooftop terrace. Back at our hotel, Christian and Craig took to the pool, while everyone else was freshening up for dinner, again to be served on the rooftop. The seats had all been arranged in a big U so that we could watch the show (drummer, piper and 2 kids dancing) and very soon it became a mandatory interactive dance lesson, which was quite a laugh.

Finger food snacks were brought around and we were very pleased with the tandoori aloo (potatoes), tikka chicken and barbecue paneer (big blocks of cottage cheese). A buffet followed with the usual assortment of breads, rice and curry, followed by gulab jaman and ice-cream for dessert. We sat up there for hours having beers, laughs and good chats with our tour mates, having a great time. We were very lucky to have had a fun group.

Yusef joined us at one point for a few drinks and told of some of the nightmare groups he had had that didn’t gel and that just complained about everything. Luckily we’ve had a team of seasoned travellers, all looking to enjoy ourselves and see and do as much as we can.

FRIDAY

After a last breakfast (the usual omelettes, toast, beans, bananas and juice), we were back on the bus for our last long haul – from Surajgarh back to Delhi. Most of the others had a last night in Delhi, with the exception of the Brits who were leaving a bit later than us on the Friday and the Aussie solo traveller who was leaving on Sunday for China. It was a quiet ride all round, with several members of the group licking their wounds from the festivities the night before.

We got to the airport in near perfect time and had no trouble checking in and getting through passport control, with just enough time to grab a McMaharaj (a Big Mac with curried chicken patties) and get to our gate for our flight to Sri Lanka.

Asia, India, Travelogue

Travelogue ISC 5: Jaipur

JAIPUR

20-21 November 2012

Arriving in Jaipur, we wound our way up the mountains through the ‘hotels’ that lined the streets on either side that had welcomed the traders as they arrived with their caravans of wares. The buildings are all in relatively good condition already and are planned for a restoration project that will turn them into proper tourist attractions.

Jaipur, founded by Jai Singh, is known as the Pink City because when the Prince of Wales visited in 1876 the Maharajah Ram Singh painted the entire Old City pink, which is the colour of welcome in India.

Our hotel, Mandawa Haveli, was gorgeous! We had a lovely suite with marble floors and walls, an entire lounge (which it sounds like not everyone has) and a flatscreen TV and satellite decoder on a lazy susan that swivels between the lounge and the bedroom, so you can watch from the couch, 4 poster bed or window seat in the bedroom.

We decided to eat in the hotel since our journey in hinted that there was nothing of interest in the direct neighbourhood. Turned out to be a great decision and we thoroughly enjoyed our starters of tandoori mushrooms (me) and chicken pineapple salad (Christian) and our shared main course of chicken lababdar and lamb, with garlic naans. Double victory for the hotel kitchen since we’d decided well in advance to take a night off curry and have a western dinner!

WEDNESDAY
Jaipur is one of the first planned city of northern India based on the principles of “Shilpa Shastra”, in fact “Jaipur clearly represents a dramatic departure from extant medieval cities with its ordered, grid-like structure – broad streets, criss-crossing at right anglese, earmarked sites for buildings, palaces, havelis, temples and gardens, neighbourhoods designated for caste and occupation” (UNESCO, 2015).

9 square miles within the walls, with 9 rectangular grids, length and breadth of roads are multiples of 9 and 9 gates to enter the city, emulating the 9 openings in the human body. Other reasons for the 9 are found in Hindu mythology, Vishnee the Preserver has had 9 incarnations and Durga appears in 9 different forms and so on.

We made a stop to look at the facade of a Palace where the royal ladies used to sit behind the windows and watch the royal processions. While taking pics, we were lured in by a snake charmer and I got to don turban and play the calabash pipe to get the snakes going. Creepy but cool.

We were disheartened to see the long snaking queue at the elephant rides, but it moved quite quickly and soon we were atop an elephant and climbing the hill to Man Singh’s Palace (built in 1592). Man Singh was the maharaja of the Rajastani people and a general in Mughal King Akbar’s army. The entire structure of the palace, much like the rest of Jaipur, is well preserved since the city has never seen war, having strategically aligned with the Mughals. They were generals in the Mughal army and ceded any territories won to the Mughals but brought the bounties home to fund their prosperity.

The entrance quadrangle is large with frescoes painted above all the arches and entryways into the buildings. Frescoes are painted while the plaster is wet, so lasts longer and requires more skill.

The summer palace was constructed with a primitive aircon that drew cool air from the lake on one side of the palace up 3 walls to cool, then through a khuskhus reed curtain with tiny pipes of water spraying on it to give it a light scent and cool it even further. The winter palace was lined with thick curtains that made the areas 5 degrees warmer than outside. The central area had mirrors embedded on the walls, to help the king ‘get in the mood’ when the belly-dancers performed before he was due to make heirs.

The harem had 12 apartments for the king’s 12 wives. The king had so many wives because of matrimonial alliances with neighbours to prevent fighting. The king would use a secret passage that ran behind the apartments to access them so as to prevent squabbling between the wives. Only women were allowed in this area – not even their sons could visit after a certain age. Children fathered through concubines or servants were either passed off as belonging to deceased soldiers or murdered.

Then the shopping started.

With a jewellery shop.

Not only was inner magpie on high alert, but they also greeted us with samoosas (pyramid shaped veg ones) and *cold* Cokes, so we were done for! They displayed the beautiful ruby Star of India stones that the country is famous for. The salespeople had done a good job of piquing interest by ushering us all into a darkened office and spotlighting the stones, but the chap holding the stone made the faux pas of glimmering the reflection ‘star’ toward himself so the rest of the group was quite underwhelmed. Having a solid education in such things, I picked up another stone and showed our little huddle the star and there was much ooo and aaah’ing from everyone.

Block painting fabric. The patterns are made from a series of stamps. The first lays the outline and then ensuing stamps colour in their part of the picture with a single colour. Once all the stamps are overlaid, the pattern is completely coloured in. Traditionally all the colourants are sourced from nature – green from mango leaves, red from cane, yellow from turmeric, black from gooseberries, grey from onion leaves and, least of which because of cost prohibitiveness, orange from saffron (“golden flower”).

We were also shown the process of carpet-making and the millions of knots per centimetre that make up the better grade carpets. While reassuring that they’re washable and fire retardant (they went at it with a blowtorch and then just brushed it clean), the opening price of R10k for a small mat was enough to make an easy decision. But we did accept their offer of a Kingfisher, so as not to offend and headed into their shop where their hospitality was rewarded with Christian buying half a dozen silk ties.

Pooped from shopping, we all welcomed lunch, which doubled as a trip to the Turban Museum. We had a delicious Mutton Shahi Korma (I was delighted that their korma doesn’t have nuts as normally I wouldn’t have it because of the cashews), paneer stuffed tandoori potatoes and a garlic and an onion naan.

Jai Singh was a great astrologer and mathematician, so established an awesome open-air observatory at Jantar Mantar, with a great big sundial (the Vrihat Samrat Yantra) and smaller dials that measure time with accuracy up to 2 seconds, astrological charts and monsoon forecasting. We had a lovely wander round, finished off with a visit to the Art hall, where we were demonstrated the art of miniature painting. This was a painstaking technique that required the artist to use a very thin brush (sometimes a single squirrel hair!) in order to create the finest of outlines and smoothest smear of colours. The paintings could be quite elaborate, painted on gold leaf with embedded jewels.

The artists included craftsmen of wooden items, inlaying trinket boxes by hand with brass wire to make intricate patterns or crushing semi-precious gems to adhere the dust onto glass that turned over reveals a beautiful pastel artwork, which is inlaid into the top of a wooden box. We bought a few items, but held back as the plan for the remainder of the afternoon and evening was a visit to the markets.

This turned out to be a chaotic affair. We were dumped rather unceremoniously roadside (the bus wasn’t allowed to formally pull over for fear of fines) and had to make our way back to the shops and market. This wasn’t what we expected at all. Rows of shops the size of a single garage lining either side of the road, with owners hovering in the doorway luring people to come buy their merchandise. The problem was that their wares weren’t what we wanted to buy. They were all home goods and rolls of textiles, hardware items and PEP style clothing stores.

After being given poor advice by seeming Samaritans, who really just wanted to take us to their shop no matter how ill-fitting the category, we (us and the Aussies) decided to suck it up and high-tail back to the fist bus stop we’d made in the morning (where I’d charmed snakes). Fortunately, it was quicker to get there on foot than it had been in the bus – but that’s not to say it was a pleasant walk!

Nonetheless, we found it… And with it an entire road of stalls with the tourist stuff (tees, crafts, parasols, sarees and tunics etc) that we’d all been looking for. We spent a few hours looking at everyone’s stuff and walked away with surprisingly little. Really just tees for the kids, a smattering of gifts, one or two odds and sods for us and (my coup de gras) a lovely leather laptop bag for me.

Getting home was another story. We (by now just Christian and me) walked and walked. We hadn’t realised how far we’d wandered, after the high-tailing which had only begun outside the Old City, within which we were staying. It wasn’t the distance that was the problem, but the darkness from the power failure, hawker-obscured pavements, maverick bikers, garbage everywhere, incessant hooting, puddles and filth. Still, we got back to the hotel quicker than if we’d caught any mode of transport – and we were very grateful to be back in the clean sanctum that was our home for the night.

We’d decided to eat in, and to eat ‘international’. Christian ordered a garlic chicken and noodles dish and I ordered a spag bol, then we also ordered ‘exotic veg au gratin’ to share, mostly because we were curious to see how exotic the veg actually was.

As it turns out, the spag bol was the most exotic! It was a stewy gravy with lumps of mutton (or goat?) served moat-like around a mountain of spaghetti. Not in the slightest bit tomatoey, garlicky, thick or saucy. I suppose we should have predicted that. The exotic veg turned out to be cauliflower, carrots, peas and green beans, which wasn’t really exotic (to us), but was delicious in the creamy cheese sauce with crunchy baked breadcrumbs on top.

Fed and watered, we hit the sack so we’d be rested for the next day’s trek to Surajgarh.

Asia, India, Travelogue

Travelogue ISC 4: Agra

AGRA

19-20 November 2012

As we arrived in Agra, after a 4 hour bus ride from Delhi, we crossed the bridge over Yamuna River, the western most tributary of the river Ganges. Cows and buffaloes were wallowing in it and our guide, Yusef, told that they are like homing pigeons – they go off for the day and return to their owners (in the crush of the dusty dirty town centre) in the evening to get fed and milked.

Like in much of India, the land in Agra is barren and their owners are poor, so there is little food for the livestock bar what little they are given. The water buffalo are revered because they produce more fatty milk than cows, preferred by the Indians. The cows are also seen as holy, said to stem from their role as surrogates providing rich milk for babies who lost their mothers in childbirth, which used to be a frequent occurrence.

The river doesn’t flow as deep as it once did, so there are numerous sand banks. Washer-people stand knee-deep in the water around these and thrash the washing, then spread it out on the sand to dry.

Agra was established as a more central (than Delhi) dispatch area for Indian troops around the country. There are still big army bases in the city, which even as a smaller city still claims a population of 2,6 million people.

We stopped at a garden restaurant for lunch. They had some kids in traditional dress entertaining the guests. There were drums, singing and puppet shows with marionettes in elaborate traditional outfits.

Christian wasn’t feeling 100% (churny belly, inevitable Delhi fall-out) so he had a vegetable curry to up the veg content without losing out on the house speciality entirely. I was feeling aces so had Masala Gost (mutton curry with egg) and garlic naan.

Yusef had offered the group the option to alter our itinerary slightly, moving the Red Fort tour to the next morning so as to allow more time at Taj Mahal, but also meaning we could linger over lunch and have a leisurely stop while checking into our hotel, the Raj Mahal (where we were greeted with marigold garlands). It worked beautifully – and meant we could have a few hours at Taj to include sunset so we could see the subtle change in the colour of the marble.

The monument was built by Shah Janah for his favourite wife, who he’d named Mum Taj Mahal (“Chosen Crown Palace”), as her final resting place after she’d died giving birth to their 14th child. The design was inspired by the description of the Gardens of Paradise and House of Allah in the Qu’ran and it took 20,000 people 22 years day and night to build it. It is perfectly symmetrical, in that it looks exactly the same from all 4 sides; the only deviation from this is the placement of the Shah’s body in the mausoleum, to the left of his wife’s, which is the exact epicentre.

This OCD carried through to every element and the gardens are mirrored on either side, the fountains elevate water to exactly the same height (requiring some quite sophisticated engineering for those times) and there was a mosque sitting to the West of the building that he had mirrored with a perfect replica on the East side (that was used to house visiting dignitaries).

There is conjecture about the Shah ordering the chopping off hands of the workmen when the building was completed so they couldn’t make another Taj, but Yusef claims this is just scandalous rumour and that the king had made extra effort to ensure that the reputation of the building was flawless to maintain his wife’s honour. He was apparently quite shrewd in some of his gestures, like clearing the site by offering the building material leftovers to the people – quite some feat with the high ramps it must have taken to complete the highest sections. Everything was gone in 2 days, when it would have taken months for waged employees to clear it!

Stories aside, it was clearly built to last, having been completed in 1653 and still requiring no restoration, just a river sand mask that peels off all the dirt to give it a clean every few years. It’s just a pity that the Shah didn’t get to complete his dream, which was to build an exact replica (but made from black marble) across the river to be his mausoleum, with a bridge connecting the two. His plan was thwarted when his son put him under house-arrest for the last 8 years of his life, meaning he never got to start the project.

Over time the opposite bank had become home to factories and plants, but the government has closed these down since they posed threat to the Taj not only from pollutants, but from their effect on the river flow. The Taj was built intended to be indestructible to an earthquake up to 8 on the Richter scale (even including details like angling the minarets ever so slightly outward so that in event of earthquake they fall away from the mausoleum, minimising damage), but this all rests in the firm foundation of rubble and bamboo. Affecting the river could mean that the bamboo dries up and the Taj could sink and become vulnerable and unstable.

That would be a real shame. It’s such a prolific icon. At least the authorities are protecting it adequately, with very stringent security checks on entry that even disallow cigarettes and chewing gum – to the point that there are x-rays machines, bag checks and confiscation. Good for them though; looking at the rest of India that we’ve seen so far, it’d be just another big dustbin if left to the hygiene compass of the common people. And there are lots and lots of common people at the Taj. As with at the other sites, there are discounted tickets for locals, but they have to queue for entry into the mausoleum where “high value ticket holders” are ushered in (by gun-wielding police guards) straight from the front of the queue.

After an hour’s repose at the hotel, we were bussed to yet another restaurant for dinner. We were put off by the curry all being on the bone, so opted for a radical change and went Chinese. Every menu has had an entire Chinese section, but we hadn’t even considered before. Very glad we did tonight though – we had the most gorgeous lamb with mushroom and garlic in a rich thick brown gravy as well as a chicken and pineapple in creamy lemon sauce. Both were incredible… And now we’ll have to try Chinese somewhere else to see if it was just that restaurant or if Indians are better at Chinese than SA – and possibly better at Chinese than Indian!

TUESDAY

The next morning kicked off with a visit to Red Fort. The great mughals lived there and the country was governed from there, including the treasury and mint. The mughals were descended from Mongolian mothers and Turkish fathers, hence had oriental eyes and lighter skin from their maternal side and were Muslim from their patronage. Over generations their facial features evolved and their skin darkened as they inter-married with Indians.

The Red Fort has stood in one form or another since 11th century (first written reference was 1060). Rebuild to its current red sandstone form only started in 1560, upgrading it to include additional safety features like the double moat – one with tigers and one with water – and 2 gates at right angles to retard possible charging elephant rams. Above the enormous wooden entrance gates are also windows they could throw stones and boiling oil out of; it’s no wonder nobody ever tried to force entry!

Inside the royal section, where the emperor and his most important harem members lived, was where the illicit goings-on and more indulgent lifestyle happened (opiates and wine, which are forbidden by the Qu’ran but excused in the Palace because of royal status). One of the wives attempted growing grapes to make wine, so an elaborate garden was dug, 10 feet deep with brick dividers to keep the different grapes separated. Of course, the climate wasn’t conducive, so a more conventional, although far from ordinary, garden was made from it, with a thick carpet effect delineated by the swirling brickwork dividers.

Shah Jahan’s prison is adjacent to the gardens. Not the usual jail, made from marble with floral designs inlaid with jasper, turquoise, malachite, onyx and cornellian (called fire stone because it glows when light is shone on it). The torturous part really was that he had a perfect view of his best creation, the Taj Mahal, from his prison… But he couldn’t go there. That, and being imprisoned by his own son of course.

Quite a story really since it was Shah Jahan’s 3rd and 4th sons that colluded to murder the 1st and 2nd sons so they’d be first in line for the throne. Then the 3rd son (Aurangzeb) murdered the 4th son to take out the competition. But since there were only daughters remaining, the 3rd son imprisoned his dad and seized the throne. He reigned for 59 years and wasn’t the usual money-grabber, living a simple(r) life and not taking money from the treasury. But it was he who started driving the wedge between the Muslims and the Hindus.

Back to the bus and off to the marble factory. Different merchandise (to the gemstone factory shop in Bangkok, ‘handicrap’ factory in Viet Nam, carpets in Turkey etc etc), but same hard sell. “No obligation to purchase”, but a salesman breathing down your neck showing equally unattractive pieces at escalating prices – clearly showing pieces that make more sense to his target than our tastes.

It’s a pity because the craftsmanship is painstaking (we were demonstrated the process and had a chance to try the various stages of manufacture) and it really is a fine art that would be far more enjoyable to be able to absorb the showroom like a gallery, appreciating the patience and effort it takes to conceptualise the design, shape the stones and mould the marble to fit – irrespective of how flowery the design and how unlikely it is to ever feature in our lounge (even if it weren’t hundreds of Pounds). But we were more focused on out-running our adversary and responding with vague and polite answers and glazed smiles.

Sikri is the village next to Agra that comes from the Arabic word for ‘thank you’, and was built by Akbar, considered to be the greatest of the Moghals. He ruled from the age of 14, so traded education for his royal duties and was virtually illiterate. Generally very tolerant, he was the first Muslim king to marry a Hindu – even allowing her to continue to practice her religion and build a place to worship and store her religious books in the Red Fort. Akbar also allowed a Portuguese christian missionary to build a church in the fort in Sikri.

The Palace seems a bit excessive for just the emperor and his wives until you consider that his harem was about 2000 women. There are the wives (Islam allows 4), the contract wives (marriage for a limited defined period to save widows’ virtue when their husband passes, lest she be turned to prostitution to support herself), concubines (on a good day used as human pieces in a life-size pachisi board in the recreation courtyard) and slaves.

The Palace at Sikri was short-lived; it took 6 years to complete, but was only lived in for 15 years, including construction time. Akbar had no male heirs so nominated one of his sufi’s (priest / mystic) sons and moved to where the sufi was in order to carry on the moghal line. Unfortunately there was no river here, so he built a dam, but it wasn’t sustainable as a water source so they moved back to Agra.

We left Sikri for the long bus ride to Jaipur, stopping at a restaurant for a buffet lunch, with tandoori and mustard chicken as the stars. We’d been passing through farmlands and Yusef had explained that India theoretically should be the self-sufficient from a food production point of view, being among the top producers of wheat, rice, tea, potatoes and tomatoes. They also produce vast quantities of mustard, ergo the local mustard chicken dish on the buffet.

Chicken is generally a winner as a pretty safe choice. Most of the time when you order beef, it’s likely to be water buffalo, reason being that the God of Death rides a water buffalo so they’re not sacred like cows. Similarly, the mutton is often goat meat. Add to this the fact that almost all curries are described as a combination of tomato/onion/capsicum/thick/rich/pungent/aromatic (or better still, where it is from with no clues to the ingredients), the menu is just the vaguest of guidelines as to what to expect! Today’s lunch was included, expressly for the purpose of having us taste the water buffalo.

India is such a dichotomy. So much pride taken in some things and so much blatant disregard for others. For example, most big trucks are gaily painted (permanent) and decorated with garlands of flowers (possibly just for Diwali), while the shop stalls are dusty little hovels lining streets strewn with litter. At least the cow pats are recycled, being dried and made into methane cakes for fires (we were assured that they don’t smell once dried or burnt), but India really could use more dustbins and a good “zap it in the Zeebie” campaign!

With the dirty dusty state of things, the unconventional (compared to Western) way these towns seem to operate and the vast expanses between towns, I’m very glad we got an organised tour for this part of the trip instead of fashioning our own itinerary online as we usually do. Looking at the conditions and locations of some of these self-proclaimed “resorts”, I doubt we could have come right with all our choices based on the very one-dimensional views our usual websites present – and I’d have hated to end up in dodgy accommodation in the middle of nowhere spending time and money getting to the sights these places claim to be close to.

It had been a pleasure being guided and informed on a luxury bus between the great iconic treasures that this part of the country holds, with convenient and clean hotel rooms guaranteed each night. It was a double bonus that this kind of tour is better priced for us South Africans (at ZAR 4000 a person) than our Aussie counterparts (AUS $2000 per person).

Asia, India, Travelogue

Travelogue ISC 3: Delhi

DELHI

17-18 November 2012

We had to laugh when we disembarked from the plane in Delhi and were herded to a bus that would take us to the terminal. That wouldn’t be funny, except we were directly across the roadway from it, so we alighted the bus only to literally make a U-turn and get off at the other side of the road!

The airport was a bit more inspiring than Mumbai’s. Newer, cleaner, more modern. And it was a blessing to be met by our tour driver so we didn’t have to think or negotiate transfers. The traffic in Delhi is just as chaotic, although the roads seems to be wider and better maintained in general. There’s still no adherence to road markings and cars, vans and rickshaws straddling the white line is quite common. More of the bike-riders don helmets (very rare in our experiences so far) and there are lots of “don’t drink and drive” billboards; maybe the two are connected. Also hootinghootinghooting, but with requests for hooting painted on the back of most trucks, one shouldn’t expect any less and clearly it’s seen as serving to warn of approach, not signal aggression.

Our hotel is great; nothing short of amazing as compared with the others we’ve stayed in so far! Weirdly, it had no windows because it wa wedged in the middle of a block with neighbours on all sides except the narrow slit of an entrance. I bright-sided that this should make for a good sleep, based on my experience of the inside cabin on the South East Asia cruise and how the pitchest of pitch black made for coma sleep. The hotel is well positioned and mercifully stocked with tourist street maps, so we were soon sent on our merry way to go and explore.

We caught a Metro from a block down to Karol Bagh (8 Rupees each, just over R1,30), which is a shopping district. We been briefed by the hotel concierge that we were to ask for discount in the formal shops and bargain with the stalls for as much as 70% off. We didn’t end up doing any shopping though because what we weren’t prepared for was the chaos – cars hooting their way through hordes of shoppers, not helped by the double- and triple-parked lurkers on either side; dirty with litter everywhere; spitting seemingly culturally acceptable, but entirely disgusting. We ratified the trip with a chicken Momo plate from a street vendor, who served the 6 little dumplings with a searingly hot red chilli relish. Burning aside, it was a great snack (and a bargain at R5).

Then it was back on the Metro to Connaught Place, which had been recommended to us by a chap at the shack as being civilised concentric circles of shops and entertainment. It was exactly that, big fancy shops and recognisable brand name stores (both Indian and international) – with the usual cloud of cars and spray of street vendors.

Wearied by our ‘shopping’, we accepted an invite into Knight’s, a restaurant and lounge upstairs overlooking the hubbub. Cold Kingfishers welcomed, with the sting of double the price being counter-balanced by the 2-for-1 happy hour (from midday to 8.30p m).

One turned to several and soon we’d (been) befriended (by) a soldier originally from Goa now stationed up North, who spoke little to no English. Made for laboured conversation, but we persevered. We were also in high demand to be in pictures and posed here and there with anyone who asked; all quite bizarre, but easy to comply. Got carried away a bit and ended up missing dinner entirely (fortunately we’d been compulsively eating for 4 days so were hardly likely to starve).

We were well in time for the last train though, but got hopelessly lost returning to the hotel from the Metro station (losing bearings from having mistakenly taken the opposite platform to the one on the way out, meaning we were on the block across the line from where we were supposed to be), so it ended up being quite a late night.

SUNDAY

Breakfast was adequate with a meagre buffet of chaffing dishes offering boiled eggs, baked beans, some traditional creamy corn thing, french toast and a flat bread of sorts, as well as the usual fruits, cereals, toast and juice. Was nice enough… But what we really needed was a good old greasy fry-up to get us going!

8.30 we met our tour guide, Yusuf, and the rest of our group. There are 15 people on our tour (mostly Saffas, with 3 Aussies and 2 Brits). We have a full sized bus (luxury, aircon, with a glass door partitioning us from the driver to maintain the temperature) so there’s lots of room to stretch out. Probably the least populated part of this city with its 20 million people!

The tour started in Old Delhi at the Red Fort – Captain Obvious’ly named because it’s made from red sandstone so the building is red in colour. New Delhi was built by the British, but the ‘new’ is a bit of an oversell since a large portion of the buildings were built a hundred years ago. The fort initiates with a high roofed tunnel in the fort walls housing a Chhatta Chowk (covered bazaar), which is apparently unusual in Delhi. The fort complex contains several buildings, including the Court, Rang Mahal (Palace of Colours, mahal means palace), and Diwan-i-Khas (Hall of VIPs) with its hand-made floral art made from precious stone inlays and the famous inscription “if there is paradise on Earth, it is this, it is this, it is this” (clearly this person had never been to Goa). It’s reassuring to see that most of these buildings are still all original materials in very good nick, even though tourists can walk into most parts of most buildings and through the expansive gardens.

We caught bicycle rickshaws outside the fort which took us past the mosques and temples and through some of the narrow shopping streets (grungy and dirty with electricity lines webbing between buildings), and deposited us at the main Mosque. It technically holds 20,000 people, but could exceed this on Fridays. It’s 360 years old still with all the original parts, the only difference being water piped to the central fountain for hands and feet washing, which used to be manually brought bucket by bucket from the river.

According to our guide, contrary to what I’d imagine global trend to be, religion is expanding in India. People can only be a Hindu or Muslim by birth and the population is expanding; uncertain times have people clinging to religion because they’re scared of world aggression and poverty and need something positive to believe in. Hard work though this Islam story, with its five prayer times every day!

We then moved on to Gandhi’s final resting place, a mausoleum where his ashes are accompanied by an eternal flame and orange floral wreaths atop a plain grey marble housing, with Gandhi’s final words inlaid in bronze (2 words, ‘her ram’ which means ‘my God’ in Hindi). Suitably simple structure for a fella who got by on a bowl of rice and a safety pin, with lovely surrounding gardens that speak to his quest for peace and serenity when he was alive.

On the way to lunch we past the India Gate arch, built in 1929 to pay homage to the soldiers fallen in World War 1 (India lost 80,000 men even though they weren’t officially part of the war; each one of these men’s names are inscribed on the inside arch of the monument). There are gardens and lawns surrounding it and, as the tour guide says, anywhere there’s any open space, a game of cricket will start. True to form, there were several games going on.

Way overdue, we were relieved to arrive at our lunch spot – Have More curry house, renowned for it’s award-winning Best Butter Chicken in Delhi status. Of course we had to try it and can confirm that it’s amazing, especially with the boneless tikka chicken they use. We paired it with a mutton saag wala (spinach), which was a bit off-putting being almost black, but what it lacked in appearance it more than made up for in taste. We had sides of garlic naan and garlic and onion kulcha.

We made a turn past the presidential palace (all 380 rooms of it!), but couldn’t stop because of security so it was just a ‘take snaps from the bus’ thing. Then proceeded to have a nap on the bus on the ride over to South Delhi.

We awoke on arrival at the Qutub Archeological complex, which is home to the tallest stone minaret in the world, which is over 800 years old. The minaret was a display of power by the Muslims to demarcate the Eastern edge of the Muslim religion’s reach (with the West being Spain). The minaret has 5 distinctive sections with different shape stones, balconies between sections that use screws (very advanced technology for this time) and extends 72,5 metres into the sky off it’s 14m base… And even that’s less than 3/4 of the height of Taj Mahal!

The complex also has a mosque that was abandoned before completion because the Muslims had used stones from a Hindu temple to build it and only realised half way in that this wasn’t going to work because the stones have pictures of humans and animals, which is not allowed in a mosque. You’d think someone would have noticed sooner before the poor humpers had to schlep those heavy stones around the place and the poor Hindus had to lose their temple for nothing! Nonetheless, the arches, carvings, Qu’ran inscriptions and 1600 year old iron flagpole all made for interesting enough gandering.

There was merit in group tour sight-seeing. We usually make our own plans as we go along, but the pre-organisation of the tour company has meant that we didn’t really have to think or queue, which has been a blessing. We hadn’t had to manage any ticket buying or handling at any of the sights, as these were all pre-arranged, but I imagined they get discounts for group buying.

All the sights have had different prices for Indians and for tourists (as much as 25 times more for tourists, with 250 Rupee vs 10), but good on them for making it easy for their people to experience their history and learn about their culture. Someone quoted that the average Indian has to survive on 200 Rupees a day and I had spent that before I’d left the hotel room on a bottle of water to brush my teeth with!

The group was also a manageable size so there hadn’t been any lingerers holding the group up. Typically, the (South African) Indians all seem to stick together, the Aussies have packed and we had bonded with the Brits, who were really well-travelled so it was nice to swap stories and where to and how to advice.

We had an hour to freshen up and then back in the bus to cross town to an (allegedly) famous restaurant, called Chor Bizarre. The reception was decorated with framed certificates of their awards, so they must have been doing something right. We had a veritable feast served to us plated for starters and desert and mese-style main courses in multiple dishes spread across the length of the table. We had: Popadoms Paneer (cheese) Keema (mince kebab) Tandoori chicken Dahl (lentils) Butter chicken Lamb in yoghurt sauce Paneer in spinach Aloo jeera (potatoes sauteed in onion, garlic, ginger and cumin) Rice Naan Gulab jamun

Well fed and ready for bed, we headed back to the hotel to pack and ready for our departure to Agra bright and early in the morning.