Shanghai, November 3, 2007 (Saturday)
Today I am officially playing a tourist. On a tour bus. With a tour guide. With a portable speaker system. Yes, it was inevitable. I did the math, and economically speaking, it was cheaper and less of a hassle for me to go with a tour group, since lunch, transportation, and all admission tickets were included in the price of the tour.
So where did I go? To grossly misquote Marco Polo, I was going to Hangzhou, “heaven on earth”, a small town about 2 hours outside of Shanghai. It is home to the famously beautiful West Lake, where many an ancient poet has gotten drunk on, and written amazingly beautiful verse about.
I bought a ticket for a Chinese tour, that is, not your sterile, safe, Grayline tour where the guide is English-speaking, and everything is carefully chosen for the western palette. I was going hard-core domestic Chinese tourist here. (By the way, the tourism industry here is driven primarily by domestic Chinese tourists, not non-Chinese foreign tourists, as is the common misconception. The Chinese are earning more, and thus, have more resources to enjoy leisure activities, such as traveling on tour buses to see famous sites and snapping many, many pictures. And wearing matching hats or buttons silkscreened with tour companies’ names. But we’ll get to that later.) Bottom line, the Chinese tour cost a third of the Gayline tour, so obviously, I was gonna go local. The catch is, of course, that I had to go to the bus, because unlike Grayline tours, the Chinese tour bus was not coming to pick me up at my hotel. No problem. The tour bus station was right near a metro stop so I got up bright and early and made it to the bus station by 8:30am.
The whole bus was full of Chinese tourists, some on the two-day tour, and only a handful, me included, on the one-day tour. The bus had AC, and was relatively comfortable. My one beef, as always, is the fact that I am, without fail, always stuck behind some dude who insists on reclining his seat fully back immediately upon being seated. And unlike an airplane, there is no flight attendant telling him that seat trays and seatbacks need to be in a full upright position.
The tour guide, a defeated-looking middle-aged dude, who reminds me a bit of my cousin, asked the one-day tourists to identify themselves, provide hometown info, and a mobile phone number. When he got to me, I found it easier to say I’m from Hong Kong, so I fibbed. I figure it’s more prudent to say you’re from Hong Kong than the US, as A) many Chinese tend to think Americans are wealthy and I didn’t need that stigma; and B) saying I’m from Hong Kong gives me just the right balance of belonging, and not belonging, if that makes any sense. Also, it’s common for Hong Kongers to travel Mainland China, and also common that they not be able to speak fluent Mandarin, or to bumble through it with a Cantonese accent, as I do.
The dude who ended up sitting next to me reminded me of an old uncle, and it turns out he’s from Guangzhou, and speaks fluent Cantonese. We exchanged niceties, and then he went promptly to sleep, and I turned up the iPod volume.
The drive to Hangzhou is about 2 hours, give or take 30 minutes. It went by pretty quickly, with the last 30 minutes being occupied with the tour guide mechanically giving us an overview of Hangzhou and the day’s itinerary. I think I understood about 60% of what he was saying. I did get that he was an anti-chewing gum crusader, though. He showed the most signs of life when describing the evils of chewing gum, especially its improper disposal. He was quite passionate about the topic, actually, spending a good five minutes or so ranting. I wonder if he had messed up a designer suit, or pair of shoes, or some such trauma, because of a wayward wad of chewing gum…?
We got to Hangzhou at about 11:15am, and as we rode through the city, I kept thinking how this WAS NOT the small town all the guidebooks made it sound like. The city center was well developed, and had its quota of high-rises, five-star hotels, shopping malls and western fast food joints. The first stop we hit was the tourist restaurant. It is a squat building with ample parking for tour buses, a convenience mart, an area hawking “Treasures of Hangzhou”, restrooms, and two huge dining rooms. Its very existence relies on the business of tourists. Thankfully (for them at least) there is no shortage of tourists. Our guide warned us that it would be crowded, as it was the weekend, and also one of the more pleasant times to visit, weather-wise. He was not kidding. Guys, imagine all the people you know in the world, times 1000, packed into the same building, vying for the same restrooms. And imagine them wearing nylon trucker caps emblazoned with some tour company’s logo. My goodness, it was bedlam. Especially in the restrooms. A riot almost broke out when one dragon lady in a red cap thought another (I think she was in a blue cap) had cut in front of her. It was like some alternate universe gang fight. Ladies, can’t we all just get along? We’re all Chinese, we’re all women, we’re all wearing crappy trucker caps, and we all need to pee.
After that lovely interlude of precious relief, we were herded to our tables. His was a no-frills place. The server brought over huge dishes of a set menu, lots of veg, tofu, fish, and meat. We got bowls, chopsticks, and were told to go for it. No napkins, no beverages. We all dug in, very matter of factly. We didn’t know each other, but we shared a table, and a meal, quite amicably, silent except for the sounds of eating. It was surprisingly pleasant, actually.
We were herded out after 15 minutes, as another bus had arrived and needed our table. This place had amazing turnaround. The volume of people served must be mind-boggling, if the sea of parked tour buses is any indication.
Our first stop was the amazingly beautiful West Lake. I wish I could throw some cool facts at you, but the guide spoke in Mandarin, through a portable (and tinny) PA system, which meant I didn’t pick up very much. Speaking of PA systems…there were many guides with cool portable mikes like our guide..and then I spied one lady with a kid’s megaphone. I kid you not. It was bright yellow with sparkly animal stickers all over it, and looked exactly like something you’d find in a toy store. Amazing. How much did that tour cost?!!!
We boarded a cool boat with a dragon head on it, and zipped across West Lake, admiring the views. It was sunny, clear day, and we were able to see the Hangzhou shoreline on one end, and the misty mountains dotted with tea on the other. As we cut smoothly across the clear water, I could absolutely see how this lake inspired many a poet and artist. We disembarked at one of the several islands on the lake, and walked along the shore for some obligatory photo ops. Then we strolled through a maze of bridges to a pavilion over water housing bright orange carp the size of dogs. No joke, man…those fish were huge.
A few more photo ops, and then onto the boat again, where we were taken to the other end of West Lake, where our tour bus was waiting for us. A short drive through the increasingly rural area, and I was able to see what all the hype about Hangzhou was about. The countryside is gorgeous. Misty mountains, rows and rows of verdant tea bushes, residents shooting the breeze on a lazy afternoon with their clear glasses of green tea seeping…this would almost be enough to convince me to forgo cable and set up shop here. Almost.
We arrived at a silk factory next. Hangzhou is famous for its fine silks. This was another popular tourist trap, and we knew we’d be in for a hard sell. And we were. But we did get to see the whole process of silk production, as the factory set up a hands on exhibit showing how the silk is produced. I was able to refrain from buying anything, as the Shanghai residents on the tour felt that you could get the same (if not better) products in Shanghai for less.
Our next stop was a tea plantation. Another popular tourist trap. More hard sell. We did get to sample some lovely green tea. They brewed it in a very interesting manner, without a teapot. They placed dried green tea leaves into clear highball glasses, then pour in water just off the boil. Steep gently, then drink. The tea lady was saying that the leaves are edible, so a popular term “eating tea” has come into the tea lexicon. We sipped, and nibbled, and I thought it was just lovely. Think of it as a calorie-less, non-sweet, tapioca tea. This time, I couldn’t resist and purchased a tin of tea, packed right before my very eyes from the latest harvest.
Our final stop of the day was the Ling Yin Temple (or Temple of the Lost Souls). As with all of our stops today, the place was just teeming with tourists. Our tour guide had warned us about proper behavior in the temple, how we should be respectful, quiet, not take pictures inside the actual worship halls, and how, if we obtained (er, purchased) any charms or blessings, we should donate the change to the temple. (The temple priced things at amounts where there will be 1 or 2 yuan in change…the numbers are symbolic of certain teachings in Buddhist scripture) I think the guide is a devout Buddhist…He showed us a charm that he carries with him all the time that he had obtained from the temple.
I should also clarify that the temple is on a park with various historical relics and statuary. For example, there is a whole cavernous mountain that has various images of Buddha carved into it. The temple proper requires another admission fee that is separate from the fee that allows entry into the park. We were given an hour of independent exploration in the park, and I opted to explore the caves first while the rest of the group went into the main temple. The carvings in the mountain were amazingly intricate; the path up the mountain was amazingly treacherous. I toned my legs more in the 15 minutes it took to climb that path than my entire life,. You see, it’s about isometric training. Every step was carefully made, as each rock was shiny and worn, and ergo, slippery. So I made my way very very carefully up, and down, the mountain. The carvings were worth it though. Simply awe-inspiring.
Couple of things to rant, er, comment on: Ladies in three inch heels climbing the mountain. Specifically, a lady in studded three inch boots blithely making her way up and around the mountain, with a toddler, no less. Another beef: Incessant picture-taking. I get that we’re all tourists, and that we want to remember our visit, and that digital cameras are fabulous. But must everyone take pictures of everyone in front of everything? All the digi-cam snapping got tired really quick…and why the same pose, with the victory sign, even in a picture with a Buddha statue? Sigh.
After that sore, but inspiring interlude, I made my way over to the main temple, paid my admission, and walked in. The relics are amazing. Golden statues twenty feet high, friezes intricately carved with Buddhist chants…everything was big and bold and grand. There were many people with joss sticks and incense praying seriously, but for some reason, the sight was not as moving as the one from Jing An Temple in Shanghai. Perhaps because in addition to the presence of the faithfully devout in this temple, there were also many, many, many tourists snapping pictures at every chance, some ignoring the signs asking that pictures not be taken inside the areas of worship. Grrr. Also, oddly enough, the grandness of the relics, with their precious materials, and large size, gave off an air of ostentatiousness. The carved statues in the mountain and caves emitted a simpler, quieter, more natural and organic aura.
We left the temple and park, amid many hawkers of incense, toys, and snacks, and made our way back onto the bus, for our return trip to Shanghai. We made a pit stop at the tourist restaurant where we had lunch, in order to load up on snacks for the ride back. OK, have I waxed poetic about snacks here yet? If not, here I go. The snacks here are awesome. I must admit I am not super adventurous on the snacking front, as my tastes are simple: fried, crunchy, laden with salt and MSG. The chip flavors here are the bomb. Lay’s makes a fried chicken flavor (very rich and chicken-y), a pepper steak flavor (sweet and peppery), and a red wine roasted chicken flavor (very sweet). Enough said. That more than makes up for the ketchup flavor and the cucumber flavor. (Ed. Note: Cucumber? WTF?) I have yet to try the seafood flavor yet, but that’s on the list. One of the Asian brands makes a Thai Beef Curry flavor, which is quite good as well. For the more adventurous, there are also individually wrapped vacuum-packed braised chicken feet, duck gizzards, and chicken wings. I tried the chicken feet, hoping they would taste like the flavorful chicken feet from dim sum houses, but alas, it was lacking in flavor, and overcompensating in gelatinous goo. I do like the shredded beef and pork, sweet-tinged beef and pork jerky and fried cuttlefish. As for sweets, I have a soft spot for Pocky. You know Pocky, the sweet cracker sticks, that are dipped into various toppings? Pocky toppings include dark chocolate, coffee, milk tea, white chocolate, caramel, and strawberry. And they also make pretzel versions. Bliss.
One more thing about snacks: people love bringing and eating snacks EVERYWHERE. At the concerts, on the bus, on the metro. You can always hear the crunch and crackle of plastic wrappers being ripped open. Like music to my ears. I found it refreshing that there are no “No food or drinks allowed” rules, though I do wish people would make better use of the trash bins a bit more. It’s not too bad, though. And the tree hugger in me is glad to see that many trash receptacles have a separate recyclable receptacle attached, and there is a widespread energy conservation public awareness campaign afoot.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment