BATHROOMS: In the world’s cans

Everyone’s gotta GO at some point, so here are some of my most memorable bathrooms:

PARIS - This is a sanisette, found on most major streets. Drop 40 cent euro in the slot and the door slides open. Once you’re inside, a sensor closes and locks the door.

After you finish your business and leave, the door shuts and a high-pressure disinfectant spray automatically cleans the toilet!

But don’t try to cheat the system, even if you’re out of change. Some friends of ours tried to prop the door open to sneak in a second session - and she got attacked by disinfectant.

Apparently, the city of Paris has started to convert the pay toilets to free earlier this year. Bonus!

GAOCHANG, CHINA - This is as close as I could get to these bathrooms without gagging. Thus, no close-ups. They LOOK upscale for the middle of the Gobi desert but really they’re just glorified holes in the ground.

Still, it beats peeing on ancient ruins.

As always, I followed the rules of the squat toilet: bring your own Kleenex, roll up the pant legs to above the knees, take a deep breath and hold as long as possible while doing the bizness. Retreat outside and rub hands with sanitizer.

CHICAGO - This is my latest happy find. The toilets at the O’Hare airport have automatic changing seat covers.

Wave your hand over the sensor on the wall, and a new plastic seat cover slides neatly into place. Very sanitary. I like it.

 

SHANGHAI: Stinky tofu

Fried. Dried. Smelly. Tofu.
Yeah that’s what it says.

 

SILK ROAD TOUR: 50 Chinese people and one white guy

I suppose I should’ve posted this from the get-go. Here’s a map of our trip. From Beijing to the Silk Road then south to Shanghai at the end. (Thanks to my sister for that graphic. She’s a professional for hire.)

In our group was me, my sister, our boyfriends, our parents — and 45 Chinese people from Vancouver. Have fun playing “Where’s Waldo” with the photo below. My boyfriend Jason is the one who’s not Chinese.

My parents have run a travel agency for 20-plus years. These days, they’re specializing in tours to China. (I’d put a link here, but their site’s not up yet. They can safely navigate hordes of Chinese-Canadians through foreign countries but still no site. Go figure.)

I don’t think we could’ve navigated this part of the world without their tour. But organized tours are not for the faint of heart.

• It’s highly regulated: wake-up call 5:30, breakfast 6:15, bathroom 7:12, bus by 7:15.

• It’s noisy: a bus full of 50 Chinese people? You betchya it’s rowdier than a Harry Potter midnight release party.
• It’s aggravating: one late person makes for one late group. One lost suitcase makes for a lot of waiting on a bus, watching bad Chinese karaoke videos. (Are there any good karaoke videos?)
• Group photos: enough said.

But there are good things too.

• No worries: meals, tickets, translation, transportation, and accommodation are all taken care of. These are quality restaurants and hotels tried and trusted by the agency. (If you’ve got a good one.)

• Security: everyone watches out for each other. And when Jason got a sore throat, fellow tourmates offered up three different kinds of lozenges.
• Discounts: better bargaining power in bulk.
• Endless entertainment: making fun of the sleeping, drooling person down the row never gets old. Especially if it’s my sister.

 

BEIJING: No-dumping dumplings

One of my biggest peeves is Chinese restaurants that list “dumpings” on their menu. I mean, is it really that hard to stick an L in there? And you wonder why some people are afraid to eat in Chinatown.

But in Beijing, dumplings are serious business. We were travelling with a dozen other tourmates, who insisted on sampling the city’s finest before we left.

Unfortunately, the only time we had for that was AFTER our Peking duck dinner. Ohh, my poor tummy. But I bravely soldiered on.

We ordered the house special — 16 different plates of dumplings. They were all freshly hand-wrapped by an efficient assembly line of ladies in white jackets and hats behind a big glass. Too bad we never saw them wash their hands. But hey, they’re dumpling professionals.

The dumplings came with containers of soy sauce, vinegar, green onions and garlic. You made your own dipping sauce with them depending on your tastes.

Most of the dumplings were steamed, with two or three that were pan-fried. We couldn’t keep count of which plates we tried. I mean, they all looked the same. From what I can remember, there was

• pork with leeks
• carrots with onions
• shrimp with carrots
• chicken with green onions
• leeks with carrots
• shrimp and pork with leeks

You get the picture. We were dumplinged out. Oh my poor tummy.

 

SHANGHAI: Snake, turtle and drunken chicken

Xiao Nan Guo (”Little Southern Country”) is the place to go for classic comfort food in Shanghai. So it was a great last supper on our trip after two weeks of northern cuisine.

The cold appetizers were refreshing, especially the drunken chicken which I always find quite bland elsewhere. Here, it was served in a clay urn, still soaking in Chinese rice wine.

The braised pork knuckle had that thick gorgeous dark brown layer of fat on top, with oh-so-tender meat underneath, all in a nice soy-sauce based gravy.

Then came two dishes I’ve never tried before.

Sauteed turtle was served in a bamboo basket on top of glutinous rice. Cooking the turtle’s shell turned the rice black, but there wasn’t much turtle meat or anything. Other than the colour, this didn’t taste much different from regular sticky rice. (We forgot to snap a photo.)

The next dish was finger-lickin’ good - the deep-fried snake handled like chicken wings. But instead of ranch dressing, there was peppercorn salt for dipping. It was surprisingly tasty. And yes, it tastes like chicken.

For reservations at any of Xiao Nan Guo’s seven Shanghai locations, call 3208-9777.

 

XINJIANG: Cute Kid 4

I know it’s probably cruel to snap a photo when a kid is crying but really, he’s too cute.

He was running around and crashed into another boy who was running around. Hence, the crying.

I gave him candy. Doesn’t that make it better?

 

SHANGHAI: Clinton was here

After almost two weeks of lamb and noodles in northern China, it was a nice change to sit down to something different in Shanghai.

We had a great lunch at the very elegant Ruijin Hotel. The estate was built by the Morriss family who owned the oldest English newspaper in China. The colonial buildings and gorgeous gardens fill a city block, and its elegant gates filter out Shanghai’s noise and traffic.

Ruijin’s most notable fame of late is the fact President Bill Clinton ate lunch here. I dunno. My parents thought it was a big deal.

Our meal began with a choice of freshly squeezed orange or grapefruit juice. Believe me, after the lukewarm pop and beer in Xinjiang and Gansu, the juice was heavenly. The service was impeccable, and the food fabulous.

The chefs here are famous for their pastries. I guess that’s why three different sweets were served during lunch. This one was filled with ground nuts, and detailed to look like a walnut. Cool eh?

 

LANZHOU: Bingling Temple

Lanzhou has a dubious reputation as one of China’s most polluted cities, if not the world. That’s because it sits in a narrow curving river valley which traps all the smog from the city’s countless steel factories and petroleum plants.

So why are we here? Because Lanzhou is the starting point to the Bingling Temple. And getting there is the best part.

As our bus makes its way out of the city of 2.6 million people, the smog clears and we’re surrounded by winding hills. Terrace fields are carved into the slopes, a system of farming that prevents water loss and soil erosion.

We can also see wavy fishnet-like patterns on the hill, left by herds of grazing goats.

After about two hours, we arrive at the Liujiaxia dam, one of China’s biggest hydropower stations. From there, we get on speedboats for an hour-long trip to Bingling.

As we zoom along the Yellow River, jagged craggy cliffs rise up on either side. We skim the water, hugged by a landscape painting. Clear blue sky, watercolour hilltops, jade green water. It’s like being surrounded by the Badlands or the Grand Canyon, but better.

The speedboats land at the bottom of a flight of stairs. We’ve arrived at Bingling, but there’s more walking ahead. Past the odd monk or two, past the construction crews building a museum, past the stands selling “antiques,” over a creek, and up more stairs.

Here begins the Thousand Buddha Caves even though there are only 183. Bingling is unique because of its setting, and the fact it’s untouched by European treasure hunters or vandals of the Cultural Revolution.

The first thing you see is the 27-metre high Maitreya Buddha. Then there are other Buddhist stautes and carvings of various sizes tucked into the caves. Like the Mogao Caves, these are in amazing condition and showcase the changing art styles through the centuries.

A word of advice: make sure you go to the bathroom before the bumpy one-hour speedboat ride. The facilities here are basic, at least until they finish all the construction to turn this into a full-fledged tourist attraction. Probably bad for the atmosphere, but good for your bladder.

 

WEST LAKE: Lotus land

Chinese people eat a lot of lotus. Lotus root, lotus seed, lotus paste, lotus leaves (wrapped around sticky rice) — it all comes from this plant! I had no idea. Very pretty. Especially on the banks of Hangzhou’s West Lake.

 

DUNHUANG: Hot cross stones

Here’s another one of those “cooking at your table displays” I like so much. They brought out a wok and stir-fried beef and onions in it — with heated rocks. No stove or oven, just hot rocks.

I think this was a restaurant gimmick more than a local delicacy. But it smelled great and tasted pretty darn good.

 

HANGZHOU: Dragon Well tea

In the hills surrounding Hangzhou’s infamous West Lake grows the famous Dragon Well green tea. Chinese emperors and poets have praised it for centuries. Many people believe it can fight viruses, control high blood pressure and prevent cancer. (I guess the clinical trials are still out on that one.)

One legend says a monk asked a dragon to help end a drought that threatened the tea crops. The dragon granted him a spring that never dried out, hence the name Dragon Well.

The tea is picked by hand, starting at the end of March and through October. Then the distinctive flat leaves are roasted by hand in tea-cauldrons heated to 25 degrees Celsius. Dragon Well is prized for its fresh, unique, mellow taste. I’m no connoisseur but it was nice.

Leaves picked just before a festival on April 5 are the most valued. Those used to be reserved for the emperor’s court. You can take home a kilogram of the highest grade for about $140 Can.

The visit to the plantation includes a live infomerical from a very persuasive saleswoman, extolling the health benefits of Dragon Well, while her assistants serve you their signature tea in clear glasses. For the money they’re raking in on tea leaves, they could at least trot out mugs with handles.

Dragon Well exports its lesser grade tea to two chains in North America. The top grade is reserved for selling locally.

 

HANGZHOU: Vegas, baby, Vegas

Moving south, we spent some time in Hangzhou, a pretty city just two hours from Shanghai but without the smog or constant traffic jams. And only Hangzhou can boast that it’s home to Song Dynasty Town! Okay, so it’s not as catchy as Disneyland but it is just as weird.

Song Dynasty Town is a theme park built around the civilization of the Song Dynasty (960 - 1279 AD), a kind of renaissance for Chinese culture. Like in Europe, progress was made in technology, trade, education and governance.

The streets, buildings and displays are designed to look like you just stepped into that era. But that doesn’t explain this weird obstacle course that looks like it came out of MXC, Japan’s Most Extreme Elimination Challenge.

But this was no badly dubbed game show and there were no prizes, yet people kept trying to run across the floating platforms and splashing in.

The park itself is your standard minimum-wage workers trussed up in period costume, hawking souvenirs, photos and roasted chickens.

But the gem of this park is the Vegas-like show offered twice a night in the Vegas-like auditorium. The Romance of the Song Dynasty sounds like a boring historic drama, but what romance do you know opens with high-flying trampoline antics and segues into wire-flying dancers with a full-on laser show?

It was too much — the oh-my-god contortionists, the glow-in-the-dark burlesque, the Japanese geisha number, the flying girls on rollerskates, the moving stage, the two-storey waterfall, the life-sized cannons, the real horses thundering across the stage — so much that I forgot to take any pictures until the very end.

Actually I only took one. And it’s pretty crappy, especially with the crazy audience members who clambered onstage to pose for photos. But go to Song Dynasty Land and see the show! It’s awesome.

 

CHINA: Journeys by train

Train travel is one of the cheapest ways to see China. It is also one of the most aggravating.

Lining up on a train platform is the best way to rub shoulders with real Chinese citizens. And it ain’t pretty. I can guarantee you will be shoved, elbowed and stepped on. The driving mentality in any lineup in this country is to get as close as possible to the front. It doesn’t matter where the lineup is going or what it leads to. They don’t care.

Case in point. We had lined up patiently at the doors leading to our train platform for Jiayuguan. A group of four men started trying to push into the middle of our group.

“Hey! What are you doing?” yelled my dad.

“We’re getting into the line! We’ve got tickets!” they yelled back.

There ensued a very long, very loud argument. Despite the fact a ticket collector came to our aid, and the fact the men had tickets to a different train and a different platform, they were incensed that they weren’t allowed to budge into our line.

Once the doors opened, it was chaos. Everyone sprinted to the train — old ladies dragging little kids, men with huge bags on their shoulders — they bolted.

We had paid a little extra for assigned seats in a non-smoking car. Well, we soon figured out why the footrace to the train. All of our reserved seats were taken. It took my dad, another tour guide and two police officers all using their “forceful” voices before the seat thieves reluctantly took their stuff and left.

I can’t imagine what travelling by train would be like if we weren’t with my parents and their friends who can all hold their ground in Mandarin.

We settled into our seats and enjoyed four hours of intermittent horking (I shudder to think exactly where the hork was going), smoking (in our non-smoking car) and people’s dirty socks and shirts hung up on the curtain rods.

 

MOGAO CAVES: Hidden treasures

The Mogao Caves near Dunhuang is one of the most breathtaking places I’ve ever visited. Unfortunately, photography is forbidden — you have to check in your camera at the gate — so it’s hard to explain why this stop left such an impression.

In 366 A.D., a monk saw a vision of a thousand Buddhas in the rays of light sparkling in the cliffs. He began carving there and through 10 centuries, other pilgrims added carvings and murals to honour Buddha and ensure their own safe journeys.

More than 450 caves were carved out of the rocks. As one of the world’s most valuable collections of Buddhist art, the caves feature perfectly preserved murals, detailed carvings and giant statues.

Several dozen caves are open to the general public and all are locked behind doors to keep out the elements. Visitors must be escorted by cave guides at all times. Besides, they’re the only ones with keys.

We trooped from the sunlight into the darkness of cave #96. I saw the curve of some gigantic knees and drapery. I looked up and realized I was staring at a stunning nine-storey high statue of Buddha. In a cave.

The ceiling of another featured thousands of painted buddhas. Even with the bright daylight outside, they could be seen with only flashlights.

The guide explained that painters could not work by candlelight to do the delicate ceiling detail, since the smoke would have ruined their work. Instead, they used mirrors to reflect light into the cave.

The mandatory guide system annoys many people. Visitors can only enter in groups of 20 or more. So if you’re travelling solo or as a couple, you must wait to join others who speak the same language. Plus they charge more for English-speaking guides.

The caves you actually visit depend on which ones your guide feels like opening. Luckily, our group was made of up major nerds who asked lots of questions. That made our guide happy, so she let us into a few caves regular tourists don’t normally see.

But she didn’t show us the caves with the explicit tantric scenes. That costs extra.

 

FLAMING MOUNTAINS: Hot monkey

When I was a kid, I remember reading picture books about a kung-fu fighting monkey king. He had a friend named Pigsy who liked to drink. Sometimes there was a monk, and sometimes they undertook noble challenges.

The Monkey King is the hero of a classic Chinese novel, The Journey to the West, featuring Chinese legends and superstitions. It’s based on the true journey of Xuan Zang, a famous monk who set out on foot to bring Buddhist scriptures from India. In the book, the Flaming Mountains block his way back to China.

In real life, the sun is supposed to highlight the Flaming Mountains’ red sandstone making them look like they’re on fire.

I just thought it was hot. Really really hot. The world’s largest thermometer backed me up. It read 38 degrees.