Langzhong

Winter Holiday, Part 2.

When we arrived in Chengdu, we had all sorts of plans for weekend sightseeing around the city and the surrounding areas.  There were a couple of mountains to climb, the biggest Buddha in the world to take a picture in front of, a gorgeous nature reserve, and of course, the pandas that Chengdu is famous for.  Unfortunately, bad weather ruled out the mountains and the nature reserve, and Justin didn't want to get up so early for the pandas, and we all had fizzled brains from language study, so... one trip.  One.  And to a place that hadn't even made the possibilities list when we were planning grand adventures.
Langzhong.  One of the few "old" cities in China that retains the feel of an ancient way of life.  So, we went.
It took more effort than we'd thought.
In theory, it should've been a couple of local bus rides to the long-distance bus station, then a five-hour ride on that.  No problem.  We packed snacks, a lunch, some water, and plenty of activities for Connor, plus clothes and stuff for the weekend.  It ended up being quite a bit to carry, but no big deal, we were going to be riding the bus for maybe 45 minutes then stowing most of it under the long-distance bus.
Uh-huh.
We got on the first bus, no problem (other than a 20 minute wait).  I should probably remind you here about my lack of directional sense.  Remember?  Wade shares this quality with me.  Perhaps not as severe, but he is not a guy who can figure his way around, map or no map.  So Justin and Leah were in charge of watching for the correct stop to change buses.
Get the mental image here -- all of use with massive backpacks and one or two extra bags hanging on our arms (or toddlers hanging on our hips, as the case may be), smushed into a crowded bus (is there any other kind?), craning our necks at awkward angles to keep an eye out for the stops.  The frosty windows didn't help matters, either.
So, I've just gotten a seat with Connor (yay!) and Justin hollers "this is our stop!" and we shove our way past irritated passengers and jump off the bus.
Wrong stop.
My apologizes to the hubbie, but the man did make a wrong call.  He saw the sign for the street we needed, but we were a couple of blocks away from the correct end of the street.
So we walked.  And walked.  And walked.
Freezing cold, carrying Connor and bags of stuff we now were wishing we'd left behind, wondering how much further it was and if we should just take a taxi.  But no, we're all frugal people (we try not to think of ourselves as cheap) and decide that we can walk a ways further.
We find the right bus to transfer onto and climb aboard.  It is, without a doubt, the slowest bus in the world.  Guess how long we ride that bloomin' thing?
2 hours.  2 hours of singing songs to keep Connor occupied.  2 hours of readjusting bags.  2 hours of checking pockets every time someone bumps into you (pickpockets are alive and well in China).
And when we get off at the stop a very kind Chinese woman tells us to, it's not the right one.  We are at the train station, not the long-distance bus station.
Aiya.
So we backtrack and walk for about another hour or so, asking strangers how to get there every now and then and checking a map.  Well, Justin and Leah checked the map.  Wade and I just kept our mouths shut.
We finally get to the long-distance bus, and everything is smooth sailing from there (just arriving four hours later than expected is all) other than the fact that the public restroom doesn't have stalls and I got to pee while three Chinese girls watched avidly.  Luckily, by this point I was too tired to care.
Langzhong was really lovely.  People still lived and went about their business in this really quaint place -- not just a tourist trap.  That's rare.  Cobbled streets, narrow alleys, old-fashioned shingles, traditional Chinese dancers performing on the street corners, great food.
We stayed in the Feng Shui Museum (actual little hostel in the museum, which was super duper cool).  Only downside was that the bathrooms were not actually inside, but exposed to the elements.  If you had to pee in the middle of the night, you had to exit your room (once you leave your room, you have left the only source of heat in the place) and shiver through the outdoor courtyard, climb down a very narrow, steep staircase (Wade fell once.  It hurt.) then try not to slip on the slick stone floor (drizzled constantly, and like I've mentioned, this is all exposed to the elements).  Finally, if you can find the light switch, you can pee (squatty potties only).  Don't forget that there's no hot water in the sinks (only the showers, and then a very limited amount), so you're washing your hands in freezing water before returning back the way you came.  Note:  this is weather that's damp-cold, now, so you're in at least three layers at all times.
But without a doubt, bathroom difficulties aside (I've just walked you through peeing, but I'll leave showering to your imagination), this is our favorite place to date.  Lots of character and charm, and a really good deal to boot.
Langzhong is basically a shopping/walking place.  We saw lots of cool stuff and had a great time unwinding after the week of studying.  I'll add some pics down at the bottom for your perusal.
Oh, and when we traveled back to Chengdu -- we took a taxi home from the bus station.  :-)

 That's our room -- teeny tiny, which worked since the heater wouldn't have been able to keep a bigger room warm.

In one of the open-air areas of the museum/hostel.

Connor was there too (great restaurant, by the way) but he was playing with some Chinese kids, running around and around a table and laughing his head off.

This is our favorite Sichuan dish -- the potato thing I mentioned last time.  Oh, it was good.  Really good.  Crave it whenever it pops into mind good.

Chengdu

Okay, it's been about twenty years since I've blogged, and there's lots of stuff to tell you.  But, because I hate reading one long endless post myself, I'm breaking this up into segments.  You can thank me later.
The first part of our holiday (sidenote -- SO Chinese!  They use British vocabulary for everything -- you should see their expressions when we tell them where our apartment is, they only know the word "flat" so they're completely lost -- anyway, they never say vacation or break.  It's a holiday.  "Did you have a nice holiday?"  "What a lovely holiday!"  So now, because we hear it so much, we use it, and end up feeling rather like a mix between uppity Brit and giggly schoolkids.  Anyway.) was in Chengdu for language school.  And yes, I realize that my parenthetical note was about a paragraph long and you just had to scroll up and see what in the world sentence I just finished.
Chengdu.  Language school.  One month.  50 hours.  Painful, brain-squeezing, mind-twisting, language-cramming experience.
Loved it.
We shared any apartment with another couple for the month and knew that we'd come out on the other side really loving or really hating them.  We love them.  We wish they lived closer.  We probably know more about Wade and Leah than we'd really like to, such as bathroom habits, odd quirks, and random phobias, but the whole situation went more smoothly than we could have hoped.
Problem with Chengdu -- it's cold.  I know this sounds strange from a "Haerbinren" (Harbin person) but we have HEAT up here.  Our apartments are warm, our classrooms are warm, the shops are warm.  In central China, where Chengdu is, they have teeny little units on the walls in some rooms, not all, of the apartments, and none in school classrooms, restaurants, or shops.  Most of the restaurants are even doorless, so you don't have the relief of being out of the elements.  It's a damp cold too, so you never really feel dry.  And get this -- we knew we were heading down to Vietnam, so we opted to just take our lightweight jackets instead of our heavy coats.
We froze.  We wore many many layers.  Our toes were sad and pitiful.  I still can't believe, out of all the things I could have forgotten to pack, I forgot the socks I'd knitted for us for this very trip.  Sigh.
This is why, we think, that province is known for its spicy food.  Heat.  Seriously, we went out to a few Chinese restaurants when we girls needed a cooking break, and a solid third of each dish was the hot peppers.  Your lips burn like crazy, but it tastes so good.  The best one was a potato dish where they slice up the potatoes super super tiny, smaller than toothpicks, and fry 'em up with peppers (of course) and a little vinegar.  AMAZING.  Worth the trip back down just to eat them again.
So, we love Wade and Leah, we love the food, we hate the weather, the classes were great and we learned a ton.  Best story from Chengdu, though, is the bike-riding.
Okay.  Our first week of classes, we took the bus to school, but it took about 45 minutes and we were super short on time.  So, the second week, we started using the bikes from the apartment we were renting.
All of us almost died at some point.
I'm going to try and set the scene for biking in a big Chinese city.  Take an intersection with about three lanes going in each direction.  Put lights in that intersection that really aren't thought highly of and are seen as more of suggestions than rules.  Add a few traffic cops who stand on little pedestals (seriously) and wave their hands around, trying not to get hit.  Then bring in the taxis.  And buses.  And cars.  And three-wheeled trike wagon things, loaded with boxes, bags, animals, people.  Then bring in motorcycles, scooters, bikes.  Then pedestrians.  Dogs.  Kids.  Now, important to remember here -- no one pays attention to the rules.  You go when you see an opportunity.  Period.  Now, the noise -- horns honking, buses blaring, dogs barking, people yelling, bike bells brrriiinnging, traffic cops blowing on their piercing whistles.  You can't hear yourself think.
Now bike across that intersection without hitting anybody or getting hit yourself.
You see my point.
Once you get across the intersection and are lucky enough to have a bike lane, you may think you're set -- but no, you are not.  Normally, you'd just have bike traffic (which is substantial) plus motorcycles and scooters.  Then, if the sidewalk is crowded, pedestrians jump on over into the bike lane.  (Can't blame 'em much, the bikers do the same to them.)  Then the trike-wagons jump in sometimes, taking up the whole lane.  Cars are prone to avoiding traffic by crossing that little white line, too.
So, you see, the bike lane is not all it's cracked up to be.
Then you've got little streets spilling into the main roads with no warning whatsoever, so you've got to stay on your toes.  Cars backing out of their parking spaces -- on the sidewalk -- into the bike lane.  Other bikers thinking you're too slow and whizzing around you with maybe two inches to spare.
The first day, I was terrified.  I knew this was my death.  No way was I going to survive.
Let me think.  Justin got hit by a motorcycle (not hard, it was backing up).  Leah got hit by a car (just her back wheel, she's fine).   Wade slammed on his brakes to avoid a kid and got hit by me (this was his fault, not mine, and I'm sticking to that).  I hit two cars, a pole, and somebody's foot.
Don't judge me.
But here's the thing -- we all loved it by the time we left.  We were no longer being whizzed by, we were doing the whizzing.  And, there's something super fun about ringing a bike bell.  It brought back lots of great childhood memories, even with freezing rain pelting our faces, and when you add in the adrenaline rush of maybe dying any second, it was super fun.
We've decided that if we ever live in the heart of a city like that, we're buying bikes, despite the risks.  It's quick, it's fun, and once you learn to think like a Chinese driver, it's not so difficult.
Okay, so that's Chengdu.  I'll get the next "holiday happenings" post up soon.