Thursday, 1 September 2011
Well, here it is: the final day of our awfully big adventure.
Thursday 1st September
Today's touristing was to be based around the Hermitage in the absurdly opulent Winter Palace, so we set off with our newfound British companions, Dafydd, Anna and Marco, and Emee the Australian. For those not in the know, the Hermitage is a massive museum spanning several buildings - think kind of like the Smithsonian but not so huge - and one of these buildings is the vast turquoise and gold Winter Palace. Now, the more astute among you may have noticed an irregularity here in that we visited a pay-to-enter tourist attraction. Fear not, dear reader, we have not yet been fully robbed of our senses, for on the first Thursday of the month entry is free. There was much rejoicing.
I won't bore you with a long list of all the exhibits we saw, as there were really a huge number, ranging from Abyssinian artefacts to the work of various 19th/20th century French artists; we happily wandered around until closing time and could have easily stayed longer, particularly when amusing ourselves with such classic games as "Choose Your Favourist Art" while wondering around the vast galleries. The only break from our culturefest was when we suddenly realised mid-afternoon that we had't eaten yet, and nipped around the corner to Stolle, which is almost certainly our favourite Russian pie shop.
Apart from the clouds piddling on us during the walk home, I'm afraid there's not much more to tell of your favourite intrepid adventurers today. We're currently packing up for the last time seeing as we have a hideously early start in the morning, and then we're going out to celebrate what has been a bloody good trip. We'll be updating later tonight with more on that, but that's all for now!
DOD: Tim, for carelessly losing his helium baloon.
Thursday 1st September
Today's touristing was to be based around the Hermitage in the absurdly opulent Winter Palace, so we set off with our newfound British companions, Dafydd, Anna and Marco, and Emee the Australian. For those not in the know, the Hermitage is a massive museum spanning several buildings - think kind of like the Smithsonian but not so huge - and one of these buildings is the vast turquoise and gold Winter Palace. Now, the more astute among you may have noticed an irregularity here in that we visited a pay-to-enter tourist attraction. Fear not, dear reader, we have not yet been fully robbed of our senses, for on the first Thursday of the month entry is free. There was much rejoicing.
I won't bore you with a long list of all the exhibits we saw, as there were really a huge number, ranging from Abyssinian artefacts to the work of various 19th/20th century French artists; we happily wandered around until closing time and could have easily stayed longer, particularly when amusing ourselves with such classic games as "Choose Your Favourist Art" while wondering around the vast galleries. The only break from our culturefest was when we suddenly realised mid-afternoon that we had't eaten yet, and nipped around the corner to Stolle, which is almost certainly our favourite Russian pie shop.
Apart from the clouds piddling on us during the walk home, I'm afraid there's not much more to tell of your favourite intrepid adventurers today. We're currently packing up for the last time seeing as we have a hideously early start in the morning, and then we're going out to celebrate what has been a bloody good trip. We'll be updating later tonight with more on that, but that's all for now!
DOD: Tim, for carelessly losing his helium baloon.
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Yes we're still managing to update every day. It's probably a sign of the added maturity this trip has brought to our characters. Now excuse me if I type this quickly, but my flying pig awaits me so we may fly into the sunset.
Wednesday 31st August 2011
More hardcore touristing today, by which I mean wandering the streets of a foreign city and refusing to pay for entry anywhere. Having said that, St. Petersburg doesn't feel too foreign, partly due to its pleasant European architecture and cobbled streets, partly due to it deciding to make us feel at home on the last day of summer by raining on us*.
Our initial destination was the star-shaped Fortress of Peter and Paul, which we reasoned ought to keep us busy for much of the day. Unfortunately, while entry to the large site itself was free of charge, most of the potentially interesting buildings and museums within were not. As such, we explored in the rain for a bit before deciding to explore the rather unavoidable SS Peter & Paul Cathedral, which had been leering over us with its enormous gold steeple for some time. Predictably, there was an entry fee, but just as we were moving on we were subject to what I can only assume was divine intervention from a benevolent watcher wishing to shelter us from the penetrating precipitation: an otherwise inconspicuous door in the side of the building eased open to eject a trio of tourists into the liquid misery of the great outdoors, presenting an opportunity for us to sneak inside, which we readily did. The inside of the cathedral was more or less what we've come to expect from large Orthodox churches, with vast columns of marble liberally smattered with gold, although this particular cathedral also houses the tombs of several tsars. We all agreed this was the most tsars we'd ever been in a room with, and having suitably admired the architecture, we once more set forth into the elements.
Now, I genuinely have no idea how he does it, but take Simon anywhere historical and you will inevitably end up admiring some artillery. Maybe he has some sort of internal compass. Anyway, as we continued our explorations of the fort, we rounded a corner to come face to face with some anti-aircraft guns. Cue clambering, prodding and general boyish amusement. Skipping forward about half an hour for the purpose of the narrative, we emerged from the fort only for Simon to instantly spot the nearby Artillery Museum. You really couldn't make this up. Still, we decided to postpone lots and lots of guns until we'd had some food and wandered around marginally less interesting or costly tourist attractions, partly due to our collective hunger but also because Simon feared that if we were to allow him to enter, it would be many hours before he emerged. As such, we found a burger bar for lunch before carrying on through the menacingly moist conditions. Along our travels we came across a rather impressive mosque, which as a religious building in Russia was refreshing for its relatively modest use of gold. Trudging onwards through a plethora of puddles, we arrived at the military cruiser Aurora, one of the few remaining vessels from the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5. While we admired the vessel in her docking, I couldn't help but feel smug as passing tourist groups huddled around tour guides, as Simon is far more interesting than any tour guide I've ever encountered, and is best of all free.
Despite my vast literary prowess I am running out of witty synonyms for "we walked for a period of time admiring various aesthetically alluring examples of architecture", but I'm afraid that's exactly what we did for the rest of the afternoon. Following a brief return to the Artillery Museum, we embarked on a leisurely stroll back towards the hostel, and once we'd crossed the river we found ourselves within close proximity of both the Marble and Summer Palaces. Much as I'd like to wax lyrical about these majestic buildings, I'm going to be honest and say it's actually bloody hard to differentiate them from their neighbours, as if there's one thing that the architects of St. Petersburg and their aristocratic employers seemed to enjoy above all things, it's building impressive houses. The sheer number simply means that after a while you stop noticing them.
The final point on our route back to the hostel was a stretch through the Mars Field, which was wonderfully calm after walking alongside congested traffic for about half a mile. In the centre of said field sits an eternal flame, which burns in memory of the victims of the 1917 revolution and resulting civil war, and offered us a moment's reflection before we walked on to the hostel for dinner, relaxation and bed. And also blog-writing.
DOD: Tim, for blindly blundering into a deceptively deep puddle, much to the amusement of the others.
Tomorrow's our final full day abroad! A special post will await you tomorrow evening, loyal readers.
*Please note that I may have exaggerated the effects of said rain throughout this piece for dramatic effect.
Wednesday 31st August 2011
More hardcore touristing today, by which I mean wandering the streets of a foreign city and refusing to pay for entry anywhere. Having said that, St. Petersburg doesn't feel too foreign, partly due to its pleasant European architecture and cobbled streets, partly due to it deciding to make us feel at home on the last day of summer by raining on us*.
Our initial destination was the star-shaped Fortress of Peter and Paul, which we reasoned ought to keep us busy for much of the day. Unfortunately, while entry to the large site itself was free of charge, most of the potentially interesting buildings and museums within were not. As such, we explored in the rain for a bit before deciding to explore the rather unavoidable SS Peter & Paul Cathedral, which had been leering over us with its enormous gold steeple for some time. Predictably, there was an entry fee, but just as we were moving on we were subject to what I can only assume was divine intervention from a benevolent watcher wishing to shelter us from the penetrating precipitation: an otherwise inconspicuous door in the side of the building eased open to eject a trio of tourists into the liquid misery of the great outdoors, presenting an opportunity for us to sneak inside, which we readily did. The inside of the cathedral was more or less what we've come to expect from large Orthodox churches, with vast columns of marble liberally smattered with gold, although this particular cathedral also houses the tombs of several tsars. We all agreed this was the most tsars we'd ever been in a room with, and having suitably admired the architecture, we once more set forth into the elements.
Now, I genuinely have no idea how he does it, but take Simon anywhere historical and you will inevitably end up admiring some artillery. Maybe he has some sort of internal compass. Anyway, as we continued our explorations of the fort, we rounded a corner to come face to face with some anti-aircraft guns. Cue clambering, prodding and general boyish amusement. Skipping forward about half an hour for the purpose of the narrative, we emerged from the fort only for Simon to instantly spot the nearby Artillery Museum. You really couldn't make this up. Still, we decided to postpone lots and lots of guns until we'd had some food and wandered around marginally less interesting or costly tourist attractions, partly due to our collective hunger but also because Simon feared that if we were to allow him to enter, it would be many hours before he emerged. As such, we found a burger bar for lunch before carrying on through the menacingly moist conditions. Along our travels we came across a rather impressive mosque, which as a religious building in Russia was refreshing for its relatively modest use of gold. Trudging onwards through a plethora of puddles, we arrived at the military cruiser Aurora, one of the few remaining vessels from the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5. While we admired the vessel in her docking, I couldn't help but feel smug as passing tourist groups huddled around tour guides, as Simon is far more interesting than any tour guide I've ever encountered, and is best of all free.
Despite my vast literary prowess I am running out of witty synonyms for "we walked for a period of time admiring various aesthetically alluring examples of architecture", but I'm afraid that's exactly what we did for the rest of the afternoon. Following a brief return to the Artillery Museum, we embarked on a leisurely stroll back towards the hostel, and once we'd crossed the river we found ourselves within close proximity of both the Marble and Summer Palaces. Much as I'd like to wax lyrical about these majestic buildings, I'm going to be honest and say it's actually bloody hard to differentiate them from their neighbours, as if there's one thing that the architects of St. Petersburg and their aristocratic employers seemed to enjoy above all things, it's building impressive houses. The sheer number simply means that after a while you stop noticing them.
The final point on our route back to the hostel was a stretch through the Mars Field, which was wonderfully calm after walking alongside congested traffic for about half a mile. In the centre of said field sits an eternal flame, which burns in memory of the victims of the 1917 revolution and resulting civil war, and offered us a moment's reflection before we walked on to the hostel for dinner, relaxation and bed. And also blog-writing.
DOD: Tim, for blindly blundering into a deceptively deep puddle, much to the amusement of the others.
Tomorrow's our final full day abroad! A special post will await you tomorrow evening, loyal readers.
*Please note that I may have exaggerated the effects of said rain throughout this piece for dramatic effect.
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
See? We're actually doing this every day! Huzzah!
Tuesday 30th August 2011
We'd agreed that today would involve touristing, and so as we set off from the hostel, we picked a direction and vaguely followed it. Our first stop along our confused and circuitous route was a statue of Catherine the Great. Lovely. Shortly thereafter, we stumbled across the rather intriguing Kazan Cathedral, which is unusually - for an Orthodox church - built in the neo-classical style. We wandered around admiring the interesting mix of marble and gold for a bit before, as usual, the topic of conversation turned from cultured appreciation to pure silliness, so we left.
Moving on along a rather pretty canal, we found (I say found, it's bloody hard to miss) the wonderfully-named Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood, whose designer had clearly heard about gilding and thought it was a good idea. Admission, however, cost money, so we moved on into the adjacent park in front of the Russian Museum for a while, before continuing to amble through St. Petersburg's pleasant streets. Eventually we found ourselves in Dvortsovaya (Palace) Square and plonked ourselves down to admire the surrounding Winter Palace and impressive General Staff Building (both to be explored more thoroughly in coming days) while Guy's magic Lonely Planet app searched for somewhere nearby for a cheap lunch.
This little piece of electronic trickery did not disappoint as it led us to a small restaurant called Stolle, which is (quite rightly) celebrated for its pie. With our palates predictably pleasured, our aimless amblings continued, taking us through more winding streets to the river, which led us past lots of probably-important buildings to a statue known as the Bronze Horseman. This fine piece of sculpture depicts Peter the Great crushing the snake of treason beneath the sturdy hooves of his metallic steed. So that was nice. Our questionable quest carried us past St. Isaac's Cathedral (we refuse to pay to enter self-important churches) until we eventually settled by a fountain behind the Admiralty and passed the time in what we would consider a most agreeable manner, though I suspect most of you would consider it childish mucking about.
The rest of the day wasn't terribly exciting, I'm afraid. We returned to the hostel, stopping en route to purchase suitable ingredients for dinner, and as I finish writing this in moderate sobriety, Simon, Guy and Ed have, for the second night in a row - polished off a litre of vodka between them.
HOD: Simon, for not allowing any alcohol to go to waste, no matter what measures may be necessary.
Sorry folks, no photos today, partly because we haven't taken many that would be of interest to you, and partly because it's late and we can't be bothered fiddling around with temperamental cables.
Until tomorrow, dear readers, goodnight!
Tuesday 30th August 2011
We'd agreed that today would involve touristing, and so as we set off from the hostel, we picked a direction and vaguely followed it. Our first stop along our confused and circuitous route was a statue of Catherine the Great. Lovely. Shortly thereafter, we stumbled across the rather intriguing Kazan Cathedral, which is unusually - for an Orthodox church - built in the neo-classical style. We wandered around admiring the interesting mix of marble and gold for a bit before, as usual, the topic of conversation turned from cultured appreciation to pure silliness, so we left.
Moving on along a rather pretty canal, we found (I say found, it's bloody hard to miss) the wonderfully-named Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood, whose designer had clearly heard about gilding and thought it was a good idea. Admission, however, cost money, so we moved on into the adjacent park in front of the Russian Museum for a while, before continuing to amble through St. Petersburg's pleasant streets. Eventually we found ourselves in Dvortsovaya (Palace) Square and plonked ourselves down to admire the surrounding Winter Palace and impressive General Staff Building (both to be explored more thoroughly in coming days) while Guy's magic Lonely Planet app searched for somewhere nearby for a cheap lunch.
This little piece of electronic trickery did not disappoint as it led us to a small restaurant called Stolle, which is (quite rightly) celebrated for its pie. With our palates predictably pleasured, our aimless amblings continued, taking us through more winding streets to the river, which led us past lots of probably-important buildings to a statue known as the Bronze Horseman. This fine piece of sculpture depicts Peter the Great crushing the snake of treason beneath the sturdy hooves of his metallic steed. So that was nice. Our questionable quest carried us past St. Isaac's Cathedral (we refuse to pay to enter self-important churches) until we eventually settled by a fountain behind the Admiralty and passed the time in what we would consider a most agreeable manner, though I suspect most of you would consider it childish mucking about.
The rest of the day wasn't terribly exciting, I'm afraid. We returned to the hostel, stopping en route to purchase suitable ingredients for dinner, and as I finish writing this in moderate sobriety, Simon, Guy and Ed have, for the second night in a row - polished off a litre of vodka between them.
HOD: Simon, for not allowing any alcohol to go to waste, no matter what measures may be necessary.
Sorry folks, no photos today, partly because we haven't taken many that would be of interest to you, and partly because it's late and we can't be bothered fiddling around with temperamental cables.
Until tomorrow, dear readers, goodnight!
Monday, 29 August 2011
Right folks, now we've got ourselves up to date with both writing and pictures - don't forget to click back to the "older posts" at the bottom of the page to see photos from Fiji and the first half of New Zealand - we've decided to treat you for our last few days and update every day.
"Yippee!", I hear you cry!
Calm down, it's just a blog...
Also, before I get started, I feel congratulations should be awarded to Guy, Ed and in particular Simon for getting those last couple of huge posts done - which I'm sure you enjoyed heartily - basically giving up a day and a half of their time while I was busy being poorly and feeling sorry for myself, so as you read this I want you all to give them a big "well done!'
Said it?
Right, now we can begin.
Monday 29th August 2011
When last we spoke, we'd just finished writing the previous post and uploading photos at about half past midnight, so I'll count the remaining couple of hours before we got to sleep as part of today. As I suppose they technically are.
We left the comfort and quiet of the Taganka hostel in a mild rush as we wanted to get to Moscow station before the tube stopped running at 1am. As it turned out we made it in plenty of time and this short leg of the journey was fairly uneventful, and we gratefully plonked our bags down for use as seats in the busy waiting room until a platform was announced for our train. I could bore you with details of lengthy perambulations along platforms and confusion over carriage allocations, but I won't. Even if I sort of just did. Getting into our beds proved interesting, as despite them significantly softer than their cousins in China, they were also a fair bit smaller. This was not helped by the gentleman and his son who'd decided to bring a bicycle onto the train. Still, we managed to scramble in and soon were all asleep, despite the champion efforts of an enthusiastic snorer who might even give my own father a run for his money.
The crisp air of morning and its golden glow both failed to wake us, and once we were all sufficiently conscious to move and grunt we assembled for a healthy breakfast at about midday of bread, jam and a rather pleasing cereal/yoghurt mix. Some more time passed in which absolutely nothing of note occurred, and we arrived in St. Petersburg precisely on time, which was a surprising novelty. Our directions informed us that our hostel lay waiting less than 500m (546.81yds for you olden types) away, so having walked a bit further without finding it, we stopped and search parties were duly despatched. Against all expectations and previous experience, this actually proved successful as I stumbled upon a door bearing the legend "SHK", and seeing as the letter S isn't in the Cyrillic alphabet, this was a bit too much of a coincidence for it not to be the Soul Kitchen Hostel. Minutes later we were checking into said establishment, which is proving to be rather nice as everything is free.
The one disadvantage to our locomotive lie-in was that it left little time in the afternoon for touristing, so once we'd checked in and paid we set off with no particular aim other than to get our bearings and get food for dinner. After wandering around a supermarket for quite some time (foreign supermarkets have huge amusement potential that we have become experts at fully exploring during the course of this trip) we found a small but pretty Orthodox cathedral across the road, which gave us our daily dosage of culture before aurally extolling the virtues of campanology as we departed on our way back to the hostel for an evening of food, drink and merriment.
"Yippee!", I hear you cry!
Calm down, it's just a blog...
Also, before I get started, I feel congratulations should be awarded to Guy, Ed and in particular Simon for getting those last couple of huge posts done - which I'm sure you enjoyed heartily - basically giving up a day and a half of their time while I was busy being poorly and feeling sorry for myself, so as you read this I want you all to give them a big "well done!'
Said it?
Right, now we can begin.
Monday 29th August 2011
When last we spoke, we'd just finished writing the previous post and uploading photos at about half past midnight, so I'll count the remaining couple of hours before we got to sleep as part of today. As I suppose they technically are.
We left the comfort and quiet of the Taganka hostel in a mild rush as we wanted to get to Moscow station before the tube stopped running at 1am. As it turned out we made it in plenty of time and this short leg of the journey was fairly uneventful, and we gratefully plonked our bags down for use as seats in the busy waiting room until a platform was announced for our train. I could bore you with details of lengthy perambulations along platforms and confusion over carriage allocations, but I won't. Even if I sort of just did. Getting into our beds proved interesting, as despite them significantly softer than their cousins in China, they were also a fair bit smaller. This was not helped by the gentleman and his son who'd decided to bring a bicycle onto the train. Still, we managed to scramble in and soon were all asleep, despite the champion efforts of an enthusiastic snorer who might even give my own father a run for his money.
The crisp air of morning and its golden glow both failed to wake us, and once we were all sufficiently conscious to move and grunt we assembled for a healthy breakfast at about midday of bread, jam and a rather pleasing cereal/yoghurt mix. Some more time passed in which absolutely nothing of note occurred, and we arrived in St. Petersburg precisely on time, which was a surprising novelty. Our directions informed us that our hostel lay waiting less than 500m (546.81yds for you olden types) away, so having walked a bit further without finding it, we stopped and search parties were duly despatched. Against all expectations and previous experience, this actually proved successful as I stumbled upon a door bearing the legend "SHK", and seeing as the letter S isn't in the Cyrillic alphabet, this was a bit too much of a coincidence for it not to be the Soul Kitchen Hostel. Minutes later we were checking into said establishment, which is proving to be rather nice as everything is free.
The one disadvantage to our locomotive lie-in was that it left little time in the afternoon for touristing, so once we'd checked in and paid we set off with no particular aim other than to get our bearings and get food for dinner. After wandering around a supermarket for quite some time (foreign supermarkets have huge amusement potential that we have become experts at fully exploring during the course of this trip) we found a small but pretty Orthodox cathedral across the road, which gave us our daily dosage of culture before aurally extolling the virtues of campanology as we departed on our way back to the hostel for an evening of food, drink and merriment.
Who says travel is stressful?
Sunday, 28 August 2011
Wednesday 24th August - The Day of Unnecessarily Long Flights
As so many of our days seem to, this one began in an airport. Beijing Airport to be precise, which was humongous and quite spectacular as airports go. The ceiling in the check-in lounge is made up to look like a starry sky, or so we assume as Beijingers must miss the stars sometimes. We did, and we were only there for two weeks.
Eventually we got round to boarding the best flights of the trip - we rate Qatar Airways really highly. Particularly the Qatar Airways check-in girl, who was obviously charmed by us, and gave us the best seats on both flights with plenty of legroom. And they had a menu. On a plane! And of course all the standard mod-cons; TV's in the armrest, free travel toothbrush and eyepatch cover sleepy thing along with socks which Simon has proved to us make excellent gloves.
Doha Airport, in Qatar, was sadly less spectacular although pleasantly air-conditioned. Which was a good thing as when our flight landed at 4:30 AM local time, in darkness, it was already 33 degrees. Needless to say we didn't leave the departure lounge to go explore Doha as some random German guy had told us to. We instead spent the time playing with remote control cars and getting told off for taking photographs. Obviously we are suspicious types. Still, we have become extremely proficient at wasting time and we breezed through our measly seven hours of stopover.
This was followed by 5 more hours on another Qatar Airways plane, which was just as awesome, and eventually landed in Moscow 20 hours after leaving Beijing.
Now some of you may be thinking 'Those flights don't seem unnecessarily long - you got where you wanted to go.' Well, while this is technically true we were more than a little frustrated to notice in Beijing International that there was actually a direct flight to Moscow leaving before even our first flight did. STA are clearly silly, or possibly recieving commission from Qatar Airways. That said, had we got the direct flight it wouldn't have been on Qatar and consequently much less awesome.
Upon arrival we waited no more than 45 minutes for the typically efficient Russian baggage claim process to be completed and navigated smoothly to the hostel, where we promptly went to bed.
Thursday 25th August
The first thing we noticed about Russia was the temperature - it was lovely. Neither too hot nor too cold, not humid or smoggy and exactly what we expect from a proper summer. Take note world - this is how summers should be done.
Having stayed in bed for a pleasantly long time and devoured a delicious bacon-based breakfast we set out to book our final train ticket to St. Petersburg. After ambling vaguely between several different and apparently unrelated ticket offices with the help of several friendly locals we eventually found the correct office hidden in a corner. However the woman staffing it was not someone we would describe as a friendly native guide and the language barrier, for the first time on our trip, proved to be insurmountable. After throwing various bits of paper at her containing varied translations of various things we totally failed to get across what we wanted and she gave us a look that could be understood in any language, so we gave up and booked our tickets online instead. Which, to be honest, we really should have done in the first place.
After this escapade we decided to explore the sights in our immediate area. The Novospassky Monastery is just up the road and is an island of seclusion admist the busy city. Also its very pretty, and like any good Orthodox church, has several domes and a mass-grave under one of the towers. What more could you ask for? Moving on after a brief work-out outside the central cathedral we visited the Ecclesiastical Residence which was, as the name suggests, a house for priests. These days it's a crumbling ruin but the architecture still stands for now and is quite pleasing. Of course, we couldn't have told any of this at first as in the effort to find it we walked about a kilometre past it somehow before turning round in a mysterious and slightly threatening housing estate with an abandoned railway in it. Hotfooting it out the air of mystery and slight peril we about faced and apparently the change of angle was enough to find the place this time.
Sometimes we are still surprised that we manage to miss the only 16th century building within a mile. Other times we remember that it's us.
HOD: Ed for dealing with the train company's incessant nagging over the next few days.
Also, a very happy birthday to Mrs. Hannah Stuart-Davies on this day.
Friday 26th August
Another late start - they have become the norm now - and bacon breakfast - also the norm - began our day of dedicated touristing. We took the underground to the Red Square, Moscow's central plaza and home of such sights as the Kremlin, Lenin's Tomb and St. Basil's Cathedral, literally one of which we saw.
The Moscow underground system is really not the kind of place where one expects to see beautiful architecture, curving archways, stained-glass windows, mosaics, chandeliers and bas-relief sculptures but it is, oddly, where you find such things. The marble and gold decor did not cease to impress. Truly communism is great. Or something like that.
After getting lost only briefly this time, we found the Red Square itself. Strolling through we found all the sights mentioned above, although we could only watch from a distance as the whole area is closed down for a military tattoo taking place next week. Which was a bit annoying, especially as we aren't even here to see said parade. Nevermind; we could at least get into St. Basil's which was resplendant in it's ornate and colourful adornments. Here we had the pleasure of bumping into some Gregorian Chanters who were actually rather good, a fact that took us all by surprise. Shortly after watching their performance however, luckily having had a decent explore of the place, we were brusquely escorted from the premises for reasons unknown - presumably all the bombs we left in the chapels. Who knows?
Safely evacuated from the probable blast zone we crossed the square and resumed touristing in the State History Museum which is a spectacularly ostentatious building for your average museum. Still, it was rather good inside. Or at least, we assume it was good as everything was in Cyrillic so we were reduced to guesswork and shakey translations of Napoleonic-era French manuscripts to tell us what was going on. Naturally Simon and Guy once again pranced off to enjoy the past and emerged a good hour after the others were done.
This done we engaged in that most British of activites - walking blindly into a rainstorm whilst all the locals clung to doorways to avoid what is, in reality, just a bit of water really. Our point swiftly proved, we wandered around what is possibly the most expensive shopping centre known to man, located in a 19th century building, and waited for the rain to ease off. Our favourite shop therein was one that can only be described as an even fancier version of Waitrose, charging twice the price for the privilege of shopping in a building with marble floors.
Saturday 27th August
Saturday dawned a beautiful, sunny day full of promise and wondrement. Slightly burnt but still good home-made banana porridge infused us with positive energy for the day ahead.
Unfortunately, we would quite like not to have to write this blog after we return to England so instead of frolicking in the sunshine we spent literally all day inside writing, slowly tanning under the electric glow of the computer monitor. Simon and Ed spent so long writing that their backs hurt.
Admittedly, we brought this on ourselves and were somewhat distracted by reading the live text from the F1 qualifying and then the England rugby match, but despite this we almost finished anyway.
Progress was halted in the evening by a strong desire to eat steak and get gazeboed, so we proceeded onto the steps of the hostel and did so, Russian style.
Sunday 28th August
Today! This feels like quite an achievement...
Today was a much more satisfying day. We felt the warm kiss of the sun on our bleached skin once again as we ventured out into the urban wilderness, specifically towards the Central Museum Of Armed Forces. This time, we barely got lost at all! The museum proved to be an excellent choice for our final day in Moscow with only Tim, who is slightly poorly (awwwwwwwwwwww), getting bored and finding a bench to sit down on. The rest of us had a cracking time trying to guess what Russian things meant and remember the names of various different firearms and tanks. The open air tank climbing frame proved to be the highlight and Simon in particular got very excited over the whole thing. Ed too seemed to have absorbed much enthusiasm for the subject and is proud to note he understood most of what was said. His keen eye for tanks as possible gym equipment was also pleasing to all: chin-ups on a missile launcher? I think so.
Finishing this we are now sat about in our Moscow hostel, once again kindly letting us stay even though we aren't paying for it, prepared to catch our train at the totally reasonable hour of 2 AM. So for now, dosvedanya comrades.
DOD: Tim, for knocking over a plant pot. Muppet.
Simon and Ed MOT a T-34
Ed and Guy having a cheeky one
Simon in full lecture mode
The blog really took it out of us
As so many of our days seem to, this one began in an airport. Beijing Airport to be precise, which was humongous and quite spectacular as airports go. The ceiling in the check-in lounge is made up to look like a starry sky, or so we assume as Beijingers must miss the stars sometimes. We did, and we were only there for two weeks.
Eventually we got round to boarding the best flights of the trip - we rate Qatar Airways really highly. Particularly the Qatar Airways check-in girl, who was obviously charmed by us, and gave us the best seats on both flights with plenty of legroom. And they had a menu. On a plane! And of course all the standard mod-cons; TV's in the armrest, free travel toothbrush and eyepatch cover sleepy thing along with socks which Simon has proved to us make excellent gloves.
Doha Airport, in Qatar, was sadly less spectacular although pleasantly air-conditioned. Which was a good thing as when our flight landed at 4:30 AM local time, in darkness, it was already 33 degrees. Needless to say we didn't leave the departure lounge to go explore Doha as some random German guy had told us to. We instead spent the time playing with remote control cars and getting told off for taking photographs. Obviously we are suspicious types. Still, we have become extremely proficient at wasting time and we breezed through our measly seven hours of stopover.
This was followed by 5 more hours on another Qatar Airways plane, which was just as awesome, and eventually landed in Moscow 20 hours after leaving Beijing.
Now some of you may be thinking 'Those flights don't seem unnecessarily long - you got where you wanted to go.' Well, while this is technically true we were more than a little frustrated to notice in Beijing International that there was actually a direct flight to Moscow leaving before even our first flight did. STA are clearly silly, or possibly recieving commission from Qatar Airways. That said, had we got the direct flight it wouldn't have been on Qatar and consequently much less awesome.
Upon arrival we waited no more than 45 minutes for the typically efficient Russian baggage claim process to be completed and navigated smoothly to the hostel, where we promptly went to bed.
Thursday 25th August
The first thing we noticed about Russia was the temperature - it was lovely. Neither too hot nor too cold, not humid or smoggy and exactly what we expect from a proper summer. Take note world - this is how summers should be done.
Having stayed in bed for a pleasantly long time and devoured a delicious bacon-based breakfast we set out to book our final train ticket to St. Petersburg. After ambling vaguely between several different and apparently unrelated ticket offices with the help of several friendly locals we eventually found the correct office hidden in a corner. However the woman staffing it was not someone we would describe as a friendly native guide and the language barrier, for the first time on our trip, proved to be insurmountable. After throwing various bits of paper at her containing varied translations of various things we totally failed to get across what we wanted and she gave us a look that could be understood in any language, so we gave up and booked our tickets online instead. Which, to be honest, we really should have done in the first place.
After this escapade we decided to explore the sights in our immediate area. The Novospassky Monastery is just up the road and is an island of seclusion admist the busy city. Also its very pretty, and like any good Orthodox church, has several domes and a mass-grave under one of the towers. What more could you ask for? Moving on after a brief work-out outside the central cathedral we visited the Ecclesiastical Residence which was, as the name suggests, a house for priests. These days it's a crumbling ruin but the architecture still stands for now and is quite pleasing. Of course, we couldn't have told any of this at first as in the effort to find it we walked about a kilometre past it somehow before turning round in a mysterious and slightly threatening housing estate with an abandoned railway in it. Hotfooting it out the air of mystery and slight peril we about faced and apparently the change of angle was enough to find the place this time.
Sometimes we are still surprised that we manage to miss the only 16th century building within a mile. Other times we remember that it's us.
HOD: Ed for dealing with the train company's incessant nagging over the next few days.
Also, a very happy birthday to Mrs. Hannah Stuart-Davies on this day.
Friday 26th August
Another late start - they have become the norm now - and bacon breakfast - also the norm - began our day of dedicated touristing. We took the underground to the Red Square, Moscow's central plaza and home of such sights as the Kremlin, Lenin's Tomb and St. Basil's Cathedral, literally one of which we saw.
The Moscow underground system is really not the kind of place where one expects to see beautiful architecture, curving archways, stained-glass windows, mosaics, chandeliers and bas-relief sculptures but it is, oddly, where you find such things. The marble and gold decor did not cease to impress. Truly communism is great. Or something like that.
After getting lost only briefly this time, we found the Red Square itself. Strolling through we found all the sights mentioned above, although we could only watch from a distance as the whole area is closed down for a military tattoo taking place next week. Which was a bit annoying, especially as we aren't even here to see said parade. Nevermind; we could at least get into St. Basil's which was resplendant in it's ornate and colourful adornments. Here we had the pleasure of bumping into some Gregorian Chanters who were actually rather good, a fact that took us all by surprise. Shortly after watching their performance however, luckily having had a decent explore of the place, we were brusquely escorted from the premises for reasons unknown - presumably all the bombs we left in the chapels. Who knows?
Safely evacuated from the probable blast zone we crossed the square and resumed touristing in the State History Museum which is a spectacularly ostentatious building for your average museum. Still, it was rather good inside. Or at least, we assume it was good as everything was in Cyrillic so we were reduced to guesswork and shakey translations of Napoleonic-era French manuscripts to tell us what was going on. Naturally Simon and Guy once again pranced off to enjoy the past and emerged a good hour after the others were done.
This done we engaged in that most British of activites - walking blindly into a rainstorm whilst all the locals clung to doorways to avoid what is, in reality, just a bit of water really. Our point swiftly proved, we wandered around what is possibly the most expensive shopping centre known to man, located in a 19th century building, and waited for the rain to ease off. Our favourite shop therein was one that can only be described as an even fancier version of Waitrose, charging twice the price for the privilege of shopping in a building with marble floors.
Saturday 27th August
Saturday dawned a beautiful, sunny day full of promise and wondrement. Slightly burnt but still good home-made banana porridge infused us with positive energy for the day ahead.
Unfortunately, we would quite like not to have to write this blog after we return to England so instead of frolicking in the sunshine we spent literally all day inside writing, slowly tanning under the electric glow of the computer monitor. Simon and Ed spent so long writing that their backs hurt.
Admittedly, we brought this on ourselves and were somewhat distracted by reading the live text from the F1 qualifying and then the England rugby match, but despite this we almost finished anyway.
Progress was halted in the evening by a strong desire to eat steak and get gazeboed, so we proceeded onto the steps of the hostel and did so, Russian style.
Sunday 28th August
Today! This feels like quite an achievement...
Today was a much more satisfying day. We felt the warm kiss of the sun on our bleached skin once again as we ventured out into the urban wilderness, specifically towards the Central Museum Of Armed Forces. This time, we barely got lost at all! The museum proved to be an excellent choice for our final day in Moscow with only Tim, who is slightly poorly (awwwwwwwwwwww), getting bored and finding a bench to sit down on. The rest of us had a cracking time trying to guess what Russian things meant and remember the names of various different firearms and tanks. The open air tank climbing frame proved to be the highlight and Simon in particular got very excited over the whole thing. Ed too seemed to have absorbed much enthusiasm for the subject and is proud to note he understood most of what was said. His keen eye for tanks as possible gym equipment was also pleasing to all: chin-ups on a missile launcher? I think so.
Finishing this we are now sat about in our Moscow hostel, once again kindly letting us stay even though we aren't paying for it, prepared to catch our train at the totally reasonable hour of 2 AM. So for now, dosvedanya comrades.
DOD: Tim, for knocking over a plant pot. Muppet.
Simon and Ed MOT a T-34 
Ed and Guy having a cheeky one
Simon in full lecture mode
The blog really took it out of us Saturday, 27 August 2011
Hello again. Apologies for our long absence - we blame the Great Firewall of China and our own stupendous laziness. Further apologies in advance for this post which may have several strange occurences as this computer only has a Cyrillic Russian dictionary (so is calling everything a mistake) and is also trying to change everything I write into Hindi. Don't ask me why.
In other news, we have also updated the pictures. To prevent massive confusion, they have been attached to previous posts where they ought to be. Please do go back and look at them.
Sunday 7th August
After spending much of the day abusing the hospitality of our hostel, we eventually saddled up and drove to Christchurch. And by to I mean towards, because we spent so long writing the previous entry that we could only get half way by nightfall. In our rush to reach somewhere that registered on the map and might possibly have somewhere to stay, Guy's enthusiastic driving style was noticed by a camping policeman who did not hesitate to book him. Which, needless to say, caused a great deal of mirth in the cheapseats and also makes Guy the first of our group to be caught for one of our many crimes.
Eventually we reached the town of Timaru which contained a supermarket and a woman having a shower. So we decided to take in some of the sights and visit the much-talked-about supermarket, where we purchased a meal of nostalgia food (pie and chips). We were then shown to our rooms in a hostel we found by the woman, who was no longer showering and turned out to be the hostel's owner. The hours were whiled away by merciless mocking of Troy, one of the most shockingly innaccurate films ever produced, and by Simon and Ed greatly enjoying being in bed together for the first time since the USA.
DOD: Guy for getting pulled over.
Monday 8th August
Having broken our 1 day journey down into 2 we realised we had quite a lot of time to kill, so wandered over to the Banks Peninsula near Christchurch. On the way we passed over New Zealand's longest bridge, which was unremarkable, especially having crossed the Bay Bridge in San Francisco. We weren't particularly inspired by its flat concrete glory. That said, the peninsula on the other side of said bridge was rather pleasant; its steep hills and sparkling inlets catered for the left-side brain a little better. The peninsula is centered around the small town of Akaroa, which for some reason styles itself as a quaint French village. We went in search of seals and penguins which we were assured could be found somewhere in this area. An hour later, we got in the car and tried to go somewhere else to look for penguins. Shortly after that we realised we were going the wrong way and went back down the absurd hill we had just driven up. Penguins conclusively not found, we hit the library like the party animals we are and researched where to find a hostel.
After a brief game of 'Abandon Guy on a Bench in the Middle of a Small Town in the Middle of Nowhere on the Other Side of the World', or AGBMSTMNOSW as we like to call it, we drove back to Christchurch in high hopes of finding somewhere to stay and going for a wander. Unfortunately, our wandering time was entirely consumed by hostel-hunting courtesy of the extensive damage sustained by Christchurch in the recent earthquakes. We weren't entirely sure what to expect but it turned out to be worse than anyone had guessed - the entire city centre is still fenced off and policed by the military and, more annoyingly, because the Fire Service headquarters had fallen over the entire Brigade was housed in all the dorms we wanted to stay in so they could continue to work within the city. The damaged road network and extensive one-way system, combined with the lack of accommodation, proved the cause of much stress and our driving team were actually delirious with relief by the time we found a relatively affordable motel to stop at. Tension was somewhat relieved by a hearty meal of steak, egg and chips which was extremely delicious and only set off the fire alarm twice before Simon took the battery out. We went to bed preparing to embrace the end of our New Zealand journey.
Tuesday 9th August
Roused by delicious soup from a tin, we embarked on a stamp-based adventure to the Hospital, which apparently sold stamps. Parking issues resulted in Tim and Guy driving round and round the block whilst Simon and Ed ventured into the labyrinthine corridors in search of a post office. That is just how dedicated we are to stay in contact with you, the reader *cough*.
We then moved on to the business of the day, visiting the Botanical Gardens which were thankfully undamaged. Usually when visiting gardens of any kind we end up spending most of our time in the children's playpark - for some reason the ones in Botanical Gardens are really good - and this was no exception. The morning was used pretending to be gnomes and discussing the possible invasion of the world by ducks (a very real threat).
At length, we drove to the airport and dropped the car off. No, this one did not get named. Thankfully we didn't lose the deposit over Tim's demolition of the key so all was well and we proceeded onto the airport proper, where we amused ourselves by pushing one another around in a baggage trolley and creating pens in the queue-line for the check-in desk. We got on that plane to Auckland International, where we got on another plane and headed towards Hong Kong. This was noteworthy because the plane we were on was actually bound for London, via Hong Kong which caused pangs of longing in all of us.
Happy birthday and many happy returns to Mike Smith on this day.
Wednesday 10th August
We landed at about 6 AM onto a tiny strip of reclaimed land jutting out into the South China Sea. After collecting our bags and taking the Airport Express train into Kowloon we bumbled around looking for a way to get to Chungking Mansions, a giant tenement block filled with hostels. Upon eventually getting there we accidentally woke up the hostel's desk man who was asleep on the floor and informed us that we couldn't actually check in for another 4 hours. So, dumping our bags, we headed out to our natural first destination; a playpark. This was stumbled upon having walked down the fairly unimpressive Avenue of the Stars (which is in no way a complete rip-off of L.A.'s Walk of Fame. Nosirree) and over a roadbridge. The only thing that can really be said for the Avenue is it did have some rather nice views over the harbour and a shop dedicated solely to Jackie Chan paraphenalia. Like any good father, Guy fell asleep in the park as his idiot children, here represented by Ed and Simon, ran around screaming.
After a brief but successful rain-dodging manoeuvre in a nearby shopping centre, we thought that with our running around for the day all used up the best thing to do was to look at some arts. When we reached the gallery it was discovered that all museums in Hong Kong are free on Wednesdays which was an extremely serendipitous coincidence and dictated the plan for the rest of our day. The arts here were rather good, if not the goodest (we are told the wizards have all of those).
Having returned to the hostel and moved our bags into our extremely brightly coloured room, we went back out for lunch. Having attempted to find somewhere reccommended in the guidebook we sat down in a totally different place and tried to order some food. This gave us our first taste of true Chinese bustle - we were shoved in a corner, shouted at for our orders and the waiter looked extremely angry that he actually had to do any waiting. Although possibly this was because it appeared that he couldn't move his neck. After we all ordered the wrong thing by accident, we set out and found some more museums. First up was that of History, naturally. It began with a geology section, during which we lost Ed, which was followed by the history of people in Hong Kong section, where Simon and Guy left the group. This left Tim to wander blithely through and ponder what was taking everyone else so long. When Guymon eventually emerged from the annals of time we all headed across the street to the Science museum, also quite good. The highlight would have been the giant, 4-storey marble run but it unfortunately wasn't running. Still, there were many examples of childish pleasure to be found, particularly in the Hall of Mirrors, where Tim's face was the cause of much amusement for all.
After this we visited the free tourist attraction of the Hong Kong Light Show which involves all the big buildings lighting up in sequence with music and shooting some lasers in the air. It was a trifle cliched and not nearly as impressive as the guidebook promised. We ended the day by visiting the amusingly named Gaylord Indian restaurant. I have absolutely no idea why it was called that but I'm fairly sure it's much less funny in Hindi. What it undoubtedly was was delicious. What it undoubtedly wasn't was cheap. Still, it was worth it not only for the general hilarity that going to a restaurant named Gaylord entails, but also because we had failed to have a single curry in Fiji which we were told was the local delicacy there, despite attending a Fijian Cuisine night. So it was nice to finally get some Indian food. And the restaurant was called Gaylord. Hurhurhur....Gaylord.
DOD: Guy for claiming to know where a restaurant was and in fact not really knowing at all.
Thursday 11th August
It would appear that in Hong Kong comfort is frowned upon as a frivolous waste of everybody's time. We deduced this from the cast-iron beds and frequent announcements that we could sleep more comfortably on the floor. Throughout our Chinese trip we discovered this over and over again.
Eventually we got up and began our hostel changeover; due to the vagaries of the booking process we had to spend one night in this first hostel, then had to change to a totally different hostel one floor underneath. This was extremely silly and resulted in us having to hang about until 12 so we could check in. By then we were rather peckish so by the time we had had lunch and wandered over to the ferry across the Hong Kong harbour it was almost 3. On the way we were caught in a thunderstorm during which we all got thoroughly moist. Sadly it did nothing to alleviate the stifling humidity and the temperature continued to be what we like to call 'silly hot'. However, the ferry was exceedingly cheap, costing us a whole 2 Hong Kong dollars each which, for those not in the know, is roughly equivalent to 15 of your finest English pennies.
Reaching Hong Kong Island itself (we were staying in the peninsular town of Kowloon on the mainland to the North) it quickly became clear that the area was not short of wealth. Interestingly, we also noticed upon turning around a massive building over in Kowloon which we had never seen before, despite spending the entire day basically at the foot of it. This is typical of us - the thing towered over the rest of the skyline and yet, not unlike the Willis Tower Incident, we were totally unable to notice it. Anyway. We walked a slightly circuitous route thanks to a printing error on our map but eventually found our way to the Peak Tram, a cable car to the top of Victoria Peak, the highest point on Hong Kong island. When we finally ascended the tram (there was a very large queue) we purchased some icy drinks and walked up even higher to some gardens, passing on the way a dissappointingly closed down playpark. We have become very attached to parks.
After taking in the spectacular view of the islands, ruined only slightly by the dense and cloying perpetual smog, and engaging in some Island Spotting (basically a heated argument whilst looking up and down between a map and a view) we soon began our descent as an ominous raincloud hung overhead as night began to fall. We thought it would be cheaper and more fun to walk down - it's only going down a hill after all - so endeavoured to do so. This turned out to be a catastrophic mistake as we went the wrong way twice and wasted so much time as to totally miss our opportunity of seeing the Light Show again from the other side of the river (in the hope that it might have been slightly better). Still, when we eventually found where we were supposed to be going it was quite a pleasant, if inordinately steep walk. The most notable thing about it was whilst we were sweating buckets in the humidity just walking down the hill there were a large number of people actually running up the hill and looking fine, which even Ed says he would not attempt to do. Thighs of steel no doubt.
At great length we did make it down to near sea level and into a wonderfully air-conditioned restaurant which was refreshingly cheap. All the waiters wore full black tie and trainers - not the best of looks. Another basically-free ferry ride later and we returned to our stone beds to squirm uncomfortably for another night.
Friday 12th August
The train station witnessed the delights of our presence on this day as we ventured bravely forth to buy tickets to Xi'an, our next destination. Our early hopes of getting tickets at short notice were mercilessly dashed as we discovered that for some reason long-distance trains do not run on Sundays in China. The train on the Saturday was all booked up so we had to resort to getting tickets a day later than originally intended, nabbing 4 of the last 6 available beds. On top of this there was the additional issue of our estimates of the necessary time. Based on the train taking a roughly direct route at an average of 100km/h (not that fast) we thought it would take about 14 hours probably. This estimate proved to be out by a good 16 hours or so. So basically, assuming our other Chinese train would be just as innefficient (it was) we realised we actually had a bit less time than we thought we did. But not so in Hong Kong, where all we had was an extra day. Consequently, we paced our tourism with reasonable sloth for the remainder of our time there.
So after the train debacle we got on the ferry once again for a connecting ferry to Lantau island. This was home not only to the airport but more importantly to the Tian Tan Giant Buddha Statue, which is a giant statue of a Buddha. It's actually a bit better than it sounds but it is admittedly hard to describe it as anything other than big.
We originally intended to walk up to the statue from the ferry, but it was really hot and we're lazy so instead we bought drinks and got a bus which was a much more enjoyable experience. It was also the first time we met some American girls, who later proved to have absolutely no impact on our lives. So we got the top and were promised by Lonely Planet that there were 260 steps from the base of the mound to the base of the statue. As it turned out, there were only 250 which was extremely dissappointing. So now in our story we're at the top of the statue, so it's an appropriate time to regale you with random facts about it: it was the largest outdoor bronze statue of a seated Buddha in the world until 2007! It is not on the highest point in Lantau! It is attached to the Po Lin monastery! He is 34 metres tall! He weighs 250 metric tons! After Wikipediaing all this information to throw at you we have discovered that there are apparently meant to be 268 steps, which makes even less sense. Seriously, we seriously researched this at the time and considered all possible other steps that might be included. Clue: there aren't any. It's extremely silly.
So after climbing down all 250 steps we visited the aforementioned monastery, which was very pretty. We reflected that Buddhist monasteries have an amazing ability to exude an aura of calm, even in the busy situation of being photographed and giggled at by milling throngs of tourists. This was where we met the American girls the second time and then got on the same bus on the way down.
When we reached the harbour again, having been our usual charming selves, we were invited to a secluded beach with said womenfolk. But when we found out the next ferry there wasn't for another hour we all thought 'sod it' and went back to Hong Kong instead. Still, not all was lost as they suggested we go out later that evening to get lashed together.
Having consumed a dinner of sandwiches we returned to our hostel to freshen up and change out of our sweat-laden clothes, only to later discover that our erstwhile companions had decided they were too tired to actually do anything. So instead we had a lads night in watching a legal thriller and a terrible Chinese medical drama which was ripped to shreds, then went to bed.
Saturday 13th August - The Day of Suiting
This day began with a really late lie-in and then the purchase of suits, possibly the most awesome thing ever. Which is good because as far as any of us can recall getting our measurements taken twice was the only thing we did all day apart from waiting for the Americans to not call Tim. We had planned to have all of our touristing done by this point so we really had very little to do and as a consequence, did very little apart from discuss how cool our suits were going to look. We watched CSI:NY at some point, which was awful. Truly, truly awful.
HOD: Simon for proficient bartering technique with the tailor.
Sunday 14th August
It is a Sunday tradition in China to eat Dim Sum, which is sort of like Tapas but with Chinese food for lunch/brunch. So we set out to Hong Kong island for the last time to attempt to eat some. Unfortunately, due to a reasonably late start and a massive queue at the restaurant we ended up going back to the same cheap place we'd visited on the second night in order to make the appointment with our tailors. That's right, we have tailors now. Yeah.
Having collected our (totally awesome) suits we boarded a train out to the New Territories, the name given to the outlying regions of the Hong Kong area. We stopped in the area of Sha Tin to see the Ten Thousand Buddhas monastery, which does not have 10,000 Buddhas in it. It in fact has more than that. The other thing it had was lots and lots of steps which were extremely tiring, especially when half way up we noticed that there was, in fact, an escalator to the top. And a cable car. This was a harsh truth as, once one has embarked on the stairs, there is no way to get to the other means of transport. It was really quite galling. Still, we were optimistic about using the escalator back down. Turns out it only goes up, naturally. Because who would use an escalator going down? Anyway it was a very pretty little temple/monastery/cemetary combo thing.
After this we tried to find the Hong Kong Heritage Museum, purportedly one of the best museums in the whole Hong Kong area. I'm sure you've noticed my use of the word tried - we naturally failed to find this massive building as it was far too obvious. So instead we ate pizza and went back to the hostel to sulk, which was just as educational obviously.
To prepare for our impending 30-hour epic of a train journey we went to a nearby supermarket to buy provisions as we suspected we would have no access to food on the train. It turned out that we could have got food but we had no Chinese currency, so couldn't. Employing our usual foresight, we left the supermarket with 2 loaves of bread, jam and butter, 3 tubes of Pringles, some cereal and copious amounts of booze. And we are talking copious here (see the pictures).
We attempted once again to contact those bloody yanks but they were far too busy clearly. Thus ends the tale of how the Americans had no impact on our lives. The day was concluded by going to bed in order to get up at death o'clock the following morning.
Monday 15th August
I, Simon, shall recount to you the following tale in the form of what I remember from this morning: Wake up. Blur of movement. Stumble into bathroom. Water is cold. Put clothes on. Forget suit. Pick up suit. Leave hostel eventually. Cram into tiny lift for ages. Probably fall asleep in lift. Get onto subway. Fall asleep on the subway. Get off the subway. Get onto a different train. Fall asleep on subway (for longer this time). Slightly refreshed - begin to remember things such as where I am and what I'm doing. Find myself in Lo Wu station, then walking, then in some other station. Going through customs from Hong Kong into proper China. Handed massive bag of beer. It's really heavy. Arm muscle death. Eventually reach train station in Shenzhen. Really crowded. Take bags off and on and off and on over and over again for various unnecessary security checks. Get onto train. Collapse on beds. Fall asleep again.
To elaborate slightly, this was our very early morning crossing from Hong Kong to Shenzhen. Even though they are technically both part of China, there is effectively an international border between them due to Hong Kong's historic connection with the West, different currency and different economic model which basically entails a whole lot of hassle and extra passport stamps which we weren't expecting. The horrendous booze bag was nobly carried by Ed for most of the distance and by Simon for about 500 metres. We estimated it weighed about 15 kilos or something ridiculous, especially with all our usual baggage as well.
After this, on the train, there is little to tell. We spent all day on this train, jumping between bunks, napping, reading and chatting. All. Day. The day was punctuated by hunger and slight drunkenness.
Tuesday 16th August
Waking up as the train lurched around a corner, we were cheery as we realised there was a mere 5 hours left of the journey. We were happy that we had killed 25 hours so proficiently.
5 and a half hours later we were questioning whether we would ever actually reach Xi'an as there was absolutely no sign of any urban sprawl yet.
An hour after that, beer bag lightened, we finally arrived. Having eaten all of our provisions and feeling sufficiently malnourished the first order was to find, in quick succession, a bank, a bus, the hostel and some real food with nutrients in it. Crazy, I know. We were shocked to discover that Xi'an was actually more smoggy and polluted than Hong Kong, despite being in the back end of beyond in Chinese terms. That said, it was significantly less humid than Hong Kong and a much more liveable temperature as the weather was grey and uninspiring. Or at least, we assume it was grey above the thick veil of smog.
We eventually made it to the hostel which was very nice after a wild goose chase to where the hostel used to be (in a totally different place, of course) as our guidebook, printed in 2009, was unaware of such a change. Still, we found it at last and after much sitting around, drinking of milkshakes and playing of pool we decided we like the Han Tang Inn and would like to stay. Which was good, because we had already paid for it.
HOD: Guy for successfully finding first the bank and then the hostel (both times).
Wednesday 17th August
Learning from our mistakes (for once), we set out to book our train tickets to Beijing well in advance. Or so we thought, anyway. In the event, all that was available was only 2 beds and 2 hard seats. Also it was, once again, a day later than we would have liked. Tim and Guy selflessly volunteered themselves for the beds and the matter was settled. This done, we went to see the Great Mosque, the largest mosque in China and a unique blend of Chinese and Islamic architecture thanks to Xi'an's history as the final destination of the Silk Road, we first stumbled upon a covered market which proved to be our destination for a couple of hours. We purchased all sorts of extraneous nonsense amidst our wanderings but spent the longest amount of time in a stall that sold swords and things doing silly poses. Needless to say the owner was not particularly impressed, especially when we didn't buy anything. At the back of the market we saw some interesting old looking thing and wandered over to it, wondering if perhaps this was the Mosque itself. It turned out it was actually a Toaist temple which we had no idea about but was rather pretty.
After further stumbling through some back alleys which contained yet more shops selling tourist crap we eventually stumbled upon the thing we were looking for, which was a pleasant surprise given our track record. Unfortunately (and typically) it was being refurbished and all you could see was scaffolding. Consequently, we declined to spend 2 pounds for the privilege of viewing the construction techniques more thoroughly and instead admired the view from outside.
At this point we hatched a cunning plan - if we timed ourselves perfectly we could cross the city and visit the Bell and Drum Towers, two iconic ancient structures in Xi'an which house, unsurprisingly, bells and drums respectively, where said instruments were regularly played by a small orchestra of staff. How hard could it be?
Turns out very. Or maybe we're just useless. Nah, can't be that. Either way, we managed to miss both of the day's final performances so instead we spent the time watching the traffic round the roundabout that surrounds the Bell Tower; despite some very efficient road markings, driving in China is more an art than a science as everyone completely ignores them. We were amazed not to witness a single accident. Presumably the constant blaring of horns keeps everyone on their toes. Regardless of this fail, we still looked round the towers at length and they were very interesting as towers go. Although Guy found the ceilings, built for Medieval Chinese people, a little too low for his tastes. The rest of us just think he's too tall.
After this we crawled back to the hostel, watched a pirate copy of Super 8 (which is... underwhelming is the word I would use) and went to bed.
Thursday 18th August
On the previous day we had booked a tour of the Terracotta Army, probably the biggest tourist draw in Xi'an and honestly the main reason we wanted to go there. So this day, accordingly, we went on it.
An early start was sadly involved, but we braced ourselves and got up anyway. Having boarded the minibus we met our 'interesting' tour guide, JaJa, who liked to call herself Lady JaJa. Her catchphrase was "'Cuse me, hi, hello, unhhhhhh" (which we have all tried and failed to pronounce) and it occured on average about twice per sentence. Still, if you could listen over your own giggling the information in between her amusing accent was sound and we learnt much about clay men and crazy emperors.
We started by visiting the tomb of the Emperor Qin Shi Huang (basically a big hill with rivers of mercury inside it. This guy really liked mercury for some reason - he actually ate it. We don't know why. Basically, mentalist. Incidentally, he died of mercury poisoning. Quelle surprise). All you can do is stand a fair distance away and look at the hill because there is so much merucry that it's actually dangerous to excavate the place. Also our group didn't want to spend the extra money to get a car ride a bit closer to a distant hill.
Then we went over to the Terracotta Army itself which was a lot more impressive. It's divided into 3 excavation pits and our cunning guide took us in the logical order: 2, then 3, then 1. It turns out ths was quite sensible as it goes in ascending order of awesomeness. Pit 2 consists mainly of broken fragments of man as the roof caved in, but did include one bloke who was found totally intact with paint still on him. Which is obviously quite unusual when a roof fell on him, so he's a big deal.
Pit 3 contained more intact people, if fewer people generally, and they were all important. This was the first place we saw some horsemen and they are mighty impressive. We didn't even know you could make clay things that big (Note to Deborah: we're not saying you have to prove anything with your pots, they're plenty big enough).
But, as mentioned above, Pit 1 was the most spectacular - several thousand fully reconstructed warriors in neat rows spanning a room the size of an aircraft hangar (Simon and Guy reckon you could fit 3 B-52s in that hangar, which those who have any idea what they're talking about will know means that it's very large). Each soldier is slightly different, carved to the face of the person who made it apparently. Their handiwork was impressive which is a good thing as the crazy Emperor had them all killed in order to keep his tomb a secret.
After watching an extremely pointless panoramic film and eating dinner at a place that was definitely not giving JaJa any commission we returned to the hostel and spent the night playing pool again (our games improved quite a lot whilst in China).
Friday 19th August
Since our train to Beijing was not for another day, we intended to spend the day walking around the old city walls. Ed had a fine start to the day by roundly beating all the staff of the hostel at pool before the rest of us even got up. It is a shame that he didn't realise that the man he beat three times was none other than the head chef and he could have earnt us all free breakfast, but nevermind - without speaking the language it is admittedly difficult to know.
After our lazy start we set off to the walls - it was only raining slightly so, preparing our English mannerisms, we set out regardless. We proceeded a whole 200 metres along the wall before stopping, which is quite good for us. Additionally, the distraction was a valid one; a bike hire centre. It should be pointed out at this point that we have all been very financially aware and the fact that we had to spend money to effectively spend less time on the wall was strongly considered. But then we realised that it was an opportunity that we simply couldn't pass up as these were not just any bikes - these were tandem bikes. None of us had ever ridden a tandem before but that didn't dent our enthusiasm as we shelled out and cycled merrily away.
It turned out to be an inspired decision and the cause of a great deal of hilarity. There was only one small setback when the chain came off one of our bikes and we had to wait about half an hour for help to arrive - luckily a helpful tour guide in a passing golf buggy was more than happy to help, whilst others were more than happy to point and laugh at the silly Westerners and take pictures of our humiliation. Still, all things considered a very enjoyable day for all involved. This is the best exercise we've had over the whole trip.
Upon returning to the hostel we were ecstatic about the prospect of a free meal - Chinese dumplings no less. We were taught how to make them too. And they were bloody nice, if we do say so ourselves - like everything we turn our hands to, it turned out great. In the process we made friends with a nice honeymooning couple from London and finished the last of the train beer - that's how much there was (and how much Ed and Simon had to carry!).
DOD: Simon, for crashing his bike into the wall (consequently he didn't fancy steering for the rest of the day) and spilling his own alcohol. In a bottle. Off the table.
Saturday 20th August
Another lazy morning playing pool and eating breakfast as late as possible. Have we mentioned how much we like playing pool?
Having bought provisions (slightly more adequate this time) the previous night we left to embark upon our next absurdly long train journey (only 16 hours this time, but still long). Annoyingly, it was late to arrive and they didn't open the gates until the time the train was meant to leave, meaning we spent an hour standing around in a tightly compacted queue surrounded by sweating Chinese people, which was not the most comfortable of experiences. Upon boarding, Ed and Simon bravely soldiered on to carriage number 1, home of the hard seats. They were hard and very upright, although not as hard as the wooden bench they were expecting. They spent the day chatting away and then doing maths and doodling respectively. 4 pages of doodles were created.
Meanwhile, Tim wrote his journal and Guy read a book while both managed to hit their heads, elbows and knees repeatedly on everything. Ironically, they both somehow managed to sleep worse than Ed and Simon did on the seats who were subjected to lights on all night, people moving about kicking Ed (he was on the aisle seat, they weren't just picking on him), a man yelling at every stop and every time he brought the food cart round and 'toilets' that smelt like festering corpses. As you can imagine, they weren't too pleased to hear that the others had totally failed to enjoy their superior situation.
Sunday 21st August
Upon arriving at Beijing, late as usual, but still really early, after very little sleep no-one was in the best of moods. This combined with an inexplicable inability to find one another on the platform did not conceive the best start to the day. However the hostel was gratifyingly easy to find and we all had a shower to get the previous day off our skin and sat about for a few hours. Although this did negate our early start somewhat it was very relaxing.
Eventually we roused ourselves to do some tourism as thanks to our day-late trains we only had 3 days in Beijing instead of the planned 4. Consequently, a day's worth of tourism was squeezed into three short hours resulting in us missing out on going to the Summer Palace (partly due to lack of time and partly thanks to the relatively vast expense of getting on the boat out to it) and going round the zoo at a reasonable pace. The zoo was a contradiction - it was, as zoos always are, amazing to see all these exotic animals but the standards of care in China are appalling. The conditions the animals were kept in were pretty dire to begin with; small pens with little in the way of entertainment mixed with unclean water (or in the case of the elephants, no water at all). Witnessing this and then other tourists hammering on the glass of enclosures or throwing bottles and cigarette butts carelessly behind the fences did little to improve our judgements of the Chinese. They seem to have a general lack of respect, which is surprising to see given China's history as such a rigid society.
Still, we saw a Siberian Tiger which was pretty damn cool and, of course, China's signature dish, Giant Pandas. Even if they seemed more inclined to sit and do nothing or claw at the gate to their enclosure, they are still possibly the most adorable creatures we have ever seen. Especially the two baby ones.
After the zoo closed we went back to the hostel with a craving for Peking Duck. When in Rome...
However we did not reckon on the unpredictable force of Guy being in charge of directing us. Somehow we found ourselves in the Russian Quarter (which we didn't even know existed) and once again didn't find our intended destination. We wandered dejectedly back to the hostel, picking up some comfort doughnuts on the way - they were unsugared, but delicious all the same. We would give Guy DOD for this, but in fairness it was also partially Tim's fault (Simon and Ed had no part in the map-reading process) and as we all know joint awards are not allowed.
Monday 22nd August
Once again a day of touring, this time to the Great Wall. Booked the previous day for an even more outlandish start time than our trip to the Terracotta Army (breakfast was served at half 7!) we headed towards the Mutianyu section of the wall - this is the closest to the capital and was faithfully restored a few years back by the Chinese government. Our guide this time had a superior grasp of English and was, sadly, much less mockable. That said he was very informative and kindly gave our group an extended amount of time to traverse the two and a half kilometres of wall open to the public. This may not sound like a lot, but with all the ridiculous hills involved it really felt like it.
Upon arriving we unfortunately had to pay an extra 65 yuan each for a cable car to the top to ensure that we didn't waste any time on the wall. This was sensible, if annoying.
We walked together for a time but to cover all the ground we eventually had to split up as the prospect of the oncoming gradient was too tiring to consider. Whilst Ed, being Ed and vastly fitter than us, tackled it anyway (aiming to summit a hill), the others turned back in the other direction to see the point where the reconstructed wall meets with the original. Both yielded quite spectacular views. The pictures of the views are pretty - apologies for the pictures of us, which aren't.
As we ran out of time on the wall we reconvened where we had earlier alighted, but this time we were not bound for a boring old cable car. No we were not; we were destined for toboggan-related greatness. Yes, you read correctly - someone in the Chinese government thought it was a good idea to build a freaking slide from the top of the Great Wall down to the bottom. Whoever he is, we totally agree with him and bow to his immense wisdom. Admittedly, the experience would have been better without the heavy traffic of people frankly far too old and boring to be using such a method of transportation. Against the orders of the slide attendants we, at several points, completely stopped on the slide so we could build enough of a gap to have some fun which worked to some extent. The steep hill and a few corners at full speed created some great fun but also resulted in some unwisely heavy braking and Simon crashing into Guy so fast the back of his slide came off the ground to about 45 degrees, immediately followed by Tim hitting him almost as badly. Lots of fun and one bruised back later we finally found our way to our designated lunch restaurant, only half an hour late. Lunch duly eaten we returned to the hostel and chilled out for the evening.
Tuesday 23rd August
Our last day in Beijing began with a lie-in because we are all still so knackered from the day before. Eventually we gathered the strength to get out of bed and get some brunch made for us. Having eaten such we boarded the underground and ventured to the Forbidden City - thankfully, we were not killed for entering even though we are not of the Mandarin class - via Tian'anmen Square which is remarkably unremarkable (and free of tanks, which Simon found disappointing). We spent the next few hours looking at the beautiful architecture and sculpted gardens. Half way through this we managed to lose one another through the thick cloud of people, probably because Ed and Simon were chatting and didn't notice Guy's stalk-like head moving away from them through the crowds with Tim.
Whilst Guy and Tim saw the major attractions they spent a long time waiting for Ed and Simon to turn up whilst the latter, by grace of having absolutely no idea where they were going, managed to see pretty much everything, they think, except the notoriously elusive Hall of Bronzes which was signed down an alleyway. This was fine, until the alley split off at a T-junction with no more signs either way - short of time Ed and Simon decided instead to make their way to the Hall of Clocks where Guy and Tim were waiting (their second choice of place after the lost ones had failed to show at the Gardens anywhere near the time they were wanted - 30 minutes plus...whoops!) which, being one of the major sites in the place, one might think would be more efficiently signed. Half an hour and much doubling back later Tim sent them the directions and they finally arrived. Still, despite Guy and Tim's wait they seemed to enjoy themselves anyway. Ed and Simon contemplated jumping the very lightly guarded ticket barrier into the pay-more-to-see Hall of Clocks but were thwarted by a suspicious guard shooing everyone out of the plaza.
As dusk began to fall the Forbidden City forbade people to be in it for the night and we returned to the hostel once again and abused their hospitality despite technically not staying there at this point.
Thus ends our Chinese adventure. As a whole we thought the country was extremely beautiful and interesting, bounteous enough in history and culture to keep everyone interested. That said, Chinese mob mentality is in some ways worse than in Britain - and they have absolutely no idea how to queue, pushing and shoving for everything - and the smell of urine seemed to be omnipresent (particularly in train stations and oddly on the Great Wall) along with the famous smog, which really is as bad as all that. We spent a fortnight in China and in the whole time did not see a single star, or any blue sky outside of Hong Kong (Guy claims he saw some in Beijing but the rest of us don't believe him).
This seems an appropriate juncture at which to end this particular post। I know at the top I promised pictures, but it's late now and I'm going to bed. So they will come tomorrow, as will the next few days worth of writing. Goodnight faithful followers.
The fuzz
Baldwin St - The worlds steepest residential street 
The Council of Gnomes
Hear-ye Hear-ye
China is crowded
Tim doesn't like crowds 
The group split here - Ed went up what you can see in the left side of the photo
In other news, we have also updated the pictures. To prevent massive confusion, they have been attached to previous posts where they ought to be. Please do go back and look at them.
Sunday 7th August
After spending much of the day abusing the hospitality of our hostel, we eventually saddled up and drove to Christchurch. And by to I mean towards, because we spent so long writing the previous entry that we could only get half way by nightfall. In our rush to reach somewhere that registered on the map and might possibly have somewhere to stay, Guy's enthusiastic driving style was noticed by a camping policeman who did not hesitate to book him. Which, needless to say, caused a great deal of mirth in the cheapseats and also makes Guy the first of our group to be caught for one of our many crimes.
Eventually we reached the town of Timaru which contained a supermarket and a woman having a shower. So we decided to take in some of the sights and visit the much-talked-about supermarket, where we purchased a meal of nostalgia food (pie and chips). We were then shown to our rooms in a hostel we found by the woman, who was no longer showering and turned out to be the hostel's owner. The hours were whiled away by merciless mocking of Troy, one of the most shockingly innaccurate films ever produced, and by Simon and Ed greatly enjoying being in bed together for the first time since the USA.
DOD: Guy for getting pulled over.
Monday 8th August
Having broken our 1 day journey down into 2 we realised we had quite a lot of time to kill, so wandered over to the Banks Peninsula near Christchurch. On the way we passed over New Zealand's longest bridge, which was unremarkable, especially having crossed the Bay Bridge in San Francisco. We weren't particularly inspired by its flat concrete glory. That said, the peninsula on the other side of said bridge was rather pleasant; its steep hills and sparkling inlets catered for the left-side brain a little better. The peninsula is centered around the small town of Akaroa, which for some reason styles itself as a quaint French village. We went in search of seals and penguins which we were assured could be found somewhere in this area. An hour later, we got in the car and tried to go somewhere else to look for penguins. Shortly after that we realised we were going the wrong way and went back down the absurd hill we had just driven up. Penguins conclusively not found, we hit the library like the party animals we are and researched where to find a hostel.
After a brief game of 'Abandon Guy on a Bench in the Middle of a Small Town in the Middle of Nowhere on the Other Side of the World', or AGBMSTMNOSW as we like to call it, we drove back to Christchurch in high hopes of finding somewhere to stay and going for a wander. Unfortunately, our wandering time was entirely consumed by hostel-hunting courtesy of the extensive damage sustained by Christchurch in the recent earthquakes. We weren't entirely sure what to expect but it turned out to be worse than anyone had guessed - the entire city centre is still fenced off and policed by the military and, more annoyingly, because the Fire Service headquarters had fallen over the entire Brigade was housed in all the dorms we wanted to stay in so they could continue to work within the city. The damaged road network and extensive one-way system, combined with the lack of accommodation, proved the cause of much stress and our driving team were actually delirious with relief by the time we found a relatively affordable motel to stop at. Tension was somewhat relieved by a hearty meal of steak, egg and chips which was extremely delicious and only set off the fire alarm twice before Simon took the battery out. We went to bed preparing to embrace the end of our New Zealand journey.
Tuesday 9th August
Roused by delicious soup from a tin, we embarked on a stamp-based adventure to the Hospital, which apparently sold stamps. Parking issues resulted in Tim and Guy driving round and round the block whilst Simon and Ed ventured into the labyrinthine corridors in search of a post office. That is just how dedicated we are to stay in contact with you, the reader *cough*.
We then moved on to the business of the day, visiting the Botanical Gardens which were thankfully undamaged. Usually when visiting gardens of any kind we end up spending most of our time in the children's playpark - for some reason the ones in Botanical Gardens are really good - and this was no exception. The morning was used pretending to be gnomes and discussing the possible invasion of the world by ducks (a very real threat).
At length, we drove to the airport and dropped the car off. No, this one did not get named. Thankfully we didn't lose the deposit over Tim's demolition of the key so all was well and we proceeded onto the airport proper, where we amused ourselves by pushing one another around in a baggage trolley and creating pens in the queue-line for the check-in desk. We got on that plane to Auckland International, where we got on another plane and headed towards Hong Kong. This was noteworthy because the plane we were on was actually bound for London, via Hong Kong which caused pangs of longing in all of us.
Happy birthday and many happy returns to Mike Smith on this day.
Wednesday 10th August
We landed at about 6 AM onto a tiny strip of reclaimed land jutting out into the South China Sea. After collecting our bags and taking the Airport Express train into Kowloon we bumbled around looking for a way to get to Chungking Mansions, a giant tenement block filled with hostels. Upon eventually getting there we accidentally woke up the hostel's desk man who was asleep on the floor and informed us that we couldn't actually check in for another 4 hours. So, dumping our bags, we headed out to our natural first destination; a playpark. This was stumbled upon having walked down the fairly unimpressive Avenue of the Stars (which is in no way a complete rip-off of L.A.'s Walk of Fame. Nosirree) and over a roadbridge. The only thing that can really be said for the Avenue is it did have some rather nice views over the harbour and a shop dedicated solely to Jackie Chan paraphenalia. Like any good father, Guy fell asleep in the park as his idiot children, here represented by Ed and Simon, ran around screaming.
After a brief but successful rain-dodging manoeuvre in a nearby shopping centre, we thought that with our running around for the day all used up the best thing to do was to look at some arts. When we reached the gallery it was discovered that all museums in Hong Kong are free on Wednesdays which was an extremely serendipitous coincidence and dictated the plan for the rest of our day. The arts here were rather good, if not the goodest (we are told the wizards have all of those).
Having returned to the hostel and moved our bags into our extremely brightly coloured room, we went back out for lunch. Having attempted to find somewhere reccommended in the guidebook we sat down in a totally different place and tried to order some food. This gave us our first taste of true Chinese bustle - we were shoved in a corner, shouted at for our orders and the waiter looked extremely angry that he actually had to do any waiting. Although possibly this was because it appeared that he couldn't move his neck. After we all ordered the wrong thing by accident, we set out and found some more museums. First up was that of History, naturally. It began with a geology section, during which we lost Ed, which was followed by the history of people in Hong Kong section, where Simon and Guy left the group. This left Tim to wander blithely through and ponder what was taking everyone else so long. When Guymon eventually emerged from the annals of time we all headed across the street to the Science museum, also quite good. The highlight would have been the giant, 4-storey marble run but it unfortunately wasn't running. Still, there were many examples of childish pleasure to be found, particularly in the Hall of Mirrors, where Tim's face was the cause of much amusement for all.
After this we visited the free tourist attraction of the Hong Kong Light Show which involves all the big buildings lighting up in sequence with music and shooting some lasers in the air. It was a trifle cliched and not nearly as impressive as the guidebook promised. We ended the day by visiting the amusingly named Gaylord Indian restaurant. I have absolutely no idea why it was called that but I'm fairly sure it's much less funny in Hindi. What it undoubtedly was was delicious. What it undoubtedly wasn't was cheap. Still, it was worth it not only for the general hilarity that going to a restaurant named Gaylord entails, but also because we had failed to have a single curry in Fiji which we were told was the local delicacy there, despite attending a Fijian Cuisine night. So it was nice to finally get some Indian food. And the restaurant was called Gaylord. Hurhurhur....Gaylord.
DOD: Guy for claiming to know where a restaurant was and in fact not really knowing at all.
Thursday 11th August
It would appear that in Hong Kong comfort is frowned upon as a frivolous waste of everybody's time. We deduced this from the cast-iron beds and frequent announcements that we could sleep more comfortably on the floor. Throughout our Chinese trip we discovered this over and over again.
Eventually we got up and began our hostel changeover; due to the vagaries of the booking process we had to spend one night in this first hostel, then had to change to a totally different hostel one floor underneath. This was extremely silly and resulted in us having to hang about until 12 so we could check in. By then we were rather peckish so by the time we had had lunch and wandered over to the ferry across the Hong Kong harbour it was almost 3. On the way we were caught in a thunderstorm during which we all got thoroughly moist. Sadly it did nothing to alleviate the stifling humidity and the temperature continued to be what we like to call 'silly hot'. However, the ferry was exceedingly cheap, costing us a whole 2 Hong Kong dollars each which, for those not in the know, is roughly equivalent to 15 of your finest English pennies.
Reaching Hong Kong Island itself (we were staying in the peninsular town of Kowloon on the mainland to the North) it quickly became clear that the area was not short of wealth. Interestingly, we also noticed upon turning around a massive building over in Kowloon which we had never seen before, despite spending the entire day basically at the foot of it. This is typical of us - the thing towered over the rest of the skyline and yet, not unlike the Willis Tower Incident, we were totally unable to notice it. Anyway. We walked a slightly circuitous route thanks to a printing error on our map but eventually found our way to the Peak Tram, a cable car to the top of Victoria Peak, the highest point on Hong Kong island. When we finally ascended the tram (there was a very large queue) we purchased some icy drinks and walked up even higher to some gardens, passing on the way a dissappointingly closed down playpark. We have become very attached to parks.
After taking in the spectacular view of the islands, ruined only slightly by the dense and cloying perpetual smog, and engaging in some Island Spotting (basically a heated argument whilst looking up and down between a map and a view) we soon began our descent as an ominous raincloud hung overhead as night began to fall. We thought it would be cheaper and more fun to walk down - it's only going down a hill after all - so endeavoured to do so. This turned out to be a catastrophic mistake as we went the wrong way twice and wasted so much time as to totally miss our opportunity of seeing the Light Show again from the other side of the river (in the hope that it might have been slightly better). Still, when we eventually found where we were supposed to be going it was quite a pleasant, if inordinately steep walk. The most notable thing about it was whilst we were sweating buckets in the humidity just walking down the hill there were a large number of people actually running up the hill and looking fine, which even Ed says he would not attempt to do. Thighs of steel no doubt.
At great length we did make it down to near sea level and into a wonderfully air-conditioned restaurant which was refreshingly cheap. All the waiters wore full black tie and trainers - not the best of looks. Another basically-free ferry ride later and we returned to our stone beds to squirm uncomfortably for another night.
Friday 12th August
The train station witnessed the delights of our presence on this day as we ventured bravely forth to buy tickets to Xi'an, our next destination. Our early hopes of getting tickets at short notice were mercilessly dashed as we discovered that for some reason long-distance trains do not run on Sundays in China. The train on the Saturday was all booked up so we had to resort to getting tickets a day later than originally intended, nabbing 4 of the last 6 available beds. On top of this there was the additional issue of our estimates of the necessary time. Based on the train taking a roughly direct route at an average of 100km/h (not that fast) we thought it would take about 14 hours probably. This estimate proved to be out by a good 16 hours or so. So basically, assuming our other Chinese train would be just as innefficient (it was) we realised we actually had a bit less time than we thought we did. But not so in Hong Kong, where all we had was an extra day. Consequently, we paced our tourism with reasonable sloth for the remainder of our time there.
So after the train debacle we got on the ferry once again for a connecting ferry to Lantau island. This was home not only to the airport but more importantly to the Tian Tan Giant Buddha Statue, which is a giant statue of a Buddha. It's actually a bit better than it sounds but it is admittedly hard to describe it as anything other than big.
We originally intended to walk up to the statue from the ferry, but it was really hot and we're lazy so instead we bought drinks and got a bus which was a much more enjoyable experience. It was also the first time we met some American girls, who later proved to have absolutely no impact on our lives. So we got the top and were promised by Lonely Planet that there were 260 steps from the base of the mound to the base of the statue. As it turned out, there were only 250 which was extremely dissappointing. So now in our story we're at the top of the statue, so it's an appropriate time to regale you with random facts about it: it was the largest outdoor bronze statue of a seated Buddha in the world until 2007! It is not on the highest point in Lantau! It is attached to the Po Lin monastery! He is 34 metres tall! He weighs 250 metric tons! After Wikipediaing all this information to throw at you we have discovered that there are apparently meant to be 268 steps, which makes even less sense. Seriously, we seriously researched this at the time and considered all possible other steps that might be included. Clue: there aren't any. It's extremely silly.
So after climbing down all 250 steps we visited the aforementioned monastery, which was very pretty. We reflected that Buddhist monasteries have an amazing ability to exude an aura of calm, even in the busy situation of being photographed and giggled at by milling throngs of tourists. This was where we met the American girls the second time and then got on the same bus on the way down.
When we reached the harbour again, having been our usual charming selves, we were invited to a secluded beach with said womenfolk. But when we found out the next ferry there wasn't for another hour we all thought 'sod it' and went back to Hong Kong instead. Still, not all was lost as they suggested we go out later that evening to get lashed together.
Having consumed a dinner of sandwiches we returned to our hostel to freshen up and change out of our sweat-laden clothes, only to later discover that our erstwhile companions had decided they were too tired to actually do anything. So instead we had a lads night in watching a legal thriller and a terrible Chinese medical drama which was ripped to shreds, then went to bed.
Saturday 13th August - The Day of Suiting
This day began with a really late lie-in and then the purchase of suits, possibly the most awesome thing ever. Which is good because as far as any of us can recall getting our measurements taken twice was the only thing we did all day apart from waiting for the Americans to not call Tim. We had planned to have all of our touristing done by this point so we really had very little to do and as a consequence, did very little apart from discuss how cool our suits were going to look. We watched CSI:NY at some point, which was awful. Truly, truly awful.
HOD: Simon for proficient bartering technique with the tailor.
Sunday 14th August
It is a Sunday tradition in China to eat Dim Sum, which is sort of like Tapas but with Chinese food for lunch/brunch. So we set out to Hong Kong island for the last time to attempt to eat some. Unfortunately, due to a reasonably late start and a massive queue at the restaurant we ended up going back to the same cheap place we'd visited on the second night in order to make the appointment with our tailors. That's right, we have tailors now. Yeah.
Having collected our (totally awesome) suits we boarded a train out to the New Territories, the name given to the outlying regions of the Hong Kong area. We stopped in the area of Sha Tin to see the Ten Thousand Buddhas monastery, which does not have 10,000 Buddhas in it. It in fact has more than that. The other thing it had was lots and lots of steps which were extremely tiring, especially when half way up we noticed that there was, in fact, an escalator to the top. And a cable car. This was a harsh truth as, once one has embarked on the stairs, there is no way to get to the other means of transport. It was really quite galling. Still, we were optimistic about using the escalator back down. Turns out it only goes up, naturally. Because who would use an escalator going down? Anyway it was a very pretty little temple/monastery/cemetary combo thing.
After this we tried to find the Hong Kong Heritage Museum, purportedly one of the best museums in the whole Hong Kong area. I'm sure you've noticed my use of the word tried - we naturally failed to find this massive building as it was far too obvious. So instead we ate pizza and went back to the hostel to sulk, which was just as educational obviously.
To prepare for our impending 30-hour epic of a train journey we went to a nearby supermarket to buy provisions as we suspected we would have no access to food on the train. It turned out that we could have got food but we had no Chinese currency, so couldn't. Employing our usual foresight, we left the supermarket with 2 loaves of bread, jam and butter, 3 tubes of Pringles, some cereal and copious amounts of booze. And we are talking copious here (see the pictures).
We attempted once again to contact those bloody yanks but they were far too busy clearly. Thus ends the tale of how the Americans had no impact on our lives. The day was concluded by going to bed in order to get up at death o'clock the following morning.
Monday 15th August
I, Simon, shall recount to you the following tale in the form of what I remember from this morning: Wake up. Blur of movement. Stumble into bathroom. Water is cold. Put clothes on. Forget suit. Pick up suit. Leave hostel eventually. Cram into tiny lift for ages. Probably fall asleep in lift. Get onto subway. Fall asleep on the subway. Get off the subway. Get onto a different train. Fall asleep on subway (for longer this time). Slightly refreshed - begin to remember things such as where I am and what I'm doing. Find myself in Lo Wu station, then walking, then in some other station. Going through customs from Hong Kong into proper China. Handed massive bag of beer. It's really heavy. Arm muscle death. Eventually reach train station in Shenzhen. Really crowded. Take bags off and on and off and on over and over again for various unnecessary security checks. Get onto train. Collapse on beds. Fall asleep again.
To elaborate slightly, this was our very early morning crossing from Hong Kong to Shenzhen. Even though they are technically both part of China, there is effectively an international border between them due to Hong Kong's historic connection with the West, different currency and different economic model which basically entails a whole lot of hassle and extra passport stamps which we weren't expecting. The horrendous booze bag was nobly carried by Ed for most of the distance and by Simon for about 500 metres. We estimated it weighed about 15 kilos or something ridiculous, especially with all our usual baggage as well.
After this, on the train, there is little to tell. We spent all day on this train, jumping between bunks, napping, reading and chatting. All. Day. The day was punctuated by hunger and slight drunkenness.
Tuesday 16th August
Waking up as the train lurched around a corner, we were cheery as we realised there was a mere 5 hours left of the journey. We were happy that we had killed 25 hours so proficiently.
5 and a half hours later we were questioning whether we would ever actually reach Xi'an as there was absolutely no sign of any urban sprawl yet.
An hour after that, beer bag lightened, we finally arrived. Having eaten all of our provisions and feeling sufficiently malnourished the first order was to find, in quick succession, a bank, a bus, the hostel and some real food with nutrients in it. Crazy, I know. We were shocked to discover that Xi'an was actually more smoggy and polluted than Hong Kong, despite being in the back end of beyond in Chinese terms. That said, it was significantly less humid than Hong Kong and a much more liveable temperature as the weather was grey and uninspiring. Or at least, we assume it was grey above the thick veil of smog.
We eventually made it to the hostel which was very nice after a wild goose chase to where the hostel used to be (in a totally different place, of course) as our guidebook, printed in 2009, was unaware of such a change. Still, we found it at last and after much sitting around, drinking of milkshakes and playing of pool we decided we like the Han Tang Inn and would like to stay. Which was good, because we had already paid for it.
HOD: Guy for successfully finding first the bank and then the hostel (both times).
Wednesday 17th August
Learning from our mistakes (for once), we set out to book our train tickets to Beijing well in advance. Or so we thought, anyway. In the event, all that was available was only 2 beds and 2 hard seats. Also it was, once again, a day later than we would have liked. Tim and Guy selflessly volunteered themselves for the beds and the matter was settled. This done, we went to see the Great Mosque, the largest mosque in China and a unique blend of Chinese and Islamic architecture thanks to Xi'an's history as the final destination of the Silk Road, we first stumbled upon a covered market which proved to be our destination for a couple of hours. We purchased all sorts of extraneous nonsense amidst our wanderings but spent the longest amount of time in a stall that sold swords and things doing silly poses. Needless to say the owner was not particularly impressed, especially when we didn't buy anything. At the back of the market we saw some interesting old looking thing and wandered over to it, wondering if perhaps this was the Mosque itself. It turned out it was actually a Toaist temple which we had no idea about but was rather pretty.
After further stumbling through some back alleys which contained yet more shops selling tourist crap we eventually stumbled upon the thing we were looking for, which was a pleasant surprise given our track record. Unfortunately (and typically) it was being refurbished and all you could see was scaffolding. Consequently, we declined to spend 2 pounds for the privilege of viewing the construction techniques more thoroughly and instead admired the view from outside.
At this point we hatched a cunning plan - if we timed ourselves perfectly we could cross the city and visit the Bell and Drum Towers, two iconic ancient structures in Xi'an which house, unsurprisingly, bells and drums respectively, where said instruments were regularly played by a small orchestra of staff. How hard could it be?
Turns out very. Or maybe we're just useless. Nah, can't be that. Either way, we managed to miss both of the day's final performances so instead we spent the time watching the traffic round the roundabout that surrounds the Bell Tower; despite some very efficient road markings, driving in China is more an art than a science as everyone completely ignores them. We were amazed not to witness a single accident. Presumably the constant blaring of horns keeps everyone on their toes. Regardless of this fail, we still looked round the towers at length and they were very interesting as towers go. Although Guy found the ceilings, built for Medieval Chinese people, a little too low for his tastes. The rest of us just think he's too tall.
After this we crawled back to the hostel, watched a pirate copy of Super 8 (which is... underwhelming is the word I would use) and went to bed.
Thursday 18th August
On the previous day we had booked a tour of the Terracotta Army, probably the biggest tourist draw in Xi'an and honestly the main reason we wanted to go there. So this day, accordingly, we went on it.
An early start was sadly involved, but we braced ourselves and got up anyway. Having boarded the minibus we met our 'interesting' tour guide, JaJa, who liked to call herself Lady JaJa. Her catchphrase was "'Cuse me, hi, hello, unhhhhhh" (which we have all tried and failed to pronounce) and it occured on average about twice per sentence. Still, if you could listen over your own giggling the information in between her amusing accent was sound and we learnt much about clay men and crazy emperors.
We started by visiting the tomb of the Emperor Qin Shi Huang (basically a big hill with rivers of mercury inside it. This guy really liked mercury for some reason - he actually ate it. We don't know why. Basically, mentalist. Incidentally, he died of mercury poisoning. Quelle surprise). All you can do is stand a fair distance away and look at the hill because there is so much merucry that it's actually dangerous to excavate the place. Also our group didn't want to spend the extra money to get a car ride a bit closer to a distant hill.
Then we went over to the Terracotta Army itself which was a lot more impressive. It's divided into 3 excavation pits and our cunning guide took us in the logical order: 2, then 3, then 1. It turns out ths was quite sensible as it goes in ascending order of awesomeness. Pit 2 consists mainly of broken fragments of man as the roof caved in, but did include one bloke who was found totally intact with paint still on him. Which is obviously quite unusual when a roof fell on him, so he's a big deal.
Pit 3 contained more intact people, if fewer people generally, and they were all important. This was the first place we saw some horsemen and they are mighty impressive. We didn't even know you could make clay things that big (Note to Deborah: we're not saying you have to prove anything with your pots, they're plenty big enough).
But, as mentioned above, Pit 1 was the most spectacular - several thousand fully reconstructed warriors in neat rows spanning a room the size of an aircraft hangar (Simon and Guy reckon you could fit 3 B-52s in that hangar, which those who have any idea what they're talking about will know means that it's very large). Each soldier is slightly different, carved to the face of the person who made it apparently. Their handiwork was impressive which is a good thing as the crazy Emperor had them all killed in order to keep his tomb a secret.
After watching an extremely pointless panoramic film and eating dinner at a place that was definitely not giving JaJa any commission we returned to the hostel and spent the night playing pool again (our games improved quite a lot whilst in China).
Friday 19th August
Since our train to Beijing was not for another day, we intended to spend the day walking around the old city walls. Ed had a fine start to the day by roundly beating all the staff of the hostel at pool before the rest of us even got up. It is a shame that he didn't realise that the man he beat three times was none other than the head chef and he could have earnt us all free breakfast, but nevermind - without speaking the language it is admittedly difficult to know.
After our lazy start we set off to the walls - it was only raining slightly so, preparing our English mannerisms, we set out regardless. We proceeded a whole 200 metres along the wall before stopping, which is quite good for us. Additionally, the distraction was a valid one; a bike hire centre. It should be pointed out at this point that we have all been very financially aware and the fact that we had to spend money to effectively spend less time on the wall was strongly considered. But then we realised that it was an opportunity that we simply couldn't pass up as these were not just any bikes - these were tandem bikes. None of us had ever ridden a tandem before but that didn't dent our enthusiasm as we shelled out and cycled merrily away.
It turned out to be an inspired decision and the cause of a great deal of hilarity. There was only one small setback when the chain came off one of our bikes and we had to wait about half an hour for help to arrive - luckily a helpful tour guide in a passing golf buggy was more than happy to help, whilst others were more than happy to point and laugh at the silly Westerners and take pictures of our humiliation. Still, all things considered a very enjoyable day for all involved. This is the best exercise we've had over the whole trip.
Upon returning to the hostel we were ecstatic about the prospect of a free meal - Chinese dumplings no less. We were taught how to make them too. And they were bloody nice, if we do say so ourselves - like everything we turn our hands to, it turned out great. In the process we made friends with a nice honeymooning couple from London and finished the last of the train beer - that's how much there was (and how much Ed and Simon had to carry!).
DOD: Simon, for crashing his bike into the wall (consequently he didn't fancy steering for the rest of the day) and spilling his own alcohol. In a bottle. Off the table.
Saturday 20th August
Another lazy morning playing pool and eating breakfast as late as possible. Have we mentioned how much we like playing pool?
Having bought provisions (slightly more adequate this time) the previous night we left to embark upon our next absurdly long train journey (only 16 hours this time, but still long). Annoyingly, it was late to arrive and they didn't open the gates until the time the train was meant to leave, meaning we spent an hour standing around in a tightly compacted queue surrounded by sweating Chinese people, which was not the most comfortable of experiences. Upon boarding, Ed and Simon bravely soldiered on to carriage number 1, home of the hard seats. They were hard and very upright, although not as hard as the wooden bench they were expecting. They spent the day chatting away and then doing maths and doodling respectively. 4 pages of doodles were created.
Meanwhile, Tim wrote his journal and Guy read a book while both managed to hit their heads, elbows and knees repeatedly on everything. Ironically, they both somehow managed to sleep worse than Ed and Simon did on the seats who were subjected to lights on all night, people moving about kicking Ed (he was on the aisle seat, they weren't just picking on him), a man yelling at every stop and every time he brought the food cart round and 'toilets' that smelt like festering corpses. As you can imagine, they weren't too pleased to hear that the others had totally failed to enjoy their superior situation.
Sunday 21st August
Upon arriving at Beijing, late as usual, but still really early, after very little sleep no-one was in the best of moods. This combined with an inexplicable inability to find one another on the platform did not conceive the best start to the day. However the hostel was gratifyingly easy to find and we all had a shower to get the previous day off our skin and sat about for a few hours. Although this did negate our early start somewhat it was very relaxing.
Eventually we roused ourselves to do some tourism as thanks to our day-late trains we only had 3 days in Beijing instead of the planned 4. Consequently, a day's worth of tourism was squeezed into three short hours resulting in us missing out on going to the Summer Palace (partly due to lack of time and partly thanks to the relatively vast expense of getting on the boat out to it) and going round the zoo at a reasonable pace. The zoo was a contradiction - it was, as zoos always are, amazing to see all these exotic animals but the standards of care in China are appalling. The conditions the animals were kept in were pretty dire to begin with; small pens with little in the way of entertainment mixed with unclean water (or in the case of the elephants, no water at all). Witnessing this and then other tourists hammering on the glass of enclosures or throwing bottles and cigarette butts carelessly behind the fences did little to improve our judgements of the Chinese. They seem to have a general lack of respect, which is surprising to see given China's history as such a rigid society.
Still, we saw a Siberian Tiger which was pretty damn cool and, of course, China's signature dish, Giant Pandas. Even if they seemed more inclined to sit and do nothing or claw at the gate to their enclosure, they are still possibly the most adorable creatures we have ever seen. Especially the two baby ones.
After the zoo closed we went back to the hostel with a craving for Peking Duck. When in Rome...
However we did not reckon on the unpredictable force of Guy being in charge of directing us. Somehow we found ourselves in the Russian Quarter (which we didn't even know existed) and once again didn't find our intended destination. We wandered dejectedly back to the hostel, picking up some comfort doughnuts on the way - they were unsugared, but delicious all the same. We would give Guy DOD for this, but in fairness it was also partially Tim's fault (Simon and Ed had no part in the map-reading process) and as we all know joint awards are not allowed.
Monday 22nd August
Once again a day of touring, this time to the Great Wall. Booked the previous day for an even more outlandish start time than our trip to the Terracotta Army (breakfast was served at half 7!) we headed towards the Mutianyu section of the wall - this is the closest to the capital and was faithfully restored a few years back by the Chinese government. Our guide this time had a superior grasp of English and was, sadly, much less mockable. That said he was very informative and kindly gave our group an extended amount of time to traverse the two and a half kilometres of wall open to the public. This may not sound like a lot, but with all the ridiculous hills involved it really felt like it.
Upon arriving we unfortunately had to pay an extra 65 yuan each for a cable car to the top to ensure that we didn't waste any time on the wall. This was sensible, if annoying.
We walked together for a time but to cover all the ground we eventually had to split up as the prospect of the oncoming gradient was too tiring to consider. Whilst Ed, being Ed and vastly fitter than us, tackled it anyway (aiming to summit a hill), the others turned back in the other direction to see the point where the reconstructed wall meets with the original. Both yielded quite spectacular views. The pictures of the views are pretty - apologies for the pictures of us, which aren't.
As we ran out of time on the wall we reconvened where we had earlier alighted, but this time we were not bound for a boring old cable car. No we were not; we were destined for toboggan-related greatness. Yes, you read correctly - someone in the Chinese government thought it was a good idea to build a freaking slide from the top of the Great Wall down to the bottom. Whoever he is, we totally agree with him and bow to his immense wisdom. Admittedly, the experience would have been better without the heavy traffic of people frankly far too old and boring to be using such a method of transportation. Against the orders of the slide attendants we, at several points, completely stopped on the slide so we could build enough of a gap to have some fun which worked to some extent. The steep hill and a few corners at full speed created some great fun but also resulted in some unwisely heavy braking and Simon crashing into Guy so fast the back of his slide came off the ground to about 45 degrees, immediately followed by Tim hitting him almost as badly. Lots of fun and one bruised back later we finally found our way to our designated lunch restaurant, only half an hour late. Lunch duly eaten we returned to the hostel and chilled out for the evening.
Tuesday 23rd August
Our last day in Beijing began with a lie-in because we are all still so knackered from the day before. Eventually we gathered the strength to get out of bed and get some brunch made for us. Having eaten such we boarded the underground and ventured to the Forbidden City - thankfully, we were not killed for entering even though we are not of the Mandarin class - via Tian'anmen Square which is remarkably unremarkable (and free of tanks, which Simon found disappointing). We spent the next few hours looking at the beautiful architecture and sculpted gardens. Half way through this we managed to lose one another through the thick cloud of people, probably because Ed and Simon were chatting and didn't notice Guy's stalk-like head moving away from them through the crowds with Tim.
Whilst Guy and Tim saw the major attractions they spent a long time waiting for Ed and Simon to turn up whilst the latter, by grace of having absolutely no idea where they were going, managed to see pretty much everything, they think, except the notoriously elusive Hall of Bronzes which was signed down an alleyway. This was fine, until the alley split off at a T-junction with no more signs either way - short of time Ed and Simon decided instead to make their way to the Hall of Clocks where Guy and Tim were waiting (their second choice of place after the lost ones had failed to show at the Gardens anywhere near the time they were wanted - 30 minutes plus...whoops!) which, being one of the major sites in the place, one might think would be more efficiently signed. Half an hour and much doubling back later Tim sent them the directions and they finally arrived. Still, despite Guy and Tim's wait they seemed to enjoy themselves anyway. Ed and Simon contemplated jumping the very lightly guarded ticket barrier into the pay-more-to-see Hall of Clocks but were thwarted by a suspicious guard shooing everyone out of the plaza.
As dusk began to fall the Forbidden City forbade people to be in it for the night and we returned to the hostel once again and abused their hospitality despite technically not staying there at this point.
Thus ends our Chinese adventure. As a whole we thought the country was extremely beautiful and interesting, bounteous enough in history and culture to keep everyone interested. That said, Chinese mob mentality is in some ways worse than in Britain - and they have absolutely no idea how to queue, pushing and shoving for everything - and the smell of urine seemed to be omnipresent (particularly in train stations and oddly on the Great Wall) along with the famous smog, which really is as bad as all that. We spent a fortnight in China and in the whole time did not see a single star, or any blue sky outside of Hong Kong (Guy claims he saw some in Beijing but the rest of us don't believe him).
This seems an appropriate juncture at which to end this particular post। I know at the top I promised pictures, but it's late now and I'm going to bed. So they will come tomorrow, as will the next few days worth of writing. Goodnight faithful followers.
The fuzz
Baldwin St - The worlds steepest residential street 
The Council of Gnomes
Hear-ye Hear-ye
China is crowded
Tim doesn't like crowds 
The group split here - Ed went up what you can see in the left side of the photo 
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)