Cupping Pandas...

Still in Xi'an with my American friend and Chinese Historian, Jesse, we decided it was time to hit the party scene, or as close as we could get whilst still in China.

Xi'an isn't exactly known for it's hard-core partying, but I did remember from my previous visit that I stayed in a dorm room which had the hardest of party-goers. These hard-core few had been teaching English to Chinese children for the last four months in some of the most rural parts of China. Bored to death of cold showers and desolate drinking venues, they converged on Xi'an for a two week drinking bender. Whilst I stayed in their room, I witnessed their nocturnal lifestyle which included getting in no earlier than 6am. They would know where to go – one step better, they would take us there too!!

Jessie and I then prepared out livers for some hardcore damage and set off into the night with our intrepid guides, rather unsure what the Chinese clubbing experience would hold for us....

On arriving at our first venue, we noticed that the music was rather strange. I believe it was playing a dance remix of “Allright” by the early 1990's pop band East 17. This was not to be a normal night.



Being foreigners, we were quickly thrust onto the dance stage and had been drinking some Bijo (the really nasty, but rather strong rice wine) in preparation. Here, glow-sticks in hands, we danced like frantic loonies. Performing such classics as big fish, little fish, fish in a box, and the Maccarana. I certainly threw in some really dodgy MC Hammer at one point as well. All of this went down far too well, with the crowd of Chinese people (we were the only westerners) lapping it up and even imitating at times.

Then, from the other side of the dance-floor I noticed that Jesse had been pounced on by a very drunk, very 'prosperous' (fat) Chinese man. Who was thrusting him from side to side and trying to take off his shirt – I warned you it was a strange club. Rather worried that in his impaired state he may get into trouble (actually, just really intrigued if I'm honest!) I went over to see what was going on. At this time the Chinese man grabbed me as well and did a sideways rock and roll dance, but far faster and far stronger than the beat. Then he tried to take my shirt off me, which I resisted, resulting in three missing buttons and one ripped shirt. The rest of the evening I would have to spend in a partial state of undress!

After a couple of hours of really bad dancing, it was time to leave and visit the second of the two only half decent clubs in Xi'an (a city of about 9 million people).

On arrival, we were informed that everyone was just about to finish work and we weren't going to be let in – just as other Chinese people were being let in. One [American] member of our party who shall remain nameless, then decided to say in fluent Chinese to the big and rather cheesed off looking bouncer that his mother was also coming off work around now; implying she worked as a prostitute. This went down about as well as you would imagine, with the guy chasing him into the club and hasty apologies being made.

Somehow though, we managed to get into the club and then proceeded towards the second dance-floor, where the DJ's were making heart shapes with their fingers towards the ladies in our group. Here, one [American] member of our group took his drink onto the dance-floor and was told that this was not allowed to do so by one of the five or so police men who are always present in clubs wearing white helmets. After walking back onto the dance-floor a very amusing Benny Hill style chase ensued, with yet more apologies.

When I tried to take a photo of the club, I was told off and decided that it probably wasn't worth causing a third event in the same club!

Overall, it had certainly been an amusing evening, and I was glad that I had had the opportunity to see the inside of some rather strange Chinese clubs. I think our American friend probably shouldn't drink so much Bijo next time though.

Now it was time to be off to Chendu, the home of the Pandas and only a few miles away from the rather recent epicentre of the devastating Chinese earthquake. After priding ourselves with trying all nine of the local speciality foods, including extruded noodles, a strange kebab like thing, poached bread and many other items including organs of various animals, I took with me two Chinese kebabs in bread for the journey.



Unlike before, I didn't really meet anyone of any interest, with many people going to bed at lights out of 9pm, and not really waking up until the departure at 12 midday the next day.

From here I decided to check into a budget hotel, “treating” myself to a single room with decent internet access in an attempt to organise the next month of my holiday. All for 15 pounds a night.

Chendu, located in the heart of the Szechuan province of China, is known for two things. One, it is very laid back. Two, it's got REALLY hot food. I was intending on making use of both of these.

With much planning to do, and the blog entries from Xi'an to write as well as photos to upload, I took my time exploring the town, idiosyncrasies and all. Although like all Chinese towns it was huge, with a population of about 8 million, there were still highlights which weren't to be missed.



Just outside my hotel were locals who were playing all manner of different games. Some included card games I recognised such as “Big two” and a variation on hearts, whilst others played games I'm less familiar with, including Chinese Chess, Marjong and a very strange card game using long, flat cards. Here I would while away the hours, completing my various tasks whilst sipping on a multitude of Chinese green teas.



With the planning out of the way, it was time to move on to some of the highlights of this region. First on the list were the Pandas.

Now, I've been warned about Pandas. The specific warning I was given was that they are “very similar to Koala bears”, who spend their whole life doing sweet expletive all except for eating and sleeping. But let's be honest, they are kinda cute.



The best times to see them “in action”, or at least as much action as a dead tortoise, was in the mornings. This meant an early rise of 6am and a good 90 minute journey to get there. On arrival we were greeted with what we all feared. Lazy, sleeping Pandas. Luckily the morning cattle-prod in the shape of a heap of fresh bamboo was just being delivered. As if by magic, the Pandas sprang into action, reaching top speeds of 2mph and coving literally metres from where they slept to where the food was. Upon reaching their targets, they promptly were too exhausted by the morning's exertion and decided that eating laying down was probably a good idea.



There's a reason creatures become endangered, and despite claims of destroying habitat and hunting for firs, I'm beginning to think that Pandas were just “lazied” to death. The attached museum even admitted that reproduction attempts often ended in failure, so artificial insemination was often used. I'm suspecting that the creatures probably fell asleep whilst on the job!

I must admit though, the smaller ones were even cuter. Probably because of their diet of milk rather than the very fibrous bamboo, they were also far more active. I'm glad that I've seen them, but if they weren't cute and fluffy, then they would be extinct a few times over by now.



Checking out of my hotel and into a local hostel, I met up with some people from my last hostel in Xi'an. Spending the day together, we explored the town and I decided on taking a quick dip into one of the more surreal museums of Chendu.



The Museum in question held almost more Chairman Mao memorabilia than anywhere else in China – however, it was in the lounge of it's collector. The collector, who was in his late 80's, was pretty much a Mao kleptomaniac, with the intention of showing the collection to anyone who would view it. As you would expect of any self respecting kleptomaniac, he had hoarded a lot of stuff. Some of it was good, much of it was tat; all was focused on Mao.



With my knowledge of Chinese failing me, we decided to move on for a night's relaxation in a local Chinese “Tex Mex”. Falling off the wagon never felt so good as I gobbled a huge taco, washing it down with a fresh margarita.

Earlier I mentioned how this region of China is well known for it's spicy food. Well, out of that spicy food, the best known is the “hotpot”. This involves a big central pot of bubbling liquid which is simmering over a hot burner, to which you add various extras including raw meat and other assorted veg. Unfortunately, the word “hot” in the name does not only refer to the temperature of the pot. It mostly refers to the fact that the liquid is about 50% chilli or chilli oil and 50% special peppercorn, which are known to make your mouth numb as you ingest them.



It was undoubtedly the hottest thing I've tried in my travels. For someone who has been to India – that's quite a thing to say! My friends thought so too...



The following day, it was time for another rather strange experience - “Cupping”. Okay, I know what you're thinking, and it isn't that. Get your minds out of the gutter right now.

Whilst you are erasing that image from your brains, I shall help you implant a new one. Imagine if you will, what a westerner cross bread with a pepperoni pizza looks like. Imagine no longer.



This is the after-effect of a cupping session, whereby they place small gold-fish bowls on your back, lighting the air inside to create a strong vacuum. Whilst not really unpleasant, it's hardly the highlight of my life, and the lingering marks which are said to last for weeks are getting quite a few questions – either way, it only cost 80p so was worth the experience!



As this entry is lingering more than most, I'm going to save Tiger Leaping Gorge for next time, but don't worry – stories will be abound, along with some stunning scenery and some silly photos.

I'll leave you with the best piece of Chinglish I've seen in a while, taken from a town where I was trying to extend my Chinese Visa.

Enjoy!

Xi'an and Beyond

With my recent spending spree in Shanghai, came a need to cut costs. So I decided to go ultra-budget and go back to my backpacking routes, electing for a 2 pound a night dorm room when I arrived in Xi'an, one of the old capital cities in China.



Despite the low price, the hostel was fantastic. Even better, it always provides an excellent way to meet new people when you are in a city with no-one you know.

I met by chance a person who was also speaking to the front-desk. After striking up a conversation, I discovered that he was fluent in Chinese and had a passion for Chinese History. Even better – he was planning a hike over a mountain pass which had only been undertaken by a single westerner since 1930. Sign me up!

Whilst preparations were made for our trip, I went off to see the Terracotta warriors. An hour's bumpy bus ride later, I walked wearily over to the three huge hangers housing the warriors. Once there, I was greeted by a whole army of warriors, some of whom were still buried, until a time when our technology allows us to salvage the colour which promptly oxidises within the first week, leading to the discoloured warriors we all know.



As a symbol of China, I find the warriors rather fitting. Individually, they are not that impressive. Whilst they are fairly well made, it's hardly going to win any prizes for best clay model ever. What is impressive is the sheer scale of the army. With somewhere close to 1600 warriors (okay, I'll admit that I wasn't listening to my guide as hard as I could, but instead taking in the view) the scale is hard to capture. I think this is rather fitting for a country like China, who are well renowned across the world for their ability to copy, rather than innovate. Parallels could be made here, but I shall leave any deep and meaningful stuff for later.



On the return walk, there was the usual affair of forced shopping trips, but my Mandarin is now good enough and I have enough stock phrases to quickly dismiss any unwanted sellers. I also saw the largest building to content ratio ever - I am honestly no joking when I say that what was shown in this building could easily fit into three "normal" sized rooms. Quite astounding!



Upon returning to the hostel, it was time to hit the streets of Xi'an before my imminent departure to the mountain pass. With one of the people from the dorm, we ventured off into the streets with the challenge of finding a full meal and a beer for under a pound. It's an exciting game, one which hones your ability to find a good bargain. With the evening drawing to a close, we took in some of the local sights before retiring to the bar for a few beers, a game of free pool and a game of “dodge the Bijo” (Bijo is a local spirit of about 50% alcohol, which tastes like petrol mixed with nail varnish remover, and costs about 70p a bottle. It's vile, but serves a good role to get one drunk.)



After a late start the next day, my new American friend and I were off to “Treasure Chicken”, a local city of a few million, about 5 hours bus journey away from Xi'an. Here we were to spend the night before leaving early to get to our destination. On the way to Treasure Chicken, we decided to take in a local museum and a tomb.



Pushing through the throngs of tourists in the dense fog, we soon realised that there wasn't a great deal to see at the top. Unfortunately, we had missed the last bus of the day to the bottom of the mountain, and with a 10km trek ahead of us in the cold, were rather cheesed off. Especially as the last bus went at 3pm!?



Luckily our white faces and the generosity of a local driver saved us from the trek after only a few hundred metres and we soon arrived in the museum.



Here we found many gems which were given more than adequate commentary by Jesse (my American friend). My knowledge of China was expanding, fast. China knows how to do history, and with a good five thousand years of the stuff, they kick even the European's ass. Whilst we were playing with rocks and flint, they had already mastered many of the things the Western world was not to encounter for another few thousand years. Consequently, the artefacts on display were pretty impressive, made even more so by the fact they were about a thousand years older than any European equivalent.



In an effort to ensure that the information was not flowing in just one direction, I attempted to fill in Jesse with any science or primitive skills I was aware of. Usually this was simply kept to what kind of elements or chemistry happened behind various preparation methods, but sometimes included items such as flint-napping and other survival techniques.

Arriving in Treasure Chicken rather late, we checked into the nearest hotel and decided to watch some episodes of the British comedy, “Blackadder” on my laptop after failing to find any bars.

With another whole day of travel ahead of us, we headed off early to ensure a timely arrival with our guide. The guide had been arranged on the recommendation of the previous westerner to take the mountain pass, and was known as the local historian; an expert on the pass and its role in history.

Before the departure from Treasure Chicken, we had to take in at least a few sights though – including what was supposed to be one of the best collections of bronze artefacts. I'll be honest here, I never really enjoy the museums who follow the item behind glass formula. However, I've never had someone as informative as Jesse by my side, so often a simple jug would spark a twenty minute conversation on how various aspects of the Chinese dynasty evolved.

Thinking that the rest of our journey would be rather remote and that food may be primitive, we decided to eat at a local duck restaurant, which was almost certainly the best in town. Sitting there, backpacks in tow, we certainly didn't fit in. One would even suspect given the rather personal service we were given, that they hadn't seen a foreigner before. Actually, I'd be pretty certain.



It was time to leave.

Bus followed bus, with roads climbing and descending over endless valleys. Finally we arrived in our destination, much confusing the locals on the bus, who were vexed as to why the foreigners, who were on the bus to a tiny town, would not want to go to the tiny town, but instead to the small village in the middle of nowhere.


[Yes, the pose was taking the mick...]

Here we met our guide and were treated to a hearty reception. With most of the village turning out to see what was going on, we were ushered around, finally resting in the local communist party HQ to see a spring festival dance by the local ladies.



Later that evening, we realised that our guide had warned the local government of our arrival. The greeting party were on their way...


[They were camera shy...]

As the very fancy 4*4 Toyota cruised up to the front door of the village house, we realised this must be a government official. Everyone else in the village was lucky if they had a car, let alone one I couldn't really afford back in the UK! In the dark dust of the evening, three mysterious figures slowly emerged from the vehicle. They were from the local Communist party, and some representatives of the tourist office for the regional head town, about 40 minute's drive away. With one interpreter, the two men proudly stated their names and titles, which could be roughly translated as the vice head of the city (of about 600,000) and the head of tourism.

It was clear that western tourists didn't usually make the two day trek to get here.

Conversation revolved around the usual China items, including jobs, money (including salary) and how brilliant China is. In one rather loaded question, we were asked what we thought of China's role in the world and how it was changing. Thinking fast, I came up with the example of the recent Chinese space mission which is something the Chinese have evident pleasure in recalling. Using this as an example of how China are moving forward as one of the real global powers, I elaborated and tried to show that we were not ignorant hippies. This certainly went down well, as did Jesse's knowledge of their history and culture.

The following day we arose early to begin our trek over the mountain pass. With an estimated six hours for the trek, the pace was slow, but relentless. I was especially amused by the guide's choice of attire: formal shoes and a leather jacket. He was equally amused by mine, which he claimed would be far to thin and I would be too cold. I don't think he's seen a modern jacket before. After a bit of walking though, we were both too hot!








Taking in the (limited) scenery on the way, which was mostly obscured by fog, we slowly wound up the route of the mountain, listening to stories about the history of the pass. Just before the top of the pass we stopped – it seems the Chinese prefer to stop at the bottom of a steep bit, not at the top. Here we ate some more Chinese snacks, before continuing to the top and resting briefly in the sun.



On our steady descent, we noted there were many mines in the local area. It turns out that the area not only mines, but actually refines about 30% of the world's Zinc. This has made the local area very rich in Chinese terms.

On completing our descent, we were again contacted by the government officials, who took us to a local ladies' house for tea and some snacks. Cigarettes were also liberally offered. The concept of being a “non-smoker” was certainly viewed unfavourably – if you are to 'fit in' to your Chinese hosts, taking up smoking may be a good idea.

From here we were taken on a whirlwind tour of the local area, with various “items of dubious interest” being pointed out so we didn't miss them. They were very proud of their town, but may have been accused of trying a little too hard to create items of interest. Of particular amusement was a sign in Chinese written on the mountain pass. It wasn't written on the old road, but next to the new road which was less than 10 years old. So, you're pointing out a sign written in the old style of Chinese, which was written in the last ten years? Nice.



The driver then drove us into the fanciest hotel in town, which happened to be owned by the government. Unfortunately, it cost about 40 pounds a night – with both Jesse and I looking at each other in bemusement, we didn't say anything, but our hosts were very proud when they said we need only pay 17 pounds – still enough to keep us going for over 20 nights in our previous accommodation! With our four hosts surrounding us, we weren't going to say a word and simply paid with a smile.

Following a very quick shower, it was time to eat the formal dinner, for which we had our own private room.

I'd been warned by many people, and two separate guide-books, that China has quite a few customs which are usually dispensed with in everyday life, but are often used in the setting of a formal dinner. Thinking that I would never encounter such a session, I must admit to paying little attention.

First we were greeted by our host, with each of us sitting on either side of the most important person in the room, and an interpreter sitting opposite. Here we received our sweet wine, which was poured in volumes suggesting that it was a spirit (one bottle wasn't even finished by over 7 people). After which time a toast was made to each person in turn by the head-man. However, instead of simply clinking glasses, a more involved affair was called for, whereby the glass was offered to the intended victim, only to be lowered at the last minute. Apparently, the place where the glass was eventually “clinked” signifies the relative standing of the two parties. For example, if you clinked glasses with your boss, he would allow you to make contact with your glass being lower. Given the nature of our host, we decided that we go as low as possible for every person. This repeated every time you wished to take a drink, as you cannot drink without toasting someone elses' glass.



As the meal developed, more and more dishes adorned the central turn-wheel (Lazy Susan for us Brits), each one getting steadily spicier. With only two mouthfuls of food ingested, our hosts insisted that we use a knife and fork – probably more to show off that they had such items, than due to our skills – Jesse had been using one for over three years and was probably better than they were!

With the meal drawing to a close and the table still overflowing with uneaten food, we left the comfort of our private room and were quickly whisked on a personal tour of the town – on the car-driven imitation train no less. With our personal English-speaking guide, we learned of the significance of new structures and then stopped in the prime viewing point for the town's highlight; the tallest fountain in Asia.

Surrounded by little twinkling lights on the hills which were added to imitate the stars that the city smog and lights obscured, we stood on the bridge and awaited the display.



The fountain is reported at making over 180m at full height, and it certainly was higher than I was expecting. I'll have to admit that it was pretty impressive. However, there was a strange feeling when I thought back to our guide who was living in his small house, unwilling to accept even 90p for a night's stay. It seemed like the money could have been put to so much better use, rather than imitating Las Vegas.


[Comments may be exaggerated given the presence of many townspeople]

My concentration soon shifted onto my next sight – we were presented with a very similar event to the night before, with dancing ladies all in a large ring and a good few hundred lookers-on. After smiling and laughing quite a lot, I think they got the idea that we wanted to have a go (Jesse didn't, but I'll have to admit that I certainly did!) Being whisked to the front, we then got one professional dancer each, and tried to strut our stuff. Luckily the dances follow a simple formula: It starts slow and gets faster, all the time doing the same set of motions. This was fine for the second dance, as the motions were easy, however the first and third dance were both rather difficult, and involved kicking, twisting and quick rotations whilst walking in the circle. All of this with a few hundred on-lookers.



After earning quite a lot of respect for giving it a go, and doing our respective nations proud, it was time to retire for the evening – smuggling in a few bottles of beer to end a surprisingly hectic night. First though, our hosts had other ideas.



After just finishing the dancing, we were very expertly ambushed by a local journalist. With both him and a different interpreter from the crowd following us back to our hotel room, we were quizzed on what we though of China and also what we thought of the town.

Throwing in some speak about the electrolysis methods they were using to purify zinc being surprisingly advanced, we answered question after question on items we had no idea about. “So then, what do you think of the future prospects of the town [that you've only just seen for less than three hours] is?”, “Is there any way you can assist us in getting investment into the town?” I think that Jesse had been hyping up my role in my previous job a little bit more than he let on, as I looked at him in a “what the...” way.



Either way, I'm looking forward to the article, which apparently will include some of our quotes and pictures! I'll be sure to post it when it arrives.

The following morning it was time to depart. On our way out, we took in a nice little temple which was sufficiently off the beaten track and met the author of some local historian books who was kind enough to sign a few copies and provide various print-outs of photos taken with him. A few gems to make the otherwise dull 14 hour rushed bus journey worthwhile.






Next time, it's off to Chengdu to see some fluffy Pandas, frazzle our taste-buds on special peppercorns and then Tiger Leaping Gorge – the deepest gorge in the world apparently!

See you then...

Spring Festival

With the impending start of Spring Festival, the air was full of merriment and anticipation...

Within China, the beginning of their new year heralds a new start, shops are busy with last minute shoppers, desperately trying to get their new clothes for the new year. Oh, and the bangers, we mustn't forget those too, as they are always popular!

My host family were no exception. Much to my surprise, it turns out that very few presents are given during this period. The notable exception being small red envelopes containing money, this is exclusively given by married couples to “Children” (who include any unmarried person in Chinese culture).



On the eve of New Year my host family and I undertook a whirlwind tour of the relatives of the family. Each relative were given a very brief time to offer their gifts and exchange what I assume were kind words. With much of the visitation finished for the day, we were off to the local market to grab some last-minute specific foods for the next few days. Everyone else had the same idea, so with the fabled Chinese etiquette always amiss, I jostled my way through the crowd heading for the family favourite food vendors. Like all Chinese desserts, they looked brilliant, and were a horrible let-down when you tasted them and realised they tasted just like rice, again!



It is also customary on the actual day to visit a temple - but, as we didn't want to hit the queues on the day itself, we decided to visit on of Shanghai's three temples the day before. Here, we saw a large collection of statues, each one depicting a year. After some figuring out (as the years were given in Chinese), I managed to locate the one for my mother's birth year, as it was her birthday in a few days. I think you will have to agree that the likeness is uncanny:



That evening all the family and I gathered together to have one huge meal. With this being the custom in China, the meal had to start at 5pm, finishing by 7pm, as we were packed into the first sitting of a rather nice restaurant. The meal was tremendous. A real selection of what makes Chinese food brilliant, with dishes from all parts of almost every animal. There were pigs ears, skin and meat. Chicken offal, head and meat. Some rather random fish, including the now “normal” fish-head soup. Random bits of the sea which I have no idea what they were, and vegetables which needed a science fiction novel to identify.



Much after everyone else had finished, I was still picking through the bones of a rather nice sweet and sour whole fish, who looked like it had lost a battle with a hand grenade. Fantastic stuff!



As the evening drew closer, the frequency and volume of fireworks increased. All happily sheltered within one of the relatives house, I had taken it upon myself to learn Marjong. Marjong is a “card game” which is played with tiles similar to dominoes, but with Chinese characters on them. With no-one in the room able to speak a word of English, my very limited Chinese was put to the test as I part mimed, partly guessed as to what was going on.



Just as I was becoming aware of what was actually going on, and with only two hours to go until the big moment, my host family decided rather randomly that they wanted to go home.

So we quickly rushed home via the last tube and then took one of very few remaining taxis to arrive only 40 minutes before the big moment. I was rather shocked therefore, when the girl hid in her room playing her computer, and at midnight the mother and I decided to set fire to about eight fireworks. It seemed like a bit of an anti-climax, but was still the best Chinese New Year I've celebrated in China.



Over the following days, I went exploring the surrounds of the city, meeting fellow travellers on the way. Often I would simply stumble across an excellent local market, which gave ample opportunity to practise my Mandarin bargaining skills.





An art in itself, I hope to enlighten you as to what methods seem to work best in China:

1) The Approach. This is one of the most important parts – with so many of those “Self Help” books talking about how the initial impact will often determine any relationship, you must get this right. My objective right from square one was to look firstly like a student and secondly look like I was local, or at least knew what I was doing. So time to put on a shabby jacket (my Paramo jacket was perfect for this as it didn't have a logo they recognised and is frankly styled by a blind-man). Now time to put on an equally well worn relaxed and comfortable smile. This is my neighbourhood, don't you k now....

2) First Contact. This MUST be done in their local language. If they talk to you in English, look blank and consider moving on. Never reply in English. One time I even said “I don't understand” in Chinese and then went into my normal patter of “Hello”, followed by “I'll look.”

3) Hassle Prevention. Being a foreigner, they will want to talk to you, they may even want to be nice to you. These pose a serious issue; I cannot really understand what they are saying, let alone formulate a sufficiently plausable answer to their questions. One phrase which works really well is the “I'll look” phrase. If they start asking loads of questions, look really interested in the garment in front of you, or notice something really interesting the other side of the store, open it up and start to examine.

4) The Examination. Now it's time to determine if you actually want the product. So pick it up, and look at it like you buy the things professionally. I mean really look at it. Check out the stitching, blow into the fabric to see if it allows air to pass through, if it's waterproof, get out a bottle of water and put it closer as if you were about to test it. If it's silk, then get out a lighter and prepare to light a thread and sniff. One method which always works well if you don't have a clue what you are supposed to examine, is either to rub two things together (like bracelets etc) smelling what's been let off, or peer at it really closely with a light. I've actually got a light on my bag to do this. At this stage make sure you don't let on that you like it. If the store manager is near you (which he will be) then look sufficiently unimpressed, even if it's the best thing you've seen, ever. Defects should be emphasised heavily!

5) Pricing. Now that we've ascertained that we want the garment, it's time to ask how much (in Chinese). If you are in a foreigner place like a fake market, ask how much at the first store, walk away and then listen for the lowest number. Go to the next place which will sell the same identical product, and instead of asking how much, offer about 1/4 of the lowest number they shouted at you. This should be below 10% of the initial asking price they would have mentioned in the first shop. If you are at a non-touristy place, then ask how much before offering. Whatever they say, the next words out of your mouth should be “too expensive” (in Chinese though.) Now put a look on your face as if they have just insulted your mother – although you have to gauge how heavy this should be, as looking deeply insulted for a pair of socks could be seen as slightly excessive...It's now time to enter the world of offering and re-offering. Personally, I tended to bargain REALLY hard in tourist spots, and be a wet anywhere remote. Sometimes I even tried to pay them more than the asking price if I was in the middle of nowhere, as they gave me such an excellent price to begin with! If you don't get the price you think is fair, walk away.

6) Wrap-up. Remember that you are always an ambassador for your country, so whatever the negotiation consequences, say thanks and give them a good smile and goodbye. I've had the most hostile negotiation, only to get such a fantastic thanks at the end. Business is business, what comes after is separate in China.



After honing some of my Chinese market skills, and playing some rather shockingly bad games of pool with some fellow Brits, my time in Shanghai was drawing to a close. My last lessons in Mandarin were more cultural than they were Mandarin based, with my questions relating to ettiquite and common Chinese games. Very kindly, one of my teachers brought in a kind of shuttle-cock which you hit with your feet. Now, I did warn her, I would like to point this out now. My football is utterly dire. I have many skills in life, and football is not one of them. This game is too close to football.



Playing on the seventh floor balcony, we tried to hit the ball from one person to another. Things were going really well, right up to the moment that I deftly kicked the toy over the balcony edge. It arced majestically over the small bushes, to drift onto the first story roof of the guard tower. Go me.

If you're reading this, I'm really sorry I'm so inept!



It was now time to say goodbye to my host family, who had kindly arranged for my train into Xi'an, the location of the Terracotta Warriors, and one of the old capitals of China.



On the train I met a very friendly local Chinese resident who was also a local tour guide. As a result, I think my knowledge of Xi'an was already pretty good for someone who was just arriving I such a city. He kindly offered to give me a lift to a local hostel (which was excellent) on the way to his house.



In the next edition, it's back to being the only tourist in the village, as I cross a mountain pass which formed a vital part of China's history for thousands of years. I meet the local communist party, do some dancing (this time captured on camera) and also befriend an American student who teaches me more about Chinese culture than I knew existed. And much, much more...