Trans-Siberian Railway 2 - Ulaan Bataar & the steppes of Mongolia

Photos: http://transsiberianrailwayexperience.shutterfly.com

After the peace and calm of the Gobi Desert I headed to the bright lights and big city of Mongolia's capital, Ulaan Bataar. Ok, bright lights might be a bit of an exaggeration but it is a pretty big city (over a million people) and a far cry from the remoteness of the Gobi Desert ger camp. Our guide Orkhon travelled with us on the train from Sainshand to UB, and continued to be our guide for the rest of our time in Mongolia. Aside from enjoying her company and energy immensely, I have to say I was glad to have her on the train with us as the carriage attendant came to tell us that that there would be a 30 minute stop in the middle of the night “in a town with bad people” and to make sure our doors and windows were locked so they wouldn't reach in while we were sleeping. That's one rather important piece of information I'm glad we had a translator for.

Arriving in UB in the morning of Day 5, we had breakfast in a Mongolian fast food joint (which served very good Mongolian dumplings Orkhon assured us) and had a quick tour of the city before we headed to another ger camp an hour outside of the city on the open steppes. In UB, we went up to the Zaisan Hill Memorial for an incredible vista of the city (and a local hang out for UB's bored youth). We then went to the centre of town to see the main square, the very impressive Mongolian House of Parliament, and other important city buildings. There was also a parade for Mongolia's (three) Olympic athletes that were heading to Beijing, which made for some great people watching. There were lots of posters and blaring loudspeakers while we walked around the city as well because the Parliamentary elections that were being held the week after, which I'm glad we missed because there were huge city riots on the day. Apparently every man between the ages of 15 and 65
were out on the streets getting up to mayhem.

After our city tour (I would return to explore UB in a few days time), we were taken to our next ger camp for a few more days of traditional Mongolian life. At the Elstei Ger Camp I somehow snagged a huge four bed ger all to myself while married couples were given two bed gers that leaked during subsequent storms, as I found out later. The food was still delicious and coming in enormous proportions supplied, interestingly, by an Indian chef who spoke excellent Mongolian. The camp was even plusher than the Gobi Desert camp but I don't think it had the same character. It was a little more touristy with a proper shower block, a bar in the dining hall, and even had a little 'tourist shop ger'. The shop actually served my purposes very well though, as I achieved one of my goals for Mongolian: buying a pair of Mongolian boots. They are fabulous and everyone admired them, all confirming that for the first time in recorded history that a “hotel” souvenir shop was actually cheaper than souvenir shops in town. They really came in handy too, as it rained quite a lot for the rest of my time in Mongolia and were perfect waterproof hiking/riding boots.

Which brings me to the second of my achieved goals for Mongolia: horseback riding through the open steppes. It's a good thing that Mongolian ponies are a strong breed because I looked a little like an adult riding a child's bike, my legs hanging down near the poor creatures knees. It was amazing, we rode out to see the free roaming sheep and goats herds, and the rain held off just long enough that afternoon for me to also hike up to the big hill behind the camp. The camp dog had seen me leaving and she joyously bounded after me, accompanying me all the way. It was a special moment for me, sitting next to Dog on the top of that hill, looking out across the beautiful countryside.

While staying in the steppes, I also visited a traditional nomadic family where we were fed salted tea and sweetened butter (I think they mixed up the labels on the tins), and also went to see a giant metal monument of a mounted Genghis Khan. It was just being finished and quite a sight, but sadly the surrounding area was sadly marked for the construction of what would essentially become a tourist district. They were going to build 200 gers, shops, a hotel and restaurant so I think I'll be one of the last to see that corner of the country looking remotely untouched.

After the camp, I had another day and night in UB, where I did some exploring through the backstreets of the city where I guess a lot of tourists don't go from the looks I was getting. I bought a pair of matching camel hair slippers for Mum and Dad (as a thank you for bailing me out at the last second in Beijing), and a pair for Leeann and Golo (as a thank you for putting up with me for nearly two months in London) and sent them off to their respective parts of the world. And I sent my boots back to Australia too, to assure those of you who tutted at me for breaking the second cardinal rule of backpacking: travel light (the first of course being, always know where your towel is). I don't know when I'll be able to wear the boots next anyway, as I've got perpetual summer for the next 12 months, which I just had to rub in for those of you huddled over your computers in the Southern hemisphere.

I also went to the excellent Natural History Museum which had some impressive fossils. Mongolia is a really interesting geological area, and have a lot of very important archaeological sites. There a lot of coal and natural resources so it is unfortunately being plundered for its riches at an alarming rate to try to satisfy the thirst of China and other developing countries. I unfortunately missed Mongolia's biggest national festival, which would have been fantastic, with celebrations throughout the country of Mongolia's tradition sports; wrestling, horse racing and archery.

But on my last day I did find “Aura”, a bar/restaurant that actually surpassed the kitsch levels set by Chinese establishments, simply because it had a more authentic Wild West saloon feel about it. I don't like eating in touristy places so I walked in a unlikely looking unmarked door and when I heard strains of ABBA floating down the flashing pink fairy lighted passage, I knew I'd hit gold. The place was complete with diamond shaped mirrored tiles on the wall, pink neon lights under a green bar with red and white panels, faux brick fireplace with a gold plated sailing ship on top, fake saloon doors, all manor of certificates on the walls, a mixture of shiny and furry wallpaper, the occasional Buddhist icon, and of course the tackiness of decades old advertising for all kinds of alcohol. Absolute gold I tell you, and they make a mean noodle soup.

Getting on the train to Russia, I was tingling with excitement. Finally, Mother Russia! My anticipation was only tempered by my sadness to farewell Orkhon, whom I'd really come to love in our week together. Where I'd lost a friend though, I'd gained two because I found out that Becca and Clark who'd I'd met briefly in the second ger camp were my cabin mates to Irkutsk, my first stop in Russia. We became fast friends and looking back now they are so much a part of what I loved about the trip. In the train, we whittled away many hours talking, laughing, eating and drinking, and I can't wait to go to the States to embark on an ambitious new road trip I'm plotting. But that's another trip for another year...

Trans-Siberian Railway 1 - To Mongolia and the Gobi Dessert

Greetings from the Trans-Siberian Railway!

Photos: http://transsiberianrailwayexperience.shutterfly.com/

Leaving Beijing was both an exhilarating and incredibly sad affair, and I was so exhausted by the time I got on the train at 7am that I honestly don't remember too much of the journey until we arrived in Erlian (the Chinese border town) at abut 9pm.You have the option of getting off or staying on the train when it goes off to change the 'bogeys' (the train wheels). They do this because the train tracks are different on the Mongolian/Russia side and the whole thing takes about three hours. I thought the train attendant had said we could still see the process from the station (my final example of how-my-mandarin-isn't-up-to-scratch) so I got off with my cabin mates to stockpile food, get some air and have a stretch.

Now, we were warned that the train bathrooms are locked 30 minutes before and after we arrive at the station, which is part of the reason I got off the train. What I didn't realise was that they remained locked throughout the whole border crossing until we pulled away on the Mongolian side, which was another two hours after we were allowed back on. Still in my Chinese habit of constantly drinking green tea, I got back on the train already needing to use the facilities and the wait through two passport checks and customs was, by the end of it, excruciating. Since watching Ewan Macgregor's “The Long Way Round” a few years ago I've been desperate to see Mongolia, but I never thought I'd be quite this as desperate and quite in this way. Luckily, I'd made friends with the Chinese carriage attendant who saw me hopping around and unlocked a lavatory early for me. He earned a bag of sweets off me for that one.

The officialdom of the border crossing was interesting. It was about 2am by the time it was all over, and I needed to be up at 5am for my first stop so my sleep deprivation experiment continued into Day 7. And I thought I would be able to catch up on rest on this trip! But of course it's all been so worth is, and at 05:30 I got off in Sainshand, the town on the edge of the Gobi Desert and my first Trans-Siberian Railway stop.

The Gobi Desert is nothing short of breathtakingly beautiful. Some people would (and have, see next paragraph) say there's nothing to see in a desert but I think its one of the most beautiful vistas Nature has to offer. The Gobi far surpassed all my expectations, though the same cannot be said by my travel companions.

Here I should mention that I made arrangements for this trip through a specialised Trans-Siberian travel company. They arranged all my tickets, transfers, accommodations, visas and the occasional guide to help with travel and language difficulties. I always planned this trip as a sojourn, but I decided to book through this company to avoid all the difficulties I knew could and would arise. I chose Monkey Shrine because they were by far the best value and very specifically differentiate themselves from being a “tour group”. There is no hand holding, shopping trips, and no flags! But, I was informed there were two others traveling on the same schedule as me from Beijing all the way to Moscow, which I was a little apprehensive about. So I emailed my soon-to-be companions and found out that they were a couple in their 70s who had travelled around the world and sounded quite lovely so I thought all would be well. Ha. But I'm not going to waste my time or yours by writing more about their racist, petty negative attitudes. I just ignored them as much as possible, and not a thing in this world was going to ruin my trip.

Anyway! Mongolia: We were met at the train station by the sparkling Orkhon, our Mongolian guide. There isn't much in the town of Sainshand, it's a gateway to the Gobi Desert and an old coal mining town and we drove straight through to where we were staying about 30 mins out of the city. It was properly dawn as we drove and as the sun rose, illuminating the desert, it hit me, 'Oh my god, I'm really here. I'm in Mongolia! I'm in the Gobi Desert!' And I felt all the tiredness of the last few weeks just melt away as we pulled into the ger camp.

Gers are the traditional houses of the Mongolian nomads (similar to 'yurts' in Russia) and the ger in the camp where amazingly comfortable. Certainly comfier than my dinky “studio” apartment in Beijing. I spent many wonderful hours sitting in the shade writing in my journal, and I was constantly taking photos. Actually, doing that on my first evening almost got me in a bit of a pickle.

I went for a walk after dinner because the sunset was so breathtakingly beautiful. I took nearly 90 photos of that one sunset alone! I walked westward, stopping every few minutes to take a few more shots and walked to the power lines I'd thought would be photogenic. I spend ages composing shots, and used the self timer to take a few fun shots of myself. Then (and I have Golo to thank for this), I turned around to see the view behind and saw strange clouds rolling toward me. Typical me, I just think “Wow, cool!” and start taking photos of it. By the time I had taken just one I realised it was gaining on me at a rate of a few hundred meters a second and oh, wait, holy crap it's a ruddy great big sandstorm.

Grabbing my stuff, I headed back to camp and noted I'd gone a little further than I realised and that it was a good five minute walk back. Checking over my shoulder I guessed I had about half that before it hit but I wasn't worried as I was well within view and I wouldn't get lost, just a little dusty. It was just getting a little sandy when I see one of the camp's van come screeching out toward me and lurch to a halt, door flying open. “Michelle!” Orkhon calls, “Come in!” I get in and poor Orkhon was breathing so hard it was like she'd run a marathon. “Oh Michelle!” she pants, laughing “The desert can be very dangerous! Change very fast! I look and look, where is Michelle?”. I couldn't help it, I laughed, and apologised repeatedly to both her and the driver for having to come get me. By the time we got back to camp it'd well and truly hit, so we all retreated to our gers to wait it out. Hilarious! Typical me, talking so many photos I nearly get caught in a sandstorm.

Well, that wasn't our only sandstorm either, we had a fantastic one right as we were leaving to go to our next stop. Just wait til I get the photos up, it'll blow you away. The other driver apparently said to Orkhon that I'd had three good omens (the two sandstorms and seeing the snakes) and so it meant I might marry a Mongolian man. I think he was offering, bless him, though I doubt he'd be so keen if he knew I was close to 30; in Mongolian that's considered to be middle aged!

So the Gobi was the perfect start to my trip and a side of Mongolia not many people see. From there I went to Ulaan Bataar, the capital city, and saw the other side of life in Mongolia...

The Final Farewell

Photos

Well, this is it: I'm off on the Trans-Siberian Railway in five hours and need to get some sleep so I can't even begin to tell you all about one of the most amazing weeks of my life.

These last few weeks have had it all: from frantic packing to last minute explorations, misty-eyed goodbyes and the most hideous pair of neon pink polka-dotted shorts that ever existed, and from champagne brunches to perfect Beijing moments: I've had the absolute best end to the best year of my life. And you know what? It's all up from here.

Signing off for now, see you at the end of the (Trans-Siberian Railway) line!

The beginning (and middle) of the end

Photos

It's been a long long time and this is my penultimate update until I reach London in under a month's time. As of Tuesday morning I will be an intrepid explorer as I'll be living one of my dreams and taking the Trans-Siberian Railway through Mongolia and Russia, with stops in the Gobi Desert, Ulaan Bataar, Irkutsk, Yekaterinburg, Moscow and St Petersburg.

Trying to be brief, since my trip to Shanghai I've had the busiest few months of my whole time in China . I went to a great yoga retreat in the mountains west of Beijing over a long weekend which was fantastic, and then there where a suite of birthdays, including mine. For those of you who didn't know, one of my best friends Leeann came all way to Beijing to share my birthday with me; the best present ever.

We did a "Best of Beijing" 10 day tour which included eating everything in sight and a few new touristy things for me, like a five hour hike along the best part of the Beijing Great Wall on a stunning day, a Chinese acrobatics show and spotting a hoopoe (a stunning bird I never knew existed, especially not in Beijing!). Leeann and my other friends helped me celebrate my ageing in fine style, ending with a "special" blue birthday cocktail that certainly helped me forget how old I am as well as how we got home that night.

After Leeann left, I went into full moving-out mode: photos and paintings came down, the suitcase came out and the superfluous junk I've accumulated despite my best efforts were thrown into piles. I just sent off the first package home via surface mail: 20kgs! In my defense, that one had all my books and boots. In the last two weeks I've had a suspicious looking moley molely molely mole (a la Austin Powers) spliced out of my arm, which left a nice little bowl shaped wound that looked like a leprechaun has come in the night with a mini-melonballer (be "Sun safe" people!); I was "fare welled" at work last Friday though I wasn't leaving for another 11 days; and Chralotte and I spent a days shopping for a hideous outfit for our 'Farewell China' costume party I'm arranging called the "Best of China Kitsch". I tried on a pair of shorts and Charlotte laughed so hard she was actually crying. There will be many photos soon, watch this space.

Finally, I am almost properly online again after having sold my old laptop and having to wait nearly three weeks for the new one, and it's fantastic! With the help of Lee, my IT guru, I choose the new Asus Eee and it packs a punch for something that weighs less than a kilogram and cost less than AUS$500. I will be able to do some writing while on the train which excites me no end, and will be able to get online if I manage to find a wireless cafe in Moscow. Fingers crossed!

Four days and four hours to go before I leave... but who's counting?

Shakin' it in Shanghai

My Chinese-language lesson classmate, fellow Youth Ambassador and all round awesome friend Naomi has recently got a dream job to return to East Timor to be with her dream man and so her departure from China was imminent. Shanghai was on her list of places to see and so she called me up and said "Hey, Shacks, you wanna go to Shangers with me?"."Dui dui dui!" I replied (which I don't think really needs translating).

And after the customary ticket hassles we were on our way to live it up in the international business capital of China. We flew out from the Airport's new Terminal 3 though I didn't know this until I was trying to check-in at Terminal 2 and the lady smiled and said, "Oh no, you want Terminal 3. You want Air China." Looking pointedly at the Air China symbol on the counter, on her tag and at the large text saying "Air China" above her head, I knew better than to say anything and just asked how to get to T3.

The free shuttle bus between terminals, though convenient, is obviously driven by a Laotian because they were in no rush to go anywhere fast, and Nai and I dashed to the right counter in the shiny new building so be told the check-in had closed. She told us we can go to to the ticket counter and take the next flight. I asked how late we were and she said check-in closed an hour before departure. I looked at the clock: we were 4 minutes late.

Despite my sadness that my perfect flight attendance record had been shattered (it would have to be Beijing that did it) we caught the next flight which left so soon that we had to leg it to the boarding gate. The flight gave us the chance to read about Shanghai and plan the attractions we wanted to see. We were mesmerised (and horrified) to experience a new feature on Air China's fleet: the Wheel-Cam. Yes indeed, they have a little camera on the landing gear of the plane so that on the cabin screen you can first watch the earth fall away from under you at take-off, then the earth come hurtling back toward you when landing. Comforting.

We managed to find our way from the airport to our little hostel near the centre of town via the notoriously bad maps of the Lonely Planet, and booked into what turned out to be a windowless creepy sort of room. Two guys were moving out as we were moving in and Nai asked why they were switching rooms and the man hesitated. "Oh, no reason," he said a little too casually, "we were here a day early and our other room is now available." Hmmmm, we thought, but as no other room was available we simply headed out to explore Shanghai.

The Shanghai Hikers Youth Hostel is near the centre of town, one street West of the Bund so that was our first stop. In the 1930s Shanghai became the most important port in Asia for tea, silk, porcelain and of course opium. The world's largest trading and banking firms set up house along the Bund, the major river running through the city, and the architecture still reflects these foreign influences and lends an interesting nuance to the city. The Bund walk was packed with tourists taking the same photos and pushy vendors selling the same gizmos but it was a great view across the river and at the old colonial buildings built along the waterfront.Of note was the ubiquitous Chairman Mao statue that was a little more camp than usual.

We walked all the way down to visit the Yuyuan Bizarre (yes I spelt that wrong to more accurately describe it). The "old-styled" buildings of the "antique" and souvenir shopping mall was kitsch but cute, and clearly Haagen-Daaz, KFC and Starbucks add a particular authenticity to the place because they were (as always) packed with people not adventurous enough to try something new.And if I thought there were lots of tourists at the Bund, it had nothing on this place! Chinese, American, French, and German tour groups all jostled for space and in matching jackets we even spotted the Canadian Band Salute tour group ("This one time, at band camp, we went to Beijing!"). Shanghai is famous for it's food (like everywhere in China) but particularly it's variety of steamed dumplings - Xiao Long Bao. In Yuyuan we were told of the famous Nanxiang Steamed Bun Restaurant and spotted it a mile away because that's how long the queue was. It was a little too meaty for the on-again-off-again-vegetarian in Nai so I gobbled them all up, and we snacked our way around the city from that moment onwards. We wandered into the Yuyuan Gardens which was a respite from the hoards and wandered through the pagodas, rockeries and corridors.

From there we explored back streets and dead-ends until we headed back to the Bund, and found a beer launch at The Bund Brewery that (for the price of a name card) let you in for a free pint. An excellent start. We were heading to the Peace Hotel Bar, which was famous for it's live Jazz in the evenings which has been a tradition since the 1940s and still had two members of the first all-Chinese Jazz band, but our information was obviously out-of-date and we found the Peace Hotel (yes, not just the bar, the hotel!) shut down and boarded up. Nai's friend had suggested Bar Rouge for the view so we ended up there, paying RMB80 for a weak cocktail, sitting in red velvet cubes in the semi-darkness. But, yes, the view across the river was quite stunning, though the jury was out on whether it was RMB80 worth of view.

That night we found out why the two men had moved out: that dark windowless, airless room was an oven for nightmares. I'm not convinced that during our first night we weren't all oxygen deprived and suffered a little carbon dioxide poisoning. Strange, twisty, and disturbing dreams were had by all in the room, and though I realised there was a small extraction fan which I turned on during the remaining nights, the bad dreams didn't stop. There was some serious bad vibe-age in that room though it's interesting how quickly you both recover from and get used to waking up sweating and perturbed.

Nothing was going to stop us though, and on our second day we headed out to XinTianDi, a very swanky business and entertainment complex where were told to find the French bakery "Paul" for divine baked goods. Too trendy to be interesting beyond Paul's amazing chocolate croissant, we left the complex and headed to the French Concession for a walk around. In the 1840s, the British, French, American and Japanese established concessions (territories) after China lost the first Opium War and the French Concession was a great mix of traditional residential buildings, trendy modern shopping and Art Deco blocks.

Walking through more backstreets, we went in search of something I really wanted to see: the Propaganda Poster Art Centre. The first sign we were going to have a long search ahead of us was the fact it wasn't even marked on the LP map. The second was the description of how to get there: "a small gallery in the bowels of a residential block... once you find the main entrance a guard will point you the way." We wandered for ages, going North, South, East and West of the general vicinity to no avail. To our surprise, the Shanghainese were both helpful and knowledgeable when asked for directions, something Beijingren are not! People did their best to help us but all admitted that they didn't know exactly where it was we wanted to go. I guess a propaganda gallery isn't a top local attraction.

But! We did manage to stumble on the Holy Grail: H&M. It was Naomi's mission to get clothes for East Timor and despite my insistence that I didn't need anything, we spent two glorious hours there and tried on over a dozen items each. It was a feeding frenzy of trying, comparing and buying and we stumbled out of the shop a little dizzy but fully sated.

No propaganda, but we did find manage to find the bizarre China Sex Culture Museum in the PuDong New Area on the other side of the Bund near the famous Oriental Pearl Tower. The Museum should have had the description "a small gallery in the bowels of the Bund Sightseeing Tunnel entrance... you'll never know it's down there until you ask someone to point you the way." Luckily, we managed to find the exhibition of copulating statues, sex tools to keep widows chaste, and (my favourite) a bamboo figure "used for delivering the signal for lovemaking in by Shao nationality, Taiwan. When the husband sees the penis of the figure is in erections, it means the wife wants to make coitus; if the penis is in down position, then not." I'm so putting that on my wedding gift register.

Taking the epilepsy-inducing, mind warping Bund Sightseeing Tunnel, Nai found us a fantastic little tapas bar Azul where we splashed out on a nice bottle of wine and had a very romantic little tête-a-tête (sorry Luis!). Despite our exhaustion, we decided to have just one drink at The Cotton Club, having heard great things about it, and were so glad we did. The house jazz band were amazing, better than anything I've heard in Beijing, and poor Nai mourned the lack of live music in East Timor. And the lack of nightlife. And vegetarian food. And the fact that if you look after your pet dog too well, your neighbours will steal it and eat it. This piece of information knocked me for six, and my first though of course was that Diego wouldn't last 1.095 seconds.

The next day we went to the DuoLun Road Cultural Street, once home to some of China's most famous writers and lined with marvellous old buildings. I bought a book on 'Moscow, St Petersberg and the Golden Ring' for a whole ￥40 (I'm already ecstatic about my Trans-Siberian trip) and we settled in at the gorgeous Old Film Cafe, lined with old posters and photos of film beauties. A small consolation to not finding the propaganda posters, there was a shop displaying the private collection of over 10,000 Mao badges, and a second-hand store selling the most fabulous Mao-era posters, records, books and genuine antiques (or you'd hope they were genuine for the price!).

That night we tried to be a little more social and sat at the Hostel bar for awhile. But after speaking to a teacher who'd been living in a shared hostel room for over a year (crazy!) and a rotund vegan who lectured us on the morality and intricacies of life vs. health insurance, we decided socialising was over-rated and went to bed.

Our final day was spent in Qibao, an ancient canal town which has been tourist-ified to within an inch of it's peeling paint. We wanted to visit other less-touristy canal towns but a late start, an out-of-date guidebook and a closed down bus station left us no choice but to go to the closest option. Well, like all good tourist spots the shopping was good and the food was great, so we strolled around and took a short boat ride to ease Naomi's weary bones as I'd managed to break her feet with all the rushing around.

With little to do until our flight home, we had a foot massage where karma bit me in the bum and the man broke MY foot with his machinations, and somehow time slipped away and suddenly we were late for our flight. We caught it by the skin of out teeth this time though, thanks to Naomi's optimism forcing me to keep going. And bless Air China, no deed goes unpunished, so we were relegated to the back of the plane, grudgingly given a cold sandwich and our baggage was withheld until the very end (that might not be strictly true, but just cause you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out of get you. Especially in China).

Naomi has now left us and is sorely missed. I owe her a debt for dragging my sorry carcass out of my chair and getting me to Shangahi, and can only hope the sympathy pain in my foot that lasted four days was a small consolation for breaking hers by dragging her at break neck speed around the city! I miss you Naomi, see you in East Timor!

A Chance So Rare

Rapunzel fair, rich hues reveal,
the depth in shining eyes.
Broad tears they cling, to glass when held,
inspect against the light.
Too cool at first, I give it time,
on ice a little long.
It's warming now, to tease my tongue,
a hint at what's to come.

Inhale a breath, and draw it in,
each sip unearths a tale.
Old-fashioned spice, rich caramel,
tart fruit on winds set sail.
Now warmer still, it's quiet song,
a rich orchestre of dreams.
Singing sweet, I listen close,
a tapestry of scenes.

A life so young, how can it be,
so soft yet bold and strong?
The meld of such elusive traits,
I've waited for so long.
Each nip is held, so more revealed,
this chance to savour slow.
The honeyed words, the silky scent,
the swirl of time runs low.

No connoisseur; I recognise,
a chance so rare to hold,
may not again, our paths to cross,
this taste, this gaze, of gold.

Green

green as Othello's gaze
green as rolling glades
regal jade green
true love green
green as contented seas
green as fresh mint leaves

Finding the Muse

Photos:
BJ Update Misc - The Cool Collection
Week 38 - Finding the Muse

Spring has truly sprung and I can now look at my winter photos without shuddering so I've posted an album of miscellaneous photos. It includes mine and Tashs' excursion to the famous 798 Art District (lots of old factories now turned into art galleries), some great Chinglish signs, a bar with a glass floor/celiling, Beijing's best snow day, Beijing's best cup of coffee, my favourite dog, work events (our annual party and Meng Yan's farewll karaoke do), The-Night-My-Coke-Froze-Before-My-Eyes-As-I-Walked-Home, and my first ever published article! It's an article on the impact of disposable chopsticks on China's environment and I submitted it to "Exchange", the Youth Ambassador newsletter. Not a very discerning publication (they'll take contributions from anyone) but I was proud nonetheless.

But more importantly since I've been back, the game is afoot!

Firstly I've been totally inspired at work, with (literally) jumping back on the work wagon. a few weeks ago, we ran our first Antelope Van activity for the year. The Antelope Van is a mobile classroom, taking environmental education activities to schools around Beijing. We went to a primary school in West Beijing, and Zhang Siying asked me to help out with one of the games. I called out numbers between one and five in English and the kids had to get into groups of that size to show they really understood (the kids were five years old). It was a precursor to getting them into pairs for the next game, but I just appreciated Siying involving me. She mentioned that there would be some journalists there, but as my organisation have quite a lot of press coverage I didn't think much of it.

Until I received a call from a rather senior guy at the Beijing "Ao li pi ka" organising committee thingo (for ease, I will refer it as BAOCT) asking me for details about the event. I told him as much as I knew, and mentioned that there would be some reporters too. Yes, he said, he knew, and he was about to send out the info to all his media contacts so there would be even more. How many more? I asked. Lots, he said. Riiiight, I replied, ok.

So there will be someone to talk to them? he asked.
Well, yes, I said, there will be.
In English?
Yes, in English.
And you'll be there?
Yes, I will, but I'm not there for that.
Well, you might have to. They'll want to talk to you.
Oh crap.
(I may have paraphrased that last bit)

So, as it turns out it was a media event for the the BAOCT to showcase their partner environmental organisations. I had to brush up on what the BAOCT were doing to "green" it up (not many), what was planned for the future (nothing concrete) and what of the day's EE activities were relevant to the Ao li pi ka (none whatsoever).

So I went and it was a media circus! I did indeed have to talk to people because the foreign media were drawn to the only laowai there. From an American radio journalist to a gorgeous Japanese tv reporter who, in her own words, had been "looking for someone to follow leading up to it, and... I've found you!" Bless her she looked so happy, but I was relieved when I explained that I would be leaving well before the riot, sorry Games. There was a slight drop in her smile at that news, but she brightened again when I told her I was there til June, which she insisted was fine. So, you never know, I might end up on Japanese TV.

And, most excitingly, for the last week I've been busy volunteering for the Beijing International Literary Festival. With big names like Nury Vittachi ('The Feng Shui Detective' series and HK's most famous English language writer), Anna Funder ('Stasiland'), Justin Hill ('The Drink and Dream Teahouse'), Christopher Kremmer ('Carpet Wars', 'Inhaling the Mahatma'), Christopher Koch ('A Year Of Living Dangerously'), Liz Niven ('Buring Whins' and 'Stravaigan') and Ouyang Yu ('On the Smell of an Oily Rag: being Chinese, speaking English, living Australian'), it has drawn huge crowds and is a roaring success. And by the way, if you're looking for something great to read all those authors are fantastic and have written the most interesting books, so pick them up if you can.

It has all cemented something I've always known but have only recently realised: I really want to be a writer. Well, I am a writer, I've always written. For one things, I keep bombarding all of you with my egocentric thoughts on a roughly weekly basis. This festival has been my muse, and being around so many great creative minds (and all genuinely amazing people) has inspired me to a whole new level.

Speaking of amazing people, I had the very very great honour of being Nury Vittachi's assistant during his time in Beijing. Anyone from HK will have heard of Nury Vittachi and I knew his lovely wife while studying Theatre Studies at high school in HK. I took him to and from his events, helped with his workshop, and helped organise his (as it turned out) very high-brow literary dinner! For example, the Literary Editor of The Observer was there! I know because he gave me his card!

And I can say with total shamelessness that I have a serious case of hero worship. He is an amazing man; quiet and unassuming, but with such wit, warmth and wisdom. I enjoyed every minute I had with him and he gave me such great advice. I grinned like a little kid when he said we were buddies! The four glasses of wine I'd had at the dinner may have added to the embarrassingly childish pleasure at the compliment...

I also did a brilliant Travel Writing Workshop with George Dunford, a writer for the Lonely Planet, Rough Guides, Wanderlust and the Australian Traveller magazine. Lots of tips and ideas, I'm now I'm preparing to do my first "pitch" to an editor. I don't know what I'll pitch, or to whom, but I at least now I know how to do it :)

I've been to talks and discussions with the above mentioned authors which have all been enlightening, and have quite a few new books signed by the authors too. And today I assisted Liz Niven (a wonderful Scottish poet) at some poetry workshops which was a fantastic experience. I love working with kids, and learned some really great exercises to get the creative juices flowing. I'm not a poet, it's definitely not a form I'm any good at, but I think even I could have a crack at some of the activities Liz did. It's all just so exciting at times I thought I would actually burst!

Leavin' Laos and Culture in Cambodge

Photos

At the end of the last update Nishara, Yvonne and I head further south through Laos. We made our way to our final destination before crossing the border to Cambodia, the 4000 Islands. I'm highly dubious that there are in fact 4000 islands (maybe if you count every clump of plant sticking up out of the water) it was nonetheless a paradise of islands, Indochinoise style.

Two of the largest islands sit comradely together. Don Dhet and Don Khon are the most popular place for visitors to to the islands to lounge. There are probably hundreds of riverside bungalows, especially the North side of Don Dhet where we stayed. Its wall-to-wall huts for several kilometres! After being ferried to Don Dhet, we found ourselves staying in "Paradise"; that is, Paradise Guesthouse. It was everything we wanted; hammocked, quiet, overlooking an especially picturesque part of the Mekong and cheap as woodchips (I can't remember exactly but it was in the order of US$2 a bungalow a night).

Walking along the riverside road we noticed the oddly frequent reoccurrence of the reference to "happy" food, and it started to make us wonder. As it turns out, the island was full of "happy" people, eating "happy" food and smoking "happy" cigarettes. I had a charming conversation with the rather "happy" Swede in the neighbouring bungalow one evening in which we talked about how the constellations here were apparently upside down, and how if after his night out he came home at 3am and burst into our bungalow butchering "She's Electric" by Oasis, I promised to only throw a plastic (not glass) bottle at his head.

The electricity on the island gets turned off at 10pm every night which was a delight, because it really maintained the ‘feeling groovy’ ambiance of the island (I has Simon & Garfunkel playing on my iPod). Personally, I had a great time in my hammock, reading my book, seeing the stars come out, overlooking the Mekong, and watching all the lights on the islands go out. The next day, we took a bike ride to Don Khon, swam in yet another waterfall and a spent a long afternoon in a "Hammock Lounge". We spent our last night in Laos on the West side of the island, chatting away for hours as we watched the sunset of a lifetime (told you Laos was big on sunsets).

Onwards to Cambodia our next stop was the ancient wonder of Siem Reap and the Angkor Temples. There are no words to describe the beauty of them, they are mystical and ancient and if you can find the spots that aren't wall-to-wall with tourists, you really do feel like you're stepping back in time.

The temples at Angkor are spread out over some 40 miles around the village of Siem Reap. The most famous temple is of course Angkor Wat, the largest religious monument in the world. A huge pyramid temple, it's surrounded by a moat nearly 100m wide and over 6kms in total circumference. It has amazing bas-reliefs, including a bas-relief mural on all four sides outside of the main courtyard, each 200m long!


We saw many more temples but the highlight was definitely Preah Palilay, a small temple away from the main track which had glowing silver trees around it and had such a feeling of peace. We also went to Ta Phrom which has the famous "Tomb Raider" tree that Angelina Jolie picks a Jasmine flower off. There was a huge queue of people wanting to take their photos with it, and we had to get one each too, just for fun!


We ended our first day's tour by watching the sunset from the best seat in the house (atop a pedestal on the edge of a tall temple) and hitting a funky little restaurant called "Deadfish" with its excellent Khmer/Thai menu, barn-like interior, psuedo-American motif, and complete with live crocodiles. Yee ha!


On our second day we explored some of the temples further away from the city. I had great fun running, jumping, climbing trees á la Indiana Jones at the ruins of Beng Melea. We also strolled the beautiful Bantei Srei which is made of pink sandstone and had most of the most intricate bas-reliefs I've ever seen. Continuing our mission to gorge on otherwise-unaffordable French cuisine and to leave no dessert unturned, we also went to the Red Piano bar at Brett's advice for a "Tomb Raider" cocktail and to farewell Siem Reap.

Finally, Phnom Penh was a city of such highs and lows. The Cambodians, like the Laotians, were warm and kind but also jumped at any chance to laugh (even at you) and have a good time. An amazing attitude when you think about the violent history of the country, and the resulting poverty means a huge reliance on foreign aid. Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge (KR) ruled Cambodia from 1975 to 1979 and killed nearly 2 million people. That’s over 20% of the population and they died of starvation, disease, torture, or execution. In 1978 Vietnam invaded Cambodia and eventually defeated Pol Pot but many years of war and political chaos still followed. A coalition government and a Senate were both established in 1998, but the KR leaders responsible for human rights abuses during their rule are yet to be brought to justice. Pol Pot and many other KR leaders have already passed away so will never be brought to justice, but I did read in the news last week that a tribunal has just been established and proceedings are under way.

We went to the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum (also known by its KR code name S-21) which was a harrowing experience but one you can't shy away from. Originally a school, the KR converted it to a prison for thousands of victims, of which all but seven died. The first rooms you enter were the torture chambers and in each one is a bed and a photo of what was found after the KR were defeated; you can't hold back tears when you walk into those rooms. They also had an exhibition of prisoner mug shots, which included children as young as two years old. The tiny wooden and brick cells are still there, previously classrooms but then divided into inhuman-sized holding spaces. As you walk around you can't help but imagine the ghosts of victims crammed into those tiny cells looking at you with wide empty eyes. According to traditional Cambodian beliefs, if a body is not properly buried the soul remains trapped, and I hope to whatever omnipresence exists out there that they would not be so cruel as to still not allow those souls to be free.

Having walked through the museum I walked out on shaky legs to the benches in the courtyard between the buildings. There were many people there, all feeling the same way. A man and his friend sat on the bench near me and they could find nothing to say to each other. I pulled out my notebook and started to write; they pulled out cigarettes and started to smoke. We were all trying to cope with what we had just witnessed.

Afterwards, the need to do something good and wholesome was paramount. Cambodia has many many aid organisations, and many shops are actually shop fronts for local and international NGOs. Made locally and often by the victims of the cause they are supporting, these shops selling goods to raise funds and awareness for issues such as child trafficking, sex slavery, gender equality, domestic violence, poverty, landmine victims, and HIV/AIDS. I donated to and bought items almost entirely from NGO shops, which I know is really nothing in the grand scheme of helping, but short of staying and volunteering in Cambodia (which I was close to doing) that was all I could do.

On a lighter note, there was so much beautiful colonial architecture in Phnom Penh to admire and we also visited the Royal National Museum and saw many of the pieces that had been removed from the Angkor temples for preservation and protection. It was a beautiful building and it was great to see the smaller treasures from temples we had been to (hint: if you ever go, see the temples first then go to Phnom Penh and see the museum. What you see means so much more that way).


But too soon it was time for us all to say goodbye. It was a sad farewell; we’d covered a lot of ground and shared so much (including a bathroom most of the time and since we all had various moments of Indochina ingestion issues. That really makes it a special kind of friendship). But reality called and we all regretfully went home, though I was in great spirits about it as I saw that Beijing was averaging 5 degrees ABOVE zero.


And one final note: if like me anyone has ever foolishly considered putting something delicate in their luggage, thinking “How much do the bags really get knocked around?”, think again. I was on the bus to shuttle us between the air plane and the terminus, watching the man unload the baggage from the belly of the plane. He pulled out golf clubs and, alarmingly, a dog carrier. Placing the golf clubs ON the poor dog, he started to pull out the backpacks and one fell out, ricocheting off the raised platform he was standing on before plunging to the tarmac below. You guessed it: it was mine...

Laos

Hammock swaying,
sun setting,
coffee sipping,
lull.

River floating,
cycle coasting,
feet resting,
mull.

Street strolling,
fruit peeling,
road rolling,
roam.

Temple trekking,
ruins climbing,
glasses clinking,
home.

Lazing in Laos

Photos

Back again from yet another exotic holiday (carpe diem!) tanned, relaxed and delighted to find that I only suffered a 30 degree drop in temperature upon my return, rather than a 45 degree drop. It's well and truly above zero in Beijing now, so I have officially survived the winter.

In three weeks I somehow managing to get the four visas I needed for my two week trip. The most expensive one was for Viet Nam , which was a particularly sore point because I was only there for 36 hours! So, my first stop was Viet Nam to meet up with my friend Yvonne and spend a day in Hanoi. She showed me her gorgeous house, I met her fantastic house mates, we ate the most divine French pastries, I drank the best coffee I'd had (to that point), and we sampled delicious Viet Namese cuisine. I do love Beijing but life in Hanoi was something I could definitely get used to!

We then both flew to Vientiane, the Laos capital, to joyfully reunite with our other friend, Nishara. Vientiane is a fantastic place to catch up with friends, previously being a French colony, the Laotians bake the most amazing bread and grow the most fantastic coffee. The recent explosion of tourists has created a niche for the many amazing cafes and fancy French restaurants. Most of them would not be out of place in New York or Paris which I really was not expecting in a country of less that 7 million people, where the GDP is a mere $2200 per person, and 30% of the population lives below the poverty line.

Laos is a very poor country with an estimated 40% of Lao GDP accounted for by foreign aid, so there was a relatively large expat population in country and the presence of international organisations such as the UNDP were noticeable. Though so recently open to the rest of the world, Laos seems to now be firmly on the tourist map; just about every second person I've spoken to has been to Laos and/or Cambodia. Having all happened so fast, most tourist facilities are brand new and are fantastically run. We had found nothing but warm welcomes and beyond-the-call-of duty helpfulness in every guesthouse and we stayed in.

The Laotians were so warm and hospitable, though shy in a way that the belies their relatively recent introduction to visitors. Unlike other countries (China will remain unnamed) there is no fear or mistrust of foreigners, simply a curiosity and a delight in learning about us. And the mood of the country is not just laid-back, it's laaaaaaid-baaaaack. It took me a week to unwind from Beijing-paced frantic-ness but I got there in the end and was limp as a rag doll in a hammock (which I often was) by the time we left.

In Vientiane we went to the War Memorial (described on the plaque as "monster of concrete"), and also the stunning Buddha Park which was full of rather unique Hindu and Buddhist statues. Most notable was definitely the large pumpkin shaped building filled with statues, which had a huge spike on top and a ferocious mouth for a door, giving you the impression of being swallowed into the belly of a beast. And my personal favourite, a statue of Buddha pulling off the leg of a giant, unprotesting cricket.

We then headed North to the stunning scenery of Luang Prabang, a UNESCO World-Heritage listed site. We took an over-night bus through the mountains, and sleeping through the journey was a very good idea I think. I woke up in the middle of the night and made the mistake of looking out the front window: the fog was thick as French Onion soup and the road was twisty and narrow. Unfortunately the video screen is small but if you want to see the video of it, it's here.

Arriving safe and sound, we went to huge waterfall (the first a dozen we were to see in Laos), but the highlight of our time there had to be our trip to the Elephant Park. With out lovely guide On, we cycled the 30kms round trip and I am proud to say that I kept up with him the whole way, and there were some very steep climbs! It was the first time I've ridden one but I'm now totally in love with mountain bikes and really want one. Next stop, cycling up Black Mountain!

As the name alludes, we went to the park for an elephant ride, which at first I was little apprehensive about. Parts of Asia have dubious attitudes to animal rights but we chose a park that label themselves as "Eco-tourism" and rescue elephants from logging companies. We were assured that the money goes back into the programme so our consciences allowed us to see Laos the way it should be seen: on the neck of an elephant, rambling along the Mekong River, sun shining from a bright blue sky and singing songs with the elephant handler.

The actual city of Luang Prabang is quite beautiful, with colonial architecture being scattered amongst the traditional style buildings. Built at the joining of the Khan and Mekong Rivers, the scenery is stunning, especially from the top of Mount Phosi where we went to watch a gorgeous sunset (the first of a dozen we were to see in Laos).

Our next stop was south to Pakse, where we went on a two day hike through National Protected Forests and coffee plantations to the Bolaven Plateau. Our guide, Sak, grew up on a coffee farm so taught us all there is to know about Laos coffee. And I thought the Viet Namese coffee was good... it had nothing on Laos coffee! Thick as molasses and so fresh, we all had caffeine buzzes like we'd never buzzed before. Fantastic. We saw more beautiful waterfalls and experienced life in a remote village, calling out to everyone we met. "Sabadee!" is the Laos word for hello, and it's one of the loveliest sounding greetings I've ever heard. Laos is a tonal language and there is a high rising inflection at the end, which makes it charming in a way I can't explain it in words.

But nowhere is immune to the horrors of development for long, and on the way back into the city after our hike we were greatly saddened to see a construction site that Sak told us was going to be a casino. At our horrified reactions, he asked us to explain what a casino was. We did, and we watched his face fall. "That's not good," he said gravely, "that is not a good thing." No, we agreed sombrely, it is not. I don't know why but I felt somewhat responsible for this monstrosity being built, like my presence there was part of the invasion of the outside world. It's a cliche but a poignant one: the sad irony that travellers coming to experience a country still true to itself and relatively unchanged by the outside world, brings the outside world in with it.

Next update continues with our journey further South through Laos and across to Cambodia and the wonder of Angkor Wat...

Harbin! (a.k.a. coldest place I've ever been)

Photos

My trip to Harbin was very spur of the moment, because we weren't sure we were going to be able to get tickets until the day before we left. As it was, we had to join a Chinese tour group (shudder) to get the tickets, and we consoled ourselves with the plan to ditch them as soon as we could. I'll leave out the details of the difficulties we had every step of the way with the tour company , but let's say that between making us pay for our freedom (to leave the organised tour), and telling us to be in the wrong place and making us wait two hours before telling us that, I realise now why everyone warned me on pain of death to avoid Chinese tours!

Harbin is a pretty special city. It was the birthplace of Jin (1115-1234) and Qing (1644-1911) Dynasties, and it's more recent history was a part of Russia until 1946 (and the occupied by the Japanese briefly too). Because it developed under the influence to two different cultures, Harbin is a beautiful juxtaposition of a city. The main street, Zhongyang Dajie, is a cobblestone lane lined with European style buildings, and you could be forgiven for thinking you were in Moscow (if you somehow didn't notice all the locals and signs in Chinese).

Tourist websites go on to say that "Harbin is favoured with beautiful natural scenery. Based on the meandering Songhua River and subject to severe low temperatures in winter, Harbin boasts a unique ice and snow culture. Each winter fantastic sculptures created from snow and ice, ice lanterns and exciting sporting events attract thousands of visitors from home and abroad."

And it does. The Ice Festival is famous (in China at the very least), and I think it is only the cold that stops it from one of the busiest tourist attractions in the country. We took the overnight train and when we looked out the window in the morning we got our first impression of what would be in store: the windows were so frosted up that we couldn't see anything. We stepped off the train and it actually hurt a little to breath. I had to make a phone call and the five minutes I had my glove off was enough for me to lose sensation in my pinkie (I had to keep squeezing it the rest of the day to ease the aching).

Now, I have to state right here that I'm no cold wuss. I love the cold, I'm the first person to take off my jacket when walking around, I happily walk home in minus 5 degrees, and I've been known to eat an ice cream while it's snowing around me. But this was COLD like I've never felt before. I was wearing four layers on top and bottom, a hat, gloves, two scarves and 3 pairs of socks. Thank god (and Cyril) for my Kazakh furry hat, it was a lifesaver. It was the only place on my body I didn't need more than one layer!

Anyway, the trip was well worth the cold. From the train we went to the main street and had breakfast in a gorgeous little Russian Cafe. There was a National Geographic film crew there so I couldn't get up and look at all the amazing memorabilia of Russian and Chinese history in Harbin. The show was being done by two brothers who grew up in China and had returned to document the changes it's gone through since opening up to the West. As we were "in the shot", we were asked to stay an extra few minutes after we'd eaten to keep continuity! So if anyone sees a doco called something like "Change in China" keep an eye out for four hungry looking Aussie girls in the background.

Exploring the main street, we looked at the ice sculptures running along it, checked out "Russian Products" tourist shop (p.s. Russian chocolate is nothing to write home about and please forgive the irony of that statement), looked at ads on billboards made entirely of ice, and bought more clothing to combat the cold.


We then went to the Songhua River which was so large and completely frozen I didn't actually realise it was a river at first. They had dog sledding (those poor poor puppies), ice skating, ice chairs (sounds odd, but good fun! Two people on stools with ski poles to propel you along was about where it's at), and a huge ice slide. The day progressed and we decided it was time to get to the Ice Festival on the other side of the river, and despite claims that we couldn't walk it ("So you must come and take our horse carriages!") we got the most amazing sunset views of Harbin as we trekked across. I've never been in real snow and now I see why everyone loves it. My Chinese name means "beautiful snow" so it was nice to actually have first hand experience with it!

We also pulled out "Frank" for a few photo opportunities. For my October trip to Ningxia I bought a down jacket and it came with a fur trim. At the time I figured it was fake so didn't think anything of it but upon Charlotte's inspection of said trim, I could no longer plead ignorance (I mean, it's China! The land of the fake merchandise!). She told me it was probably rabbit but I'd already bought it so what could I do? I called him Frank and he came out and played in the snow with us!

As the sun dropped so did the temperature and we now rather hurriedly got to the other side. As it turned out we were in the wrong place but a quick van ride rectified that, and we arrived at the Ice Festival at the perfect time. They were just turning on the lights in the "sculptures" and I got some gorgeous shots with the dusky backdrop. "Sculptures" isn't an adequate word by any means, these were ice buildings! It had an Olympic theme so among other things, there was a mini Acropolis and a nearly full sized train station (well, that's what it looked like). We literally had to jog between "sculptures" to keep warm and take shelter indoors fairly frequently but it was a stunning display and they even had ice bikes (again, sounds odd but not as deadly as you'd think).

We did really well I think, and managed to stay for an hour or two before the cold drove us away to a nice hot dinner. And we burst into that restaurant like ravenous wolves! A local speciality is a kind of crepe that you almost a burrito out of, with a variety of fillings and god I didn't know I could fit so much food into my body. That kind of cold burns calories like they're going out of fashion so we basically didn't stop eating the whole two days we were in Harbin.

After dinner we went back to "Ice Bar" for a drink. Like everything else in Harbin (construction must be so cheap there), the whole building was made of ice, right down to the shot glass I drank my Russian vodka out of. More disturbing was the dead animal motif, complete with dog skins on the ice walls and on each ice table. The ice benches had fur bits and pieces on them which barely stopped the cold and just made you feel horribly unnerved, like you were sitting on someone's pet rabbit.

Sunday we rejoined the tour to the snow fields of Yabuli for a few hours of skiing. Our tour guide was told we weren't joining them until the day after so we had to sit in the second most uncomfortable seat I've had to endure for the two and half hour trip. The most uncomfortable seat ever was on the way back, when I had the seat at the front that not only sloped left but completely lacked leg room. Well, whatever doesn't kill you, as they say. And I'm developing the very valuable talent of being able to snooze anywhere, even half falling off my chair into a large furred man, with my knees tucked under my chin.

Skiing was great fun, and considering it was the first time I've ever touched skis, I'm very proud that I didn't fall on my arse (not til later anyway). I only went a little way up the "bunny" slope and barely managed to maintain control while going over the large ice patches that littered the slope but it was enough of a taste to whet my appetite. There was also an ice slide which was great fun, even when I was ploughed into by a mum and her two boys on their snow tube cause I stopped halfway and couldn't get out of the way! I don't know who was laughing harder, them or me. But when I got up to give them a push and fell rather spectacularly (cartoon slipping-on-a-banana-skin kind of spectacular), I knew from the boys' screams of laughter that I had made their day!

And through my own laughter I looked up to see Charlotte and Marialice, not only laughing their arses off, but capturing the moment for prosperity. Compassion, that's what I love about those girls...

Seeing in the New Year, in style!

Photos

After Malaysia, I only had a few more days in Singapore. The holiday was nearly over but there was still so much left to do! For example, a trip to Singapore isn't complete without several trips to Orchard Road. Originally home to nutmeg and pepper plantations, as well as the occasional flooding and tiger mauling, these days Orchard road houses the likes of Tiffany's, Jean-Paul Gautier, Louis Vitton, Prada, Versace, Fendi, Gucci and YSL. It was all a little out of my price range, though I was excited enough to see The Body Shop! I swore not to do any shopping while in Singapore, but the lure of being able to find shoes that fit was too great: I actually bought two pairs of shoes on my first day (Mum, you'd be proud!).

Still stuffed from my weeks of eating myself into a stupor, one morning Aunty Sophia took me for breakfast of prata in the Tekka Centre in Little India. Little India is amazing, full of North and South Indian restaurants, vegetarian restaurants, sweet shops and clothings stalls. We looked at the oldest Hindu temple in Singapore; the stunning Sri Mariammen Temple with its distinctive South Indian Dravidian style gopuram (tower).

Arab Street was equally beautiful, with a plethora of mosques, hostels and shops. I bought some gorgeous material for a dress, presents for my girls, and despite the delicious smells wafting up and down the streets from the many restaurants, I still couldn't face eating anything. In the afternoon I was treated to visit to an amazing spa (thanks Jules!). I was covered in seaweed, wrapped in cling wrap, and bundled into an electric blanket. I nearly drifted off to sleep a few times but the smell of the seaweed was potent enough to snap me back. But it felt so good when I washed it off and the massage that followed was close to heaven.

My final full day in Singapore was spent hitting the city's oldest Kopitiam (Coffee shop) in town, the Killiney Kopitiam. I had the traditional Singapore breakfast of Kopi-C (strong coffee with milk but no sugar) with Kaya toast (toast with coconut jam) and a soft boiled egg. Delicious, and it gave the energy to visit one last Singapore institution, Sentosa Island. In the 1800s it was a military fortress but now it's a holiday resort. Garish, tacky, but it has the most popular beaches in Singapore (complete with imported in white sand).

There are several ways to get to Sentosa Island, and I took the cable car firstly up to Mt Faber to see the bird's eye view of Singapore, then down to the island. On the cable car I met Anne and Lara, a mother and daughter from the Ukraine on their first trip to Asia. Anne was lovely to chat with, interested in the places I had been and where I was from. She also (sometimes a little embarrassedly) translated for her mother, who was particularly fascinated with me, looking at me like she was a little unsure of me. I got the typical "You are alone?(!)" but more than that, Lara wondered if my partner "minded" me going by myself alone. I answered truthfully, that I don't have a partner, but also that I didn't need permission from anyone. She then gave me a look I'd come to recognise very well during my trip as I'd seen it so many times: one part (almost reluctant) admiration, two parts concern for my well-being, with just a hint of "Are you MAD?"

Stepping off the Cable Car, I had my final photo opportunity with Mr Bean, an albino Tree Python. He was awesome, not as heavy as I thought he'd be, and kept trying to get away from me (typical male). I then visited the Butterfly Park with butterflies the size of my palm, and Underwater World with a collection so amazing it would make any aquarist heady with delight. They had giant Japanese crabs the size of dogs! Sentosa Island had hosted a huge New Year's Eve party the night before and the stage was still there that afternoon so the "beach" was rather reduced.

And speaking of my New Year, I saved the best tale for last. On New Years Eve, Aunty Sophia kindly invited me to join her and her friends at the Conrad for dinner. Afterwards, I had decided I would make my way to Raffles Hotel to see in the New Year with a Singapore Sling in it's birthplace. The dinner was lovely (a massive seven courses) and at 11pm I thanked everyone for hosting me and that I was on my way into the city. The husband of one of Aunty Sophia's friends, Uncle Raymond, kindly offered me a lift as he was driving into the city for a work party. Brilliant, I thought, as I knew it would be hard getting a taxi and that traffic would be mad. And this way, I thought, I have time to really enjoy the one Singapore Sling I would have (as I knew drinks prices would be hugely over-inflated).

So, thanks to Mio's fantastic fashion sense I was dressed to the nines and as we waited for the valet to get Uncle Raymond's car, I admired all the other schmick outfits and fancy cars of the hotel's patrons. The valet handed Raymond his keys, and he hopped into the car ready to go.

I, on the other hand, had stopped dead when I realised I was going to be driven to the Raffles Hotel on New Year's Eve in nothing less than (no joke) a brand new sleek grey Porsche Cayman.

Well, I certainly arrived in style! And I've never even touched a Porsche before! The doorman leapt to action when we pulled up, and I know that I'm no one really but I felt like a bit of celeb stepping out of that car (well, hauling myself out of the car, it's very low to the ground and I was wearing heels. But I hauled myself out quite elegantly I think). Thanking Uncle Raymond profusely for the lift, I made my way upstairs to the Long Bar, ordered my Singapore Sling, joined in the party, and it truly was a New Year's to remember.