I really learned this lesson during a recent trip to Beijing. It was a weekend, and all the hostels were sold out so we were stuck staying at a low-end business hotel. You know, a sketchy place with smoke scented rugs; scuffed, cheap wood side tables; and a pile of prostitute cards at the door. Yes, that’s right, prostitute cards.

The size of business cards, with glossy full color pictures of “sexy” girls (some look like they were taken from a shoe catalog or something); these prostitute cards, or PC as I will refer to them from here on out, turned out to be good for a few minutes of laughing. With my poor Chinese I could read a few of the attributes of the ladies listed on the cards: campus beauty, movie stars, beautiful girls. I even busted out my dictionary to learn some new words like, grand (高贵) and elegant (典雅).

But one word left me stumped. It was on almost every single card and was 白领, which my dictionary translated as white neck. I was quite curious about this word. I mean, I’ve read Memoirs of a Geisha, so I know that a sexy white neck drives men wild in Japan, but China? I’ve never heard of it. So why was it on every single card? Obviously there was something lost in translation.

So we collected the cards and brought them all home with us. We ended up with a stack because every day we would get about 8-10, and we stayed for 3 nights. After our first day we wondered who the PC fairy was that delivered the cards. My husband thought maybe it was the girls as they left from a job, I guessed it was a big fat, chain smoking madam. We later learned we were both wrong as we got back early one night right as the prostitute fairy was delivering the cards. It was a few teen boys smoking, chatting and sliding them under the door.

So when I got home I showed the PC’s to my Chinese friend and asked him what it meant. Turns out white neck really means white collar. Like, the girls weren’t sex slaves working in an unjust system, but were white collar workers sitting behind a desk at a big corporation during the day and ho’ing around at night for the fun of it. (“But I don’t think that’s true,” my friend said.)

My friend also pointed out another interesting feature, something else I was unable to read. Some of the cards said that they could provide legitimate receipts for the gov’t and corporate workers so the businessman could get reimbursed. I guess the average cash stipend doesn’t cover a little late night nookie delivery?

Just so you know, prostitution is technically illegal in China. It’s not Vegas over here or anything, but it is an open secret that in business hotels there are girls at your beck and call. In fact another hotel we stayed at, also for businessmen and tourists, we received a call late one night. I couldn’t understand the speaker, but I know it wasn’t room service asking if we wanted fresh towels at 11pm.

But I have to thank those ladies and their calling cards. I learned some new words, a little bit of culture and really, what more could you ask for in a day? The benefit of full immersion leaning is even a prostitute can be your teacher.

But nowadays it is just as common to see an old couple, or a family of six, holding a Lonely Planet guidebook as it is to see a young backpacker. In my years of traveling around China I’ve seen people clutching it in their sweaty hands at the top of mountains, and primed polished fingernails searching through the hundreds of pages to find the certain little write-up to share with their tour group. (Here’s a hint people: Just tear the pages you need out and leave the book back at the hostel. No sense adding 100 pounds to your day unnecessarily.)

The latest edition of Lonely Planet China hit the shelves this summer, a fact you might not have noticed if you actually live in China. That’s because despite the plethora of stores selling LP guides, the China one is hard to come by. LP’s official stance is that Taiwan is not part of the motherland, and so the book is effectively “banned.” I searched all over Beijing to no avail, but one bookstore clerk told me you could buy it in Shanghai but you had to ask for it by name as it was hidden behind the counter. How cloak and dagger!

So, is the newest edition (the 12th) worth the hassle of trying to get it? Should you even bother? Let’s take a closer look and compare the two.

Font

Remember the blue-hairs I mentioned before? Well, LP is clearly beginning to market to them. The most noticeable difference in the new edition is the use of bigger fonts, and a small splash of color (blue) throughout. This makes the whole thing a lot more readable. They’ve also added icons throughout (like a little stick person sleeping at the accommodation section and a fork and knife at the restaurant part) which also improves the ability to find things quicker. There are even little money icons next to the hotel and food places so you can quickly see the price differences between them.

All of the changes, especially the blue color, really do make it much easier, but it also slightly cheapens it in my eyes. Like, the teeny tiny black and white print made it a little grittier before, and suddenly I feel like I’m walking around with a copy of Fodor’s or heaven forbid Frommer’s.

Winner: The 12th edition. It might make me feel old, but the readability is much improved.

Chinese Characters

The first thing I noticed when I cracked open my new LP China was to recheck the cover a few time. This was Lonely Planet China, right? Well, where the hell did all the Chinese go?! Previously, the characters for every province and city were all over the place: on the intro page for each province, on the top of each map, and every map key. That has gone bye-bye. Now it is all just crisp clean English.

I can’t even begin to understand this change. Why, in all places, would they take away the characters on the map key? To save space? To make the book look neater? Oh sure, you can still find the name of each place in Chinese under the listing within each chapter, (and the hotels still have the address in pinyin and characters) but the handy dandy, all-in-one English/Hanzi name spot is gone. Not happy.

Winner: 11th edition. As anyone who has traveled in China knows, you can never have too many characters. More is always better.

Maps

And one further word on maps. I know, I know, maps are the Achilles heel of LP, with them becoming obsolete almost immediately upon printing (yes people, China does change that fast. Also, LP does tend to make a lot of mistakes in that department.) But I’m a map person, and I don’t feel settled unless I know the layout of a city. I’m also cheap and don’t want to spend 10 kuai on some silly oversized map for every town I go to. So I use the LP maps, and I use them often.

The maps in the new edition seem quite nice. The clearer font and the blue color definitely add a little sparkle. (The lakes are actually blue now, not just dull grey!) The change I don’t like is the new map layout. Before, the maps were grouped together at the beginning of every city and town. Now they are more spread out throughout the section.

For instance, in the last edition the maps to Beijing were on pages 122-129. Easy peasy. In the new edition they are spread all over the place. It starts on pages 44-45, then you have to flip to page 48-49 for the next, then 66, and the final map is on page 74. Not a big deal, but kind of annoying, especially if you are planning on walking a long distance and your route cover 2 or 3 of the maps. You could get carpel tunnel from flipping the pages back and forth.

Winner: A begrudging win to the 12th edition. I might not like the new page disbursement, but the new maps are easier to read.

Attractions, Restaurants and Hotels

The actual listing and information in the book hasn’t changed much. In fact, for many of the attractions the wording is identical from the last edition. But the practical information, such as price and hours, has been updated. There are of course new listings under the restaurant, entertainment and hotel sections reflecting the constant business changes.

The thing that bothered me was the hotels. LP used to be the budget traveler book, but that is clearly changing in this edition. Oh sure, they still list hostels, but the amount of high-end hotels they have added is a little staggering. And not just added, but flaunting. You know how LP always has the ‘our pick’ which was the coziest/cleanest/most fun hostel? Well, the ‘our pick’ (which has now changed to ‘top choice’) tends to be crazy expensive hotels. For instance in Hong Kong the ‘top choice’ hotels range from HK$1500-6800 ($192-$872). Yikes!

I tend not to use LP for hostels anyway. I find sites like hostelbookers.com to be much more up to date and reliable. But I’m disappointed in this change, which is more than just an “update” change, but clearly a new company policy.

Winner: 11th edition since most of the information is the same, and I’m angry about the high end hotels.

Other Information

All the other things seem pretty much standard to your lonely planet book. The history section, the travel resources, the language pages and the A-Z directory all seem the same as in the past. There are some nice new features–like photo-heavy full-color sections of top experiences and places–which is nice, but the old edition had that too, just different places.

Winner: Draw. It’s basically the same information in both editions, presented in a very similar way.

And the Winner is…

So, which is better, the new edition or the old one? Clearly the winner is … does it even matter? I mean really, it’s a travel book, not some great work of literature in which the earlier editions are worth more. Things change, and you should get the new book so you can be just that much more prepared. Let’s face it, traveling in China is tough, even if you are an old grizzled expat with fluency in Mandarin as well as 12 different dialects. So why make it harder on yourself? Just get the new edition already!

Have you used the new Lonely Planet? If so, we’d love to hear what you think about some of the travel guide’s new features in the comments below.

Tickets to 八所 (a town I’d never heard of) in hand, we decided to buy a map of 海南 and see where we were going. It was on the coast! Excellent. There seemed to be some tourist attractions nearby as well. A hot springs, which I nixed as I had an ear infection, was forbidden to swim, and had not brought a bathing suit. There was also this place called 万人坑. Ten-thousand person…check dictionary…hole? with no idea what that meant, it was close to the ocean and we’d see if we could find it!

As we rode the bus through the evening one of my travelling companions got a text from a friend in Beijing. It was one of those mass holiday texts that people send out to everyone in their phones this time of year. She read through it and then, somewhat shocked, translated it to English for us: “This year we have three holidays: Teachers Day is the 10th, thank you to the teachers! 911 is the 11th, thank you to Bin Laden! Mooncake day is the 12th, thank you to Chang’E and Hou Yi!” I wondered aloud if he realized he was sending that text to an American, and she just shook her head and shrugged.

Soon we’d arrived and after checking in at the third hotel (the first two were small and made excuses — the tv is broken… there is no air-con… the fan doesn’t work — until we got the hint that they didn’t want to deal with foreigners and moved on) and got some sleep. In the morning, after a failed attempt to drink locally brewed Hainan coffee, we pulled out our map and started asking around about places to visit. We met a very nice older man who told us 万人坑 was just up the road and we could take a 三轮车 (like a tuk-tuk) there, and it shouldn’t cost more than 4-5 yuan. Since we’d already had an incident with a  三轮车 who wanted to charge us 10 yuan for a fairly short trip, and when we disagreed she said the higher price was because we were foreign, we figured if it was that close we might as well just walk.

We’d walked only about three or four minutes when the nice older man caught up to us on his bike. He explained he didn’t have to go to work (as a security guard at a resort) for another half hour, and he might as well show us the way! Good thing he did, too. The way meandered for 20 more minutes over a mud track through a village. We chatted and enjoyed getting to know him. He was a retired teacher. He either taught English or music, but it was hard to tell through his thick Hainan accent which it had been. We decided it must have been music, since the only English he’d attempted with us thus far had been an emphatic THANK YOU! in response to our profuse 谢谢‘s. We laughed and joked with him as we walked down the path.

Finally we came to the 万人坑. I wandered ahead, picking my way over the sandy soil and carefully around the abundant cacti towards the concrete spire, while the others stopped to read the sign at the entrance. Just as I was about to climb the stairs to the platform, they called out a warning. “It’s a mass grave!” Yeah. Ten-thousand person grave. More somber now, we stood on the platform together to read the inscription. It was long, and our helpful new friend kept standing in front of the bits we were reading to point out other bits of the text and explain more about what it said.

The grave turned out to contain conscripts from all over south China who’d been forced to work in Hainan during what the Chinese call the War of Japanese Agression and we call World War II; mining, building roads, laying rail lines, refining salt. They’d been worked to death and buried here, under our feet. Were there really 10,000? It was hard to know and even the numbers on the inscription seemed to conflict with each other. Was it appropriate to visit a Chinese mass grave on the anniversary of the worst terrorist attack in American history? At the time it felt uncomfortable. We’d come out, happy with our adventure, having no idea where we were going. Our guide had known. He didn’t seem to take offense at our high spirits or curiosity. Should we be thinking about these Chinese victims when every other American was thinking about OUR victims? What would our friends and families back home think?

I feel so disconnected from America these days, anyway. I haven’t lived there since January of 2005. I miss certain people, of course. And while occasionally I get a craving for a Bloomin’ Onion or an original glazed Krispy Kreme doughnut, my life is here in China. It feels right to me to be standing here, speaking Chinese with this old man and learning the history of the locality.

China is my home now. I’ve had many homes before (I’d lived in three countries by the time I was five) and I don’t think of it as losing the homes I’ve had before, but gaining more with each new home I have. I have Hainan in my heart, now. I mourn with them their tragedies, the 2008 Sichuan earthquake and the unknown numbers in the grave in Basuo. I have Chicago in my heart and I remember being there on that day, in 2001. I remember how every yard and window sprouted patriotic displays that fall and winter until it seemed that instead of Christmas in July we had Independence Day in December. I have Japan in my heart too, hard as it is for my friends here in China to understand. I mourn with them the losses of the earthquake and tsunami. It seems like it only just happened, not six months ago already.

I hope my American friends can understand that I don’t stand with them any less if I also stand with new friends in China on this day. I wonder if more of us Americans stood with people of other lands and felt their losses with our own, if more understanding could lead to fewer of those losses one day.

Some Gems:
“Chinese people need to learn brains.”
“It’s 2011. Chairman Mao is dead.”

And the kicker:
“See, I’m Canadian, I don’t have to shut up. Chinese people have to shut up. Canada people [sic] don’t have to shut up.”

Couldn’t be prouder to be a Canadian [shakes head]. Granted, I’ve no idea what happened before the video started capturing the argument, but JTFC that b’ys gone off, eh!?

I feel for the guy though. Obviously not for what he’s saying, that’s complete douchebag material. But I think most expats in China have felt that level of frustration at some point. The only two differences being that most of us a. didn’t lose it, and b. didn’t lose it with someone’s video phone rolling.

(h/t to Chengdoo on the Hao Hao Report)

Maybe this is only true for me, but when I first arrived in China I was fascinated with everything. I sucked it all in like a sponge. Every discarded baijiu bottle, weathered shoe repair person, steamy baozi vendor… it was all so noticeable. But after a time these things, and the millions of others of still frames that blur together to form a tapestry of modern China, began to blend into the background as I just got on with living. I shifted from being a curious tourist to a preoccupied resident.

Which is why I’m grateful for having caught Last Train Home, a documentary by Chinese-Canadian filmmaker Fan Lixin, as it re-humanized the mass of strangers just off the edge of my doorstep.

Over the course of several years, the documentary follows a family led by migrant working parents, chronicling the myriad of challenges they face. Far from their small rural town in Sichuan, the parents have worked in in Guangzhou factories for nearly two decades. The couple’s two children have been raised by the children’s grandmother, only seeing their parents once a year at Spring Festival.

The film takes its name from the chaotic 1,000+ km convoluted and crowded journey home that the parents make each year for the Chinese New Year, getting quite literal at points when the parents very nearly aren’t able to find tickets at China’s busiest time of year.

Last Train Home Trailer

On Youku too.

One of the central points of the story is the conflict between the parents and their oldest child, a daughter of 16 or 17. They want her to appreciate how hard they have worked for her to have a better life. Against their wishes she ditches school for the allure of making her own money and living her own life.

And it’s in that where I find the most common ground with the subjects of the film. The story is used as an example of how the hardships of the parents have torn apart the family and led the girl astray. The documentary does a good job of framing it in typical “traditional Chinese” terms, with the girl portrayed as foolish, ungrateful and unfilial. However, what struck me was how incredibly normal the behavior seemed. It was exactly what you would expect from a teenager. Pushed a little far, perhaps, but on par with the climate she was living in.

At times bone-cuttingly honest, Last Train Home is a unique opportunity for outsiders to get a glimpse of the hardships and tough decisions many, if not most, Chinese face. With so many headlines about China’s accession into development and prosperity, this film does well to remind on whose backs the country is rising.

But more than that, I felt it did an effective job of nailing one more plank on the bridge between “us” and “them.” Despite the disparate level of adversity between their lives and mine, despite all the culture differences we’re subtly taught differentiate us to the point of no recognition, I saw myself in these people. I saw the daughter’s actions in my past and the parents’ dilemmas in my present and future.

In October of 2010, I was invited to take a welcome break from my life on the hamster wheel that is Shanghai, and visit Jinhua’s famous Taoist temple and caves. I was very excited by this invitation, partly because of my interest in Taoism and its place in Chinese culture, and partly because I had been invited by my new friend Kathy; a US-educated professor of Biochemistry, Taoist, and my guide to the considerable development of Taoist activity in and around Jinhua.

Meeting a dream butterfly

“This is Meng Die,” my friend Kathy told me. Meng Die was a slight woman in her thirties, dressed in the simple robes of a daoist acolyte. She had a ready smile, and a strong Beijing lilt that to me sounded out of place on this secluded bamboo-clad mountainside in Zhejiang province.

Over the best tea I have ever tasted (Da Hong Pao, no less!), we learned that Meng Die had been a Taoist for many years, and a disciple of the renowned Master Wang Liping. Until last month, she had been working as a yoga teacher in Beijing, when she made the decision to leave it all behind, and move to a small cottage in the mountains of Jinhua to cultivate herself full-time. Now she spends her days reading Taoist books, meditating, guiding tourists, and teaching ‘Taoism classes’ once a week in the town at the bottom of the mountain.

From left to right: the author, Kathy, and Meng Die

Meng Die is not her birth name. It means ‘Dream Butterfly’, and she chose it because the famous Taoist philosopher Zhuangzi (circa 400 BC) once had a dream in which he turned into a butterfly. When he awoke he was unsure if he had been dreaming he was a butterfly, or whether he was a butterfly who had been dreaming it was Zhuangzi.

Meditation in caves

A three minute walk from Meng Die’s little abode was a cave entrance. The sign read ‘Chao Zhen Dong’ – Towards the Truth Cave. I was told that Taoists had been using the cave for thousands of years to meditate and cultivate themselves in seclusion. Apparently Taoists choose these isolated mountain locations very carefully, as the geographical location has an impact on the result of the meditation. I asked why, and my (Taoist) guide said that Taoist alchemy, or transformative self-cultivation, works in accordance with the energy meridians of the body, that are so important in TCM.

But energy meridians are not merely confined to human bodies, say the Taoists. The Earth itself has locations which are on energy meridians, and these are the best places to practice Taoist alchemy. All the self-cultivation in the world will not yield the maximum results unless you are in the right spot. Old pre-Christian belief systems in my native Britain also refer to ‘Ley Lines’ – energy meridians which are found in certain locations, and had mystic significance attached to them.

Once inside the cave, it stretched back almost a hundred meters. There were little narrow channels which could be squeezed through to get to other chambers, and a substantial population of bats, whom we smelled first, and then saw hanging upside down from the ceiling in one of the higher vaulted chambers.

Which cave contains frogs, ham, immortal curtains, and the largest cave waterfall in China?

Our next stop was the big sister of Towards the Truth Cave. Shuang Long Dong, or Double Dragon Cave, is the main attraction for tourists here. It is much larger, and more glam too, having coloured neon lights at strategic points to highlight some of the formations caused by thousands of years of mineral-saturated water dripping down through the roof of the cave. They were worth highlighting too, as the shapes they make are varied and bizarre, and have been named accordingly, such as The Frog Who Steals Heavenly Grass (naughty frog!), The Ham, and The Immortals Curtain.

We continued into the cool, dripping interior of the cave towards the sound of pounding water. The final chamber, which is called Ice Pot Cave, contains a raucous waterfall that gushes out of the rock at the top of the chamber and falls 26 metres down into a natural underground pool. This is the largest cave waterfall in China.

Priest Yu and his project

From the right: Priest Yu, Kathy, Me and Jason.

After leaving the caves, and visiting the nearby Jinhua Taoist Temple, we drove down the mountain, until we pulled up outside a small temple nestled in front of some modern single-storey housing in a pleasant rural setting. Dogs ran out to greet our car, followed by an old man in Taoist robes, and his long hair piled up in a bun, skewered by a long pin.

The old man took us to meet Priest Yu, a young man with a ready smile and a dignity that seemed beyond his years, who seemed to be in charge. If the first temple was small, the one currently under construction made up for it. The skeleton of the building was already in place, consisting of huge timbers –- the largest I have ever seen — joined at right angles. I was told the framework for the temple would be all timber — no steel or concrete.

The timber frame of a new Taoist centre under construction near Jinhua

I asked what the plan was that required such a impressive feat of engineering with timber only. Apparently it will become a Taoist centre to help bring Taoism to the local, and wider, community. Activities, and workshops in meditation, would be made available to residents and visitors, thus bringing Taoism into the lives of non-taoists. Funding for the project was coming largely from donations, which are evidently pretty substantial. It seems the land is being donated by the local government.

The re-emergence of Taoism?

Taoism certainly seems to be experiencing a renaissance in the scope of it’s activities. In Hubei Province, Zhong Yun Long heads up the Wudang Taoist Association which has hundreds of registered priests and nuns, and a college for teaching Taoist arts like Qi Gong, Taiji, and traditional Taoist music. Through tourism, Taoist culture in Wudang Mountain has become one of the main sources of income for the town of Shiyan, Hubei Province.

In Zhejiang, Jinhua Temple is frequented by both tourists, and young Taoists seeking ‘The Way’, as is it’s sister temple in Hong Kong. Based in Shandong Province, Master Wang Liping, author of “Opening The Dragon Gate: The Making of a modern Taoist“, publicly teaches the ‘internal alchemy’ techniques he apparently learned over many years of study under three Taoist hermits. Master Wang’s students are numerous and come from many countries, including: the US, Germany, and Russia.

Both in Jinhua and Wudang, the promotion of Taoist culture is aimed at local and international audiences, is well funded, and has the support of local government. It appears to be engaging people at the  grass roots level, while clearly being in contact with the upper echelons (our guide in Double Dragon Cave was both a Taoist, and a PLA general). Is this more marketing of packaged ‘Ancient Chinese Culture’ a la Shaolin Temple? Or are we seeing a renaissance of Chinas oldest organized belief system, which has in the past exerted enormous influence over both Chinese society and its rulers?

A quick guide to Taoism:

What is Taoism?

As the pre-eminent, and as far as I know only, meta-physical religion to originate in China, Taoism by its nature tends to defy definition in conventional terms. This is made clear in the opening sentence of the Daode Jing, the most influential Taoist text, which says: “Dao can be spoken of, but it is not the constant Dao.”

Accepting the short-comings of any definition I might offer, I will venture to say that Taoism is a belief system that directs its followers to seek an understanding of their place in the harmony of nature. It advocates a path of self cultivation and transformation to a higher state of understanding.

The development of Taoism in ancient China

The Daode Jing was written around the 4^th century BC, at a time when there was not any formal Taoist organization or institutions, as far as is known. It wasn’t until the 2^nd century AD that Zhang Daoling established ‘The Way of The Celestial Masters’ – a lineage of Taoist teachings and practice which Taoist priests today claim as their heritage.

From the 2^nd to the 7^th centuries AD, Taoist rituals and literature developed and became known as an institutionalized belief system, which exerted considerable influence. The high political profile of Taoism in this period meant it held precedence over Buddhism, which had been brought to China by missionaries from India and Tibet; although Buddhist ideas and practices were absorbed into Taoism.

During this period royal advisors would often be respected Taoist adepts, and government ministers were known to retire into contemplative seclusion in Taoist monasteries. According to legend, one such seeker of ‘Dao’, or ‘The Way’ was Xuan Wu, a prince, who retreated to the holy Wudang Mountains in Hubei Province. After 42 years of self-cultivation he became an ‘immortal’, and today is one of the principle deities in Taoist lore, also known as Zhenwu Da Di (True Warrior Grand Emperor).

Around 600 years ago, after claiming Zhenwu’s help in winning out over his rivals to ascend the throne, the third Ming Emperor Zhu Li actively encouraged recognition and development of Taoism in his Kingdom. The magnificent and unique temples and architecture at Wudang Mountain perhaps best represent Zhu Li’s efforts.

Taoism in the modern era

The period 1949 to 1980 was not kind to the institutions of Taoism that had developed over the millennia. The overt practice of Taoism was banned outright, and many temples were destroyed. However, in 1980 Taoism ceased to be an illegal practice, and since then Taoists in and outside of China have been working to re-establish their traditions.

A little over a year ago I wrote a post detailing Pingyao, Xiahe, Tongren, Macau, Louyang, Emei Shan, Chongqing, Kashgar, Turpan, and Xishuangbanna as ten places to go to escape the Laowai tourist trail. Today, I’m going to add seven more locations to that list.

Rocky Shores and Sacred Temples of Putoshan

Putoshan, Zhejiang - Joining Emei Shan, Jiuhua Shan, and Wutai Shan as the four Holy Buddhist Mountains in thiscountry. Putoshan is not as tall or as striking as its peers, but it makes up for it in atmosphere. Located on an island just off the coast of Ningbo is this incredibly relaxing place. It is perfect to stroll around by the windy, rocky shores, and hike around some great temples. It reminded me a lot of Nova Scotia, but with more incense.

Glen Recommends – Head to Shanghai for two to three days, then take the bus or train to Hangzhou for another two, take the bus and ferry to Putoshan for the last three days to effectively unwind.

Shaolin Temple, Dengfeng, Henan – Sure you’re probably all “templed out” after spending a bit of time in China, but the birthplace of Kung Fu deserves a trip. It is set in the beautiful Songshan Mountain ranges, and full of live martial arts demonstrations. The coolest part is wandering through the area for all of the young monks training. Apparently there are martial arts classes you can take there as well.

Glen Recommends – Xi’an for a few days, bus/train to Luoyang for a few more, bus to Shaolin Temple, bus to Zhengzhou to fly or train back.

Kharakoram Pass, Xinjiang – I can not possibly recommend this enough.  The highway connecting Kashgar to Pakistan is simply the mos stunning bit of scenery I have ever seen. My biggest travel regret is not spending more of my time on this road. I would have loved to go all the way into Pakistan, but if that’s not possible, there is plenty to see on the way.

Glen Recommends - Two full days in Kashgar (one of which simply must be a Sunday), then at least two days on the Khartoum pass. I only made it as far as Karakul, but I wish I had continued at least to Tashkurgan, if not further.

798 Art District, Beijing – Have an extra day to kill in the Capital after you exhausted The Great Wall, The Forbidden

Now where did I put my shirt made of bricks? - 798 Beijing

City, and Tienanmen Square? Then this is the place for you!  The newly redone modern art area in Dashanzai district is well worth the trip. Several old factories have been redone and turned into a very trendy, avant-guard art space that you wouldn’t expect to see in a conservative place like China. There are a ton of very large, very strange exhibits that can showcase a side of contemporary China that you may not have known existed.

Glen Recommends- Set aside at least half a day of a trip to Beijing to head out here, you certainly won’t be disappointed.

INTERMISSION/DISCLAIMER: A reminder that this list was made by one person (me) and I only have limited time/money so there are a ton of places that I haven’t been to but are high on my to-go list and hope to have on the next list I make. That list includes (but is not limited to): Jiuzhaigoa, Xiamen, Fenghuang, Wutai Shan, Dunhuang, Kaifeng, and anywhere North of Beijing.

And obviously nowhere here is truly “Off the Beaten Path” thus the inclusion of the word “Slightly” in the title. It is a country with over a billion inhabitants, who all love to travel. You are bound to see people everywhere you go, unless you head way out into the wilderness, and I’m not quite brave enough to do that just yet.

And now back to our regularly scheduled blogging…

Victim of the Cultural Revolution - Xizhou, Yunnan

Xizhou, Yunnan – I know that the area around Dali is covered with more cool stuff than you could possibly fit into a week long holiday, but Xizhou is well worth your time. This cool old town hasn’t yet undergone the “cute little town” development that has struck other similar places around this country. This is especially noticeable that there are still broken statues and scratched out paintings from the Cultural Revolution everywhere.  It is easily doable as a day trip from Dali, but I bet it would be cool to stay there (note: I didn’t). There are tour guides in this city and in Dali that can take you around and into some of the great old houses that are around there.

Glen Recommends - Dali is worth at least 3 days of any holiday, which would include a jaunt up to Xizhou (it’s on the way to Shaping Market), from there go anywhere else in Yunnan, it’s all awesome.

Nanjing, Jiangsu – Sure it’s a big city that we’ve all heard of, but how many laowais actually go there? It seems to be neglected when people do the Shanghai-Suzhou-Hangzhou loop, which really is unfair. Obviously the must-visit attraction is the Nanjing Massacre Memorial Hall. It is an incredibly well done museum with a lot of information, it goes over the top a few times (the cheesy music in the mass grave comes to mind) but it will give you chills. After you’ve done that, there is still a great town to be explored, including the Sun Yat-sen mausoleum at Purple Mountain, and the old city walls.

Glen Recommends – Two to three days each in Shanghai, Suzhou, and Nanjing sounds like a fantastic week to me!

Alright so the path here is pretty well trodden...but it's still awesome!

Guangzhou, Guangdong – Alright, I’m biased, I’ll admit it. My new home away from home is a very cool place thatseems to be ignored as a tourist destination. Of course it has a bad reputation for being dirty, with rude people, but I think that is a thing of the past. The city is undergoing a massive renovation for the Asian Games (which should be done next week for the holiday), so the dirtiness should be no more. The original International Zone in Shamian Island is a walk to a Colonial Past, and Baiyun Mountain is a great way to be at one with nature in a city of 12 million people. Of course, the quality of the food may go without saying but I’ll say it anyway: the food here is FANTASTIC. While it often gets overshadowed by Hong Kong, make no mistake about it Guangzhou has style like Shanghai, and soul like Beijing.

Glen Recommends – Four Days in Hong Kong, take the train (only two hours) to Guangzhou for the next three days. Buy Glen a beer on night two.

….that worked right?

So I know that there are billions of locations that I missed, any more suggestions?

Today my guest is Josh Summers, a writer with a passion for the province of Xinjiang. He and his wife arrived in Xinjiang in August of 2006 and for reasons unknown to them stayed for almost four years.  Their experiences in the province have been featured on sites such as the BBC, MSNBC and China Daily, but Josh takes most pride in the writings he publishes on his own site, Xinjiang: Far West China.

Although he moved back to Texas in March of 2010, he continues to focus on his adopted home back in China.  In May he released a Turpan travel guide and is almost finished completing two more guides for Urumqi and Kashgar.  The perks of life in America have already worn off after two months and he’s hoping to return again to Xinjiang in the future.

Today Josh and I are going to be discussing a variety of issues in the Westernmost region in the Middle Kingdom.  So join us for Fact or Fiction 6:  Xinjiang, the Final Frontier…

1. The internet ban in Xinjiang went on far too long.

Glen: FACT

While I’m never a big fan of censorship, I get this one, really I do. Riots are bad and there is a desire to both limit the spread of information and to punish the offenders. But come on, 10 months? That’s a little excessive I think. I mean, the root cause of the riots is most definitely poverty, and how much economic damage was done by being so disconnected for so long?

Josh: FACT

You think?! To me, a couple weeks says “Hey, we’re security conscious and want to be careful”. 10 months says “We all failed economics class in school”. Now they’re having to play catch up with all these recent investment plans.

I agree that the root cause of this unrest is poverty, but more specifically the disparity between the income of your average Han and Uyghur. As is the case with most government policies around the world, it’s the small businesses that usually get hit the hardest and in Xinjiang there was no exception.

Well that was a pretty easy thing to agree on.  We’re starting off well, 1 for 1!

2. The proposed plan to turn Kashgar into a Special Economic Zone will be very beneficial to Xinjiang’s economy.

Glen: FACT

I mean, really you need to look no further than Shenzhen, which literally went from a mudbank to a metropolis in 30 years as a result of better policy, and good old fashion leaching from Hong Kong. While nobody really expects that to happen with Kashgar, there is still a lot of money that can be made trading with the ‘Stans, as all of them, especially Kazakstan and Uzbekistan are rapidly emerging economies, and Xinjiang is in a special place to benefit from it.

Josh: FICTION

I’ll seriously cry if Kashgar evolves to look remotely similar to Shenzhen! (no offense to any Shenzhen folks out there) I think that this statement applied to any province or city is true. Fill in the blank: “If you turn _________ into a Special Economic Zone it will be beneficial to _____’s economy”. So in that sense I agree with the statement – it will be beneficial to Kashgar.

Take the example of one other economic zone in Xinjiang. The Changji Hui Autonomous Prefecture, a small farming district to the north of Urumqi, was turned into an economic development zone years ago and factories have grown there faster than livestock. Most of the people who own those businesses aren’t Changji-natives, though. The city is now divided between wealthier business people who live within the city and pockets of the Hui people groups who live in small villages outside (near the factories where they can work). I believe that benefits the economy, sure, but not always the right people in that economy.

Let the venom start to flow!  We’re down to 1 for 2.

3. The government should stop tearing down Kashgar’s Old Town

Glen: FICTION

Kashgar's Old Town

That is, Fiction with a caveat. I think it would be foolish to completely demolish all of Kashgar’s Old Town, because quite simply: it’s awesome! However there is a difference between seeing the “traditional way of life” and having to live it. As great an experience as it is to walk through the old streets, the fact remains that peoples lives in there are very difficult. I know that I would much rather have central heating and working toilets than rustic traditionalism and I know that I’m not alone in that one. I think that some parts of the Old Town do need to be rebuild with new, modern buildings that give people a more comfortable lifestyle, but I hope that they keep enough to let curious people like me wander around in.

Josh: FACT

I look at it this way: governments all over the world can claim eminent domain (or compulsory purchase if you’re from the UK). They have the right to seize property without the owner’s consent for uses ranging from public highways to economic development.

I don’t think we can deny what the government has the right to do, but I think it is perfectly within reason to speculate on what should be done. I believe they should have asked residents of the area if they actually wanted to move. I think that despite any safety concerns, they should consider the social impact of tearing down the Old Town. There’s more at stake here than just the economy.

Looks like it’s not going so hot.  Let’s switch things up and talk about tourism, and have Josh go first.  1 for 3.

4. Xinjiang is the most beautiful province you have been to in China.

Josh: FACT

I’m very biased, I admit! I’ve visited quite a few provinces but have only lived in one. Personally, I’m drawn to Xinjiang for its diversity. It boasts the 2nd highest mountain in the world (K2) as well as the second lowest point in the world (Turpan Basin). I had the opportunity to ride camels along towering sand dunes and horses through sprawling pastures.

Xinjiang also boasts some of the most beautiful women in China. Now I’m a happily married man, but it baffles me that out of all the foreigners who come to China looking for wives, few make it out to Xinjiang. What’s up with that? The diversity here is mesmerizing!

Glen: FACT

Let’s see, I was almost pick pocketed, scammed by a crooked tour guide, got severe diarrhea and still had a fantastic time in my 10 day trip to Xinjiang last year!  (*cough* something I even wrote about on ChinaTravel.net *cough*).

I, like Josh, have visited several provinces, but only lived in one.  But unlike Josh, my “home province” is not what I consider to be the most beautiful province.  However that is not a slight against Jiangsu, it is a praise towards Xinjiang.  The mountains, deserts, lakes, and architectures make this a place that you shouldn’t miss.

Looks like the change did us good!  Both men love Xinjiang.  2 for 4.

5. Not nearly enough foreigners visit Xinjiang.

Come on, you know you wanna go there...

Josh: FACT

I’m torn with this statement. Every year tourism tends to trample another part of nature or exploit another part of Silk Road history. Change is inevitable, however, and if anybody were to ask me whether Xinjiang is worth the time and money, I would never hesitate to say ‘yes’.

Glen: FACT

I think that a lot of people buy into the safety issue more than they need to.  Xinjiang is a very safe place, certainly compared to locations in the West or around the world.  Sure it may not be quite as safe as the rest of China, but it’s certainly not a dangerous location.

Xinjiang is really the most foreign place you can go and still be in China.  It is so incredibly different from the China that we all know and (sometimes) love.  It is a great place to go if you need a “China Break” but don’t want to worry about passport regulations or changing money.

I guess this one was a bit of a gimme, especially given the last one.  3 for 5.

6. You would put Kashgar’s Sunday Markets as the #1 Xinjiang Sight/Activity:

Josh: FICTION

The Sunday Market in Kashgar is a must-see, no doubt, but over the years it has slowly begun to cater to, how shall I say…tourist needs. If you’re looking for a more authentic market I would head a few hours south to Hotan (Khotan) where culture hasn’t yet adapted to tourism. Of course, the more people that say that the more likely that market is to succumb to tourism needs as well.

If I had to choose one sight/activity in Xinjiang, I would stick with Kashgar but head a few kilometers west to the Id Kah Mosque. Particularly at the end of Ramadan. Thousands of worshipers gather at the mosque and after prayers continue the celebration with tons of dancing and good food. It only happens once a year, but it was absolutely the most awe-inspiring event I experienced there.

Glen: FICTION

Granted my experience in the autonomous region is far less than my counterpart, but my personal favourite area was Karakoram Pass.  As I said in my last Fact or Fiction entry (damn, I’m just plugging myself left, right and centre today!), it belongs in the same league as the Great Wall, seriously.

That being said, Kasghar’s markets are pretty darn close.  I have honestly never felt so far away from home as I did when I went to the Livestock Market in Kashgar.  I can’t say that I ever saw people literally trade goats for sheep, or had to dodge someone test driving a donkey.

And they continue to agree!  We are 4 for 6 which puts us in a tie for the most harmonious edition ever!

As always, what do the rest of you think?

By far my favourite is the photo captioned “上海资源丰富，请随便享用” — the first image in the “Water Fountains” section. Let it never be said that the Chinese are devoid of sarcasm.

主题: 对不起,我们丢脸了 / Subject: Sorry, we’ve lost face.

Crowds

4月20日上午，约20万人入园参观。结果人潮拥挤，迫使中国馆内的许多场馆停止参观。当时好象只有澳大利亚馆依然开放，于是无奈的观众都集中到此馆排队，排队长度有5~600米。突然间大家一拥往前奔跑，原来此馆也经受不住人多的压力，只好关闭。澳大利亚馆内工作人员在门口不断向等候者道歉解释…… / On the morning of April 20th, about 200,000 people visited the Expo grounds. The resulting crowds forced the China pavilion’s venues to close. At that time it appeared only the Australian pavilion was still open. With no other option the visitors got in line at the pavilion, creating a 5-600m long queue. Suddenly the crowd pushed forward, and because the pavilion could not accommodate the crowd, they also closed. The Australian pavilion representative continuously apologized to the waiting crowd…

2010.4.20上海世博会第一天试运行，迎来大批人流，很多馆都还在最后冲刺没开门迎客，使得少数试运行的展馆门口人山人海。德国馆吃不消了，仿佛被人潮吓坏了，直接贴出了“德国馆，关了”。看把德国人给逼的。。。 / 2010.4.20 For the Shanghai Expo trial run, a large crowd showed up, but many pavilions were still under preparations and so not open. This forced the visitors to the gates of the only open pavilions. The German pavilion, unable to accommodate the masses, quickly put up “Closed” signs. Look what “we’ve” forced the Germans to do.

Shanghai Welcomes You

排会儿队不算什么 / It’s no big deal to wait in line

看着祖国的强盛， 我自豪！ / To see the homeland flourish, I feel proud!

几个月，一闭眼就过去了 / Several months, close your eyes and it’ll pass.

受点委屈没什么， 上海人能屈能伸！ / A little discomfort is nothing, Shanghai people are adaptable!

欢迎全国人民来上海！ / Welcome everyone from across the country to come to Shanghai!

我们准备好了！ / We are ready!

上海准备好了,上海欢迎你,我觉得用这个眼神特别能表达现在的心情 / Shanghai is ready, Shanghai welcomes you, I think these eyes express the current mood.
On Photo: 上海欢迎你 / Shanghai Welcomes You

Food Services

世博园内48元套餐，有点儿强大。 / Expo Meal Set – 48 RMB — it’s a bit much.

橙汁+咖喱鸡肉饭+60元人民币 / 60 RMB for a plate of curry chicken and an orange juice.

大家不要急 每个人都有的 不要挤啊~啊！~~~~ / Everyone don’t rush. Everyone will have some. Don’t squeeze. Ah!

不贵的 南翔的n倍。。。人傻钱多 速来 / Not expensive, only N-times more than Nan Xiang [a famous Shanghai xiaolongbao restaurant]. Rich idiots come quick.

正宗“台湾”香肠 / authentic “Taiwan” sausage
On Photo: 15元一根的香肠，5元的矿泉水 / 15 RMB per sausage, 5 RMB per bottle of mineral water

绿色 无污染 纯天然 无激素 无苏丹红 无三鹿 无避孕药 无糖精 无转基因的塑料碗”石锅饭”‘ / Green, pollution-free, natural, no hormone, no Sudan Red [food colouring], no Sanlu [melamine contaminated milk], no birth control pills, no saccharin [artificial sweetener], not genetically modified plastic bowl “stone pot”
On Photo 1: 我妈妈吃的是 “韩国美食–石锅拌饭” 55元 / My mom ate this “Korean food — Bibimbap” 55 RMB
On Photo 2: 但是我很纠结，为虾米和我们平时在外面吃吃的差那么多呢？ / But I am very confused, why is this shrimp so much worse than what we usually get elsewhere

38块的“炒面”。。。这是炒面还是泔脚拌面？ / 38 RMB “fried noodles” … is this fried noodles or swill?

Water Fountains

上海资源丰富，请随便享用 / Shanghai is full of resources, please help yourself

这是喝水的家伙 不是垃圾桶 / This is for drinking water, it’s not a garbage bin

五千年的“文明”古国！在党的“教育和关怀”。2010等你来 / A 5,000 year “civilized” ancient country! Under Communist Party “teaching and care.” 2010 we’re waiting for you.

sb园区里的饮水处。。。看了你还敢用吗？ 阿姨是无辜的 错不符合国情 / The Expo water fountain … after you see this, do you dare still use it? It’s not Auntie’s fault, it doesn’t reflect the country’s conditions.

这不是sb会的厕所 是游泳池的消毒池 / This is not an Expo toilet, it’s a disinfectant swimming pool. [not 100% on this -- the Chinese is a bit wonky]

Cultural Differences

很好 很舒服 | 我感觉很不好 / Her: Very good, very comfortable. Him: I feel terrible.

Excited?

保守估计 正式开园后人流量是试开园的两倍 / Conservative estimates put attendance at twice what the trial run saw.

Today my guest is Rebekah Pothaar, the former editor of Ctrip and Chinatravel.net and former Shanghaiist and CNNGo contributor. She always dreamed of being a travel writer until she discovered through experience that writing is one of the most badly paid “glam” jobs on earth. So in 2009, she tossed her old dreams out the window and chose a life of corporate advertising in Shanghai. Since then she has what they call “career prospects” but rarely has time to write. Lonely Planet and The Telegraph phone her from time to time asking for her work, but she disdainfully asks them to show her the money. So far, they haven’t coughed up anything worth rolling out of bed for. She dreams that one day writers will be paid enough so she can leave the advertising business and return to writing again. In her spare time, she still enjoys traveling in China and lists camping on the Great Wall and running the Great Wall Marathon as her most unique China experiences.  With the May Holiday coming up, Rebekah and I will be discussing several travel issues in this crazy country of ours.

So join us for Fact or Fiction 5:  The Glenpire Strikes Back!!  (…I’ve seriously been waiting four issues of this to use that title)

1. China is a difficult place to travel

Glen: FACT

That is with a caveat of course. The only other places that I have traveled to aside from China are North America, Western Europe, and Southeast Asia, and compared to any country in those regions, China is rather difficult. If you add in the difficult language, the very difficult writing system, 1.3 billion people all trying to bump into you, and the very different culture, and you have a trip that is an adventure, but a slightly more challenging one than I had been previously used to.

Rebekah: FACT

I can’t disagree. China is undeniably more tough than most places, but it just means you need to do your research before you go. It also depends where you go and by what mode. It depends on why you came here to begin with. You need a lot of patience and energy to travel in China and you also need to be really curious and open-minded. You can’t expect the same comforts of home, and things don’t fall into your lap as easily as elsewhere. My advice is DO YOUR HOMEWORK BEFORE you travel in China – and I don’t mean just carrying a guidebook. The best travel advice is on forums like Lonely Planet’s Thorntree and for sure TripAdvisor is one of the best resources available. Also the advice of your friends. If they aren’t raving about it, don’t go. If they’re raving…go. I don’t usually research before traveling…except in China. Now I’m obsessed with it – a total control freak.

Well that’s a nice polite start.  How very Canadian of them.  1 for 1.

2. Beijing is a better tourist destination than Shanghai.

Glen: FACT

And may I add: fact FACT, a ZILLION times FACT!!! Now I certainly have as oft spot for Shanghai, living so close to it, but Beijing is well…Beijing. Shanghai is a city that I feel has more to do than the capital, but less to see. Add in the fact that there is no Great Wall, Forbidden City, Summer Palace, or Temple of Heaven in Shanghai and it’s a pretty easy distinction from my vantage point.

Rebekah: FICTION

Hmmmm, depends on how you define “better.” The first thing I did on arriving in Beijing was hiding out on the nearest Starbucks and cursing the godawful cold. The two cities are night and day. While Beijing will get you more interesting photos, Shanghai will get you more interesting memories. Shanghai has a dirty, sexy soul and sort of aloof coldness that makes you wish you could understand “better.” Shanghai also treats backpackers like homeless people – so don’t expect anyone to help you. As a visitor, you might be able to understand Beijing a bit better at a glance, but Shanghai… well, I have lived here for three years and still don’t get it. Beijing is kind of “what you see is what you get” and Shanghai will forever play games with you and then spit you out, just as soon as you thought you’d made friends.

Hmmm….so if they were both lovers, would Beijing be the one that you should want, but Shanghai be the one that you keep chasing?  I’ve never been more intrigued by the Whore of the Orient… 1 for 2.

3. Chinese Tour Groups are the worst part of traveling in China.

Glen: FACT

I was all set to say Fiction, thinking about the urinating in the streets or the internet issues, but upon some reflection I changed my mind. I remember this summer, when I was in Qinghai province, I went to Ta’er Si, a very holy Buddhist Temple outside of Xinning. I was very excited to be in this sacred place and have some moments of solitude, but all of the pushing, smoking, spitting and “wei ni hao”ing really hurt my chance of attaining inner peace. I know that there are lots of cultural and social reasons for the tour groups to behave the way they do, but I don’t have to like it.

Rebekah: FICTION

I’d say its Chinese tourism that’s the worst, rather than tour groups per se. It’s the concept of having to own nature in a lot of these tourist spots that is often positively vulgar, more so than the crowds – or perhaps it’s a type of kitsch that I just don’t understand. It’s knowing there is one “photo taking spot” and it’s more about proving “I was there” than actually being there and enjoying the experience. The hawkers and crap sold all over the place, animals on site like ponies and camels for you to get your photo taken on top of – this is the most tacky. I’ve gotten to the point where I avoid popular tourist destinations because the more popular – the more likely you are to be disappointed. I have never been to the Terracotta Warriors and have no intention of going for this reason – I am sure the photos are better than the actual “experience.”

Seems like they agree on a macro but not micro level.  Interesting.  1 for 3. Time to switch things up!

4. It is impossible to get “Off the Beaten Path” in China.

Rebekah: FICTION

China is a big country and there are off the beaten track places, and there are also many places that appeal more to Westerners than Chinese – like Xinjiang for example. Westerners love Xinjiang, but most Chinese would not put this top on their list. Xinjiang has all the attractions of the Stan countries but with more infrastructure. Also Yunnan and Guangxi provinces have off the beaten track destinations – I was very impressed by the pristine quality of Tiger Leaping Gorge despite its fame as long as you take the high road; Chinese tourists all take the low road.

Glen: FICTION

Only because I used the word “impossible”, and technically nothing is impossible, but it sure is difficult.  I found some places in Xinjiang to be pretty quiet, and some places to be pretty quiet.  Even my aforementioned trip to Qinghai was far more crowded than I thought it would be.  There are over a billion people in this country, plus millions of foreign tourists, so it’s hard to find any path that has yet to be beaten, but it is still doable with some effort.

Some agreement about finding your own moment of solitude here.  2 for 4.

5. It is very naive for any traveler to say that they have “Done China”

Rebekah: FICTION

Having “done” China, means you’ve experienced an open-faced squat toilet – in other words, you’ve left your comfort zone, you’ve eaten many things without knowing what they were, you’ve recognized the enduring beauty of neon lights, you’ve had an old lady push in front of you in the queue, you’ve ridden a bicycle with the masses, you’ve haggled and won, you’ve learned to stop taking “Mei you” for an answer, and you have developed a grudging respect for the tenacity and perseverance of Chinese people. You don’t have to go far or many different places to have experienced all of the above, so you’re not naïve; you’ve done China when China’s done you.

Glen: FACT

First off:  “you’ve done China when China’s done you” may be the greatest line in the history of not only this website, but possibly in the history of the entire internet.  Who do I compose a strongly worded e-mail to in order to get it recognized?

Oh right, the topic at hand.  I think that China is one of the countries in the word that is most difficult to effectively “do”.  It is the third largest country in the world, with the largest population, the longest history, and one of the most varied landscapes.  To say that it is “done” is either pretty darned close to impossible or very naive.  I lived in Canada for 25 years, and I don’t think that I’ve properly done it, so I doubt I could “do” China in that amount of time.

Interesting disagreement.  2 for 5.  One last chance to go halfsies.

6. Your agree with the Lonely Planet Top 5 Places in China: The Forbidden City, The Terracotta Warriors, The Bund, The Great Wall, and The Li River.

Rebekah: HALF AND HALF

I have been to all of those places, except the Terracotta Warriors (which I have no intention of visiting because have heard from multiple friends that it’s a horrid gong-show). The Great Wall is amazing (not Badaling, but Jinshanling to Simatai). The Li River (especially around Yangshuo is incredible). The Bund is stunning with its combination of classical European buildings on one side of the river and skyscrapers on the other – and you gotta love the Pearl Tower – the most gayest, most phallic, most fabulous building on earth! I never get sick of staring out over the Bund with a glass of champagne. The Forbidden City is boring, to be honest – it’s one of those “must see places” that’s forced on you and you can’t escape. I’d have to say that Tiger Leaping Gorge was really great, better than the Forbidden City. And having watched Avatar, I’m dying to visit Zhangjiajie in Hunan province: exchange that for the Terracotta Warriors.

Glen: FICTION

No love for the Terracotta Warriors eh?  Well I think that they belong in that pretty elite category.  However, I would ditch The Bund for sure.  It’s cool and all, but I don’t think that it’s anywhere near the Karakoram Pass, Xiahe, Dali, or Xishuangbanna.  As for the others, I think that the Great Wall is absolutely spectacular, especially the Huanghuacheng section, and The Li River was straight out of a fairytale, and I really dug the Forbidden City.  However, something has to go to make room for my places.  I’d have my Top 5 be:  The Great Wall, Karakoram, The Terracotta Warriors, The Li River and Xishuangbanna with all of the other places mentioned rounding out the Top 10.

Well they may not agree technically, they certainly agree in spirit.  I’m counting it!  3 for 6.

So that about does it for this edition of the program, for Rebekah, I’m Glen,  thanks for reading!  As always we’d love to hear your thoughts/opinions on the issues out there in commentland.