pictures of the stuff described below

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Yangshuo

I was warned by my guidebook that I’d get stuck in Yangshuo for longer than I thought, and planned on arrival to stay for six days instead of the two or three I’m spending everywhere else. That was ten days ago now, and with a day left there are still a long list of things to do before I go.
The first few days were a writeoff due to torrential rain and illness. I was so feverish the first night that I had the most intensely emotional dreams I’ve ever had. I think I must’ve been talking in my sleep as the girl in the bed next to me refused to speak to me before she left the next morning. On the second day I got out of bed only to go on a futile trip to the doctor, and a subsequent more fruitful one to the chemist, to buy some (possibly fake) antibiotics. Those seemed to sort me out, and fairly soon I was eating normal food and drinking beer.
It was a shame that I couldn’t appreciate Yangshuo when I first arrived, as it really is a spectacularly beautiful place. The second half of my time here I’ve mainly been cycling around the area. Take a look at the photos to see why. I could try to describe the hills but I doubt I could do them justice.
On Tuesday I caught the bus to the next town up the Li river, Xingping. It was market day, but I didn’t particularly feel like buying anything. A local woman spent the hour that I was there following me around and trying to persuade me to take a bamboo raft down the river to a fishing village, and she eventually cut the price low enough for me to relent. It was a bit of a drizzly day, but I did at least get to see the hills on the 20 kuai note.
Yesterday I went to see the famous local sights with a Chinese-English girl who was staying at my hostel. We went on another bamboo raft, up the famous Moon Hill to see the famous view, an down some caves where I swam in a mud pool. I’d thought it was “the thing you were supposed to do”, but have since found out that it’s supposed to be a summer activity. Still, didn’t get sick, so no harm done.
Today I went to the Yao minority “Dragon Bone Rice Terrace” but that deserves an entry of its own, and I don’t have time right now.

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Pictures of the stuff below

photos under the link

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It’s been a few days now since I left Zhuhai. The last night was the usual leaving party, an event that I never really enjoy, and this time was no exception, ending with me spewing into a sink at 5am, then wandering the streets trying to find some drinkable water.
Eight hours after that I was off on my journey to Guilin. Zhuhai doesn’t have a train station so I spent two hours on a train to Guangzhou and caught the ‘hard sleeper’ from there. It was a lot more pleasant and communal than I expected with rows of beds quite as soft as anything I’ve slept on in China. That’s to say hard by western standards but nothing I’m not used to by now.
I had a good day in Guilin, though an expensive one. It’s one of China’s most famous tourist destinations, and for good reason – Ancient buildings are interspersed with bizarre hills that jutt up from the otherwise flat land. It was a shame that the weather was on the English side, otherwise I’d have been able to get decent pictures. Altogether it was a very attractive place, though very expensive and with too many aggressive salespeople everywhere.
Yesterday morning I woke up at 7.30 to get a boat down the Li river to Yangshuo. I’d been sick over the course of the night and was feeling absolutely wretched as I boarded the ancient minibus that was to take us to the wharf. On the way there I saw an open van with men in camouflage inside who dropped chains of firecrackers out the window as they sped round a roundabout. Cars and motorbikes behind had to swerve to get out of the way of the explosions.
After an inexplicable half-hour stop at a roadside jewelery shop we reached the boat. The scenery of the Li River was stunning, but unfortunately I was too sick to appreciate it. I went onto the deck and took some photos (so I could appreciate them later) and ended up asleep after being unable to eat the lunch I’d paid for. When I got to Yangshuo I headed straight for the hostel,
After a lot of fruit juice and about 20 hours sleep I’m now feeling mostly better.

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I thought I was leaving Zhuhai on Monday, but walking along the street this afternoon I realised I’d been confused last week and that my train ticket was for the 25th, not the 26th. A swift trip to the ticket agency revealed that they are just an agency and can’t change tickets. So, fuck it, I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.
Sitting down in a restaurant I thought I should probably check when I should hand over my house keys. My notebook says: “24th – 9.30am.” Fuck. I’m an idiot.

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This week is Chinese New Year, and the start of the Year Of The Pig. What this mean to me in practical terms is that most of the Chinese people I know have gone back to their hometowns and most of the shops and restaurants are closed. I know Zhuhai well enough now to not expect any dragon or lion dances in the streets.
Apart from this there are the fireworks, which are supposed to be illegal in this city, though I’ve never seen a less enforced law. Even in the daytime gangs of kids run round the streets with fuseless firecrackers.
Last night I went with a fair few other people to the park near my house to set off some of our own. There must have been a good hundred people there, most of them treating explosives with the same enthusiasm and lack of care that I share with only a few people my age back in the UK. There was a woman selling fireworks from a bin to a crowd of people who were then setting them off nearby.

These weren’t only the sparklers and bottle rockets that you might expect elsewhere. A good portion of the things being set fire to probably contained a warning about standing 10 metres away. Bollocks to that.

We bought a fair amount of the things ourselves and quickly got into a war with some ten-year-old kids who decided to fire some rockets at us. After a brief escalation a truce was declared and we moved on to egging each other on. Good, reckless, dangerous fun was had by all. Nobody was injured.

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Snake Soup

What it is: Snake Soup

Location: Backstreet restaurant, Gongbei

Review continues under the cut

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Macau, Part Three

The one thing I haven’t mentioned about Macau is also the main reason most people visit it. Due to gambling being severely restricted in both China and Hong Kong the only place anyone can build a casino is on this tiny island. There’s not a lot of room left for new buildings, so banks of land are being reclaimed from the sea to build Las Vegas style casino resorts. I’m not really a gambling man, but I thought I should check them out anyway.

The first I went to was “Casino Lisboa”

Apparently it’s the most famous Casino in the city, where the serious gamblers hang out. There were three floors inside, but each one was the same – a big circular room full of baccarat tables, cigarette smoke and rich Cantonese women. I haven’t a clue how to play baccarat. It seemed a bit like blackjack, only much more complicated. Standing around had limited appeal once I found out there wasn’t a bar, so I went across the street to the “Grand Lisboa”.

This is a much flashier building. The lights that you can see make up an immense globe-shaped electronic billboard, which is, to be fair, pretty impressive. Above you can see the hotel part, which is still under construction. The top floors actually extend over the road, which is disconcerting to say the least. This poster shows what it will look like when it is finished – a giant silver onion.

Inside it is a good deal more modern and a lot larger than the Grand Lisboa, but with the same baccarat tables. At least here there was a bar, which was not as expensive as I’d expected, and entertainment of the shit-magic-show-and-dancing-girls variety. There were slot machines too, but I can’t fathom the appeal of these at all.
The third casino I went to looked a like this:

It lacked even the minor appeal of the other two. I didn’t even bother taking pictures of the other three places I tried. They were all dull in the same way. The only entertainment I had all evening was in fending off some Filipino prostitutes.
Fundamentally I just don’t really get the appeal of casinos. Surely people don’t actually think they are going to win money when the odds are so stacked against them, so what exactly do they go there for? The terrible entertainment? The overpriced drinks? I’m at a loss. I try hard to save money so I can travel and watching rich people throw it away for fun just leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. Or as Rudyard Kipling put it

“If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
You are a twat with too much money.”

In short, for all its shortcomings, I like the old Macau, and don’t like the Las Vegas of China. Maybe Old Macau should fire up the cannons on the battlements:

The bay area shows how Macau can manage to be both modern and pleasant. Even if the rest of the place turns into casino resorts I’ll be happy if I can sit with a plate african chicken and a glass of sangria and look at this.

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Macau Pt 2

After a couple of days or so in Macau at this time of year the cramped, polluted streets start to lose their appeal a little, so I took a bus across to the other two islands in the city.
The first – Taipa – doesn’t seem to be particularly interesting, from what I can tell. It has the airport and the racetrack, but aside from that it seems to be mainly comprised of half built luxury resort complexes.
The south island – Coloane – is a different story altogether. As few as a hundred years ago it was a base for China sea pirates, and little seems to have been built since then. There’s only one village, and it doesn’t really look Chinese at all.

Along the coast are a couple of small, deserted beaches. I took the bus to the second, and walked back along the coastal path to the first.

There was a perfect little tropical beach at the end with a restaurant serving authentic Italian food – the first I’ve found in China. A shame the weather was so miserable, but you can’t have everything.

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Macau, Part one.

My Chinese visa ran out this week, so I had to go down the road to Macau for a few days to get a new one. I left on Monday and spent most of the day queueing – at the hospital getting my hearing restored, waiting for two buses, near two hours waiting at the border, then as a finale the Chinese embassy, where people were actually fighting each-other to get number-tickets. I just about managed to get my application in on time.
On Wednesday I returned to pick up my passport and found I’d been given a visa for one month instead of two. After a half-hour wait I was told that two month tourist visas don’t exist but since they had accepted the application they would make an exception in my case. I’m a lucky, lucky boy.
In the meantime I got a chance to explore Macau properly for the first time. It isn’t a very well known city, probably because of its small size and lack of any famous events or exports, but there’s still nowhere like it in the world. In short it’s the Portugese equivalent of Hong Kong, only compacted into a much smaller area. From above it looks a bit like this:

On ground level things it’s a claustrophobic’s nightmare. Every inch of space on the island is crammed full of decaying apartment buildings. This is the main square:

This is a temple:

And this is a view down one of the widest main streets:

As you can see, the main vehicle of choice is the motor-scooter. I’d swear that nearly everyone there has one. You have to be very careful when crossing roads as invariably a pack of them will come at you the second the lights change. It’s fortunate that Macanese drivers are so good – I can only imagine the carnage if the sociopathic drivers on the mainland were allowed to ride them.
Aside from the apartments there is also the occasional old Portugese building to set things off. The most famous of all would be the Ruins of the Church of Saint Paul. This is all that remains of the church and college that burned down near 150 years ago. I’d say it wouldn’t look so good if there was a building behind it.

In the intervening time somebody decided to build this next to it:

Which shows an admirable contempt for tourism that we could learn from in Europe.
Old buildings always look better unpolished. This one, for example…..

…is better than this, much more unusual one:

….more Macau tomorrow.

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