Trip 1 Before Australia: Hangzhou (hong-joe), the most popular tourist destination in China (I guess…if you’re Chinese…or read Wikipedia…which I did...how do you think I figured out which bus to get lost on later…)



Brent and I were like two kids on the first day of high school, anxious about showing up at the wrong place at the wrong time and then being lost in cold, heartless, China (kidding, but heartless sounds good). We didn’t know when the trains loaded, how early we had to be there blah blah.

We showed up 45 minutes early—mostly because we figured that’s how long it would take to push through the crowd and into the building. We made it to the depo, through the outside line, and through metal detector.

Now imagine…

The metal detector we walked through might not have worked--just a lucky guess. But Brent walked through with his 10lb collection of Chinese change he kept ready to spend on sodas, his metal belt, gold chain, and nipple rings….Come on, don’t be ridiculous...everyone knows his chain is silver.

Moments later, we were surrounded by…

People. And a lot of crap on the floor.


The Chinese are very fond of giving back to the earth, whether or not the earth happens to be covered by cement, carpet, or your luggage.
Of particular notice were the chicken bones and egg shells taking up residence in the flip flops of passengers.

That brings me to a question. Is there a 10 second rule in China?

Once on the train, we had the pleasure of sharing the two seats across from us with

Three other people, and a baby.

But luckily for all of us, no one spoke a lick of the other person’s language-- so we just did a lot of staring and awkward facial expressions. As a general rule, Brent and I like to make people feel uncomfortable, but I’m pretty sure they outdid us with their breath/farts (I’m not quite sure which one was worse).

Hangzhou—

Both of us forgot about grabbing a map in the more English/Mandarin friendly Shanghai--I think most of our adventure comes from our incredible lack of planning (I can't even make this stuff up). So we wandered around for a couple miles before trudging back to the train station and hightailing it in the other direction to get on a bus. We hoped we would pass by our hotel, which, according to Wikipedia, was right on this route.

Lesson Two: There is no such thing as current information in China, just the best guess. The two things that are constant here, like everywhere else, are death and taxes---and tourist rip off, but that pretty much goes with taxes…and death.

Turns out, the correct bus was not in operation that day, so after 2 hours of enjoying sites of interest in an odd Chinese dialect, we went to the mall to find a pay phone and call our hotel.

Have you ever tried to find a pay phone in a Chinese mall?

You’ll have better luck borrowing one from a stranger, which I had to do back in September when Brent disappeared on his way to meet me for the Shanghai Open….

But back to finding a pay phone…

I used my rotten excuse for Mandarin skills, which involved more body language than words, to get someone to show us a pay phone. They even went as far as trying to dial before reporting the phone didn’t work.

What to do…what to do…???

Lost, as usual, in a foreign city…late at night

of course…

We looked for help and found 2 girls at a desk in the mall

Although their job was to help us find purchases in the mall, and although they didn’t speak English…

Somehow, they called our hotel and got directions and wrote them in Chinese for us to get a taxi…

At last we got to the hotel, but,

We were so late they gave away our reservation.

What to do…what to do…???

We went to Pizza Hut.

After wandering for hours that day, my homing skills continued to be razor sharp. I was able to walk from our hotel, in the dark, to Pizza Hut, the only Western restaurant we had passed on the bus ride at mid-day, even though it was several blocks away, hidden in the middle of a nondescript mall.

Now tell me... Wouldn’t you rather have a chubby friend on a travel adventure?

We were warned that Pizza Hut in China was crap, but I have news for you…,

Crap pizza must mean crispy crust, real cheese, and tomato sauce not made with fish and innards because that was the first, and only decent pizza we had in China, and I’m sure we tasted enough places to be in contention for the most nights ordering in award—on any continent..