Thanksgiving noodles, REAL lattes and a close call to Hong Kong prison.

My, my, my...time has sped by. I apologize for my lack of attentiveness since leaving you on a rainy afternoon in Yangshou. However, with the big city awe of Hong Kong, a timely visit by the police and practically quantum leaping over border crossings - yes, I admit that I've been negligent to my duties. If only to avoid the hassle of writing on bumpy buses or in the tea light lit murkiness of a cafe, I've been letting my thoughts pile into a cluttered jumble of chaos. Even I can't resolve what happened when as many of our nights and days have switched places. Bright eyed and annoyingly uncomfortable during overnight journeys only to sleep the cloudy afternoons away in the days following. Such situations are part of the hastily wrapped package called travelling - welcome to my world.

Happy Thanksgiving with no pumpkin pie

While many of you were munching turkey, grandma's stuffing, and mom's green bean casserole, I was desperately scouring the city for some resemblance of a holiday meal. KFC was down the road, but without my 30+ cousins chattering in the background, it's seemed pointless to munch away on fried chicken wings and sides of cardboard mashed potatoes. When in Rome then .......I settled for a generous plate of veggie dumplings and spicy noodles - there was some chicken bits in there somewhere. Chicken/turkey - all a part of the same feathered family.

Cara and I spent Thanksgiving day teaching a mass of 6th graders the colours of the rainbow and mixed up words to the hokey pokey. With our different accents, pronunciations of 'z' and interpretations of popular childhood songs, I think we only confused the poor darlings. Earlier, we happened upon a sweet old lady who has been living in Yangshou for several years, organizing overseas English teachers for the surrounding school districts. Her husband also headed a nonprofit organization based primarily on travellers who passed through the area. His aim was to bring as many volunteers for however long they could spare into the poorer school districts. These schools received no government funding to pay for real English teachers. We happily signed up for a day of ABC'ing and were whisked off to a tiny village across the river. The kids were ecstatic to meet some westerners and, aside from a few naughty boys, the class was determined to learn as much as they could during our short visit.

Yangshou, though a lovely cobblestone village, soon came to remind us too much of the China version based in Disneyland. The weather also encouraged a quick escape. There were only too many rainy afternoons spent in tea cafes or dodging raindrops that we could handle. Along with the seemingly endless masses of tourists carted back and forth along the river, we quickly decided to hightail it to Hong Kong on an overnight bus. The fact that our visas expired in 24 hours hurried our decision as well. Off to the land of lights....

If only I was 12 inches shorter

It seemed like a good idea - overnight on a sleeper bus to the border and an early arrival in Hong Kong. I'm always hopeful - at least my everlasting optimism hasn't worn away. Now I know better and can warn all you tall travellers out there to stay away (or bring along a hefty dose of sleeping pills). A sleeper bus in China is, of course, designed to fit the stature of typical Chinese people. Now imagine me compared to your average China man. Even poor Cara, who is a good six inches shorter than me, spent the night with her feet shoved clear to the bottom of the bunk and had no spare room to turn either way...makes for a comfy nights sleep. Forget the fact that we had karaoke blaring overhead followed by two/three middle of the night rendezvous in which the driver snuck on 100 + boxes of dried apricots and stored them right in the sleeping compartment. I only wish I had pictures to justify the evenings adventure but I wasn't particularly in a cheery, bushy tailed mood.

We finally disembarked in Guanzhou at 7 a.m., stood up and stretched the aches from our backs. The bus driver must have been in a hurry to deliver his apricot delights for he almost threw us off the bus as we hastily lugged our bags off. Thinking we were right across the street from the second bus depot that would take us merrily on our way to Hong Kong, I proceeded to take the map and lead Cara in circles for two hours. Silly Westerners, we had forgotten that we were in China and the buses and train systems never wind up at the proper destination. There are always two or three other bus stations and, as a rule, you will always end up at the one on the opposite side of town. Sorry Cara for my, "I know it's just right around the corner..." Our confusion could explain the complete looks of insanity that we received upon showing our Mandarin symbols to several locals. They either smiled smugly or ignored us completely. After admitting that we were completely lost again , we finally hailed a cab and drove 20 min. across town to the proper bus terminal.

Border crossings are never fun - Hong Kong not being an exception. For the ordinary viewer, I'm sure the masses at customs resembled a herd of tortured cows shuffling along to slaughter. Too many people, to few customs officials and too many pushy people. Details excluded, it took well over two hours to clear both immigration and customs. Cara and I were completely exhausted by the time we arrived in the Kowloon distrit at the end of the afternoon. By then, we had been travelling for over 24 hours and just wanted a shower and a bed - - both of which we received. Our humble abode for the next few days was another story altogeter.

Welcome to your nightmares - ChungKing Mansions

ChungKing Mansions are a Steven King novel just waiting to happen. A twenty something story building, rambling and totally derelict, it must have come straight out of Candy Man (a 1990's horror movie for you non-blockbuster fans out there). Rats in the elevators, peeling paint, broken windows and a stairwell that even the bravest gangster would be hesitant to enter. The foyer of our home sweet home was full of Pakistani, Nigerian, and Indian men selling mobile phones, ugly clothes, and cheap calling cards. Walking through the bottom floor in an attempt to find my elevator, I often forgot what country I was visiting. The cat calls and whistles got just a bit annoying but Cara and I eventually put ourselves on autopilot and steered straight through the leering crowds of hormonal men. Our only elevator to the 12th floor was usually broken or there was a line 20 minutes long full of slimy, touchy feely salesmen carting up fifty kilo packages of who knows what......the list does on...

Aside from the outside, our pink curtained room was wonderful. Two big beds, towels supplied, and a TV that, once in a great while, showed an English program. We were comfy for several nights and I was finally able to sleep soundly for the first time since arriving in China. The 3 a.m visit by the customs police kind of spoiled our fairy tale boudoir - an event that I still fully intend to complain about....to someone...haven't figured out who yet.

POLICE - Open Up

Cara and I were attempting to sleep through the loud racket outside our door. Our neighbours were yakking on the phone for over an hour and it was well past the hours of using indoor quiet voices (didn't anyone learn that in first grade?). Before we could go out and ask nicely for a bit of peace, they ended the phone call and all was quiet in the Mansions. Sound sleep at last....Twenty minutes later, BANG, BANG, BANG followed by insistent ringing of the hostel's doorbell. Not knowing what sort of drunk fanatic was lurking outside we weren't about to go open the gate for them. Hoping they would go away, we pulled our pillows over our heads in an silly attempt to cover the noise. Eventually, after 15 more minutes of constant bell blaring and door banging, our neighbour came out and investigated. That's when we were thrown out of our beds by a sudden thumping on our own door. "Police, open up."

Now, mom has trained me well and although I have naive tendencies from growing up in small town farm country, I would gladly walk barefoot in the public loos downstairs than have opened the door to strangers at 3 a.m. in the morning. What would the police be doing at that hour? More important, why would they want to see us? I'd like to say that after all my travelling that I have developed a rather brave persona.....not in this situation.

Therefore, since we hadn't the slightest idea what was going on, Cara and I staunchly told them a flat out no, we were certainly not going to open the door. We were again ordered to open the door, over and over and over while we stood behind the door and said absolutely not. Of course, we asked for ID, which they refused to push under the door and we asked what they wanted, which they refused to answer. They weren't offering any ID and there was no way in hell I was opening the door to some idiot of a man pounding on my door. I've watched enough ‘Unsolved Mysteries’ and episodes of ‘Cops’ to let my imagination run away with me.

Looking back, we made quite a site. We were both in our underwear; Cara clutching her Swiss army knife and me poised with the telephone receiver - the only weapon I could find on short notice. We eventually heard some of the voices move further down the hall while one of the men stood post at our door and continued to pound furiously. Finally, a female officer that spoke clear enough English explained that they were doing a routine customs check. For fear they would slam our door in if we didn't cooperate, we hastily opened the door a crack and shoved our passports out. By then, our darling 4 foot landlord showed up in his checkered boxers and tried to sooth away our now very angry demeanour. Mr. Woo explained that this happened all the time. Whoops!! The somewhat irate customs offical handed our passports back and we sheepishly smiled and wished them luck with the remaining 11 floors.

Exploring Hong Kong

We had several days to explore Hong Kong. Our hostel was actually located on another island in an area called Kowloon, one of the main tourist drags full of good eats and excellent shopping . It was only a short 20 cent ferry ride over to Hong Kong island where the business district and most of the famous sky scrapers were located. Unfortunately the weather wasn't in our favour. Gray clouds and mist spoiled many of the must see sights including Victoria Peak and the Giant Buddah on Lantau island.

The city certainly had enough lights. Many stores and outdoor venues were already decorated in outrageous xmas garb. Fake blue trees and watermelon sized gold ornaments were squished into every available corner. Twinkling fairy lights swung overhead and crisscrossed the busy boulevards. Many had already started their Christmas shopping and skittered through the streets armed with bags of treats and stuffed animals.

Hong Kong city life met my expectations in many ways - yes, Hong Kong was a brightly lit, exciting city. There were plenty of clubs, pubs, malls, and street markets to keep the common Joe busy for several days. The streets were clean and western toilets were easy to find. English was both widely spoken and used in outdoor advertisements so we didn't feel the need wander around lost for hours on end. However, I certainly didn't expect so many explicitly advertised sexual innuendos in such a modern city. Upon venturing into a DVD store to find a nice Hilary Duff movie for my 12 yr old sister, I was assaulted by thousands upon thousands of pornographic movies, mostly staring pubescent girls and boys. Signs everywhere advertised hourly motel rates, show girl dance venues, and scantily clad sex toy stores. It was hard to avoid and grew to be rather disgusting after awhile.

Luckily we ran into our old friends Sonia and Harris. They had to delay their flight to India for several days and were also hanging out in the Kowloon area. We scoured the streets together and found a wonderful coffee cafe that served REAL espressos. Cara was so wide eyed with wonder that I didn't think we would ever be able to drag her out of the aromatic venue. Our first taste of caffiene in over a month!! We also found (after days of searching) the perfect pork buns. Cara claims she came to China soley to eat pork buns and so far, we haven't been able to find them anywhere in China. For any visitor to a Chinatown at home, you know that there is no substitute for these savory delights. I think they also come frozen in many Asian grocery stores but they are nothing like the real thing. They originated in Hong Kong after all!

We still have a few more days in Hong Kong. It's a bit expensive to tell the truth - at least compared to other Asian countries. We found that even the street food and local cafes are incredibly expensive for our "China" budgets. Luckily, the grocery store is right next to the cruise ship docks and they have plenty of goodies. I think Cara even found Tim-Tams????

Off to some hot tourist sights tomorrow. Praying for a sunshiny day - please, please, please!! Happy Aniversary Mom and Dad!!! 35th I believe!! Here's to 35 more wonderful, happy years for the two of you!! Love you both!

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