ON A SLOW BOAT THROUGH CHINA

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To fully get across stuff in this latest tome I probably have to aquaint you better with the rest of my travelling companions.

As you might recall I wasn't that enamoured with them on first encounter which just goes to show what a judgemental git I can be, cos as time has gone on familiarity has certainly not bred contempt. On the whole, though we may be a large group we are a happy little band of wanderers.

Firstly you have Richard and Stu.

Richard, (sometimes goes by first name Neil), having been made redundant last year, (worked at Albright and Wilson for a while after college), took himself off for a 6 month stint around the world and is nearing the end of that now and is soon to return to the UK to look for work, Stu as far as I can suss is a friend from home who has joined him for his final leg.

Next you have the Irish contingent.

Colin Mahoney is a recently qualified nurse from Dublin, (outward going and a man comfortable in himself to have no qualms about performing the macarena on stage), and was at school with fellow nurse, (and travelling companion), Rachel, and their friend Liza.

Liza Pringle is quite simply adorable, a small, kind of pixie of a person, (hope that aint insulting), with a voice like one of the Corrs on helium. She's full of fun, always smiling, very sweet, and has time and interest for everyone.

Along with her is her brother Bobby, a pale skinned, red haired, skinny, (and frequently baddly dressed), young man with a deep and pronounced Dublin accent who is without doubt a highly entertaining individual.

In the years since leaving school, (which cant be that many I'd have thought), he's been a primary school teacher, got a post grad in something chemical or other, been involved with a charity that fights for the rights of Irish travellers, and currently is very enthusiastic towards working with a charity that works to promote aids/hiv awareness in Zimbabwe. He's a big drinker, has a wicked sense of humour, stole my waterproof matches off me on the sleeper, and for that matter a fair amount of drink from the bar on the ship, and all in all is a unique human being.

After the Irish comes the antipodeans.

Firstly Scott and Tanya from New Zealand.

I initially thought these two a bit standoffish, but it turns out for the first few days of the trip Tanya was not a well person which can put a dampner on anyones enthusiasm to mingle.

They are out in the world doing their big trip for a few years. Have lived and worked in Sydney, travelled up through Thailand and Cambodia, and after China are off to St Petersburg via the trans siberian before flying to London to work for a couple of years. It has to be said their a strikingly good looking couple who complement each other well.

Chris and Michelle from Australia did their big trip some years ago, and are now in China celebrating their first wedding anniversary. They live in Melbourne, and like me bought their house at the right time, work hard, and put money aside for big trips like this as part of their budgeting. They both enjoy a good night out as well and are prepared to suffer the consequences of a hangover the next day.

The gap girls, (as I tend to think of them), are three young school leavers on a 6 month gap year. Still not sure who is who, (Chris has spice girl names for them), and they don't mix with us as much as they mix with each other, but their a lot younger, and it's not like they don't involve themselves, their just much more of their own group.

From here we go to the Canadians. Lisa is the journalist, (Works for a network radio affiliate in Vancouver), she is of course as I just said A JOURNALIST, but other than that is fine to get along with, though can take things maybe a tad too serious and grown up for her age. On the whole I think she's come to China with her own notions already on how the place works, (I reckon anyhow)!

Murley Anne, (who thankfully preffers to be just called Anne), is from Montreal and is, (in her 50s/60s), by far the oldest of the group, (which is always a relief to me cos, with 40 a few years round the corner, I always have some concerns on these trips that I'm going to be the resident oldie). She's nice enough, but I suspect me and her would have little in common ideology wise if we really sat down and discussed stuff. She runs her own sportswear business and takes holidays such as this when she can fit them in and get away from her work.

Finally we have Susan who is a 30/40 something nurse from Cornwall. Though not in any way standoffish she's not too prone to mixing as well as the rest of us, (she's partnered room wise with Anne and I aint sure that's working either)? She tends to go to bed early, (which she has a right to do of course), and I think maybe is not as well travelled as others. Certainly a nice enough person, possibly slightly reserved, I'd say she's often more at the fringes of the group.

And that's all of us.

I had to give you the gen on them cos we've been stuck together on a boat going up the Yangste for the past 4 days which certainly is one way of getting to know folk.

We've been travelling up the 3 gorges which ranks as one of the worlds 'must sees' and which some say has to be seen now before the final phase of the chinese dam project there takes full effect and raises the water level to its maximum height.

There are cheaper smaller boats that make this trip, but their conditions and safety standards are too low for even the company I'm travelling with, so instead we all found ourselves, on our first day at the harbour in Yichang, faced with a bit of moderate luxury.

The Victoria 1 is one of 5 Victoria ships that ply up and down the river and has a nice assortment of cabins with river views, lounges, and dining room, a library, (of sorts), a gym, (again of sorts), a bar, and lots of deck space.

Aside from us we were shariing the ship with a combined group of senior yeared dutch and danish people led by a man I tended to refer to as Papa Smurf, (if you saw him you'd understand), and a rather whiney English family, (who to me would have looked more settled airing their issues on Trisha... but there you go). There was also 2 other imtrav groups, one led by a young Mancunian, (who looked all of 14), who had the either pleasurable or intimidating task of escorting a large group of fun loving 20 something ladies, (tended to think of them as the 'lambrini girls'), and another which looked like a far less entertaining lot led by a stroppy Ozzie guide who thought highly of himself and tended to bluster and pompositate, (just made that word up), at staff about safety standards, and procedures etc. (Maybe its cos of him his group looked so pissed off all the time)?

We were very much in truth club 18 - 30 meets Saga which was always going to lead to tension, and were watched throughout by our continually bemused Chinese staff, who on the whole seemed always to be awake and at their stations whenever you got up and moved around, (kind of wondered if they were some fiendish Chinese cybernetic hybrid), who were constantly saying 'Hello' or 'Mind your head', or 'Please Sir one moment!'... whenever challenged with the prospect of doing two things at once!

I felt sure throughout we were in many ways a Chinese experiement to discover the secrets of western tourist habits and suspected that of a night they went below decks and discussed between them what they had learned of our strange ways, (particularly our habit of repeatedly saying the same thing in English to someone who only spoke chinese over and over again in the vain hope that suddenly they'd pick the language up quickly)!

Entertainment throughout the voyage was a strange mixture of Butlins and the QE2 never really satisfactorally pulling off either.

There was the Captains welcome cocktail party and farewell dinner, (which the dutch and danish got dressed up for and we sort of didn't and sat about in looking awkward), hours and hours of drunken kareoke singing in the bar that drove the dutch and danish onto the back deck to try and escape it, and various chinese artistic pursuites some of which were taken up, some of which were totally ignored.

I got real guilt feelings about the chinese embroidery guy who every time I walked past him, sitting in front of his row of empty chairs, looked at me pleadingly in the hope I, or anyone, would show an interest.

Oh and don't let me forget about Mr slinky hips the latin american dance demonstrator who made a growl like a tiger and looked like Star Treks Mr Sulu in a tight fitting body suite.

He sent the women, (and men), screaming behind the bar for protection where we all stayed in abject terror no matter how much he emplored us all to... 'join me on the stage and I, yes I, will show you all you wonderfull ladies and gentlemen how to get down and get funky!'

There was even something billed as a 'free ball', for one evening, but it never really happened, (after Mr slinky hips I'm guessing the crew went back for a re think), leading to one Danish lady in a long flowing gown to look highly dissapointed when she arrived in the bar to find only the lambrini girls slaughtering a Britiney speares rendition on the Kareoke.

Worse though was our Guide B2 who had told us he liked kareoke and had kind of led us to believe he was quite tallented at it. It soon became clear he was deludding us, (and himself for that matter), and if one thing united the party goers with the blue rinse squad on the ship it was in our general devout desire to keep him off it whenever possible, (which meant all of us tended to take our stint on the microphone before he got the chance to).

Chris I think must be the first person ever to tell B2 the horrible truth.

'Ya know mate, I thought you'd be quite good on the kareoke... BUT STRUTH... YOUR TERRIBLE!'

I shared my cabin with B2 which incidentally is the first time of the trip I'd had to share with anyone. Up until now the dynamics of the single male/female traveller ratio has given me the advantage of my own room, but the cost on the cruise ship would have been too high I'm assuming.

Have discovered that B2 is so named cos he has B at the start of both his first and second name, and so has been called B2 since childhood and its stuck.

The Kiwis are particularly amused by this as the kids show Bannanas in Pajamas is big in New Zealand, (apparently the staring Banannas are called B1 and B2, so they keep singing the theme tune at him whenever they get the chance).

So for the last few days we've travelled as a motly bunch up the Yangste taking in the maginficence of the three gorges, (which by the way in case you were wondering are magnificent), and stopping for excursions along the way.

Our first was to the new dam development, which the Chinese are very proud of, world wide conservationists are horrified at, and me... well it's a big lump of concrete aint it?

It's meant to be bigger than the Hoover dam, (which I once saw fleetingly), and allegedly is the largest engineering project in the world.

We visited its interpretation centre in much the way tourists visit sellafield, and all in all I found it a tad uninteresting.

(No matter how excited the local officials and Chinese were).

Going through the Dams locks on the ship however was I have to admit a bit more exciting.

(Well the first one was, then everyone tended to just go back to the bar).

There are 4 in total, they can hold a series of ships at a time, and it tends to take about 45 mins in each to move onwards.

We spent a big chunk of the afternoon in there on the first day, and I was one of the few on deck to come out in the afternoon to witness out emergence into the misty river beyond at the final lock.

We had a boat trip the next day through some lesser gorges, (the stroppy ozzie guide made a fuss about safety and lack of life jackets), and the day after visited the Ghost city of Fengdu, (sort of a theme park for the damned).

Fengdu is where all the dead Chinese go to die and therin be judged before passing into heaven or spending torment in hell, (all illustrated within the park like something out of the London Dungeons).

It's perched up on a hill that can be reached by steps or a chair lift and they try hard to pursuade you that a lot of the buildings are Ming Dynasty, but they look and, when tapped, sound, a lot more 20th Century remake after originals were demolished during the cultural revolution to me.

The chair lift was entertaining, we didn't go on it, but obviously the designers of Fengdu had implemented it to help more senior visitors onwards to the afterlife.

It didn't slow down when it reached the top and you all but had to fling yourself off which proved a challenge to our Dutch and Danish travelling companions.

I watched one Danish lady scream in terror as she leapt for her life off the moving chair and then very nearly got knocked down by the chair behind speeding towards her.

(Oh how we laughed)!

It was an interesting hour, but for me the most exciting part came when I found myself enticed into a souvenire shop at the end.

The 2 stallholders, ( a man and a woman), were just unravelling this large wall print for me, when a tour guide, (who I think had mistaken me for one of her group), called to me from outside... 'Sir the bus is leaving you must come now!'

The two stall holders went mental, lambasting and shouting at her, to which she screamed back and I decided I'd make a sharp exit.

At this point the woman stall holder ran back at me and tried to shove me back into the shop, to which I took exception, so shoved her out the way to get passed, wherupon they let fly with full fury at the tour guide.

Everyone stopped to spectate like kids watching a schoolyard fight as blows were exchanged, there was fighting, biting, scratching, hair pulling, and who knows what Chinese obscentities, and it's important to note that the tour guide gave as good as she got finally ripping the shirt off the female shop holder.

Absolutely this was the highlight of my day trip that day.

All along the Gorges are markers that show where the water is eventaully going to reach, and this most of all has major implications on the wellbeing of the local people along the banks. Many cities and towns along the river were directly in the way of the new development and as such, under Chinese efficiency been demolished and rebuilt further up the hills.

There is much said about this. We are told by our ever smiling tour guides that the old people are sad because they do not like to see change but they are being given newer homes much better up the mountains, while the young people are being moved to the new big cities which they are happy about.

Journalist Lisa tends to get a bit uppity about this, but I'm not so sure it's that different from us. I see no difference between the Chinese Govermental propaganda about how happy everyone is to move to that of Patricia Hewitt telling us all the National Health has never had a better year, and the demolition and rebuilding of the cities has surely been done before in our country with the destruction of streets in the 60s in favour of high rise blocks.

Like those blocks the new cities are equally unnattractive, and inpersonal, and quite often MASSIVE! On our last day cruising as I sat on deck reading and drinking my Pino Collada we passed through a monster of a city in the middle of nowhere which from the deck to me looked like a ghost town but apparently held 400,000 people!

Our last night on board saw the crew talent show which also encouraged the passengers to contribute as well.

(Will the Chinese never learn)!

So in between ornate and well rehused fan dances, ethnic songs, martial arts, and Mr slinky hips strutting his stuff, you had Papa smurf singing a chinese song dressed up like a mandarin, (he was a funny bloke), the Lambrini girls own unique interpretation of 'I will survive', (the faces of the Danish/Dutch were a bemused picture), and me doing 'Johnny B Goode'.

Understand I did not push myself forward for this, I just found myself left with the odious task much the same as it was always me who was left giving readings in assembly at school whenever it fell to our form room.

Before breaking into song I did give a formal appology to the audience, told them that our group were singularly lacking in talent, but it was either going to be me or my tour guide and 'you really don't want that to happen.'

As it was I proved a bit of a star, (Jonny B Goode is my Kareoke speciality), I sang loud and well, covered the musical interlude with a bit of air guitar, and got a big cheer and round of applause from everyone, (I might even have united all the disperate groups in that final session), with some Danish/Dutch coming up to me on the night, and the following morning to say how good I'd been, (oh yeah, but how awful our tour leader was).

This of course went to my head, and much later in the evening when thankfully it was only the imtrave groups, (and a Danish bloke unfortunally named Annus), left in the bar I felt tempted to be overly ambitious and try my vocal talents at the 'Impossible dream'.

Never was a song more aptly named, and I learned quickly two of the most important rules of Kareoke...

1. Know you limitations.
2. Quit while you're ahead.

We drank into the early hours that night, at one stage Bobby and me convincing one of the Lambrini girls from Essex that we were a gay couple from Chingford.

She got all exciited and insisted we met up after the trip and totally failed to question various stuff that maybe she should have done.

When we finally let on we were telling her porkys she got quite peeved actually.

I called it a night at 1.30am but the Kiwis and the Pringles, (Bobby and Liza), and for that matter B2 were still going until 4am

As such there were many sore heads when we made ready to depart yesterday.

We arrived in a rain soaked Chonquin around 6am, and after breakfast and luggage gathering bounced into each other for the last time as combined groups in the ships lobby, (the crew all still spying us questioningly).

I got chatting to the Lambrini girl from the night before. They were heading next to where we had already been, (they're doing the reverse of our trip), and she had a big hangover and wasn't looking forward to the trip. I told her at least she could have a jacuzzi in her room when she got to the hotel.

To which she exploded...

'OH MY GOD ARE THERE JUCUZZI'S IN THE ROOMS?'

And I answered...

'NO I'M BLATANTLY LYING TO YOU AGAIN... PLEASE LEARN FROM THE EXPERIENCE!'

The rain was falling in torrents outside, the ship was rocking more than it had, and bit by bit everyone departed in groups. the dutch and the Danish were the first to disembark led by Papa Smurf followed by the Lambrinis all climbing out into the storm jointly singing 'it's raining men!'

Nobody noticed when the grumby brits went, (they were from Norwich you know and no fun at all), and then the stroppy Ozzie leader made his group put plastic bags on their feet and marched them out the door?

I kind of wondered about that, but soon discovered the reason when we made our departure.

It turned out we were anchored to a floating harbour out in the enormous harbour of Chonquin, and our route to land, through the rainstorm, was via a series of unstable pontoons and then an even more precarious looking series of metal gangplanks with no handrails with waves lapping over them.

I KID YOU NOT, carrying all our luggage, in a gale with driving rain, and poor visibility we made our way to shore walking across the Yangste like the Isrealites fleeing the Egyptions through the Red Sea.

It was hairy enough for us, it must have been a nightmare for the elderly Dutch/Danes, and all along, as the gangways rocked and buckled, there were beaming soaking wet chinese holding umbrellas saying... 'Goodbye', 'see you again', 'Watch your step'.

The adventure wasnt over when we got to the shore either, as you had to climb a steep flight of steps to get up from the river and the rain was pouring down them like a waterfall, (it was just like ghyll scrambling).

In the course of our rout Stu fell and cut his arm quite baddly which was only realised how serious it was when we were all finally safely sodden and steaming on the bus.

As such the plans for that day had to be changed somewhat, cos Stu would need to go to Hospital.

But you know what, I've rambled on long enough now.

It's 10am here in Xian, and I've got a free day to explore, so I'll tell you about Chonquin and our time here in Xian tonight.

Ok, bye!

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Photos

IN THE SHIPS BAR
Lisa, Annus the Dane, Scott, Tania and Ann

Sunken Island
This is the tip of an island that has been flooded.

Bye Bye Bridge
This bridge needs to be demolished as the rise in water will make it impossible for boats to pass through it.

WATER MARKER
All along the Yangste are markers to show where the water level is going to raise to in September