So it’s been quite a while since I last updated y’all. Almost 3 weeks in fact. I promise. I can explain.

For all of you who are not so familiar with Chinese national holidays – you culturally insensitive people – on 15th day of the eighth lunar month, the Chinese have a weeklong holiday to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival. The festivities’ highlight is the eating of lotus bean paste-based snacks called mooncakes. Which, for the record, taste about half as good as they sound. I was desperate to take advantage of my first Chinese holiday and get out of the city, so I headed off to the train station to buy a ticket.

At the best of times, China’s transport system is unfriendly. During national holidays, it’s menacingly evil. Mindful of the fact that train tickets are sold 10-days in advance of the departure date, I felt that this time around I certainly wouldn’t be that foreigner who spends the best part of two days hopelessly wandering the streets of Shanghai in search of a train ticket to Beijing, to only end up buying a ticket for the slowest possible train, on a very, very hard seat. That was so 2010. I had learned my lesson. Or had I?

I rocked up at the train station. I had every reason to be confident; I had nailed the train station role-play in my 1st year oral exam. However, unfortunately for me, the role-play was as close to reality as London Chinatown is to actual China. “Do you have any tickets to Chengdu?” “Meiyou” (Nope). “What none at all?” “Meiyou”. “Fine…what about Huangshan?” “Meiyou”. The woman selling the train tickets reminded me of that cocky kid in school who thinks they are being really funny by not ‘playing along’ with the role-play. Yes, me aged 14-17. “What about Nanjing?” “Meiyou”. “Pingyao? Xi’an? Wuhan? Suzhou?” “Meiyou”. This continued until my knowledge of Chinese geography had been exhausted (roughly 7 seconds). At which point, I pulled out my Lonely Planet and began pointing at random cities. In oral exam terms, this is only slightly better than actually speaking English. The people standing in the queue behind me found it hilarious. I had to laugh. It was ridiculous. “What tickets DO you have?!?” “None. Come back tomorrow.” And so I did (at stupid o’clock), only to be told the same thing. Great.

China had successfully set-up the world’s most impractical way of buying train tickets. Bemused by the whole thing, I gave up on trains and looked at flights. This proved much easier, but pricier. Eventually I booked a flight to a city called Luoyang in Henan Province (洛阳). Why Luoyang? Well partly because it rang a bell from my first-year Chinese history course (given that it is one of the ‘Four Great Ancient Capitals of China’, you would hope so), also it was far enough from Beijing to justify flying. But perhaps most importantly it was close enough to Beijing that in the event of another train ticket fiasco, worst-case scenario, I could take the bus back. I probably don’t need to tell you, but yes, I did end up taking the bus back. Anyway, more on that later. I was just happy to be getting out of Beijing. Now, I asked myself, what on earth is there to do in Luoyang?

As it transpired, quite a lot. We ended up spending 3 days there. The highlight was a trip to the Longmen Caves (龙门石窟), a Unesco World Heritage Site. The grottoes, dating back to 494 AD, are chiselled into a kilometre of limestone cliffs facing the murky Yi River. Altogether the site boasts more than 100,000 images and statues of Buddha (I think my camera may have OD’d on Buddha). Although the place was rammed with people, it was a very magical place. We also visited two Buddhist temples: the White Horse Temple (白马寺), built in 1st century AD and thought to be the first Buddhist temple built on Chinese soil, and the Guanlin Temple (关林寺), a smaller temple containing the tomb of legendary general Guan Yu of the Three Kingdoms Period (No? Me neither…). As we walked around these impressive landmarks of ancient China, it became apparent that some Chinese tourists were actually more interested in getting a snap with us foreigners than the stunning 2000-year old Buddhas. I guess Buddhas are slightly lacking in the ‘blonde hair, blue eyes’ department. Confused, and humbled, we obliged. However, slightly disconcertingly, I think the Chinese have more photos of us on our trip than we have of our own.

Next stop was Gongyi City (巩义市). It was a very slow start to the day as the night before we had fulfilled the ancient Chinese tradition of a visit to a local karaoke bar in every city you visit. My run of bad form with transport in China had ended and we miraculously arrived in Gongyi City at lunchtime. This gave us enough time to visit the Song Tombs (宋陵), where seven of the nine Northern Song Dynasty emperors are buried, some more Buddhist Caves, and Kangbaiwan’s Manor (康百万庄园), a castle built in the Ming Dynasty. Having seen the sights in Gongyi, we headed to the bus station to go to a place called Dengfeng (登封). On the map, it looked very simple. One straight road going south. Well, after about one hour of being thrown and lifted out of my seat, and several bruises later, the bus stopped in the middle of the road (I use the term ‘road’ very loosely). Someone had helpfully left some large boulders in the road and the path was blocked. We bundled out of the bus and were instructed to start walking down the road. It was getting dark and Google Maps told me we were another 80km from Dengfeng. Surprisingly, I wasn’t in the mood for a night-time hike through the Chinese countryside. Thankfully, after we turned a corner, another bus appeared on the horizon. Phew. But the journey was far from over. After another hour of rattling along the bumpy roads, another bus, a walk, and a taxi, by hook or by crook, we somehow arrived at the hostel. Sam 1 – 2 China Transport.

Just outside Dengfeng, nestled in a beautiful cluster of mountains, lies the Shaolin Temple (少林寺). The monastery is most famous for being the birthplace of Kung Fu (功夫 Gongfu in Chinese), a martial art form you probably associate with Bruce Li (and/or Jackie Chan) and the film ‘Kung Fu Panda’. The temple itself was very touristy, however the Kung Fu performance was a brilliant display of artistry and acrobatics. I couldn’t work out if they realised just how cool they were. They were backflipping for fun. The fluorescent orange togas alone were enough to make me gawk. You can see my own attempts at Kung Fu on the photos page (Just so you know, I am fully aware of how uncool I look). After the performance, we climbed a mountain to see a cave in which an Indian monk called Bodhidharma meditated for 9 years. The story goes that in between meditating, he and his disciples liked to imitate the natural movements of birds and animal… as you do. These movements later became the physical combat routines of Kung Fu. After climbing back down the mountain, we left the temple, none the wiser on how to backflip from a standstill, nor able to jump 3 metres off the ground, but full of enthusiasm for Kung Fu. We karate-chopped each other all the way back to the hostel.

The next day we headed to the capital of Henan Province, Zhengzhou (郑州). A big industrial city and major transportation hub, Zhengzhou was another characterless Chinese city. Luckily, a family we had met in Gongyi City had said they would take us out for the day and met us at the bus station. We arrived at about lunchtime and, in true Chinese tradition, were taken off for a boozy lunch with more food than is possible to eat. It was incredible how this family treated us and we were very grateful; I could not imagine someone in England ever being so generous to a stranger. Next up was a trip to the Yellow River (黄河), the second-longest river in China and historically very important in the context of ancient Chinese civilisation. The beach was no South Beach, but we had a bit of laugh jumping on a speedboat and riding horses. The father, clearly a huge fan of home videos, insisted on recording every second of the day (in High Definition). I’m sure “Slightly tipsy Westerner rides horse alongside Yellow River” will make great viewing one rainy afternoon. With the day almost over, we headed to the bus station to get a bus back to Beijing. We knew the train tickets would have sold out so didn’t even bother this time. We’ll call that one a draw: Sam 1 – 2 China Transport. The bus journey home reaffirmed something I had been thinking all week: The Chinese are terrible travellers.

Everything is manic. From the fierce pushing and shoving that precedes the journey (the door isn’t open, pushing won’t help), the squabbling and shouting-matches over whose seat is whose (we all have seat numbers, what’s the problem?), the hour-long debates over where to put one’s luggage, the impatience and inability of people to wait until the person has sat down before trying to squeeze down the aisle (that really annoys me), the awful choice of food for a bus journey (the smell on a Chinese bus is extraordinary), and the general stress exerted on passengers by all the unnecessary commotion. I know that this is just the way things work in China, but a small part of me still wants to stand up on my chair and, in a very calm voice, say: “Everyone just take a deep breath and count to 10”. It’ll never happen.

At about 1:30am, the bus stopped at a service station. The driver said we wouldn’t be moving until 5am. My initial reaction was one of annoyance, however since we only had one driver and it was an 11-hour journey to Beijing, I applauded the driver’s very sensible decision. China could do with more people like him. It was a strange feeling arriving back in Beijing. The Beijing traffic and pollution was somewhat reassuring. As much as I had loved my weeklong city getaway, it was great to be back home.

For more photos click here